My ships back to Æolia, my men strook With woe enough. We pump’d and landed then, Took food, for all this; and of all my men I took a herald to me, and away Went to the court of Æolus, where they Were feasting still; he, wife, and children, set Together close. We would not at their meat Thrust in; but humbly on the threshold sat. He then, amaz’d, my presence wonder’d at, And call’d to me: ‘Ulysses! How thus back Art thou arriv’d here? What foul spirit brake Into thy bosom, to retire thee thus? We thought we had deduction curious Giv’n thee before, to reach thy shore and home; Did it not like thee?’ I, ev’n overcome With worthy sorrow, answer’d: ‘My ill men Have done me mischief, and to them hath been My sleep th’ unhappy motive; but do you, Dearest of friends, deign succour to my vow. Your pow’rs command it.’ Thus endeavour’d I With soft speech to repair my misery. The rest with ruth sat dumb. But thus spake he: ‘Avaunt, and quickly quit my land of thee, Thou worst of all that breathe. It fits not me To convoy, and take-in, whom Heav’ns expose. Away, and with thee go the worst of woes, That seek’st my friendship, and the Gods thy foes.’ Thus he dismiss’d me sighing. Forth we sail’d, At heart afflicted. And now wholly fail’d The minds my men sustain’d, so spent they were With toiling at their oars, and worse did bear Their growing labours; and they caus’d their grought By self-will’d follies; nor now ever thought To see their country more. Six nights and days We sail’d; the seventh we saw fair Lamos raise Her lofty tow’rs, the Læstrygonian state That bears her ports so far disterminate; Where shepherd shepherd calls out, he at home[2] Is call’d out by the other that doth come From charge abroad, and then goes he to sleep, The other issuing; he whose turn doth keep The night observance hath his double hire, Since day and night in equal length expire About that region, and the night’s watch weigh’d At twice the day’s ward, since the charge that’s laid Upon the night’s-man (besides breach of sleep) Exceeds the days-man’s; for one oxen keep, The other sheep. But when the haven we found, (Exceeding famous, and environ’d round With one continuate rock, which so much bent That both ends almost met, so prominent They were, and made the haven’s mouth passing strait) Our whole fleet in we got; in whose receit Our ships lay anchor’d close. Nor needed we Fear harm on any stays, Tranquillity[3] So purely sat there, that waves great nor small Did ever rise to any height at all. And yet would I no entry make, but stay’d Alone without the haven, and thence survey’d, From out a lofty watch-tow’r raised there, The country round about; nor anywhere The work of man or beast appear’d to me, Only a smoke from earth break I might see. I then made choice of two, and added more, A herald for associate, to explore What sort of men liv’d there. They went, and saw A beaten way, through which carts us’d to draw Wood from the high hills to the town, and met