Eurylochus, who was older than the rest, and liked not the look in
that fair lady's eyes.

"Welcome, fair youths," she said, "to the halls of Circe, daughter of
the sun. Sit ye down, while I prepare you a posset to slake your
thirst on this hot day." So they sat down, and Circe took wine, and
grated cheese, and honey, and barley-meal, and mixed them in a bowl,
muttering strange words, and adding a single drop from a little phial
which she took from a secret cupboard. Then she gave them to drink,
touching them, as she did so, with a wand; and no sooner had they
tasted than their form and countenance was changed into the likeness
of swine, though they kept the mind and feelings of men. Circe now
drove them all together into a stye, and flung down beechmast, and
acorns, and cornel berries, for them to eat.

It was drawing towards noon when Odysseus saw a solitary figure
descending the slope which led down to the beach. "Eurylochus!" he
cried, recognising the familiar features of his squire. "Why comest
thou alone?" For some time Eurylochus was unable to utter a word; at
last he spoke, in a broken and altered voice, while his face was
blanched with deadly terror. "They are gone," he faltered--"spirited
away--vanished without a sign. The place is haunted: let us away!"

Without a word, Odysseus caught up his sword and bow, and ordered
Eurylochus to show him the way to the place where he had lost his men.
But Eurylochus clung to his knees, and besought him to remain, and
prepare for instant flight. Seeing him to be unnerved by terror,
Odysseus bade him stay by the ship, and he himself set out alone to
learn the secrets of this mysterious island.