In a wide and shallow valley, where the oaks had been cleared away and the sun streamed hotly upon a southern slope, they came upon the house of Circe, daughter of the sun. No human figure could be seen:
But beasts alone,
Hill-wolves and lions, over whom the witch
With evil drugs had her enchantment thrown.[[9]]
Even these creatures made no sound to break the silence that was like a menace, while the sailors stopped awe-struck at the sight. The great house, with its many halls and shining marble pillars, fascinated their sight; and the strange beasts which leapt and fawned around them seemed to invite them to enter. But while they stood in doubt, dreading to advance and yet withheld from flight by some impalpable, resistless power, the sound of a sweet voice rose upon the air. Softly at first it floated out to them, in trembling notes; and they stole forward, drawn by the exquisite melody, until they stood upon the very threshold of Circe’s house.
And now upon the fair-tressed Goddess’ floor
They stood, and from the porches through the door
Heard Circe singing sweetly, as within
She wrought, the deathless high-built loom before.
... They called aloud and cried.