una tamen, quae nos ipsumque vehebat Ulixem,
effugit. amissa sociorum parte dolentes
multaque conquesti terris adlabimur illis,
quas procul hinc cernis (procul est, mihi crede, videnda
insula visa mihi!) tuque o iustissime Troum, 245
nate dea, (neque enim finito Marte vocandus
hostis es, Aenea) moneo, fuge litora Circes!
nos quoque Circaeo religata in litore pinu,
Antiphatae memores inmansuetique Cyclopis,
ire negabamus; sed tecta ignota subire 250
sorte sumus lecti: sors me fidumque Politen
Eurylochumque simul nimiique Elpenora vini
bisque novem socios Circaea ad moenia misit.
quae simul attigimus stetimusque in limine tecti,
mille lupi mixtaeque lupis ursaeque leaeque 255
occursu fecere metum, sed nulla timenda
nullaque erat nostro factura in corpore vulnus;
quin etiam blandas movere per aera caudas
nostraque adulantes comitant vestigia, donec
excipiunt famulae perque atria marmore tecta 260
ad dominam ducunt: pulchro sedet illa recessu
sollemni solio pallamque induta nitentem
insuper aurato circumvelatur amictu.
Nereides nymphaeque simul, quae vellera motis
nulla trahunt digitis nec fila sequentia ducunt: 265
gramina disponunt sparsosque sine ordine flores
secernunt calathis variasque coloribus herbas;
ipsa, quod hae faciunt, opus exigit, ipsa, quis usus
quove sit in folio, quae sit concordia mixtis,
novit et advertens pensas examinat herbas. 270
haec ubi nos vidit, dicta acceptaque salute
diffudit vultus et reddidit omina votis.
nec mora, misceri tosti iubet hordea grani
mellaque vimque meri cum lacte coagula passo,
quique sub hac lateant furtim dulcedine, sucos 275
adicit. accipimus sacra data pocula dextra.
quae simul arenti sitientes hausimus ore,
et tetigit summos virga dea dira capillos,
(et pudet et referam) saetis horrescere coepi,
nec iam posse loqui, pro verbis edere raucum 280
murmur et in terram toto procumbere vultu,
osque meum sensi pando occallescere rostro,
colla tumere toris, et qua modo pocula parte
sumpta mihi fuerant, illa vestigia feci
cumque eadem passis (tantum medicamina possunt!) 285
claudor hara, solumque suis caruisse figura
vidimus Eurylochum: solus data pocula fugit;
quae nisi vitasset, pecoris pars una manerem
nunc quoque saetigeri, nec tantae cladis ab illo
certior ad Circen ultor venisset Ulixes. 290
pacifer huic dederat florem Cyllenius album:
moly vocant superi, nigra radice tenetur;
tutus eo monitisque simul caelestibus intrat
ille domum Circes et ad insidiosa vocatus
pocula conantem virga mulcere capillos 295
reppulit et stricto pavidam deterruit ense.
inde fides dextraeque datae thalamoque receptus
coniugii dotem sociorum corpora poscit.
spargimur ignotae sucis melioribus herbae
percutimurque caput conversae verbere virgae, 300
verbaque dicuntur dictis contraria verbis.
quo magis illa canit, magis hoc tellure levati
erigimur, saetaeque cadunt, bifidosque relinquit
rima pedes, redeunt umeri et subiecta lacertis
bracchia sunt: flentem flentes amplectimur ipsi 305
haeremusque ducis collo nec verba locuti
ulla priora sumus quam nos testantia gratos.
annua nos illic tenuit mora, multaque praesens
tempore tam longo vidi, multa auribus hausi,
hoc quoque cum multis, quod clam mihi rettulit una 310
quattuor e famulis ad talia sacra paratis.
cum duce namque meo Circe dum sola moratur,
illa mihi niveo factum de marmore signum
ostendit iuvenale gerens in vertice picum,
aede sacra positum multisque insigne coronis. 315
quis foret et quare sacra coleretur in aede,
cur hanc ferret avem, quaerenti et scire volenti
“accipe” ait, “Macareu, dominaeque potentia quae sit
hinc quoque disce meae; tu dictis adice mentem!
‘“Picus in Ausoniis, proles Saturnia, terris 320
rex fuit, utilium bello studiosus equorum;
forma viro, quam cernis, erat: licet ipse decorem
adspicias fictaque probes ab imagine verum;
par animus formae; nec adhuc spectasse per annos
quinquennem poterat Graia quater Elide pugnam. 325
ille suos dryadas Latiis in montibus ortas
verterat in vultus, illum fontana petebant
numina, naiades, quas Albula, quasque Numici,
quas Anienis aquae cursuque brevissimus Almo
Narve tulit praeceps et opacae Farfarus umbrae, 330
quaeque colunt Scythicae stagnum nemorale Dianae
finitimosque lacus; spretis tamen omnibus unam
ille colit nymphen, quam quondam in colle Palati
dicitur ancipiti peperisse Venilia Iano.
haec ubi nubilibus primum maturuit annis, 335
praeposito cunctis Laurenti tradita Pico est,
rara quidem facie, sed rarior arte canendi,
unde Canens dicta est: silvas et saxa movere
et mulcere feras et flumina longa morari
ore suo volucresque vagas retinere solebat. 340
quae dum feminea modulatur carmina voce,
exierat tecto Laurentes Picus in agros
indigenas fixurus apros tergumque premebat
acris equi laevaque hastilia bina ferebat
poeniceam fulvo chlamydem contractus ab auro. 345
venerat in silvas et filia Solis easdem,
utque novas legeret fecundis collibus herbas,
nomine dicta suo Circaea reliquerat arva.
quae simul ac iuvenem virgultis abdita vidit,
obstipuit: cecidere manu, quas legerat, herbae, 350
flammaque per totas visa est errare medullas.
ut primum valido mentem conlegit ab aestu,
quid cuperet, fassura fuit: ne posset adire,
cursus equi fecit circumfususque satelles.
‘non’ ait ‘effugies, vento rapiare licebit, 355
si modo me novi, si non evanuit omnis
herbarum virtus, nec me mea carmina fallunt.’
dixit et effigiem nullo cum corpore falsi
fingit apri praeterque oculos transcurrere regis
iussit et in densum trabibus nemus ire videri, 360
plurima qua silva est et equo loca pervia non sunt.
haut mora, continuo praedae petit inscius umbram
Picus equique celer spumantia terga relinquit
spemque sequens vanam silva pedes errat in alta.
One of them, however, in which I and Ulysses himself sailed, escaped. Grieving for our lost companions and with many lamentations, we finally reached that land which you see at some distance yonder; and believe me, I found it best to see the island at a distance. And you, most righteous Trojan, son of Venus (for now that the war is over, you are no longer to be counted foe, Aeneas), I warn you, keep away from Circe’s shores! We also, having moored our vessel on the beach, and remembering Antiphates and the cruel Cyclops, refused to go further, but were chosen by lot to explore the unknown island. The lot sent me and the trusty Polites, Eurylochus also and Elpenor, too much given to wine, and eighteen others to Circe’s city. When we arrived and stood within her courts, a thousand wolves and she-bears and lionesses in a mixed throng rushed on us, filling us with terror. But there was no need to fear them; not one of them was to give us a single scratch upon our bodies. Why, they even wagged their tails in show of kindness, and fawned upon us as they followed us along, until attendant maidens took us in charge and led us through the marble halls to their mistress’ presence. She sat in a beautiful retreat on her throne of state, clad in a gleaming purple robe, with a golden veil above. Her attendants were Nereids and nymphs, who card no fleece and spin no woollen threads with nimble fingers; their only task, to sort out plants, to select from a jumbled mass and place in separate baskets flowers and herbs of various colours. She herself oversees the work they do; she herself knows what is the value of each leaf, what ingredients mix well together, takes note and checks the weight of the herbs. When she saw us and when welcome had been given and received, she smiled upon us and seemed to promise us the friendship we desired. At once she bade her maidens spread a feast of parched barley-bread, of honey, strong wine, and curdled milk; and in this sweet drink, where they might lie unnoticed, she slyly squeezed some of her baleful juices. We took the cup which was offered by her divine hand. As soon as we had thirstily drained the cup with parched lips, the cruel goddess touched the tops of our heads with her magic wand; and then (I am ashamed to tell, yet will I tell) I began to grow rough with bristles, and I could speak no longer, but in place of words came only hoarse, grunting sounds, and I began to bend forward with face turned entirely to the earth. I felt my mouth hardening into a long snout, my neck swelling in brawny folds, and with my hands, with which but now I had lifted the goblet to my lips, I made tracks upon the ground. And then I was shut up in a pen with others who had suffered the same change (so great was the power of her magic drugs!). We saw that Eurylochus alone was without the pig form; for he alone had refused to take the cup. If he had not refused it, I should even now be one of the bristly herd, and Ulysses would never have been informed by him of our great calamity, and come to Circe to avenge us. Peace-bringing Cyllenius had given him a white flower which the gods call moly. It grows up from a black root. Safe with this and the directions which the god had given him, Ulysses entered Circe’s palace and, when he was invited to drink of the fatal bowl, he struck aside the wand with which she was attempting to stroke his hair, and threatened the quaking queen with his drawn sword. Then faith was pledged and right hands given and, being accepted as her husband, he demanded as a wedding gift the bodies of his friends. We were sprinkled with the more wholesome juices of some mysterious herb, our heads received the stroke of her reversed rod, and words were uttered over us which counteracted the words said before. And as she sang, more and still more raised from the ground we stood erect, our bristles fell away, our feet lost their cloven hoofs, our shoulders came back to us, and our arms resumed their former shape. Weeping, we embraced him, weeping too, and clung to our chieftain’s neck; and the first words we uttered were of gratitude to him. We tarried in that country for a year, and in so long a time many were the things I saw with my own eyes and many were the tales I heard. Here is one of the many which one of the four attendants appointed for such offices as have been mentioned1 told me privately. For, while Circe was dallying alone with our leader, this nymph pointed out to me a snow-white marble statue of a young man with a woodpecker on his head. The statue was set in a sacred fane and attracted attention for its many wreaths. When in my curiosity I asked who it was and why he was worshipped in that holy place and why he had the bird upon his head, she told me this story: ‘Listen, Macareus, and learn from this how strong is my mistress’ magic. And do you give diligent heed to what I say.
“‘Picus, the son of Saturn, was once the king of the Ausonian country and was very fond of horses fit for war. The hero’s form was as you see it. And, though you should look upon his living beauty, still would you approve the true in comparison with his mimic form. His spirit was equal to his body. He could not yet have seen, as the years went by, four quinquennial contests at Grecian Elis; but already had he attracted to his beauty all the dryads sprung from the hills of Latium; the nymphs of the fountains pined for him, and the naiads who dwell in the Albula, beneath Numicus’ stream and Anio’s, short-coursing Almo, headlong Nar, and Farfar’s shady waters; and those who haunt the wooded pool of Taurian Diana and the neighbouring lakes. But, spurning all these, he loved one nymph alone, whom once on the Palatine Venilia is said to have borne to two-headed Janus. This maid, when she had ripened into marriageable years, was given to Laurentian Picus, preferred above all suitors. Rare was her beauty, but rarer still her gift of song, whence was her name, Canens. She used to move woods and rocks, soften wild beasts, stop the long rivers with her singing, and stay the wandering birds. Once, while she was singing her songs with her maidenly voice, Picus had sallied forth from home into the Laurentian fields to hunt the native boar. He bestrode a prancing courser, carrying in his left hand a brace of spears and wearing a purple mantle caught with a brooch of gold. The daughter2 of the Sun also had come to those selfsame woods and, to gather fresh herbs on the fertile hills, she had left the fields called Circaean from her name. As soon as she saw the youth from her leafy hiding-place she was struck with wonder. The herbs which she had gathered fell from her hands and burning fire seemed to creep through her whole frame. As soon as she could master her passion and collect her thoughts she was on the point of confessing her desire; but his swift-speeding horse and his thronging retinue prevented her approach to him. “You shall not escape me so,” she cried, “not though the wind itself should bear you off, if I know myself, if my herbs’ magic power has not wholly vanished, and if my charms have not failed me.” She spoke and fashioned an unsubstantial image of a boar and bade it rush across the trail before the prince’s eyes and seem to take cover in a grove thick with fallen trees, where the woods were dense, places where a horse could not penetrate. The thing was done, and straightway Picus, all unconscious of the trick, made after his shadowy prey and, swiftly dismounting from his foaming steed, followed the empty lure on foot and went blindly groping in the forest depths.
See ll. 266 ff.
Circe.