Then came a handmaid with a golden ewer, And from it poured pure water for my hands Into a silver laver. Next she placed A polished table near to me, on which The matron of the palace laid the feast, With many delicacies from her store, And bade me eat. The banquet pleased me not. My thoughts were elsewhere; dark imaginings Were in my mind. When Circè marked my mood, As in a gloomy revery I sat, And put not forth my hands to touch the feast, She came to me and spake these winged words:—
“ ‘Why sittest thou like one who has no power Of speech, Ulysses, wrapt in thoughts that gnaw Thy heart, and tasting neither food nor wine? Still dost thou dream of fraud? It is not well That thou shouldst fear it longer, since I pledged Myself against it with a mighty oath.’
“She spake, and I replied: ‘What man whose heart Is faithful could endure to taste of food Or wine till he should see his captive friends Once more at large? If with a kind intent Thou bidst me eat and drink,