The folding doors swung quickly back, and left him standing behind
the pillar, in the solitude of the outer hall. There Eurylochus
waited until he was quite weary, and listened eagerly to every sound,
but without hearing anything that could help him to guess what had
become of his friends. Footsteps, it is true, seemed to be passing
and repassing, in other parts of the palace. Then there was a clatter
of silver dishes, or golden ones, which made him imagine a rich feast
in a splendid banqueting hall. But by and by he heard a tremendous
grunting and squealing, and then a sudden scampering, like that of
small, hard hoofs over a marble floor, while the voices of the mistress
and her four handmaidens were screaming all together, in tones of
anger and derision. Eurylochus could not conceive what had happened,
unless a drove of swine had broken into the palace, attracted by the
smell of the feast. Chancing to cast his eyes at the fountain, he saw
that it did not shift its shape, as formerly, nor looked either like a
long-robed man, or a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or an ass. It looked like
nothing but a hog, which lay wallowing in the marble basin, and filled
it from brim to brim.
But we must leave the prudent Eurylochus waiting in the outer hall, and
follow his friends into the inner secrecy of the palace. As soon as
the beautiful woman saw them, she arose from the loom, as I have told
you, and came forward, smiling, and stretching out her hand. She took
the hand of the foremost among them, and bade him and the whole party
welcome.
"You have been long expected, my good friends," said she. "I and my
maidens are well acquainted with you, although you do not appear to
recognize us. Look at this piece of tapestry, and judge if your faces
must not have been familiar to us."
So the voyagers examined the web of cloth which the beautiful woman
had been weaving in her loom; and, to their vast astonishment they saw
their own figures perfectly represented in different colored threads.
It was a lifelike picture of their recent adventures, showing them
in the cave of Polyphemus, and how they had put out his one great
moony eye; while in another part of the tapestry they were untying
the leathern bags, puffed out with contrary winds; and farther on,
they beheld themselves scampering away from the gigantic king of the
Læstrygons, who had caught one of them by the leg. Lastly, there they
were, sitting on the desolate shore of this very island, hungry and
downcast, and looking ruefully at the bare bones of the stag which they
devoured yesterday. This was as far as the work had yet proceeded; but
when the beautiful woman should again sit down at her loom, she would
probably make a picture of what had since happened to the strangers,
and of what was now going to happen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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