And though yourself to Ithaca may win,
“Late and unhappy shall your coming be,
And all your crew shall perish.“[[9]]
Her black prophecy was fulfilled to the uttermost; and indeed Circe seems destined always to be a baleful augurer to Odysseus. Yet she herself is quite untouched by these mortal woes. When the ship was manned she came down to the sea to speed them away; and our last glimpse of her is as she stands upon the shore, her garments and the tendrils of her hair lightly fluttering, and her lovely body drawn to its height as she raises white arms and cries to the winds to follow them.
They got them in and took their seats again,
And sitting at the benches in array,
Smote with their oars upon the water grey;
Until the fair-tressed goddess terrible,
Circe of mortal voice, to speed our way,
Behind the blue-prowed ship sent forth anon