Half a Hundred Hero Tales of Ulysses and The Men of Old
General
Half a Hundred Hero Tales of Ulysses and The Men of Old
Mythology, Classical -- Juvenile literature
"Spare me!" cried Circe. "Spare me, royal and wise Ulysses. For now I
know that thou art he of whom Quicksilver forewarned me, the most
prudent of mortals, against whom no enchantments can prevail. Thou
only couldst have conquered Circe. Spare me, wisest of men. I will
show thee true hospitality, and even give myself to be thy slave, and
this magnificent palace to be henceforth thy home."
The four nymphs, meanwhile, were making a most piteous ado; and
especially the ocean nymph, with the sea-green hair, wept a great deal
of salt water, and the fountain nymph, besides scattering dewdrops
from her fingers' ends, nearly melted away into tears. But Ulysses
would not be pacified until Circe had taken a solemn oath to change
back his companions, and as many others as he should direct, from
their present forms of beast or bird into their former shapes of men.
"On these conditions," said he, "I consent to spare your life.
Otherwise you must die upon the spot."
With a drawn sword hanging over her, the enchantress would readily
have consented to do as much good as she had hitherto done mischief,
however little she might like such employment. She therefore led
Ulysses out of the back entrance of the palace, and showed him the
swine in their sty. There were about fifty of these unclean beasts in
the whole herd; and though the greater part were hogs by birth and
education, there was wonderfully little difference to be seen betwixt
them and their new brethren who had so recently worn the human shape.
The comrades of Ulysses, however, had not quite lost the remembrance
of having formerly stood erect. When he approached the sty,
two-and-twenty enormous swine separated themselves from the herd and
scampered towards him with such a chorus of horrible squealing as made
him clap both hands to his ears. And yet they did not seem to know
what they wanted, nor whether they were merely hungry, or miserable
from some other cause. It was curious, in the midst of their
distress, to observe them thrusting their noses into the mire in
quest of something to eat. The nymph with the bodice of oaken bark
(she was the hamadryad of an oak) threw a handful of acorns among
them; and the two-and-twenty hogs scrambled and fought for the prize,
as if they had tasted not so much as a noggin of sour milk for a
twelvemonth.
"These must certainly be my comrades," said Ulysses. "I recognize
their dispositions. They are hardly worth the trouble of changing them
into the human form again. Nevertheless, we will have it done, lest
their bad example should corrupt the other hogs. Let them take their
original shapes, therefore, Dame Circe, if your skill is equal to the
task. It will require greater magic, I trow, than it did to make swine
of them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account