Have you come to set them free? Well, I warn you, you won't get home yourself, you'll stay right there, trapped with all the rest. But wait, I can save you, free you from that great danger. Look, here is a potent drug. Take it to Circe's halls- its power alone will shield you from the fatal day. Let me tell you of all the witch's subtle craft … poison the drink She'll mix you a potion, lace the brew with drugs but she'll be powerless to bewitch you, even so- this magic herb I give will fight her spells. Now here's your plan of action, step by step. The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand, kept in its holster you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip and rush her fast as if to run her through! persuade She'll cower in fear and coax you to her bed - but don't refuse the goddess' bed, not then, not if she's to release your friends and treat you well yourself. But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods she'll never plot some new intrigue to harm you, once you lie there naked - never unman you, strip away your courage!' With that the giant-killer handed over the magic herb, pulling it from the earth, and Hermes showed me all its name and nature. Its root is black and its flower white as milk and the gods call it moly. Dangerous for a mortal man to pluck from the soil but not for deathless gods. All lies within their power. Now Hermes went his way to the steep heights of Olympus, over the island's woods while I, just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids - I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now … She led me in to sit on a silver-studded chair, ornately carved, with a stool to rest my feet. In a golden bowl she mixed a potion for me to drink,

stirring her poison in, her heart aswirl with evil. And then she passed it on, I drank it down but it never worked its spell - she struck with her wand and 'Now,' she cried, 'off to your sty, you swine, and wallow with your friends!' But I, I drew my sharp sword sheathed at my hip and rushed her fast as if to run her through - She screamed, slid under my blade, hugged my knees with a flood of warm tears and a burst of winging words: 'Who are you? where are you from? your city? your parents? I'm wonderstruck-you drank my drugs, you're not bewitched! Never has any other man withstood my potion, never, once it's past his lips and he has drunk it down. You have a mind in you no magic can enchant! You must be Odysseus, man of twists and turns - Hermes the giant-killer, god of the golden wand, he always said you'd come, homeward bound from Troy in your swift black ship. Come, sheathe your sword, let's go to bed together, mount my bed and mix in the magic work of love - we'll breed deep trust between us.' So she enticed but I fought back, still wary . 'Circe, Circe, how dare you tell me to treat you with any warmth? You who turned my men to swine in your own house and now you hold me here as well - teeming with treachery you lure me to your room to mount your bed, so once I lie there naked you'll unman me, strip away my courage! Mount your bed? Not for all the world. Not until you consent to swear, goddess, a binding oath you'll never plot some new intrigue to harm me!' Straightaway she began to swear the oath that I required - never, she'd never do me harm-and when she'd finished, then, at last, I mounted Circe's gorgeous bed … At the same time her handmaids bustled through the halls, four in all who perform the goddess' household tasks: nymphs, daughters born of the springs and groves and the sacred rivers running down to open sea.