After leaving the land of the Cyclopes they came next to the AEolian island, where dwelt AEolus with his wife and twelve sons and daughters.  The island floated on the sea, and all around it tall cliffs ran sheer down to the water, crowned on their summit by a wall of brass.  Here they remained a whole month, and were hospitably entertained by AEolus, revelling in the abundance of his wealthy house, and whiling away the time with music, and dance, and song, and brave stories of the Trojan war.  And when they departed he gave Odysseus a leathern bag, tied with a silver cord, in which were confined all the winds that blow, except only the good west wind, which he left free to blow behind them and speed them on their way.

So for nine days and nights they sailed without let or hindrance, and on the tenth they came in sight of Ithaca, which they approached so near that they saw the smoke and flame of the beacon-fires along the coast.  Odysseus was worn out with watching, for during all the voyage he had not closed his eyes, but had sat the whole time with his hand on the sheet, and suffered no one to relieve him.  But now within sight of his native land he sank down in utter weariness, and fell into a deep sleep.

That fatal moment of weakness led to a long train of disasters.  His men had long gazed with curious and jealous eyes at the mysterious wallet, which they supposed to be full of gold and silver.  As long as Odysseus was on his guard they durst not give utterance to their thoughts; but when they saw him overtaken by slumber they began to murmur among themselves.  And thus they spake one to another:  “Behold how this man is honoured and beloved whithersoever he goes!  He left Troy-land laden with booty, and thereto hath AEolus added this rich treasure, while we must come home with empty hands.  Go to, let us have sight of all this gold and silver.”

So waking folly prevailed over slumbering prudence.  In a moment the silver cord was loosened, and all the boisterous winds rushed forth and bore them weeping and wailing far from their native land.  Roused by the tumult of the tempest, and the despairing cries of his men, Odysseus sprang up, just in time to see the last glimpse of the hills of Ithaca as they melted in the distance.  His first impulse was to fling himself into the sea and perish; but mastering his frenzy he covered his face, and sat down in speechless misery, while the winds bore them swiftly back to the isle of AEolus.

With a heavy heart Odysseus went up to the house where he had been received so kindly, and told his sorrowful tale.  “Pity my weakness,” he pleaded, “and let me not suffer for the sins of my men.”  But AEolus was not to be moved.  “Begone,” he said sternly, “quit this island at once, thou caitiff!  Heaven hath set the seal of its hatred upon thee, and I may not give countenance to such as thou.  Out of my sight!” he thundered, and Odysseus crept sadly back to his ship.