day, and while we have life we must eat and drink. Better a full
sorrow than a fasting."[1] So they ate and drank, and made good cheer.

[Footnote 1: See the whole incident imitated in Virgil ("Stories from
the Æneid," p. 49).]

Next day Odysseus divided his whole crew into two companies, two and
twenty each, with himself as captain of one division, and Eurylochus,
his faithful squire, in command of the other. Then he drew lots with
Eurylochus to determine which of the two should undertake the perilous
duty of exploring the island. The lot fell upon Eurylochus, and he at
once set forth with his party, pursued by the prayers and tears of
those who remained behind.

Passing the low hills which skirted the coast, they struck into a
forest path, and presently came to an open glade, in the midst of
which stood a fair stone dwelling. And as they came and drew nigh unto
the house they saw a strange sight: before the doors stalked and
glared a multitude of wolves and lions, and other beasts of prey, and
when they saw the men these fearful creatures came fawning round them,
like hounds welcoming their master, and did them no harm.

Quaking with wonder and fear, they came and stood on the threshold,
through which they caught sight of a young and lovely dame, pacing to
and fro about her loom, and weaving a wondrous web, fair and large,
such as the daughters of the gods are wont to weave. And as she plied
her task, she sang to herself in a low and thrilling voice, sad and
sweet as the notes of the Æolian harp. Presently she turned her face
to the doorway, and saw the men standing without. With a bright smile
she came forward, and bade them enter; and they all went in, save only