cloaks around them and garments; and we found them all banqueting in the palace. But when they beheld one another, and thought of all things, they wept mourning, and the house resounded with groans on all sides. And she, the divine one of goddesses, standing near me addressed [me]:
"'O noble son of Laertes, much-contriving Ulysses, no more now excite fresh mourning; even I myself know both what griefs thou hast suffered in the fishy sea, and what harms hostile men have done to thee on the shore. But come, eat food and drink wine, until thou again receivest thy mind in thy breast, such as when first thou didst leave thy paternal land of rugged Ithaca: but now thou art wearied[1] and spiritless, ever mindful of thy severe wanderings: nor is thy mind ever in joyfulness since thou hast suffered very many things.'
"Thus she spoke; but our noble mind was immediately persuaded. There we sat all the days for a full year, feasting upon abundance of flesh and sweet wine: but when it was now a year, and the seasons turned round, [the months waning, and the long days were brought round to a conclusion,] then my beloved companions calling me out, spoke:
"'Wretched one, now at length be mindful of thy paternal land, if it is foretold for thee to be saved, and reach thy lofty-roofed house, and thine own paternal land.'
["Thus they spoke; but my noble mind was persuaded. Thus then we sat during the whole day until sun-set, feasting upon abundance of flesh and sweet wine: but when the sun set and darkness came on, they slept in the shadowy palace.] But I, having ascended the beautiful bed of Circe, besought her at her knees; and the goddess heard my voice, and addressing her, I spoke winged words:
"'O Circe, perform for me the promise, which thou didst promise, that thou wouldst send me home; for my mind now urges me, and that of my other beloved companions, who waste away my dear heart, mourning around me, when thou indeed dost happen to be at a distance.'
"Thus I spoke; but she, the divine one of goddesses, immediately answered me: 'O noble son of Laertes, much-contriving Ulysses, do not ye any longer remain in my house against your will. But ye must first perform another voyage, and come to the house of Pluto and awful Proserpine,
- ↑ Literally, parched, dry.
