Then Macareus: “There reign’d a prince of fame O’er Tuscan seas, and Aeolus his name. A largess to Ulysses he consign’d, And in a steer’s tough hide enclosed a wind; Nine days before the swelling gale we ran, The tenth to make the meeting land began, When now the merry mariners, to find Imagined wealth within, the bag unbind. Forthwith outrush’d a gust, which backward bore Our galleys to the Laestrygonian shore, Whose crown Antiphates the tyrant wore. Some few commission’d were with speed to treat; We to his court repair; his guards we meet. Two, friendly flight preserved, the third was doom’d To be by those cursed cannibals consumed. Inhumanly our hapless friends they treat; Our men they murder, and destroy our fleet. In time the wise Ulysses bore away, And dropp’d his anchor in yon faithless bay. The thoughts of perils past we still retain, And fear to land, till lots appoint the men. Polites true, Elpenor given to wine, Eurylochus, myself, the lots assign. Design’d for dangers, and resolved to dare, To Circe’s fatal palace we repair.