Free Argos by Ralph Hardy

knows!
    Then Hermes said, “You cannot get them out yourself. But come, I will help you with your troubles. Here, take this medicinal flower before you go into Circe’s house. She will try to enchant you and put drugs in your food and wine, but this will protect you from her evil charms.”
    â€œThen I will take the medicine and pray to the gods that it is strong.”
    â€œThere is more,” the fair-haired youth said. “Once you have eaten her food and drunk her wine, Circe will strike you with her long wand. When she does, draw your sword as if to kill her. She will be afraid and invite you into her chamber. Do not refuse the bed of a goddess, but make her first swear an oath, that she will release your companions from their misery and that she has devised no evil hurt for you.”
    My master thanked Hermes, and after eating the black-rooted flower, which would protect him, he hurried on toward Circe’s home in the glen. Once he reached her house, my master shouted for the goddess, and she opened the shining door and invited him in. There she bade him sit on a finely wrought chair and drink a cup of her poisoned wine. Then, when he had drained the cup, she struck my master with her magic wand and commanded, “Go to your sty nowand lie with your friends there!”
    So she spoke, but my master, drawing his sharp sword, rushed toward her as if to kill her. The goddess screamed aloud and ducked under the sword, falling to her knees and crying out for mercy.
    â€œWhat manner of man are you, and where did you come from?” she demanded. “Who are your parents? No other man beside you could have withstood my drugs once he drank them.”
    â€œRelease my men,” my master demanded, “and I will tell you my name.”
    The goddess shook her head. “You must be Odysseus, of the black ship,” Circe said. “I was warned that you would come my way, and now you have.”
    â€œI am Odysseus, son of Laertes, on my return from Troy,” my master said, and demanded again that his men be released.
    â€œI will release them,” the goddess said. “But first let us retire to my chamber so that we have faith and trust each other.”
    So she spoke, the mountain sparrow said, but my master trusted her not.
    â€œSwear a strong oath,” he demanded, “that you will release my men from your magic and that you will not seek to unman me, nor devise evil against me.”
    And the goddess swore a great oath and led him into her room, where her servants bathed my master, washing away the weariness of his journey, and then anointed him in oil. When he had bathed and dressed in a fine tunic, the servants brought food to my master, but he touched it not.
    â€œBrave Odysseus,” Circe said. “Why do you touch not food or drink, but look like a man eating his own heart? Do you suspect me of treachery? Did I not swear an oath to you?”
    So she spoke, and my master replied, “O fair Circe, how can a man eat when his companions are not free?”
    Then Circe walked out through the palace, holding her wand in her hand, and entered the sty where my master’s companions were kept, and touched them all with her wand. Soon where there had been bristles and curly tails stood tall the fine men of my master’s black ship, and they ran to my master and clung to his hand, begging him to take them back to where their ship lay in harbor.
    But Circe spoke and persuaded my master otherwise. She told him to return to the ship and drag it onto land, stow their possessions, and then return with the entire crew.
    And so my master left the citadel in the glen and returned to his fast black ship where his crew wept tears in lamentation, thinking their companions dead.
    â€œWeep no more,” he said to them. “Your companions eat and drink their fill in Circe’s hall while we tarry. Drag the ship up onto the beach and stow your goods. Circe has bid us