Chapter II

The Seashore, early in the forenoon of the next day. The scene is the same as in the First Act, but the signs of a temporary encampment have disappeared and the hull of the vessel is encumbered with grass and weeds. The curtain rising discovers both watches of the crew (excepting GLAUCUS and PHILEMON) disposed in scattered groups; some of the men sitting or reclining; others standing. All seem pre-occupied and the faces of most wear an anxious look. The demeanor of EURYLOCHUS, who stands in a conspicuous position, is more confident and dignified than in former scenes.

FIRST SAILOR

Well, I suppose the devil knows how long we have got to wait
before they show up.

SECOND SAILOR

We’re lucky if they ever show up at all. Ten to one Glauc’ll
come back without him.

FIRST SAILOR

Ay, ay! It’s a question whether even Glaucus can get the
commander’s ear—leastwise he’ll have to get Madam Circe out of
the way first.

PHORBAS

Mark me; we aren’t safe yet! There’s no knowing what sort of
beasts she might turn us all into even now, just to keep him
with her a year longer!

SECOND SAILOR

I’ve a notion we’d have done better to send a man of the
commander’s own watch—some one that never was a hog.

XENIAS

Bravo! where will you find such a one? Glauc’s all right; it’s
enough to have a man who wasn’t _always_ a hog.

FIRST SAILOR

Ha, ha! Theron, that’s one on you.

THERON

To hell with it! hang the hogs!

ELPENOR

My father _sticks_ his.

FIRST SAILOR

That’s the talk, Elpy; keep the culinary department straight!

SECOND SAILOR

But what if he’s so bewitched he won’t come and talk anyway?

EURYLOCHUS

Peace, peace!
’Tis scarce an hour since we despatch’d our comrade
On no brief errand.
Be patient; have good hope! It hangs, I know,
On the razor’s edge; yet leans the weightier cause
Toward consummation. Witchery there is still;
Else were there little need to prompt Ulysses
To his plain duty. Drugs have their antidotes,
Which to employ are easy when once found:
More subtle—ay, more deadly! than her potions
Are these soft blandishments, cared she to play them
To their full scope. But it has stood forth clear,
Though once I did mistrust the promised convoy:
Not in malevolence the enchantress binds
Ulysses’ will. And when good Glaucus comes,
Fearless and plain of speech and charged with all
The prayerful hot commands we laid upon him;
When he, unheard of Circe, bids his captain
Arise, for old Laertes’ sake; and, backward
With stern reproachful finger pointing, names
The faithful wife who waits, Penelope,
Icarius’ daughter:—then, perhaps, this cord
Of crimson devilment will snap—remembrance,
Conscience awake.

XENIAS

Eurylochus, was it not
Here on this very shore a twelvemonth since,
Launching the half-mann’d pinnace, you would fly,
Your mates left in the lurch?

EURYLOCHUS

But for Ulysses
(This you would add) the doors of their foul prison
Had closed on them forever.

XENIAS

But to-day
They jest and laugh, though ’tis in Circe’s isle.

THERON

Damn me, too, if we’re the only ones that have learnt to
mumble spoon-victuals and dance with tree-toads in the
moonlight!

EURYLOCHUS

Xenias, there is a fear to which all others
Are as soft zephyrs to the tempest: it is
When spirits uncanny mock the paltry arts
Of mortal courage. But for my fear, no tidings,
No warning, no alarm had reach’d you.

FIRST SAILOR

Hi, yi! [_He points upward to the Right_] They’re coming!
There’s old Glauc digging down this way.

SECOND SAILOR

[_Spying through his hand_] Alone! by the living gods!

[_Groans are uttered by some of the men, with gestures of disgust and disappointment._]

EURYLOCHUS

Hold; wait!
He waves his staff; he smiles; he brings, be sure,
No grievous answer!

[_Enter GLAUCUS bare-headed, carrying a staff with oak-leaves attached, which he waves to and fro._]

GLAUCUS

All’s well! all’s well, lads! It’s a go; the commander has
struck his colors. We’re off, sure!

[_The men throng about GLAUCUS, some hurrahing and throwing up their caps._]

SEVERAL VOICES

But where is he? What’d he say? When’s he coming?

GLAUCUS

O, belay there! Everything takes time. He had to go and talk
with madam first, of course—and not take French leave like an
orang-outang. He’ll be here in a jiffy.

PHORBAS

Yes; but what’ll she make him say when he does come? I tell you
we’re not well out of this kettle of fish till we’ve cut loose
into high water!

GLAUCUS

Avast! He’ll say what comes into his head. The lady’s got a
head on her too: she’s not the kind of a craft to capsize at
the first catspaw of wind, don’t you believe it!

FIRST SAILOR

Put on a life-preserver, Phorb! Shin up the mast!

ELPENOR

The mast isn’t shinned up itself yet.

EURYLOCHUS

Glaucus, we owe thee thanks.

GLAUCUS

Not a bit of it! I doubt if we’d have dared to tackle him for
another year if you hadn’t put us up to it, old man. But you
may set me to walk the plank if he doesn’t talk fair now.

XENIAS

Hold on, lads! Seats again! there he comes! Stilly, stilly!

[_Enter ULYSSES at the Right, wearing sword and helmet. His aspect is gracious as he comes to a stand near the men, who sit in silence. Before speaking he casts a contemplative glance seaward, then turns toward the vessel._]

ULYSSES

Our good ship! Ah yes; the seams
Gape in her sun-parch’d sides, and rank weeds twine
Their prickly meshes round her shriveling keel.
Yes, yes, my men; full long we have sat still,
Basking in languorous fancy, rapt, unheeding
This summons to the wave. Nor tarried others
Behind, to follow and seize us: as when those
Who clomb the banks of Lotus-land and straying
Ate of the flowery food, their souls
Steep’d in forgetfulness, we seized and bound,
Stifled their cries and dragg’d them to the shore.—
To-day they are no more: so many
Death’s winged minions snatch’d and in wild sport
Flung them to feed the sea-god’s ravenous brood;
Or, on strange shores their white bones strewing, sign’d
The landmarks of our course.—What wonder, then!
What wonder, O brave comrades, if, so spent,
So spared, beaching beside enchanted bowers
Our single bark, lull’d under lustrous skies,
Encircled by fond arms, we linger’d fondly
And long. But now, welcome the tug and strain
Once more, as ye have will’d it: the bent oar,
The creaking rowlock, Zephyrus’ shrill pipe,
The thundrous pounding surge! Nor now, as then,
Shall we unpiloted and blindly plow
Our swift sea-furrow; but wise Circe’s words
Will be to us as beacons. We shall know
What winds press homeward; on which hand to hold
(When oft to night course our sick yearning prompts)
Orion and the Bear.—If only
Her solemn friendly warnings ye can heed,
Which in good time I shall expressly cite,
All may be well.

EURYLOCHUS

Trust your men, sir, for that—leastwise if past experience
avail them anything in the way of instruction for the future.

ULYSSES

So prove it! On the third morn we start. Meanwhile
Let none stand idle! To-day remains in part;
One other day to-morrow, whilst we urge
The labors needful to our voyage. Draw water;
The wine-jars and the barley-crates replenish;
Refit the tackle.—Now let the old ship drink
And plume herself again!

SEVERAL VOICES

[_As the men, who have already sprung from their seats, gather round the vessel_]

Hurrah! hurrah!
Off with her! Rush her out!

GLAUCUS

Look lively, lads! Knock away those props! Clear out the ways
there for’ard!

SEVERAL VOICES

Clear it is! Lively, lively!

ULYSSES

Eurylochus, I depute
To you the furtherance of these tasks. My presence
Another foresight claims.

EURYLOCHUS

Very well; very well, sir!—

[_To the men, some of whom have climbed on deck_]

Drop the bow-chains over there, boys! Catch on, half a hundred
of you! There she goes; steady, steady!

[_The curtain falls as ULYSSES goes out at the Right and the ship, pulled and pushed by many hands, begins to move toward the water._]