The Cyclops (385-476)

enough for three waggons to carry as their load; next, close by the blazing flame, he placed his couch of pine-boughs laid upon the floor, and filled a bowl of some ten firkins, pouring white milk thereinto, after he had milked his kine;

and by his side he put a can of ivy-wood, whose breadth was three cubits and its depth four maybe; next he set his brazen pot a-boiling on the fire,[*] spits too he set beside him, fashioned of the branches of thorn, their points hardened in the fire and the rest of them trimmed with the hatchet,

and the blood-bowls of Aetna for the axe’s edge.[*] Now when that hell-cook, god-detested, had everything quite ready, he caught up a pair of my companions and proceeded deliberately to cut the throat of one of them over the yawning brazen pot;

but the other he clutched by the tendon of his heel, and, striking him against a sharp point of rocky stone, dashed out his brains; then, after hacking the fleshy parts with glutton cleaver, he set to grilling them, but the limbs he threw into his cauldron to seethe.

And I, poor wretch, drew near with streaming eyes and waited on the Cyclops; but the others kept cowering like frightened birds in crannies of the rock, and the blood forsook their skin.

Anon, when he had gorged himself upon my comrades’ flesh and

had fallen on his back, breathing heavily, there came a sudden inspiration to me. I filled a cup of this Maronian wine and offered him a draught, saying, Cyclops, son of Ocean’s god, see here what heavenly drink the grapes of Hellas yield,

glad gift of Dionysus. He, glutted with his shameless meal, took and drained it at one draught, and, lifting up his hand, he thanked me thus, Dearest to me of all my guests! fair the drink thou givest me to crown so fair a feast.

Now when I saw his delight, I gave him another cup, knowing the wine would make him rue it, and he would soon be paying the penalty. Then he set to singing; but I kept filling bumper after bumper and heating him with drink.

So there he is singing discordantly amid the weeping of my fellow-sailors, and the cave re-echoes; but I have made my way out quietly and would fain save thee and myself, if thou wilt. Tell me then, is it your wish, or is it not, to fly from this unsocial wretch

and take up your abode with Naiad nymphs in the halls of the Bacchic god? Thy father within approves this scheme; but there! he is powerless, getting all he can out of his liquor; his wings are snared by the cup as if he had flown against bird-lime, and he is fuddled; but thou art young and lusty;

so save thyself with my help and regain thy old friend Dionysus, so little like the Cyclops.

Best of friends, would we might see that day, escaping the godless Cyclops! for ’tis long

we have been without the joys of men, unable to escape him.[*]

Hear then how I will requite this vile monster and rescue you from thraldom.

Tell me how; no note of Asiatic lyre would sound more sweetly in our ears than news of the Cyclops’ death.

Delighted with this liquor of the Bacchic god, he fain would go a-revelling with his brethren.

I understand; thy purpose is to seize and slay him in the thickets when alone, or push him down a precipice.

Not at ail; my plan is fraught with subtlety.

What then? Truly we have long heard of thy cleverness.

I mean to keep him from this revel, saying he must not give this drink to his brethren but keep it for himself alone and lead a happy life. Then when he falls asleep, o’ermastered by the Bacchic god,

I will put a point with this sword of mine to an olive-branch I saw lying in the cave, and will set it on fire; and when I see it well alight, I will lift the heated brand, and, thrusting it full in the Cyclops’ eye, melt out his sight with its blaze;

and, as when a man in fitting the timbers of a ship makes his auger spin to and fro with a double strap, so will I make the brand revolve in the eye that gives the Cyclops light and will scorch up the pupil thereof.

Ho! ho! how glad I feel! wild with joy at the contrivance!

That done, I will embark thee and those thou lovest with old Silenus in the deep hold of my black ship, my ship with double banks of oars, and carry you away from this land.

Well, can I too lay hold of the blinding brand, as though the god’s libation had been poured? for I would fain have a share in this offering of blood.

Indeed thou must, for the brand is large, and thou must help hold it.

How lightly would I lift the load of e’en a hundred wains, if that will help us to grub out

the eye of the doomed Cyclops, like a wasp’s nest.

Hush! for now thou knowest my plot in fall, and when I bid you, obey the author of it; for I am not the man to desert my friends inside the cave and save myself alone.