“Welcome, fair youths,” she said, “to the halls of Circe, daughter of the sun.  Sit ye down, while I prepare you a posset to slake your thirst on this hot day.”  So they sat down, and Circe took wine, and grated cheese, and honey, and barley-meal, and mixed them in a bowl, muttering strange words, and adding a single drop from a little phial which she took from a secret cupboard.  Then she gave them to drink, touching them, as she did so, with a wand; and no sooner had they tasted than their form and countenance was changed into the likeness of swine, though they kept the mind and feelings of men.  Circe now drove them all together into a stye, and flung down beechmast, and acorns, and cornel berries, for them to eat.

It was drawing towards noon when Odysseus saw a solitary figure descending the slope which led down to the beach.  “Eurylochus!” he cried, recognising the familiar features of his squire.  “Why comest thou alone?” For some time Eurylochus was unable to utter a word; at last he spoke, in a broken and altered voice, while his face was blanched with deadly terror.  “They are gone,” he faltered—­“spirited away—­vanished without a sign.  The place is haunted:  let us away!”

Without a word, Odysseus caught up his sword and bow, and ordered Eurylochus to show him the way to the place where he had lost his men.  But Eurylochus clung to his knees, and besought him to remain, and prepare for instant flight.  Seeing him to be unnerved by terror, Odysseus bade him stay by the ship, and he himself set out alone to learn the secrets of this mysterious island.

Just before coming within sight of Circe’s palace, he saw, standing in his path, a fair and comely youth, who greeted him kindly, and took him by the hand.  There was something more than human beauty in the face of this stranger, and his words showed more than human knowledge of Odysseus and his affairs; for indeed he was no other than Hermes, the messenger of the gods, sent down from heaven to aid Odysseus in this strait.  “Son of Laertes,” he said, “why goest thou thus unwarily, even as a silly bird into the net of the fowler?  Pause awhile, or, instead of setting free thy men, thou wilt become even as they are.”  So saying he stooped down, and with careful hands tore up a little plant which was growing at their feet; the flower of it was white as milk, and the root was black.  “Take this plant,” he said, giving it to Odysseus.  “It is the magic herb, Moly, and no human hand may pluck it; having this, thou mayest defy all the spells of Circe.  And when thou comest to the house of that fair witch, she will offer thee a potion, mixed with baneful drugs:  drink thou thereof, for it shall do thee no harm.  But when she smites thee with her wand draw thou thy sword and make as though thou wouldst slay her; and she will be filled with fear, for none ever resisted her power before.  Then do thou compel her to swear a great oath that she will devise no further ill against thee.”  As the last words were uttered Hermes vanished, leaving Odysseus standing with the plant in his hand.