whatever form and feature I had, what praise I’d won, the deathless gods destroyed that day the Achaeans sailed away to Troy, my husband in their ships, Odysseus
Circe — how could any man in his right mind endure the taste of food and drink before he’d freed his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes? If you, you really want me to eat and drink, set them free, all my beloved comrades — let me feast my eyes.