Book IX

But Odysseus of many a rede thereto he answered and said:
"Alcinoüs, lord and king, the people's foremost head,
The song of such a minstrel most good it is to hear,
The man who in speech made tuneful is the very Godheads' peer.
Indeed for me I say it, that no happier time we bide
Than when the folk and all men are held by the merry tide,
And about the house are they feasting, and the singer's song they hear
All sitting along in order, while full boards before them bear
The bread and the flesh; and the wine-swain from the mixing-bowl filleth up
And beareth forth, and poureth the wine in every cup.
Yea, unto my mind this seemeth a thing most fair to be.
But thy mind hath been turned to ask me of the woful griefs of me,
That with yet heavier heart-grief my woes I may bewail.
But now what first shall I tell thee, what last shall be my tale?
Since the Gods that dwell in the heavens give me such wealth of woe.
"Well, first my name shall I tell you, that ye thereof may know,
And I thereafter 'scaping from the bitter cruel day
To you may give the guest-cheer, though my house be far away.
Odysseus the son of Laertes am I, whom all men heed
For my manifold guile; and my glory to the heavens aloft doth speed.
In Ithaca seen o'er the sea I dwell, and therein is a mound,
E'en Neritos lofty, leaf-shaking; and there in the sea-flood around
Are lying the islands a many, and anigh to each other are these,
As Dulichium and Samos, and Zacynthus of the trees.
Now indeed she lieth lowly, yet the highest up the sea
Toward the dark and the dusk; but the others, toward the east and the sun they be.
Rugged and rocky she is, but fair nurse of menfolk bold;
Nor know I anything sweeter than that land of ours to behold.
But Calypso, Godheads' Glory, me thencefrom did she hoard
In the hollow rocky places, for she longed for me for lord.
And Ææan Circe the guileful, she hid and hoarded me
In her halls in suchlike manner; for her lord she would have me to be.
But the soul in my breast that lieth thereto they might not win,
For nought to a man is sweeter than his fatherland and his kin,
E'en if he hap to be dwelling 'neath a rich and noble roof,
All in an outland country from his kinsfolk far aloof.
But now of my returning will I tell the troublous tale,
And the woe that Zeus laid on me from Troy-town setting sail.
"The wind from Ilios bore me, and me unto Ismarus drew
Of the Cicones: there the city we sacked, and the men we slew,
And their wives we had from the city and plenteous wealth that was there,
And dealt it about, so that no man of me should lack due share.
And thereupon I bade them wet-foot away to flee,
But the stark fools in their folly they nowise heeded me.
For abundant wine were they drinking, and sheep withal good store,
And knock-kneed shambling oxen were they slaughtering on the shore.
And meanwhile went the Cicones crying to others on their way,
E'en Cicones and their neighbours, but more and better than they,
Up-country dwellers, well wotting of the battle from the steed
Mid menfolk: yet a-warring would they wend afoot at need.
So at dawn were they thick as the leaves are, or the blossoms of the spring,
And the doom of Zeus bode with us, an exceeding evil thing,
That we the evil-fated might bear our woes outright.
So there they arrayed the battle, by the swift ships fought the fight;
With the cast of the war-spear brazen together did they play.
And as long as it yet was morning, and waxed the holy day,
Although they were many and more, yet we stood and kept them out.
But when to the tide of unyoking the sun had turned him about.
Then the Cicones bore us aback and outfought the Achæan men,
And of every ship six fellows well-greaved died there and then;
And therewith we fled, we others, from the tide of death and bale.
"Thenceforth with hearts sore grieving yet onward did we sail,
Yet glad from the death escaping which our fellows had foredone.
But verily in nowise did our curving ships pass on
Before for our hapless fellows o'er each aloud we cried,
Who by the Cicones vanquished on the plain of death had died.

"Now Zeus, the Cloud-Pack's Herder, 'gainst our ships a north wind sent,
Falling on with a marvellous whirl-blast, and with clouds he hid and blent
The earth and the sea together, and night fell down from the sky,
And the ships were driven on headlong, and to rags did the sail-cloth fly,
Thrice over and fourfold rended by the storm-blast's very might
So adown in the ship we stowed them, for we feared to perish outright,
And toward the land a-rowing careful we toiled our way.
There then two days unbroken and two long nights we lay,
And with labour and sorrow mingled our hearts were we eating out;
But when the fair-tressed Dawning the third day brought about
We set up the masts, and hauling the white sails up to the breeze,

By wind and rudder faring straight on, we sat at ease.
"And now had I come unscathed to my fatherland at the last,
But as I doubled Malea by the seas, and the northern blast,
And the stream, was I staved off thence and past Cythera to stray.
Thenceforth by baleful winds nine days were we borne away
Across the fishy sea-flood; but the tenth day did we meet
The land of the Lotus-eaters, where a flowery food men eat

"So therewith aland we wended, and drew the water there,
And along by the ships swift-sailing men fell to their dinner-cheer.
But when of meat and of drink we had tasted as was due
Two men I chose from our fellows, and a spokesman I added thereto,
And forth on their ways I sent them that they might learn and tell
What manner of manfolk eating their bread on the land might dwell.
And they, departing, mingled with the Lotus-eaters there;

Who indeed against our fellows devised no evil snare:
But withal they gave unto them to taste of the Lotus meat,
And what man of them soever of that sweet thing did eat
Had no will to bear back tidings or to get him back again;
But to bide with the Lotus-eaters for ever was he fain,
And to eat the Lotus for ever, and forget his returning day.
So perforce these men sore weeping to the ships I dragged away.
In the hollow ships 'neath the benches these men all bound I laid,
And all our other fellows beloved I straightly bade too

To go up on the ships swift-sailing and haste without delay,
Lest some should eat of the Lotus and forget their returning day.
Then aboard straightway they wended and sat on the thwarts alow,
And they smote the grey sea with the oar-blades as they sat along and a-row.

"Then with hearts that were hurt with the evil onward we sailed again,
Till we came to the land of the Cyclops, the overweening men,
The unrighteous: putting their trust in the Gods that ever live,
They plant no plant with their hands, nor afield the plough do they drive,
But all unsown and untilled are all things springing there.
There waxeth the wheat and the barley, and the vine doth her bunches bear
Wine-filled, and from Zeus-bred showers their nourishment they draw;
But with them are no Wise-men Meetings nor giving forth of the law,
But there on the most high mountains they dwell the crags about,
In the hollow dens of the rocks, and each the law gives out
To his own wives and his children, and they heed each other nought
"Know now, that there lieth an island off the land where we were brought,
And the haven of the Cyclops, betwixt near and far away;
Woody it is, and the wild goats thereon unnumbered play,
For no beaten path of menfolk there is the beasts to scare,
Nor yet do the hunters haunt it who toilsome troubles bear
As they wend their ways through the thickets and toil o'er the hill-tops high:
But neither by herds is it holden, nor beneath the plough doth lie,
And every day of the year unsown it is and untilled,
And void of men; but its pastures by the bleating goats are filled.
For no ships have the folk of the Cyclops with cheeks of cinnabar,
Nor yet among them ever ship-making wrights there are
The well-decked ships to fashion, their business to fulfil,
And to flit them to cities of menfolk; as many a man hath will
To the burgs of other people in ships to cross the sea.
Yet might they fashion that island well-habited to be,
For the land is nothing evil, but would bear all things in tide;
And therein are soft watery meadows adown by the grey sea's side,
And every year unfailing would the vine her increase bear;
And plain is the place for ploughing, and a deep crop every year
Should men harvest in due season, for fat beneath is the soil.
And therein is a handy haven, where nought needeth the mooring toil,
Neither the casting of hawsers, nor making the ship's prow fast,
But to beach the keel and be biding till the will to depart at the last
Egg on the shipman to sailing, and the wind ariseth to blow.
Withal at the head of the haven doth a lovely water flow,
A well coming up from a cavern, and about it the poplars stand.
"So thitherward were we sailing, and some God led us on to the land
Amid the dark of the night-tide and nought could be seen about,
For thick was the mist round the ships,and no moon from the heavens shone
But there as then was she hidden amongst the clouds on high.
So none there was of our fellows who beheld the isle anigh, out,
Nor saw we the long billows roll on against the land
Before our ships the well-decked were beached upon the strand.
And so when beached were our keels, then all the sails struck we,
And forth from the ships we wended adown on the shore of the sea,
And there we slept and slumbered and the holy Dawn abode.
"But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Day-dawn, showed,
At the isle we wondered, and traversed about and along it there.
But the Daughters of Zeus the Shielded, the Nymphs now needs must stir
The goats that dwell in the mountains that our folk on their flesh might dine.
So the crooked bows were we taking and the goat-spears long of tyne
From the ships, and therewith our fellows by threes did we array;
And we shot, and the God straight gave us our souls' desire of prey.
Twelve ships my leading followed, and to each did they allot
Nine goats, but for me alone it was ten for my share that I got.
So there daylong we feasted till adown the great sun sank,
And abundant flesh were we eating, and we sat and the sweet wine drank,
For indeed the wine, the ruddy, from our ships lacked not as yet
Since into our pitchers we poured, and good store did each one get
When the holy burg of the Cicons we sacked a while ago.

"So we looked on the land of the Cyclops so near as we were thereto,
And we saw the smoke, and we hearkened men's voices, and goats and
But when the sun sank under and dusk did over us creep,

There did we sleep and slumber the salt sea-beach upon. sheep.
"But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Day-dawn, shone,
Then a meeting of men I 'stablished, and to all spake out my mind:
'Lo ye, my trusty fellows! do the others stay behind
While I with the ship that I sail in and the shipmen under me
Will go and of these make trial, what manner of men they may be;
Whether they be folk o'erweening, wild men unright of mood,
Or of minds that turn them Godward, guest-loving folk and good.'
"So saying I went a-shipboard, and my fellows furthermore
I bade them go a-shipboard and cast off from the shore.
And straight they went up on the ship, and sat down on the thwarts a-low,
And beat the grey sea with the oar-blades as they sat along and a-row.
But when we came to that country, and hard at hand were we,
We espied on the uttermost bent a cavern anigh to the sea,
High, and with bay-trees covered, and flocks were there good store,
Both sheep and goats a-slumbering; and a great garth furthermore
Was built all round about it, with many a deep-set stone
And many a pine long-shafted, and oaks of lofty crown.
But thereby lay a man most mighty, who all those flocks of sheep
Alone and apart was herding, and no fellowship did keep
With others, and lonely dwelling of no law his mind did deem.
Huge, marvellous was he of fashion; nor like to a man did he seem
Who lives by the eating of bread, but e'en as a crag o'ergrown
With wood, that amidst of the mountains stands stark and all alone.
"So I bade our other fellows, the trusty and the bold,
Down there by the ship to be biding, and watch and ward to hold,
While I with twelve men chosen, the best of those men of mine,
Set forth. And I had a goat-skin of the honey-sweet black wine,
The gift of Maron the son of Euanthes, and priest of the Lord
Apollo, who goeth about his Ismarus to ward.
For the man and his wife and his child had we cherished and held good
In our worship, because he was dwelling in the thicket and the wood
Of Phoebus Apollo; whereby he bestowed on me gifts right great;
For of well-wrought gold he gave me up to seven talents weight;
And he gave me a bowl for mixing all silver, and furthermore
The drink of the Gods, unblended sweet wine, for me did he pour
Into twelve fulfilled pitchers; and thereof did no one know
Of all the thralls and handmaids that about his house did go:
But his wife she knew, and one good-wife that to him was lief and dear.
But when of this honey-sweet wine he would drink, the ruddy clear,
Unto twenty measures of water would he pour one cup to be blent;
And wondrous then was the fragrance from the mixing-bowl that went,
And as then to refrain from drinking had no one nigh been glad.

"So thereof a great goat-skin I bore, and meal in a wallet I had,
For the soul that was great within me that day was deeming aright
That a man should come upon me endued with monstrous might,
A wild man knowing no dooms and no setting forth of the law.

"So swiftly we came to the den, nor him within it we saw,
For his fat flocks was he herding in the pasture-land as then;
So we wended us in, and noted all things about the den.
The baskets were heavy with cheeses, and thronged was every fold
With lambs and with kids, and sorted each kind there did he hold.
Apart there were the firstlings, and apart the mid-born were;
And the younglings apart; and all vessels with whey were swimming there,
The pails and the bowls and all things wherein he milked withal.

"Now thereat my fellows besought me with words, that first of all
We should take of the cheeses and go, and then, if so it should be,
The lambs and the kids from the folds to drive down speedily
To the fleeting ship, and therewith o'er the salt sea-water to sail.
But thereto I did not hearken (or better had been the tale)
Until the man I had looked on and the guest-gift of him won.
Forsooth, he became to my fellows nought lovely to look upon.

"So we kindled a fire and we offered, and ourselves of the cheeses we ate,
And there abiding his coming within the den we sat.
Till at last he came herding his sheep, and a mighty burden withal
He bore; dry wood for the firing, when his supper-time should befal:
So he cast it adown with a clatter withinwards there and then,
And we feared and gat us away to a cranny of the den.
Then into the rocky hollow his fatted flock he drave,
All such as were his milch-beasts, but withoutward did he have
The males, both the rams and the he-goats, the deep-walled garth within.
Then he lifted and set a great door-stone, a monstrous weight to win;
Scarce might waggons two-and-twenty, each one four-wheeled and good,
Have stirred that mass so mighty from the floor whereon it stood;
Such a stone, as high as a mountain, he set in the door of his hall.
Then he sat unto milking his ewes and his bleating goats withal,
Doing all in orderly fashion, and 'neath each her suckling he set
Then the white milk half he curdled, and the curds together did get,
And in the wicker presses he laid all that to stand:
But the half he stood in the vessels all ready to his hand,
That thereof he might be drinking when supper-time should be.
But when this work he had speeded and laboured carefully,
Then he kindled a fire and saw us, and began to ask us and say:

"' What are ye then, O strangers? from whence o'er the watery way?
Are ye about some business, or as wantons do ye fare,
As the strong thieves over the waters, who wander here and there,
Of their own souls recking nothing, bearing bale to alien men?'

"So he spake, and the hearts within us were burned up there and then,
For we feared his voice so deep-set, and the man's most monstrous make;
Yet even so with speech-words I answered again and spake:

"' Forsooth we men are Achæans: thrust thwart from Troy are we
O'er the mighty gulf of the sea-flood by all the winds that be,

As homeward we seek: but alien hath our road been and our ways;
For the will of Zeus almighty such weird upon us lays.
We are folk of King Agamemnon, the son of Atreus' name,
Who of all folk under the heavens hath won the fairest fame,
So mighty a burg hath he wasted; such a folk and so many as these
Hath he slain. But we, we are come as suppliants to thy knees,
If some guest-cheer thou wilt make us, or in other wise indeed
Thou wilt give us the gift that of guest folk is the very lawful meed.
But fear thou the Gods, thou most mighty, since we are bedesmen of thee,
And avenger of guests and of bedesmen shall Zeus the Guester be;
And guests that are worthy pity Zeus' help encompasseth.'

"Thus I; but from pitiless heart he answereth thus and saith:
'A fool thou art, O Stranger, if indeed from afar ye fare,
That the Gods thou wouldst have me to worship, and of them to have a
Forsooth of Zeus the Shielded we Cyclops have no heed,
Nor yet of the Gods the Happy: for we are tke better at need. fear:
Nor for Zeus' sake and his anger would I spare thee any whit,
Neither thee nor these thy fellows, save my soul were fain of it.
But where left ye your ship well-fashioned, when hitherward ye would go?
By the outermost ness, or near by? Speak out that I may know.'
"So he spake, but his snare to catch me escaped not me that knew;
And in turn in words that were guileful I answered thereunto:
'Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, brake up our ship with his hand;
For against the crags he cast it at the limits of your land,
When he brought us anigh to the nesses, and the wind from the sea drave on;
But I and these men only the bitter bale did we shun.'
"So I spake, but never an answer from his ruthless mind he made:
But forthwith rushing onward his hands on my fellows he laid,
And clutching two together he dashed them on the ground
Like whelps; and forth flowed the brains and red wet was the earth around.
And then he shredded them limb-meal and both for his supper dight,
And e'en as a hill-bred lion he ate them up outright,
And neither flesh nor inwards, nor marrow-bones left he.
But to Zeus our hands we lifted all weeping wofully,
For all we were helpless and witless when such foul deeds we saw.
"But now whenas the Cyclops had filled his mighty maw,
The flesh of men devouring and of mere milk drinking deep,

Then adown in the den he laid him stretched out amidst his sheep.
Then indeed I fell to counsel with my great heart, whether I
Should come forth from amidst, and drawing my whetted sword from the thigh
Should thrust through his breast where the midriff the liver doth enfold,
Having groped with my hand: but again the mind did the hand withhold;
For so should all we have perished by sharp and bitter bale.,
Because from the lofty doorway our hands might nought avail
To move the mighty door-stone which he thereto had drawn,

So there amid weeping and wailing we bode the Holy Dawn.
"But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Dawn, shone clear,
Then he kindled up the fire and milked his flocks the fair,
With all things done all duly, and 'neath each her suckling laid.
But when he had toiled and hastened and an end of his work had made,
Then he clutched two more of our fellows and dight them for eating again.
And when his fast he had broken his fat sheep he drave from the den,
The great stone easily stirring, wherewith the door he hid
Once more, as on a quiver one shutteth down the lid.
Loud whooping then the Cyclops turned his fat flock toward the hill,
And there was I left in the rock-den in my heart devising ill,
What wise I might avenge me if Athene my glory should speed,
And unto my heart should be shown what best might be my rede.
"Now a mighty club of the Cyclops against the fold did lie,
Of olive green; he had cut it to bear it when 'twas dry:
So huge, that when we saw it it seemed to us as the mast
Of a broad black ship of burden that oft hath overpassed
The mighty gulf of ocean with twenty oars at play;
So huge about was its bigness, and so far along it lay.
So I drew anigh and of it a fathom's length did I shear,
And gave it unto my fellows that they the same might pare;
And they made it smooth as I bade them, and I came and sharpened the end,
Which then in the bright hot fire about and about did I wend;
And I stored it up thereafter, mid the dung I hid it then,
Whereof a great abundance was strawed about the den;
And thereafter I bade the others to cast the lot to see
Which one should have heart and daring to raise that bar with me,
And into his eye to bore it when sweet sleep on him should fall.
And the lot chose those four fellows whom I should have chosen of all,
And I for the fifth was chosen with them to do the thing.

"So came the eve, and he with it his fair flocks shepherding
But all the beasts now drave he into the den wide-spread,
Nor without in the garth the deep-walled did he leave one single head,
Whether somewhat he was foreboding or the God so bade him do.
Then withal the mighty door-stone once more to its place he drew,
And so to the milking his milch-ewes and his bleating goats he sat,
And all things done in order, and 'neath each her suckling he gat:
But when he had hastened and done whatso there was to do,
Once more he clutched and dighted for supper another two.

"Now therewith I spake to the Cyclops, and anigh him took my stand,
And black wine in an ivy cup as I stood I held in my hand:
'Since ye eat man's flesh, O Cyclops, now take and drink the wine,
That ye may know what liquor was stored in that ship of mine;
But I bring thee this drink-offering to win thy ruth thereby,
And that hence thou send me homeward, though thou rage so grievously.
O cruel! and how shall any midst all the many men,
Because of thy deeds unrighteous, hereafter seek to thy den?'

"So I spake, and he took it and drank, and became exceeding fain
Of that sweet drink that I gave him, and besought me of drink again:
'Come, give me the drink and be blythe, and straightway tell me thy name,
That a guest-gift I may give thee to gladden thine heart with the same,
Since verily for the Cyclops the corn-kind earth doth shed
The wine in plenteous bunches by the rain of Zeus full-fed:
But this indeed is handsel of the meat and drink divine.'

"So he spake, and again I gave him of the dark-red glowing wine,
And thrice I bore and gave it, and the fool thrice drank it out.
But when the heart of the Cyclops the wine had encompassed about
Then honied words I uttered, and to speaking thus befel:
'Cyclops, my name renowned thou askest, the which I will tell,
But the guest-gift thou wouldst give me, now give me it me I pray.
My name is Noman: Noman they called me on a day,
My father and my mother, and all my folk of old.'
"So I spake, but straight he answered from cruel heart and cold:
'Noman shall I eat the latest of all his fellows here,
And all the others before him; lo, a guest-gift good and dear!'
"Therewith he fell a backward, and there he lay along,
His thick neck wryed and twisted, and Sleep, the tamer strong,
Held him, and forth from his gullet gushed wine with man's flesh blent,
And with the wine all heavy a belching forth he sent.
So then mid the plenteous ashes the olive bar I laid
Until all warm it was waxen, and words to my fellows I said,
And heartened them all, lest any should fear and shrink away.
"But now when the spar of olive in the fire as there it lay
'Gan kindle for all its greenness, and brightly glowed the wood,
I fetched it up from the fire, and about my fellows stood,
And a stark and mighty courage the God on us did send;
And they took up the shaft of olive, sharp-pointed at the end,
And into his eye they thrust it, while I, raised up aloft,
Kept turning, e'en as a craftsman the ship-beam boreth oft
With the wimble, and on both sides his men still ply the thong
To each side fixed and steady, and it runneth around for long;
E'en so that shaft fire-hardened we took, and the eye of him
We bored, and about it glowing straightway the blood 'gan swim,
And his eyelid and his eyebrow were singed with the breath that came
From the burning ball as the eye-roots all cracked in the heat of the flame:
As when the smith of an hatchet or great axe taketh hold
And dippeth it, hissing loudly, amidst the water cold,
For its tempering; since thus only and thereby the steel is good —
So hissed the eye of the Cyclops around the olive wood.
But his mighty yells were fearful, and the den rang horribly,
Till we shrank away in terror. Then he tore from out his eye
The shaft of sharpened olive all dabbled about with blood,
And raging, aloof he cast it with his hands from where he stood.
"Then he whooped out loud to the Cyclops, they who on either side,
Amid the rocky places of the windy bents abide;

And they heard his cry, and flocking from about there did they stand
Around the den, and were asking what harm was come to hand:
'Polyphemus, what thing grieves thee, that through the deathless night
Thou criest aloud, and hast made us but sleepless folk outright?
Is some one of mortals driving thy flocks against thy will?
Or thyself is some man quelling with might or crafty skill?'

"But the stark strong Polyphemus thus answered them again:
'O friends, Neman me slayeth by guile and not by main!'
"Then with winged words they bespake him, and answered presently:
'If alone thou art abiding and no man enforceth thee,
The ill that great Zeus sendeth, no wight may shun the thing.
But put up the prayer to thy father, Poseidon the mighty king.'

"And with that word they departed, and my dear heart laughed aloud
At my name that had so beguiled him and my worthy rede and proud.
But now the Cyclops, lamenting and moaning very sore,
With his hands went groping about him and took the stone from the door,

And set himself down in the doorway, and stretched his hands about
To take a hold on any with the sheep a-coming out;
For his heart that hope was conceiving, such a fool he accounted me.
"But I for my part took counsel how best the thing might be,

And if some loosing from death for myself and my folk I might find;
And guile and counsel divers therewith did I weave and wind
Concerning our very life-days, since so nigh at hand was the ill —
And so at last to my deeming this seemed the best rede still:
Thick-fleeced were the rams of the sheep-kind, well fed and great and fair,
And dark was the wool and heavy that on them they did bear.
Hushed then I bound them together with withes that for twining were good
That were strawed for the Cyclops' bed-place, the monstrous, unrighteous

of mood.
Threesome I knit them, in suchwise that each midmost bore a man,
And the two on each side going safe-hiding for him wan,

And each three a man were bearing: but for me I took a hold
Of a certain ram, the goodliest of all the flock and fold.
Him round the reins was I clutching; 'neath his shaggy belly twined
I lay, and my hand-grip tightly in his fair fleece did I wind
And held on stoutly, keeping enduring heart alway.

"Thus then we abode in sorrow the holy dawn of day,
But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Day-Dawn, shone,
Then all the rams of the cattle fared out to the field to begone,
While the ewes unmilked and bleating about the folds must go,
For their udders were swollen to bursting. But their King, all worn with woe,
With his hand was ever groping the backs of all the sheep

As they stood up there before him; but the fool no heed did keep
How under the breasts of the fleecy-fair sheep were bound the men.
But the last of the flock, the ram, came forth from the door of the den,

With his plenteous wool encumbered, and with me and my wily thought;
So to him spake the stark Polyphemus, as a hold of him he caught:
"' Dear ram, why then I prithee of the flock art thou the last
To come forth from the den? aforetime ne'er left behind thou wast,
But first of all to be cropping the tender flower of the grass,
Still striding big; and foremost to the river wouldst thou pass.
And, first of all wert thou yearning in the eventide to hie
To the fold: but now art thou latest Is it so that thou mournest the eye
Of thy Master, which he the losel a while ago did blind
With his miserable fellows, when with wine he had vanquished my mind?
That Neman, who, I swear it, hath not yet 'scaped his bane.
Oh, if but as me thou wert minded, and a voice of speech mightest gain
To tell me where in the wide-world the man my might doth shun,
Then here and there o'er the rock-den his blood and brains should run
As against the ground I dashed him, and some solace should I have
For all the heap of evil which the nought-worth Noman gave.'

"So saying, away without doors the ram from his hand he sent,
And a little way from the rock-den and the garth thereof we went;
And then first from the ram I loosed me, and my fellows presently,
And swiftly the flock long-striding, the fat afield drave we,
Oft looking around behind us, till adown by the ship we were.

"Then we from the death escaping were dear to our fellows dear;
But for those the rest that had perished lamenting had they made.
But that I would not suffer, but with frowns each man forbade
To weep, but charged them swiftly the fair-fleeced flock to hale
Aboard, for they were many, and o'er the brine to sail.
So straight aboard they gat them and sat on the thwarts alow,
And beat the grey sea with the oar-blades as they sat along and a-row.
"But when we had made such offing as thence a shout might be heard
I put forth unto the Cyclops a hard heart-cutting word:
'O Cyclops, of no weakling devouredst thou the men
With thy starkness overweening amidst thy rocky den!
Thou cruel! now henceforward on hard days shalt thou fall,
Since thou wouldst be eating guestfolk within thine house and hall.
And now shall Zeus avenge us and the other Gods therefor.'
"So I spake; and the heart within him was angered more and more,
And the head of a mighty rock-mound he wrenched and hurled and threw,
And a little way he cast it before the prow dark-blue,
And the deep of the sea was opened by the downfall of the stone.
Then back unto the mainland the indraught drave us on,
And the flood fell on from the deep sea and drave us nigh the land.
But therewith a pole long-handled I caught up in my hand
And thrust off, bidding my fellows, and egging them amain
To lie hard upon the oar-hefts that we might 'scape our bane,
Wagging my head upon them; and each stretched out over the oar.

"But when twice the space of salt sea we had made from off the shore,
Then again would I cry on the Cyclops; but my fellows all about,
With honied speech on all sides, would be letting me to shout.

"' O rash one! Why then wilt thou the wild man's anger stir?
Whose bolt e'en now hurled seaward drave on our ship anear
Once more unto the mainland, till we deemed we there must die;
For now should he hear one shouting, or a voice as we go by,
Our skulls and our stout ship's timbers he would crush together at last,
By hurling a ragged rock-stone; so stark and far doth he cast!'
"So they spake, but the mighty soul within me nowise bent;
And again from my soul all-wrathful backward a voice I sent:

'O Cyclops, now if any of the men that live to die
Shall ask thee who so foully hath blinded thee thine eye,
Thou shalt say that it came of Odysseus, the city-waster's deed,
Who dwells in the Ithacan homestead, the old Laertes' seed.'

"So I spake, but he groaned as he answered, and a word to meward cast:
'Out, out! How the old foretelling comes home to me at last!
Here dwelt a certain seer, a great and a glorious one,
Who excelled in all foretelling, e'en Telemus, Eurymus' son,
And foretelling amidst of the Cyclops hereby grew old and grey.
But he told me how all these matters should come to pass on a day,
And how I, by the hand of Odysseus, should be reft of my sight and my
But ever was I looking to see some man draw nigh
Who was big and fair of body, and in stark strength mightily clad; eye.
And lo! 'tis a man that is little, a weakling worthless and bad,
Who hath blinded me of my eyesight and overcome me by wine.
But come thou hither, Odysseus, till I give thee that guest-gift of thine,
And beseech the great Earth-shaker to give thee speed o'er the sea:
For I am his child and his offspring, and my father he boasts him to be.
And he, if he so pleaseth, shall make me whole of mine eye,
And none else of the happy Gods, or of men on the earth that die.'

"So he spake; but again I answered, and sent this word on the air:
'O would that I as surely might strip thee waste and bare
Of thy life and soul, and send thee adown to Hades' Hall,
As not e'en the great Earth-shaker shall heal thine eye at all!'

"So I spake; but to King Poseidon he sent the prayer and the word,
As unto the starry heavens he cast his hands abroad:
'Hear me, Dark-haired Poseidon, thou Girdle of the Earth!
If them callest thyself my father, and thine I am of birth,
Grant that Odysseus the Burg-bane, Laertes' son, e'en he,
The man of the Ithacan homestead, his home may never see!
Or if, indeed, he be fated his kin and his friends to behold,
And to come to his house high-builded and the land of his fathers of old,
Then bare of all his fellows, late and loathly may he come,
In the ship of another people to find bale alive at home!'

"In suchwise spake he praying, and the Dark-haired hearkened his prayer;
And withal a stone far greater he raised aloft in air,
And whirled around and cast it, and put forth his measureless might,
And astern of our ship the black-bowed adown in the sea did it light;
And but little it lacked, but the outmost of the helm it lighted on,
And the sea and the deep lay open with the downfal of the stone.
But the swell our ship bore onward and drave on toward the other land.

"So when we came to the island where the rest of the ships of our band,
The well-decked keels, were gathered, and round about the same
There sat our sorrowing fellows, abiding till we came,
Then thither our ship we wended and beached her on the sand,
And we ourselves went off her and on to the salt-sea strand.
And therewith the flock of the Cyclops from the hollow ship we drew,
And so dealt them about that no man of me might lack his due.
But there my well-greaved fellows the ram gave unto me,
As mine own from out the-sharing; and him, by the side of the sea,
Unto Zeus the son of Cronos, Black-cloudy, All-folks' King,
We offered, burning the buttocks: who took not the offering,
But rather was he devising how the bane of one and all,
The well-decked ships and my fellows the faithful might befal.
"So daylong there were we sitting till the going down of the sun,
On the plenteous flesh-meat feasting and sweet wine for every one.
But when the sun sank under and dark night upon us crept,
Then there, on the strand of the deep sea, we laid us down and slept;
But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Day-dawn, shone,
Then I my fellows stirring straight bade and egged them on,
To get them aboard and be loosing the hawsers from the prow.
So aboard they gat them straightway and sat down on the benches alow,
And beat the grey sea with the oar-blades as they sat along and a-row.
"But the bale to our hearts was clinging as forth we sailed and on,
Glad from the death escaping which our fellows had undone."