{"id":115,"date":"2021-05-26T09:19:24","date_gmt":"2021-05-26T13:19:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/odyssey\/chapter\/book-ix\/"},"modified":"2022-02-01T10:52:09","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T15:52:09","slug":"9","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/chapter\/9\/","title":{"raw":"Book IX","rendered":"Book IX"},"content":{"raw":"

Argument<\/b><\/h2>\r\nUlysses discovers himself to the Ph\u00e6acians, and begins the history of his adventures. He destroys Ismarus, city of the Ciconians; arrives among the Lotophagi; and afterwards at the land of the Cyclops. He is imprisoned by Polypheme in his cave, who devours six of his companions; intoxicates the monster with wine, binds<\/span> him while he sleeps, and escapes from him.\r\n\r\nThen answer, thus, Ulysses wise return\u2019d.\r\nAlcino\u00fcs! King! illustrious above all\r\nPh\u00e6acia\u2019s sons, pleasant it is to hear\r\nA bard like this, sweet as the Gods in song.\r\nThe world, in my account, no sight affords\r\nMore gratifying than a people blest\r\nWith cheerfulness and peace, a palace throng\u2019d\r\nWith guests in order ranged, list\u2019ning to sounds\r\nMelodious, and the steaming tables spread\r\nWith plenteous viands, while the cups, with wine\r\nFrom brimming beakers fill\u2019d, pass brisk around.\r\nNo lovelier sight know I. But thou, it seems,\r\nThy thoughts hast turn\u2019d to ask me whence my groans\r\nAnd tears, that I may sorrow still the more.\r\nWhat first, what next, what last shall I rehearse,\r\nOn whom the Gods have show\u2019r\u2019d such various woes?\r\nLearn first my name, that even in this land\r\nRemote I may be known, and that escaped\r\nFrom all adversity, I may requite\r\nHereafter, this your hospitable care\r\nAt my own home, however distant hence.\r\nI am Ulysses, fear\u2019d in all the earth\r\nFor subtlest wisdom, and renown\u2019d to heaven,\r\nThe offspring of Laertes; my abode\r\nIs sun-burnt Ithaca; there waving stands\r\nThe mountain Neritus his num\u2019rous boughs,\r\nAnd it is neighbour\u2019d close by clust\u2019ring isles\r\nAll populous; thence Samos is beheld,\r\nDulichium, and Zacynthus forest-clad.\r\nFlat on the Deep she lies, farthest removed\r\nToward the West, while, situate apart,\r\nHer sister islands face the rising day;\r\nRugged she is, but fruitful nurse of sons\r\nMagnanimous; nor shall these eyes behold,\r\nElsewhere, an object dear and sweet as she.\r\nCalypso, beauteous Goddess, in her grot\r\nDetain\u2019d me, wishing me her own espoused;\r\n\u00c6\u00e6an Circe also, skill\u2019d profound\r\nIn potent arts, within her palace long\r\nDetain\u2019d me, wishing me her own espoused;\r\nBut never could they warp my constant mind.\r\nSo much our parents and our native soil\r\nAttract us most, even although our lot\r\nBe fair and plenteous in a foreign land.\r\nBut come\u2014my painful voyage, such as Jove\r\nGave me from Ilium, I will now relate.\r\nFrom Troy the winds bore me to Ismarus,\r\nCity of the Ciconians; them I slew,\r\nAnd laid their city waste; whence bringing forth\r\nMuch spoil with all their wives, I portion\u2019d it\r\nWith equal hand, and each received a share.\r\nNext, I exhorted to immediate flight\r\nMy people; but in vain; they madly scorn\u2019d\r\nMy sober counsel, and much wine they drank,\r\nAnd sheep and beeves slew num\u2019rous on the shore.\r\nMeantime, Ciconians to Ciconians call\u2019d,\r\nTheir neighbours summoning, a mightier host\r\nAnd braver, natives of the continent,\r\nExpert, on horses mounted, to maintain\r\nFierce fight, or if occasion bade, on foot.\r\nNum\u2019rous they came as leaves, or vernal flow\u2019rs\r\nAt day-spring. Then, by the decree of Jove,\r\nMisfortune found us. At the ships we stood\r\nPiercing each other with the brazen spear,\r\nAnd till the morning brighten\u2019d into noon,\r\nFew as we were, we yet withstood them all;\r\nBut, when the sun verged westward, then the Greeks\r\nFell back, and the Ciconian host prevail\u2019d.\r\nSix warlike Greecians from each galley\u2019s crew\r\nPerish\u2019d in that dread field; the rest escaped.\r\nThus, after loss of many, we pursued\r\nOur course, yet, difficult as was our flight,\r\nWent not till first we had invoked by name\r\nOur friends, whom the Ciconians had destroy\u2019d.\r\nBut cloud-assembler Jove assail\u2019d us soon\r\nWith a tempestuous North-wind; earth alike\r\nAnd sea with storms he overhung, and night\r\nFell fast from heav\u2019n. Their heads deep-plunging oft\r\nOur gallies flew, and rent, and rent again\r\nOur tatter\u2019d sail-cloth crackled in the wind.\r\nWe, fearing instant death, within the barks\r\nOur canvas lodg\u2019d, and, toiling strenuous, reach\u2019d\r\nAt length the continent. Two nights we lay\r\nContinual there, and two long days, consumed\r\nWith toil and grief; but when the beauteous morn\r\nBright-hair\u2019d, had brought the third day to a close,\r\n(Our masts erected, and white sails unfurl\u2019d)\r\nAgain we sat on board; meantime, the winds\r\nWell managed by the steersman, urged us on.\r\nAnd now, all danger pass\u2019d, I had attain\u2019d\r\nMy native shore, but, doubling in my course\r\nMalea, waves and currents and North-winds\r\nConstrain\u2019d me devious to Cythera\u2019s isle.\r\nNine days by cruel storms thence was I borne\r\nAthwart the fishy Deep, but on the tenth\r\nReach\u2019d the Lotophagi, a race sustain\u2019d\r\nOn sweetest fruit alone. There quitting ship,\r\nWe landed and drew water, and the crews\r\nBeside the vessels took their ev\u2019ning cheer.\r\nWhen, hasty, we had thus our strength renew\u2019d,\r\nI order\u2019d forth my people to inquire\r\n(Two I selected from the rest, with whom\r\nI join\u2019d an herald, third) what race of men\r\nMight there inhabit. They, departing, mix\u2019d\r\nWith the Lotophagi; nor hostile aught\r\nOr savage the Lotophagi devised\r\nAgainst our friends, but offer\u2019d to their taste\r\nThe lotus; of which fruit what man soe\u2019er\r\nOnce tasted, no desire felt he to come\r\nWith tidings back, or seek his country more,\r\nBut rather wish\u2019d to feed on lotus still\r\nWith the Lotophagi, and to renounce\r\nAll thoughts of home. Them, therefore, I constrain\u2019d\r\nWeeping on board, and dragging each beneath\r\nThe benches, bound him there. Then, all in haste,\r\nI urged my people to ascend again\r\nTheir hollow barks, lest others also, fed\r\nWith fruit of lotus, should forget their home.\r\nThey quick embark\u2019d, and on the benches ranged\r\nIn order, thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.\r\nThence, o\u2019er the Deep proceeding sad, we reach\u2019d\r\nThe land at length, where, giant-sized[footnote]So the Scholium interprets in this place, the word \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2.[\/footnote] and free\r\nFrom all constraint of law, the Cyclops dwell.\r\nThey, trusting to the Gods, plant not, or plough,\r\nBut earth unsow\u2019d, untill\u2019d, brings forth for them\r\nAll fruits, wheat, barley, and the vinous grape\r\nLarge cluster\u2019d, nourish\u2019d by the show\u2019rs of Jove.\r\nNo councils they convene, no laws contrive,\r\nBut in deep caverns dwell, found on the heads\r\nOf lofty mountains, judging each supreme\r\nHis wife and children, heedless of the rest.\r\nIn front of the Cyclopean haven lies\r\nA level island, not adjoining close\r\nTheir land, nor yet remote, woody and rude.\r\nThere, wild goats breed numberless, by no foot\r\nOf man molested; never huntsman there,\r\nInured to winter\u2019s cold and hunger, roams\r\nThe dreary woods, or mountain-tops sublime;\r\nNo fleecy flocks dwell there, nor plough is known,\r\nBut the unseeded and unfurrow\u2019d soil,\r\nYear after year a wilderness by man\r\nUntrodden, food for blatant goats supplies.\r\nFor no ships crimson-prow\u2019d the Cyclops own,\r\nNor naval artizan is there, whose toil\r\nMight furnish them with oary barks, by which\r\nSubsists all distant commerce, and which bear\r\nMan o\u2019er the Deep to cities far remote\r\nWho might improve the peopled isle, that seems\r\nNot steril in itself, but apt to yield,\r\nIn their due season, fruits of ev\u2019ry kind.\r\nFor stretch\u2019d beside the hoary ocean lie\r\nGreen meadows moist, where vines would never fail;\r\nLight is the land, and they might yearly reap\r\nThe tallest crops, so unctuous is the glebe.\r\nSafe is its haven also, where no need\r\nOf cable is or anchor, or to lash\r\nThe hawser fast ashore, but pushing in\r\nHis bark, the mariner might there abide\r\nTill rising gales should tempt him forth again.\r\nAt bottom of the bay runs a clear stream\r\nIssuing from a cove hemm\u2019d all around\r\nWith poplars; down into that bay we steer\u2019d\r\nAmid the darkness of the night, some God\r\nConducting us; for all unseen it lay,\r\nSuch gloom involved the fleet, nor shone the moon\r\nFrom heav\u2019n to light us, veil\u2019d by pitchy clouds.\r\nHence, none the isle descried, nor any saw\r\nThe lofty surge roll\u2019d on the strand, or ere\r\nOur vessels struck the ground; but when they struck,\r\nThen, low\u2019ring all our sails, we disembark\u2019d,\r\nAnd on the sea-beach slept till dawn appear\u2019d.\r\nSoon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,\r\nLook\u2019d rosy forth, we with admiring eyes\r\nThe isle survey\u2019d, roaming it wide around.\r\nMeantime, the nymphs, Jove\u2019s daughters, roused the goats\r\nBred on the mountains, to supply with food\r\nThe partners of my toils; then, bringing forth\r\nBows and long-pointed javelins from the ships,\r\nDivided all into three sep\u2019rate bands\r\nWe struck them, and the Gods gave us much prey.\r\nTwelve ships attended me, and ev\u2019ry ship\r\nNine goats received by lot; myself alone\r\nSelected ten. All day, till set of sun,\r\nWe eating sat goat\u2019s flesh, and drinking wine\r\nDelicious, without stint; for dearth was none\r\nOf ruddy wine on board, but much remain\u2019d,\r\nWith which my people had their jars supplied\r\nWhat time we sack\u2019d Ciconian Ismarus.\r\nThence looking forth toward the neighbour-land\r\nWhere dwell the Cyclops, rising smoke we saw,\r\nAnd voices heard, their own, and of their flocks.\r\nNow sank the sun, and (night o\u2019ershadowing all)\r\nWe slept along the shore; but when again\r\nThe rosy-finger\u2019d daughter of the dawn\r\nLook\u2019d forth, my crews convened, I thus began.\r\nCompanions of my course! here rest ye all,\r\nSave my own crew, with whom I will explore\r\nThis people, whether wild, they be, unjust,\r\nAnd to contention giv\u2019n, or well-disposed\r\nTo strangers, and a race who fear the Gods.\r\nSo speaking, I embark\u2019d, and bade embark\r\nMy followers, throwing, quick, the hawsers loose.\r\nThey, ent\u2019ring at my word, the benches fill\u2019d\r\nWell-ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.\r\nAttaining soon that neighbour-land, we found\r\nAt its extremity, fast by the sea,\r\nA cavern, lofty, and dark-brow\u2019d above\r\nWith laurels; in that cavern slumb\u2019ring lay\r\nMuch cattle, sheep and goats, and a broad court\r\nEnclosed it, fenced with stones from quarries hewn,\r\nWith spiry firs, and oaks of ample bough.\r\nHere dwelt a giant vast, who far remote\r\nHis flocks fed solitary, converse none\r\nDesiring, sullen, savage, and unjust.\r\nMonster, in truth, he was, hideous in form,\r\nResembling less a man by Ceres\u2019 gift\r\nSustain\u2019d, than some aspiring mountain-crag\r\nTufted with wood, and standing all alone.\r\nEnjoining, then, my people to abide\r\nFast by the ship which they should closely guard,\r\nI went, but not without a goat-skin fill\u2019d\r\nWith sable wine which I had erst received\r\nFrom Maron, offspring of Evanthes, priest\r\nOf Ph\u0153bus guardian god of Ismarus,\r\nBecause, through rev\u2019rence of him, we had saved\r\nHimself, his wife and children; for he dwelt\r\nAmid the grove umbrageous of his God.\r\nHe gave me, therefore, noble gifts; from him\r\nSev\u2019n talents I received of beaten gold,\r\nA beaker, argent all, and after these\r\nNo fewer than twelve jars with wine replete,\r\nRich, unadult\u2019rate, drink for Gods; nor knew\r\nOne servant, male or female, of that wine\r\nIn all his house; none knew it, save himself,\r\nHis wife, and the intendant of his stores.\r\nOft as they drank that luscious juice, he slaked\r\nA single cup with twenty from the stream,\r\nAnd, even then, the beaker breath\u2019d abroad\r\nA scent celestial, which whoever smelt,\r\nThenceforth no pleasure found it to abstain.\r\nCharged with an ample goat-skin of this wine\r\nI went, and with a wallet well supplied,\r\nBut felt a sudden presage in my soul\r\nThat, haply, with terrific force endued,\r\nSome savage would appear, strange to the laws\r\nAnd privileges of the human race.\r\nFew steps convey\u2019d us to his den, but him\r\nWe found not; he his flocks pastur\u2019d abroad.\r\nHis cavern ent\u2019ring, we with wonder gazed\r\nAround on all; his strainers hung with cheese\r\nDistended wide; with lambs and kids his penns\r\nClose-throng\u2019d we saw, and folded separate\r\nThe various charge; the eldest all apart,\r\nApart the middle-aged, and the new-yean\u2019d\r\nAlso apart. His pails and bowls with whey\r\nSwam all, neat vessels into which he milk\u2019d.\r\nMe then my friends first importuned to take\r\nA portion of his cheeses, then to drive\r\nForth from the sheep-cotes to the rapid bark\r\nHis kids and lambs, and plow the brine again.\r\nBut me they moved not, happier had they moved!\r\nI wish\u2019d to see him, and to gain, perchance,\r\nSome pledge of hospitality at his hands,\r\nWhose form was such, as should not much bespeak\r\nWhen he appear\u2019d, our confidence or love.\r\nThen, kindling fire, we offer\u2019d to the Gods,\r\nAnd of his cheeses eating, patient sat\r\nTill home he trudged from pasture. Charged he came\r\nWith dry wood bundled, an enormous load\r\nFuel by which to sup. Loud crash\u2019d the thorns\r\nWhich down he cast before the cavern\u2019s mouth,\r\nTo whose interior nooks we trembling flew.\r\nAt once he drove into his spacious cave\r\nHis batten\u2019d flock, all those which gave him milk,\r\nBut all the males, both rams and goats, he left\r\nAbroad, excluded from the cavern-yard.\r\nUpheaving, next, a rocky barrier huge\r\nTo his cave\u2019s mouth, he thrust it home. That weight\r\nNot all the oxen from its place had moved\r\nOf twenty and two wains; with such a rock\r\nImmense his den he closed. Then down he sat,\r\nAnd as he milk\u2019d his ewes and bleating goats\r\nAll in their turns, her yeanling gave to each;\r\nCoagulating, then, with brisk dispatch,\r\nThe half of his new milk, he thrust the curd\r\nInto his wicker sieves, but stored the rest\r\nIn pans and bowls\u2014his customary drink.\r\nHis labours thus perform\u2019d, he kindled, last,\r\nHis fuel, and discerning us<\/i>, enquired,\r\nWho are ye, strangers? from what distant shore\r\nRoam ye the waters? traffic ye? or bound\r\nTo no one port, wander, as pirates use,\r\nAt large the Deep, exposing life themselves,\r\nAnd enemies of all mankind beside?\r\nHe ceased; we, dash\u2019d with terrour, heard the growl\r\nOf his big voice, and view\u2019d his form uncouth,\r\nTo whom, though sore appall\u2019d, I thus replied.\r\nOf Greece are we, and, bound from Ilium home,\r\nHave wander\u2019d wide the expanse of ocean, sport\r\nFor ev\u2019ry wind, and driven from our course,\r\nHave here arrived; so stood the will of Jove.\r\nWe boast ourselves of Agamemnon\u2019s train,\r\nThe son of Atreus, at this hour the Chief\r\nBeyond all others under heav\u2019n renown\u2019d,\r\nSo great a city he hath sack\u2019d and slain\r\nSuch num\u2019rous foes; but since we reach, at last,\r\nThy knees, we beg such hospitable fare,\r\nOr other gift, as guests are wont to obtain.\r\nIllustrious lord! respect the Gods, and us\r\nThy suitors; suppliants are the care of Jove\r\nThe hospitable; he their wrongs resents\r\nAnd where the stranger sojourns, there is he.\r\nI ceas\u2019d, when answer thus he, fierce, return\u2019d.\r\nFriend! either thou art fool, or hast arrived\r\nIndeed from far, who bidd\u2019st me fear the Gods\r\nLest they be wroth. The Cyclops little heeds\r\nJove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d, or all the Pow\u2019rs of heav\u2019n.\r\nOur race is mightier far; nor shall myself,\r\nThrough fear of Jove\u2019s hostility, abstain\r\nFrom thee or thine, unless my choice be such.\r\nBut tell me now. Where touch\u2019d thy gallant bark\r\nOur country, on thy first arrival here?\r\nRemote or nigh? for I would learn the truth.\r\nSo spake he, tempting me; but, artful, thus\r\nI answer\u2019d, penetrating his intent.\r\nMy vessel, Neptune, Shaker of the shores,\r\nAt yonder utmost promontory dash\u2019d\r\nIn pieces, hurling her against the rocks\r\nWith winds that blew right thither from the sea,\r\nAnd I, with these alone, escaped alive.\r\nSo I, to whom, relentless, answer none\r\nHe deign\u2019d, but, with his arms extended, sprang\r\nToward my people, of whom seizing two\r\nAt once, like whelps against his cavern-floor\r\nHe dash\u2019d them, and their brains spread on the ground.\r\nThese, piece-meal hewn, for supper he prepared,\r\nAnd, like a mountain-lion, neither flesh\r\nNor entrails left, nor yet their marrowy bones.\r\nWe, viewing that tremendous sight, upraised\r\nOur hands to Jove, all hope and courage lost.\r\nWhen thus the Cyclops had with human flesh\r\nFill\u2019d his capacious belly, and had quaff\u2019d\r\nMuch undiluted milk, among his flocks\r\nOut-stretch\u2019d immense, he press\u2019d his cavern-floor.\r\nMe, then, my courage prompted to approach\r\nThe monster with my sword drawn from the sheath,\r\nAnd to transfix him where the vitals wrap\r\nThe liver; but maturer thoughts forbad.\r\nFor so, we also had incurred a death\r\nTremendous, wanting pow\u2019r to thrust aside\r\nThe rocky mass that closed his cavern-mouth\r\nBy force of hand alone. Thus many a sigh\r\nHeaving, we watch\u2019d the dawn. But when, at length,\r\nAurora, day-spring\u2019s daughter rosy-palm\u2019d\r\nLook\u2019d forth, then, kindling fire, his flocks he milk\u2019d\r\nIn order, and her yeanling kid or lamb\r\nThrust under each. When thus he had perform\u2019d\r\nHis wonted task, two seizing, as before,\r\nHe slew them for his next obscene regale.\r\nHis dinner ended, from the cave he drove\r\nHis fatted flocks abroad, moving with ease\r\nThat pond\u2019rous barrier, and replacing it\r\nAs he had only closed a quiver\u2019s lid.\r\nThen, hissing them along, he drove his flocks\r\nToward the mountain, and me left, the while,\r\nDeep ruminating how I best might take\r\nVengeance, and by the aid of Pallas win\r\nDeathless renown. This counsel pleas\u2019d me most.\r\nBeside the sheep-cote lay a massy club\r\nHewn by the Cyclops from an olive stock,\r\nGreen, but which dried, should serve him for a staff.\r\nTo us consid\u2019ring it, that staff appear\u2019d\r\nTall as the mast of a huge trading bark,\r\nImpell\u2019d by twenty rowers o\u2019er the Deep.\r\nSuch seem\u2019d its length to us, and such its bulk.\r\nPart amputating, (an whole fathom\u2019s length)\r\nI gave my men that portion, with command\r\nTo shave it smooth. They smooth\u2019d it, and myself,\r\nShaping its blunt extremity to a point,\r\nSeason\u2019d it in the fire; then cov\u2019ring close\r\nThe weapon, hid it under litter\u2019d straw,\r\nFor much lay scatter\u2019d on the cavern-floor.\r\nAnd now I bade my people cast the lot\r\nWho of us all should take the pointed brand,\r\nAnd grind it in his eye when next he slept.\r\nThe lots were cast, and four were chosen, those\r\nWhom most I wish\u2019d, and I was chosen fifth.\r\nAt even-tide he came, his fleecy flocks\r\nPasturing homeward, and compell\u2019d them all\r\nInto his cavern, leaving none abroad,\r\nEither through some surmise, or so inclined\r\nBy influence, haply, of the Gods themselves.\r\nThe huge rock pull\u2019d into its place again\r\nAt the cave\u2019s mouth, he, sitting, milk\u2019d his sheep\r\nAnd goats in order, and her kid or lamb\r\nThrust under each; thus, all his work dispatch\u2019d,\r\nTwo more he seiz\u2019d, and to his supper fell.\r\nI then, approaching to him, thus address\u2019d\r\nThe Cyclops, holding in my hands a cup\r\nOf ivy-wood, well-charg\u2019d with ruddy wine.\r\nLo, Cyclops! this is wine. Take this and drink\r\nAfter thy meal of man\u2019s flesh. Taste and learn\r\nWhat precious liquor our lost vessel bore.\r\nI brought it hither, purposing to make\r\nLibation to thee, if to pity inclined\r\nThou would\u2019st dismiss us home. But, ah, thy rage\r\nIs insupportable! thou cruel one!\r\nWho, thinkest thou, of all mankind, henceforth\r\nWill visit thee<\/i>, guilty of such excess?\r\nI ceas\u2019d. He took and drank, and hugely pleas\u2019d[footnote]\u039b\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2[\/footnote]<\/sup>\r\nWith that delicious bev\u2019rage, thus enquir\u2019d.\r\nGive me again, and spare not. Tell me, too,\r\nThy name, incontinent, that I may make\r\nRequital, gratifying also thee\r\nWith somewhat to thy taste. We Cyclops own\r\nA bounteous soil, which yields us<\/i> also wine\r\nFrom clusters large, nourish\u2019d by show\u2019rs from Jove;\r\nBut this\u2014this is from above\u2014a stream\r\nOf nectar and ambrosia, all divine!\r\nHe ended, and received a second draught,\r\nLike measure. Thrice I bore it to his hand,\r\nAnd, foolish, thrice he drank. But when the fumes\r\nBegan to play around the Cyclops\u2019 brain,\r\nWith show of amity I thus replied.\r\nCyclops! thou hast my noble name enquired,\r\nWhich I will tell thee. Give me, in return,\r\nThe promised boon, some hospitable pledge.\r\nMy name is Outis,[footnote]Clarke, who has preserved this name in his marginal version, contends strenuously, and with great reason, that Outis ought not to be translated, and in a passage which he quotes from the Acta eruditorum, we see much fault found with Giphanius and other interpreters of Homer for having translated it. It is certian that in Homer the word is declined not as \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2-\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 which signifies no man, but as \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2-\u03c4\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 making \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd in the accusative, consequently as a proper name. It is sufficient that the ambiguity was such as to deceive the friends of the Cyclops. Outis is said by some (perhaps absurdly) to have been a name given to Ulysses on account of his having larger ears than common.[\/footnote] Outis I am call\u2019d\r\nAt home, abroad; wherever I am known.\r\nSo I; to whom he, savage, thus replied.\r\nOutis, when I have eaten all his friends,\r\nShall be my last regale. Be that thy boon.\r\nHe spake, and, downward sway\u2019d, fell resupine,\r\nWith his huge neck aslant. All-conqu\u2019ring sleep\r\nSoon seized him. From his gullet gush\u2019d the wine\r\nWith human morsels mingled, many a blast\r\nSonorous issuing from his glutted maw.\r\nThen, thrusting far the spike of olive-wood\r\nInto the embers glowing on the hearth,\r\nI heated it, and cheer\u2019d my friends, the while,\r\nLest any should, through fear, shrink from his part.\r\nBut when that stake of olive-wood, though green,\r\nShould soon have flamed, for it was glowing hot,\r\nI bore it to his side. Then all my aids\r\nAround me gather\u2019d, and the Gods infused\r\nHeroic fortitude into our hearts.\r\nThey, seizing the hot stake rasp\u2019d to a point,\r\nBored his eye with it, and myself, advanced\r\nTo a superior stand, twirled it about.\r\nAs when a shipwright with his wimble bores\r\nTough oaken timber, placed on either side\r\nBelow, his fellow-artists strain the thong\r\nAlternate, and the restless iron spins,\r\nSo, grasping hard the stake pointed with fire,\r\nWe twirl\u2019d it in his eye; the bubbling blood\r\nBoil\u2019d round about the brand; his pupil sent\r\nA scalding vapour forth that sing\u2019d his brow,\r\nAnd all his eye-roots crackled in the flame.\r\nAs when the smith an hatchet or large axe\r\nTemp\u2019ring with skill, plunges the hissing blade\r\nDeep in cold water, (whence the strength of steel)\r\nSo hiss\u2019d his eye around the olive-wood.\r\nThe howling monster with his outcry fill\u2019d\r\nThe hollow rock, and I, with all my aids,\r\nFled terrified. He, plucking forth the spike\r\nFrom his burnt socket, mad with anguish, cast\r\nThe implement all bloody far away.\r\nThen, bellowing, he sounded forth the name\r\nOf ev\u2019ry Cyclops dwelling in the caves\r\nAround him, on the wind-swept mountain-tops;\r\nThey, at his cry flocking from ev\u2019ry part,\r\nCircled his den, and of his ail enquired.\r\nWhat grievous hurt hath caused thee, Polypheme!\r\nThus yelling to alarm the peaceful ear\r\nOf night, and break our slumbers? Fear\u2019st thou lest\r\nSome mortal man drive off thy flocks? or fear\u2019st\r\nThyself to die by cunning or by force?\r\nThem answer\u2019d, then, Polypheme from his cave.\r\nOh, friends! I die! and Outis gives the blow.\r\nTo whom with accents wing\u2019d his friends without.\r\nIf no man[footnote]Outis, as a name could only denote him who bore it; but as a noun, it signifies no man, which accounts sufficiently for the ludicrous mistake of his brethren.[\/footnote]<\/sup> harm thee, but thou art alone,\r\nAnd sickness feel\u2019st, it is the stroke of Jove,\r\nAnd thou must bear it; yet invoke for aid\r\nThy father Neptune, Sovereign of the floods.\r\nSo saying, they went, and in my heart I laugh\u2019d\r\nThat by the fiction only of a name,\r\nSlight stratagem! I had deceived them all.\r\nThen groan\u2019d the Cyclops wrung with pain and grief,\r\nAnd, fumbling, with stretch\u2019d hands, removed the rock\r\nFrom his cave\u2019s mouth, which done, he sat him down\r\nSpreading his arms athwart the pass, to stop\r\nOur egress with his flocks abroad; so dull,\r\nIt seems, he held me, and so ill-advised.\r\nI, pondering what means might fittest prove\r\nTo save from instant death, (if save I might)\r\nMy people and myself, to ev\u2019ry shift\r\nInclined, and various counsels framed, as one\r\nWho strove for life, conscious of woe at hand.\r\nTo me, thus meditating, this appear\u2019d\r\nThe likeliest course. The rams well-thriven were,\r\nThick-fleeced, full-sized, with wool of sable hue.\r\nThese, silently, with osier twigs on which\r\nThe Cyclops, hideous monster, slept, I bound,\r\nThree in one leash; the intermediate rams\r\nBore each a man, whom the exterior two\r\nPreserved, concealing him on either side.\r\nThus each was borne by three, and I, at last,\r\nThe curl\u2019d back seizing of a ram, (for one\r\nI had reserv\u2019d far stateliest of them all)\r\nSlipp\u2019d underneath his belly, and both hands\r\nEnfolding fast in his exub\u2019rant fleece,\r\nClung ceaseless to him as I lay supine.\r\nWe, thus disposed, waited with many a sigh\r\nThe sacred dawn; but when, at length, aris\u2019n,\r\nAurora, day-spring\u2019s daughter rosy-palm\u2019d\r\nAgain appear\u2019d, the males of all his flocks\r\nRush\u2019d forth to pasture, and, meantime, unmilk\u2019d,\r\nThe wethers bleated, by the load distress\u2019d\r\nOf udders overcharged. Their master, rack\u2019d\r\nWith pain intolerable, handled yet\r\nThe backs of all, inquisitive, as they stood,\r\nBut, gross of intellect, suspicion none\r\nConceiv\u2019d of men beneath their bodies bound.\r\nAnd now (none left beside) the ram approach\u2019d\r\nWith his own wool burthen\u2019d, and with myself,\r\nWhom many a fear molested. Polypheme\r\nThe giant stroak\u2019d him as he sat, and said,\r\nMy darling ram! why latest of the flock\r\nCom\u2019st thou, whom never, heretofore, my sheep\r\nCould leave behind, but stalking at their head,\r\nThou first was wont to crop the tender grass,\r\nFirst to arrive at the clear stream, and first\r\nWith ready will to seek my sheep-cote here\r\nAt evening; but, thy practice chang\u2019d, thou com\u2019st,\r\nNow last of all. Feel\u2019st thou regret, my ram!\r\nOf thy poor master\u2019s eye, by a vile wretch\r\nBored out, who overcame me first with wine,\r\nAnd by a crew of vagabonds accurs\u2019d,\r\nFollowers of Outis, whose escape from death\r\nShall not be made to-day? Ah! that thy heart\r\nWere as my own, and that distinct as I\r\nThou could\u2019st articulate, so should\u2019st thou tell,\r\nWhere hidden, he eludes my furious wrath.\r\nThen, dash\u2019d against the floor his spatter\u2019d brain\r\nShould fly, and I should lighter feel my harm\r\nFrom Outis, wretch base-named and nothing-worth.\r\nSo saying, he left him to pursue the flock.\r\nWhen, thus drawn forth, we had, at length, escaped\r\nFew paces from the cavern and the court,\r\nFirst, quitting my own ram, I loos\u2019d my friends,\r\nThen, turning seaward many a thriven ewe\r\nSharp-hoof\u2019d, we drove them swiftly to the ship.\r\nThrice welcome to our faithful friends we came\r\nFrom death escaped, but much they mourn\u2019d the dead.\r\nI suffer\u2019d not their tears, but silent shook\r\nMy brows, by signs commanding them to lift\r\nThe sheep on board, and instant plow the main.\r\nThey, quick embarking, on the benches sat\r\nWell ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood;\r\nBut distant now such length as a loud voice\r\nMay reach, I hail\u2019d with taunts the Cyclops\u2019 ear.\r\nCyclops! when thou devouredst in thy cave\r\nWith brutal force my followers, thou devour\u2019dst\r\nThe followers of no timid Chief, or base,\r\nVengeance was sure to recompense that deed\r\nAtrocious. Monster! who wast not afraid\r\nTo eat the guest shelter\u2019d beneath thy roof!\r\nTherefore the Gods have well requited thee.\r\nI ended; he, exasp\u2019rate, raged the more,\r\nAnd rending from its hold a mountain-top,\r\nHurl\u2019d it toward us; at our vessel\u2019s stern\r\nDown came the mass, nigh sweeping in its fall\r\nThe rudder\u2019s head. The ocean at the plunge\r\nOf that huge rock, high on its refluent flood\r\nHeav\u2019d, irresistible, the ship to land.\r\nI seizing, quick, our longest pole on board,\r\nBack thrust her from the coast and by a nod\r\nIn silence given, bade my companions ply\r\nStrenuous their oars, that so we might escape.\r\nProcumbent,[footnote]\r\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2\r\n\u2014\u2014\u2014Olli certamine summo\r\nProcumbunt.\r\nVirgil[\/footnote]\r\neach obey\u2019d, and when, the flood\r\nCleaving, we twice that distance had obtain\u2019d,[footnote]The seeming incongruity of this line with line 560, is reconciled by supposing that Ulysses exerted his voice, naturally loud, in an extraordinary manner on this second occasion. See Clarke.[\/footnote]\r\nAgain I hail\u2019d the Cyclops; but my friends\r\nEarnest dissuaded me on ev\u2019ry side.\r\nAh, rash Ulysses! why with taunts provoke\r\nThe savage more, who hath this moment hurl\u2019d\r\nA weapon, such as heav\u2019d the ship again\r\nTo land, where death seem\u2019d certain to us all?\r\nFor had he heard a cry, or but the voice\r\nOf one man speaking, he had all our heads\r\nWith some sharp rock, and all our timbers crush\u2019d\r\nTogether, such vast force is in his arm.\r\nSo they, but my courageous heart remain\u2019d\r\nUnmoved, and thus again, incensed, I spake.\r\nCyclops! should any mortal man inquire\r\nTo whom thy shameful loss of sight thou ow\u2019st,\r\nSay, to Ulysses, city-waster Chief,\r\nLaertes\u2019 son, native of Ithaca.\r\nI ceas\u2019d, and with a groan thus he replied.\r\nAh me! an antient oracle I feel\r\nAccomplish\u2019d. Here abode a prophet erst,\r\nA man of noblest form, and in his art\r\nUnrivall\u2019d, Telemus Eurymedes.\r\nHe, prophesying to the Cyclops-race,\r\nGrew old among us, and presaged my loss\r\nOf sight, in future, by Ulysses\u2019 hand.\r\nI therefore watch\u2019d for the arrival here,\r\nAlways, of some great Chief, for stature, bulk\r\nAnd beauty prais\u2019d, and cloath\u2019d with wond\u2019rous might.\r\nBut now\u2014a dwarf, a thing impalpable,\r\nA shadow, overcame me first by wine,\r\nThen quench\u2019d my sight. Come hither, O my guest!\r\nReturn, Ulysses! hospitable cheer\r\nAwaits thee, and my pray\u2019rs I will prefer\r\nTo glorious Neptune for thy prosp\u2019rous course;\r\nFor I am Neptune\u2019s offspring, and the God\r\nIs proud to be my Sire; he, if he please,\r\nAnd he alone can heal me; none beside\r\nOf Pow\u2019rs immortal, or of men below.\r\nHe spake, to whom I answer thus return\u2019d.\r\nI would that of thy life and soul amerced,\r\nI could as sure dismiss thee down to Hell,\r\nAs none shall heal thine eye\u2014not even He.\r\nSo I; then pray\u2019d the Cyclops to his Sire\r\nWith hands uprais\u2019d towards the starry heav\u2019n.\r\nHear, Earth-encircler Neptune, azure-hair\u2019d!\r\nIf I indeed am thine, and if thou boast\r\nThyself my father, grant that never more\r\nUlysses, leveller of hostile tow\u2019rs,\r\nLaertes\u2019 son, of Ithaca the fair,\r\nBehold his native home! but if his fate\r\nDecree him yet to see his friends, his house,\r\nHis native country, let him deep distress\u2019d\r\nReturn and late, all his companions lost,\r\nIndebted for a ship to foreign aid,\r\nAnd let affliction meet him at his door.\r\nHe spake, and Ocean\u2019s sov\u2019reign heard his pray\u2019r.\r\nThen lifting from the shore a stone of size\r\nFar more enormous, o\u2019er his head he whirl\u2019d\r\nThe rock, and his immeasurable force\r\nExerting all, dismiss\u2019d it. Close behind\r\nThe ship, nor distant from the rudder\u2019s head,\r\nDown came the mass. The ocean at the plunge\r\nOf such a weight, high on its refluent flood\r\nTumultuous, heaved the bark well nigh to land.\r\nBut when we reach\u2019d the isle where we had left\r\nOur num\u2019rous barks, and where my people sat\r\nWatching with ceaseless sorrow our return,\r\nWe thrust our vessel to the sandy shore,\r\nThen disembark\u2019d, and of the Cyclops\u2019 sheep\r\nGave equal share to all. To me alone\r\nMy fellow-voyagers the ram consign\u2019d\r\nIn distribution, my peculiar meed.\r\nHim, therefore, to cloud-girt Saturnian Jove\r\nI offer\u2019d on the shore, burning his thighs\r\nIn sacrifice; but Jove my hallow\u2019d rites\r\nReck\u2019d not, destruction purposing to all\r\nMy barks, and all my followers o\u2019er the Deep.\r\nThus, feasting largely, on the shore we sat\r\nTill even-tide, and quaffing gen\u2019rous wine;\r\nBut when day fail\u2019d, and night o\u2019ershadow\u2019d all,\r\nThen, on the shore we slept; and when again\r\nAurora rosy daughter of the Dawn,\r\nLook\u2019d forth, my people, anxious, I enjoin\u2019d\r\nTo climb their barks, and cast the hawsers loose.\r\nThey all obedient, took their seats on board\r\nWell-ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.\r\nThus, \u2019scaping narrowly, we roam\u2019d the Deep\r\nWith aching hearts and with diminish\u2019d crews.","rendered":"

Argument<\/b><\/h2>\n

Ulysses discovers himself to the Ph\u00e6acians, and begins the history of his adventures. He destroys Ismarus, city of the Ciconians; arrives among the Lotophagi; and afterwards at the land of the Cyclops. He is imprisoned by Polypheme in his cave, who devours six of his companions; intoxicates the monster with wine, binds<\/span> him while he sleeps, and escapes from him.<\/p>\n

Then answer, thus, Ulysses wise return\u2019d.
\nAlcino\u00fcs! King! illustrious above all
\nPh\u00e6acia\u2019s sons, pleasant it is to hear
\nA bard like this, sweet as the Gods in song.
\nThe world, in my account, no sight affords
\nMore gratifying than a people blest
\nWith cheerfulness and peace, a palace throng\u2019d
\nWith guests in order ranged, list\u2019ning to sounds
\nMelodious, and the steaming tables spread
\nWith plenteous viands, while the cups, with wine
\nFrom brimming beakers fill\u2019d, pass brisk around.
\nNo lovelier sight know I. But thou, it seems,
\nThy thoughts hast turn\u2019d to ask me whence my groans
\nAnd tears, that I may sorrow still the more.
\nWhat first, what next, what last shall I rehearse,
\nOn whom the Gods have show\u2019r\u2019d such various woes?
\nLearn first my name, that even in this land
\nRemote I may be known, and that escaped
\nFrom all adversity, I may requite
\nHereafter, this your hospitable care
\nAt my own home, however distant hence.
\nI am Ulysses, fear\u2019d in all the earth
\nFor subtlest wisdom, and renown\u2019d to heaven,
\nThe offspring of Laertes; my abode
\nIs sun-burnt Ithaca; there waving stands
\nThe mountain Neritus his num\u2019rous boughs,
\nAnd it is neighbour\u2019d close by clust\u2019ring isles
\nAll populous; thence Samos is beheld,
\nDulichium, and Zacynthus forest-clad.
\nFlat on the Deep she lies, farthest removed
\nToward the West, while, situate apart,
\nHer sister islands face the rising day;
\nRugged she is, but fruitful nurse of sons
\nMagnanimous; nor shall these eyes behold,
\nElsewhere, an object dear and sweet as she.
\nCalypso, beauteous Goddess, in her grot
\nDetain\u2019d me, wishing me her own espoused;
\n\u00c6\u00e6an Circe also, skill\u2019d profound
\nIn potent arts, within her palace long
\nDetain\u2019d me, wishing me her own espoused;
\nBut never could they warp my constant mind.
\nSo much our parents and our native soil
\nAttract us most, even although our lot
\nBe fair and plenteous in a foreign land.
\nBut come\u2014my painful voyage, such as Jove
\nGave me from Ilium, I will now relate.
\nFrom Troy the winds bore me to Ismarus,
\nCity of the Ciconians; them I slew,
\nAnd laid their city waste; whence bringing forth
\nMuch spoil with all their wives, I portion\u2019d it
\nWith equal hand, and each received a share.
\nNext, I exhorted to immediate flight
\nMy people; but in vain; they madly scorn\u2019d
\nMy sober counsel, and much wine they drank,
\nAnd sheep and beeves slew num\u2019rous on the shore.
\nMeantime, Ciconians to Ciconians call\u2019d,
\nTheir neighbours summoning, a mightier host
\nAnd braver, natives of the continent,
\nExpert, on horses mounted, to maintain
\nFierce fight, or if occasion bade, on foot.
\nNum\u2019rous they came as leaves, or vernal flow\u2019rs
\nAt day-spring. Then, by the decree of Jove,
\nMisfortune found us. At the ships we stood
\nPiercing each other with the brazen spear,
\nAnd till the morning brighten\u2019d into noon,
\nFew as we were, we yet withstood them all;
\nBut, when the sun verged westward, then the Greeks
\nFell back, and the Ciconian host prevail\u2019d.
\nSix warlike Greecians from each galley\u2019s crew
\nPerish\u2019d in that dread field; the rest escaped.
\nThus, after loss of many, we pursued
\nOur course, yet, difficult as was our flight,
\nWent not till first we had invoked by name
\nOur friends, whom the Ciconians had destroy\u2019d.
\nBut cloud-assembler Jove assail\u2019d us soon
\nWith a tempestuous North-wind; earth alike
\nAnd sea with storms he overhung, and night
\nFell fast from heav\u2019n. Their heads deep-plunging oft
\nOur gallies flew, and rent, and rent again
\nOur tatter\u2019d sail-cloth crackled in the wind.
\nWe, fearing instant death, within the barks
\nOur canvas lodg\u2019d, and, toiling strenuous, reach\u2019d
\nAt length the continent. Two nights we lay
\nContinual there, and two long days, consumed
\nWith toil and grief; but when the beauteous morn
\nBright-hair\u2019d, had brought the third day to a close,
\n(Our masts erected, and white sails unfurl\u2019d)
\nAgain we sat on board; meantime, the winds
\nWell managed by the steersman, urged us on.
\nAnd now, all danger pass\u2019d, I had attain\u2019d
\nMy native shore, but, doubling in my course
\nMalea, waves and currents and North-winds
\nConstrain\u2019d me devious to Cythera\u2019s isle.
\nNine days by cruel storms thence was I borne
\nAthwart the fishy Deep, but on the tenth
\nReach\u2019d the Lotophagi, a race sustain\u2019d
\nOn sweetest fruit alone. There quitting ship,
\nWe landed and drew water, and the crews
\nBeside the vessels took their ev\u2019ning cheer.
\nWhen, hasty, we had thus our strength renew\u2019d,
\nI order\u2019d forth my people to inquire
\n(Two I selected from the rest, with whom
\nI join\u2019d an herald, third) what race of men
\nMight there inhabit. They, departing, mix\u2019d
\nWith the Lotophagi; nor hostile aught
\nOr savage the Lotophagi devised
\nAgainst our friends, but offer\u2019d to their taste
\nThe lotus; of which fruit what man soe\u2019er
\nOnce tasted, no desire felt he to come
\nWith tidings back, or seek his country more,
\nBut rather wish\u2019d to feed on lotus still
\nWith the Lotophagi, and to renounce
\nAll thoughts of home. Them, therefore, I constrain\u2019d
\nWeeping on board, and dragging each beneath
\nThe benches, bound him there. Then, all in haste,
\nI urged my people to ascend again
\nTheir hollow barks, lest others also, fed
\nWith fruit of lotus, should forget their home.
\nThey quick embark\u2019d, and on the benches ranged
\nIn order, thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.
\nThence, o\u2019er the Deep proceeding sad, we reach\u2019d
\nThe land at length, where, giant-sized[1]<\/sup><\/a> and free
\nFrom all constraint of law, the Cyclops dwell.
\nThey, trusting to the Gods, plant not, or plough,
\nBut earth unsow\u2019d, untill\u2019d, brings forth for them
\nAll fruits, wheat, barley, and the vinous grape
\nLarge cluster\u2019d, nourish\u2019d by the show\u2019rs of Jove.
\nNo councils they convene, no laws contrive,
\nBut in deep caverns dwell, found on the heads
\nOf lofty mountains, judging each supreme
\nHis wife and children, heedless of the rest.
\nIn front of the Cyclopean haven lies
\nA level island, not adjoining close
\nTheir land, nor yet remote, woody and rude.
\nThere, wild goats breed numberless, by no foot
\nOf man molested; never huntsman there,
\nInured to winter\u2019s cold and hunger, roams
\nThe dreary woods, or mountain-tops sublime;
\nNo fleecy flocks dwell there, nor plough is known,
\nBut the unseeded and unfurrow\u2019d soil,
\nYear after year a wilderness by man
\nUntrodden, food for blatant goats supplies.
\nFor no ships crimson-prow\u2019d the Cyclops own,
\nNor naval artizan is there, whose toil
\nMight furnish them with oary barks, by which
\nSubsists all distant commerce, and which bear
\nMan o\u2019er the Deep to cities far remote
\nWho might improve the peopled isle, that seems
\nNot steril in itself, but apt to yield,
\nIn their due season, fruits of ev\u2019ry kind.
\nFor stretch\u2019d beside the hoary ocean lie
\nGreen meadows moist, where vines would never fail;
\nLight is the land, and they might yearly reap
\nThe tallest crops, so unctuous is the glebe.
\nSafe is its haven also, where no need
\nOf cable is or anchor, or to lash
\nThe hawser fast ashore, but pushing in
\nHis bark, the mariner might there abide
\nTill rising gales should tempt him forth again.
\nAt bottom of the bay runs a clear stream
\nIssuing from a cove hemm\u2019d all around
\nWith poplars; down into that bay we steer\u2019d
\nAmid the darkness of the night, some God
\nConducting us; for all unseen it lay,
\nSuch gloom involved the fleet, nor shone the moon
\nFrom heav\u2019n to light us, veil\u2019d by pitchy clouds.
\nHence, none the isle descried, nor any saw
\nThe lofty surge roll\u2019d on the strand, or ere
\nOur vessels struck the ground; but when they struck,
\nThen, low\u2019ring all our sails, we disembark\u2019d,
\nAnd on the sea-beach slept till dawn appear\u2019d.
\nSoon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
\nLook\u2019d rosy forth, we with admiring eyes
\nThe isle survey\u2019d, roaming it wide around.
\nMeantime, the nymphs, Jove\u2019s daughters, roused the goats
\nBred on the mountains, to supply with food
\nThe partners of my toils; then, bringing forth
\nBows and long-pointed javelins from the ships,
\nDivided all into three sep\u2019rate bands
\nWe struck them, and the Gods gave us much prey.
\nTwelve ships attended me, and ev\u2019ry ship
\nNine goats received by lot; myself alone
\nSelected ten. All day, till set of sun,
\nWe eating sat goat\u2019s flesh, and drinking wine
\nDelicious, without stint; for dearth was none
\nOf ruddy wine on board, but much remain\u2019d,
\nWith which my people had their jars supplied
\nWhat time we sack\u2019d Ciconian Ismarus.
\nThence looking forth toward the neighbour-land
\nWhere dwell the Cyclops, rising smoke we saw,
\nAnd voices heard, their own, and of their flocks.
\nNow sank the sun, and (night o\u2019ershadowing all)
\nWe slept along the shore; but when again
\nThe rosy-finger\u2019d daughter of the dawn
\nLook\u2019d forth, my crews convened, I thus began.
\nCompanions of my course! here rest ye all,
\nSave my own crew, with whom I will explore
\nThis people, whether wild, they be, unjust,
\nAnd to contention giv\u2019n, or well-disposed
\nTo strangers, and a race who fear the Gods.
\nSo speaking, I embark\u2019d, and bade embark
\nMy followers, throwing, quick, the hawsers loose.
\nThey, ent\u2019ring at my word, the benches fill\u2019d
\nWell-ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.
\nAttaining soon that neighbour-land, we found
\nAt its extremity, fast by the sea,
\nA cavern, lofty, and dark-brow\u2019d above
\nWith laurels; in that cavern slumb\u2019ring lay
\nMuch cattle, sheep and goats, and a broad court
\nEnclosed it, fenced with stones from quarries hewn,
\nWith spiry firs, and oaks of ample bough.
\nHere dwelt a giant vast, who far remote
\nHis flocks fed solitary, converse none
\nDesiring, sullen, savage, and unjust.
\nMonster, in truth, he was, hideous in form,
\nResembling less a man by Ceres\u2019 gift
\nSustain\u2019d, than some aspiring mountain-crag
\nTufted with wood, and standing all alone.
\nEnjoining, then, my people to abide
\nFast by the ship which they should closely guard,
\nI went, but not without a goat-skin fill\u2019d
\nWith sable wine which I had erst received
\nFrom Maron, offspring of Evanthes, priest
\nOf Ph\u0153bus guardian god of Ismarus,
\nBecause, through rev\u2019rence of him, we had saved
\nHimself, his wife and children; for he dwelt
\nAmid the grove umbrageous of his God.
\nHe gave me, therefore, noble gifts; from him
\nSev\u2019n talents I received of beaten gold,
\nA beaker, argent all, and after these
\nNo fewer than twelve jars with wine replete,
\nRich, unadult\u2019rate, drink for Gods; nor knew
\nOne servant, male or female, of that wine
\nIn all his house; none knew it, save himself,
\nHis wife, and the intendant of his stores.
\nOft as they drank that luscious juice, he slaked
\nA single cup with twenty from the stream,
\nAnd, even then, the beaker breath\u2019d abroad
\nA scent celestial, which whoever smelt,
\nThenceforth no pleasure found it to abstain.
\nCharged with an ample goat-skin of this wine
\nI went, and with a wallet well supplied,
\nBut felt a sudden presage in my soul
\nThat, haply, with terrific force endued,
\nSome savage would appear, strange to the laws
\nAnd privileges of the human race.
\nFew steps convey\u2019d us to his den, but him
\nWe found not; he his flocks pastur\u2019d abroad.
\nHis cavern ent\u2019ring, we with wonder gazed
\nAround on all; his strainers hung with cheese
\nDistended wide; with lambs and kids his penns
\nClose-throng\u2019d we saw, and folded separate
\nThe various charge; the eldest all apart,
\nApart the middle-aged, and the new-yean\u2019d
\nAlso apart. His pails and bowls with whey
\nSwam all, neat vessels into which he milk\u2019d.
\nMe then my friends first importuned to take
\nA portion of his cheeses, then to drive
\nForth from the sheep-cotes to the rapid bark
\nHis kids and lambs, and plow the brine again.
\nBut me they moved not, happier had they moved!
\nI wish\u2019d to see him, and to gain, perchance,
\nSome pledge of hospitality at his hands,
\nWhose form was such, as should not much bespeak
\nWhen he appear\u2019d, our confidence or love.
\nThen, kindling fire, we offer\u2019d to the Gods,
\nAnd of his cheeses eating, patient sat
\nTill home he trudged from pasture. Charged he came
\nWith dry wood bundled, an enormous load
\nFuel by which to sup. Loud crash\u2019d the thorns
\nWhich down he cast before the cavern\u2019s mouth,
\nTo whose interior nooks we trembling flew.
\nAt once he drove into his spacious cave
\nHis batten\u2019d flock, all those which gave him milk,
\nBut all the males, both rams and goats, he left
\nAbroad, excluded from the cavern-yard.
\nUpheaving, next, a rocky barrier huge
\nTo his cave\u2019s mouth, he thrust it home. That weight
\nNot all the oxen from its place had moved
\nOf twenty and two wains; with such a rock
\nImmense his den he closed. Then down he sat,
\nAnd as he milk\u2019d his ewes and bleating goats
\nAll in their turns, her yeanling gave to each;
\nCoagulating, then, with brisk dispatch,
\nThe half of his new milk, he thrust the curd
\nInto his wicker sieves, but stored the rest
\nIn pans and bowls\u2014his customary drink.
\nHis labours thus perform\u2019d, he kindled, last,
\nHis fuel, and discerning us<\/i>, enquired,
\nWho are ye, strangers? from what distant shore
\nRoam ye the waters? traffic ye? or bound
\nTo no one port, wander, as pirates use,
\nAt large the Deep, exposing life themselves,
\nAnd enemies of all mankind beside?
\nHe ceased; we, dash\u2019d with terrour, heard the growl
\nOf his big voice, and view\u2019d his form uncouth,
\nTo whom, though sore appall\u2019d, I thus replied.
\nOf Greece are we, and, bound from Ilium home,
\nHave wander\u2019d wide the expanse of ocean, sport
\nFor ev\u2019ry wind, and driven from our course,
\nHave here arrived; so stood the will of Jove.
\nWe boast ourselves of Agamemnon\u2019s train,
\nThe son of Atreus, at this hour the Chief
\nBeyond all others under heav\u2019n renown\u2019d,
\nSo great a city he hath sack\u2019d and slain
\nSuch num\u2019rous foes; but since we reach, at last,
\nThy knees, we beg such hospitable fare,
\nOr other gift, as guests are wont to obtain.
\nIllustrious lord! respect the Gods, and us
\nThy suitors; suppliants are the care of Jove
\nThe hospitable; he their wrongs resents
\nAnd where the stranger sojourns, there is he.
\nI ceas\u2019d, when answer thus he, fierce, return\u2019d.
\nFriend! either thou art fool, or hast arrived
\nIndeed from far, who bidd\u2019st me fear the Gods
\nLest they be wroth. The Cyclops little heeds
\nJove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d, or all the Pow\u2019rs of heav\u2019n.
\nOur race is mightier far; nor shall myself,
\nThrough fear of Jove\u2019s hostility, abstain
\nFrom thee or thine, unless my choice be such.
\nBut tell me now. Where touch\u2019d thy gallant bark
\nOur country, on thy first arrival here?
\nRemote or nigh? for I would learn the truth.
\nSo spake he, tempting me; but, artful, thus
\nI answer\u2019d, penetrating his intent.
\nMy vessel, Neptune, Shaker of the shores,
\nAt yonder utmost promontory dash\u2019d
\nIn pieces, hurling her against the rocks
\nWith winds that blew right thither from the sea,
\nAnd I, with these alone, escaped alive.
\nSo I, to whom, relentless, answer none
\nHe deign\u2019d, but, with his arms extended, sprang
\nToward my people, of whom seizing two
\nAt once, like whelps against his cavern-floor
\nHe dash\u2019d them, and their brains spread on the ground.
\nThese, piece-meal hewn, for supper he prepared,
\nAnd, like a mountain-lion, neither flesh
\nNor entrails left, nor yet their marrowy bones.
\nWe, viewing that tremendous sight, upraised
\nOur hands to Jove, all hope and courage lost.
\nWhen thus the Cyclops had with human flesh
\nFill\u2019d his capacious belly, and had quaff\u2019d
\nMuch undiluted milk, among his flocks
\nOut-stretch\u2019d immense, he press\u2019d his cavern-floor.
\nMe, then, my courage prompted to approach
\nThe monster with my sword drawn from the sheath,
\nAnd to transfix him where the vitals wrap
\nThe liver; but maturer thoughts forbad.
\nFor so, we also had incurred a death
\nTremendous, wanting pow\u2019r to thrust aside
\nThe rocky mass that closed his cavern-mouth
\nBy force of hand alone. Thus many a sigh
\nHeaving, we watch\u2019d the dawn. But when, at length,
\nAurora, day-spring\u2019s daughter rosy-palm\u2019d
\nLook\u2019d forth, then, kindling fire, his flocks he milk\u2019d
\nIn order, and her yeanling kid or lamb
\nThrust under each. When thus he had perform\u2019d
\nHis wonted task, two seizing, as before,
\nHe slew them for his next obscene regale.
\nHis dinner ended, from the cave he drove
\nHis fatted flocks abroad, moving with ease
\nThat pond\u2019rous barrier, and replacing it
\nAs he had only closed a quiver\u2019s lid.
\nThen, hissing them along, he drove his flocks
\nToward the mountain, and me left, the while,
\nDeep ruminating how I best might take
\nVengeance, and by the aid of Pallas win
\nDeathless renown. This counsel pleas\u2019d me most.
\nBeside the sheep-cote lay a massy club
\nHewn by the Cyclops from an olive stock,
\nGreen, but which dried, should serve him for a staff.
\nTo us consid\u2019ring it, that staff appear\u2019d
\nTall as the mast of a huge trading bark,
\nImpell\u2019d by twenty rowers o\u2019er the Deep.
\nSuch seem\u2019d its length to us, and such its bulk.
\nPart amputating, (an whole fathom\u2019s length)
\nI gave my men that portion, with command
\nTo shave it smooth. They smooth\u2019d it, and myself,
\nShaping its blunt extremity to a point,
\nSeason\u2019d it in the fire; then cov\u2019ring close
\nThe weapon, hid it under litter\u2019d straw,
\nFor much lay scatter\u2019d on the cavern-floor.
\nAnd now I bade my people cast the lot
\nWho of us all should take the pointed brand,
\nAnd grind it in his eye when next he slept.
\nThe lots were cast, and four were chosen, those
\nWhom most I wish\u2019d, and I was chosen fifth.
\nAt even-tide he came, his fleecy flocks
\nPasturing homeward, and compell\u2019d them all
\nInto his cavern, leaving none abroad,
\nEither through some surmise, or so inclined
\nBy influence, haply, of the Gods themselves.
\nThe huge rock pull\u2019d into its place again
\nAt the cave\u2019s mouth, he, sitting, milk\u2019d his sheep
\nAnd goats in order, and her kid or lamb
\nThrust under each; thus, all his work dispatch\u2019d,
\nTwo more he seiz\u2019d, and to his supper fell.
\nI then, approaching to him, thus address\u2019d
\nThe Cyclops, holding in my hands a cup
\nOf ivy-wood, well-charg\u2019d with ruddy wine.
\nLo, Cyclops! this is wine. Take this and drink
\nAfter thy meal of man\u2019s flesh. Taste and learn
\nWhat precious liquor our lost vessel bore.
\nI brought it hither, purposing to make
\nLibation to thee, if to pity inclined
\nThou would\u2019st dismiss us home. But, ah, thy rage
\nIs insupportable! thou cruel one!
\nWho, thinkest thou, of all mankind, henceforth
\nWill visit thee<\/i>, guilty of such excess?
\nI ceas\u2019d. He took and drank, and hugely pleas\u2019d[2]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup>
\nWith that delicious bev\u2019rage, thus enquir\u2019d.
\nGive me again, and spare not. Tell me, too,
\nThy name, incontinent, that I may make
\nRequital, gratifying also thee
\nWith somewhat to thy taste. We Cyclops own
\nA bounteous soil, which yields us<\/i> also wine
\nFrom clusters large, nourish\u2019d by show\u2019rs from Jove;
\nBut this\u2014this is from above\u2014a stream
\nOf nectar and ambrosia, all divine!
\nHe ended, and received a second draught,
\nLike measure. Thrice I bore it to his hand,
\nAnd, foolish, thrice he drank. But when the fumes
\nBegan to play around the Cyclops\u2019 brain,
\nWith show of amity I thus replied.
\nCyclops! thou hast my noble name enquired,
\nWhich I will tell thee. Give me, in return,
\nThe promised boon, some hospitable pledge.
\nMy name is Outis,[3]<\/sup><\/a> Outis I am call\u2019d
\nAt home, abroad; wherever I am known.
\nSo I; to whom he, savage, thus replied.
\nOutis, when I have eaten all his friends,
\nShall be my last regale. Be that thy boon.
\nHe spake, and, downward sway\u2019d, fell resupine,
\nWith his huge neck aslant. All-conqu\u2019ring sleep
\nSoon seized him. From his gullet gush\u2019d the wine
\nWith human morsels mingled, many a blast
\nSonorous issuing from his glutted maw.
\nThen, thrusting far the spike of olive-wood
\nInto the embers glowing on the hearth,
\nI heated it, and cheer\u2019d my friends, the while,
\nLest any should, through fear, shrink from his part.
\nBut when that stake of olive-wood, though green,
\nShould soon have flamed, for it was glowing hot,
\nI bore it to his side. Then all my aids
\nAround me gather\u2019d, and the Gods infused
\nHeroic fortitude into our hearts.
\nThey, seizing the hot stake rasp\u2019d to a point,
\nBored his eye with it, and myself, advanced
\nTo a superior stand, twirled it about.
\nAs when a shipwright with his wimble bores
\nTough oaken timber, placed on either side
\nBelow, his fellow-artists strain the thong
\nAlternate, and the restless iron spins,
\nSo, grasping hard the stake pointed with fire,
\nWe twirl\u2019d it in his eye; the bubbling blood
\nBoil\u2019d round about the brand; his pupil sent
\nA scalding vapour forth that sing\u2019d his brow,
\nAnd all his eye-roots crackled in the flame.
\nAs when the smith an hatchet or large axe
\nTemp\u2019ring with skill, plunges the hissing blade
\nDeep in cold water, (whence the strength of steel)
\nSo hiss\u2019d his eye around the olive-wood.
\nThe howling monster with his outcry fill\u2019d
\nThe hollow rock, and I, with all my aids,
\nFled terrified. He, plucking forth the spike
\nFrom his burnt socket, mad with anguish, cast
\nThe implement all bloody far away.
\nThen, bellowing, he sounded forth the name
\nOf ev\u2019ry Cyclops dwelling in the caves
\nAround him, on the wind-swept mountain-tops;
\nThey, at his cry flocking from ev\u2019ry part,
\nCircled his den, and of his ail enquired.
\nWhat grievous hurt hath caused thee, Polypheme!
\nThus yelling to alarm the peaceful ear
\nOf night, and break our slumbers? Fear\u2019st thou lest
\nSome mortal man drive off thy flocks? or fear\u2019st
\nThyself to die by cunning or by force?
\nThem answer\u2019d, then, Polypheme from his cave.
\nOh, friends! I die! and Outis gives the blow.
\nTo whom with accents wing\u2019d his friends without.
\nIf no man[4]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup> harm thee, but thou art alone,
\nAnd sickness feel\u2019st, it is the stroke of Jove,
\nAnd thou must bear it; yet invoke for aid
\nThy father Neptune, Sovereign of the floods.
\nSo saying, they went, and in my heart I laugh\u2019d
\nThat by the fiction only of a name,
\nSlight stratagem! I had deceived them all.
\nThen groan\u2019d the Cyclops wrung with pain and grief,
\nAnd, fumbling, with stretch\u2019d hands, removed the rock
\nFrom his cave\u2019s mouth, which done, he sat him down
\nSpreading his arms athwart the pass, to stop
\nOur egress with his flocks abroad; so dull,
\nIt seems, he held me, and so ill-advised.
\nI, pondering what means might fittest prove
\nTo save from instant death, (if save I might)
\nMy people and myself, to ev\u2019ry shift
\nInclined, and various counsels framed, as one
\nWho strove for life, conscious of woe at hand.
\nTo me, thus meditating, this appear\u2019d
\nThe likeliest course. The rams well-thriven were,
\nThick-fleeced, full-sized, with wool of sable hue.
\nThese, silently, with osier twigs on which
\nThe Cyclops, hideous monster, slept, I bound,
\nThree in one leash; the intermediate rams
\nBore each a man, whom the exterior two
\nPreserved, concealing him on either side.
\nThus each was borne by three, and I, at last,
\nThe curl\u2019d back seizing of a ram, (for one
\nI had reserv\u2019d far stateliest of them all)
\nSlipp\u2019d underneath his belly, and both hands
\nEnfolding fast in his exub\u2019rant fleece,
\nClung ceaseless to him as I lay supine.
\nWe, thus disposed, waited with many a sigh
\nThe sacred dawn; but when, at length, aris\u2019n,
\nAurora, day-spring\u2019s daughter rosy-palm\u2019d
\nAgain appear\u2019d, the males of all his flocks
\nRush\u2019d forth to pasture, and, meantime, unmilk\u2019d,
\nThe wethers bleated, by the load distress\u2019d
\nOf udders overcharged. Their master, rack\u2019d
\nWith pain intolerable, handled yet
\nThe backs of all, inquisitive, as they stood,
\nBut, gross of intellect, suspicion none
\nConceiv\u2019d of men beneath their bodies bound.
\nAnd now (none left beside) the ram approach\u2019d
\nWith his own wool burthen\u2019d, and with myself,
\nWhom many a fear molested. Polypheme
\nThe giant stroak\u2019d him as he sat, and said,
\nMy darling ram! why latest of the flock
\nCom\u2019st thou, whom never, heretofore, my sheep
\nCould leave behind, but stalking at their head,
\nThou first was wont to crop the tender grass,
\nFirst to arrive at the clear stream, and first
\nWith ready will to seek my sheep-cote here
\nAt evening; but, thy practice chang\u2019d, thou com\u2019st,
\nNow last of all. Feel\u2019st thou regret, my ram!
\nOf thy poor master\u2019s eye, by a vile wretch
\nBored out, who overcame me first with wine,
\nAnd by a crew of vagabonds accurs\u2019d,
\nFollowers of Outis, whose escape from death
\nShall not be made to-day? Ah! that thy heart
\nWere as my own, and that distinct as I
\nThou could\u2019st articulate, so should\u2019st thou tell,
\nWhere hidden, he eludes my furious wrath.
\nThen, dash\u2019d against the floor his spatter\u2019d brain
\nShould fly, and I should lighter feel my harm
\nFrom Outis, wretch base-named and nothing-worth.
\nSo saying, he left him to pursue the flock.
\nWhen, thus drawn forth, we had, at length, escaped
\nFew paces from the cavern and the court,
\nFirst, quitting my own ram, I loos\u2019d my friends,
\nThen, turning seaward many a thriven ewe
\nSharp-hoof\u2019d, we drove them swiftly to the ship.
\nThrice welcome to our faithful friends we came
\nFrom death escaped, but much they mourn\u2019d the dead.
\nI suffer\u2019d not their tears, but silent shook
\nMy brows, by signs commanding them to lift
\nThe sheep on board, and instant plow the main.
\nThey, quick embarking, on the benches sat
\nWell ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood;
\nBut distant now such length as a loud voice
\nMay reach, I hail\u2019d with taunts the Cyclops\u2019 ear.
\nCyclops! when thou devouredst in thy cave
\nWith brutal force my followers, thou devour\u2019dst
\nThe followers of no timid Chief, or base,
\nVengeance was sure to recompense that deed
\nAtrocious. Monster! who wast not afraid
\nTo eat the guest shelter\u2019d beneath thy roof!
\nTherefore the Gods have well requited thee.
\nI ended; he, exasp\u2019rate, raged the more,
\nAnd rending from its hold a mountain-top,
\nHurl\u2019d it toward us; at our vessel\u2019s stern
\nDown came the mass, nigh sweeping in its fall
\nThe rudder\u2019s head. The ocean at the plunge
\nOf that huge rock, high on its refluent flood
\nHeav\u2019d, irresistible, the ship to land.
\nI seizing, quick, our longest pole on board,
\nBack thrust her from the coast and by a nod
\nIn silence given, bade my companions ply
\nStrenuous their oars, that so we might escape.
\nProcumbent,[5]<\/sup><\/a>
\neach obey\u2019d, and when, the flood
\nCleaving, we twice that distance had obtain\u2019d,[6]<\/sup><\/a>
\nAgain I hail\u2019d the Cyclops; but my friends
\nEarnest dissuaded me on ev\u2019ry side.
\nAh, rash Ulysses! why with taunts provoke
\nThe savage more, who hath this moment hurl\u2019d
\nA weapon, such as heav\u2019d the ship again
\nTo land, where death seem\u2019d certain to us all?
\nFor had he heard a cry, or but the voice
\nOf one man speaking, he had all our heads
\nWith some sharp rock, and all our timbers crush\u2019d
\nTogether, such vast force is in his arm.
\nSo they, but my courageous heart remain\u2019d
\nUnmoved, and thus again, incensed, I spake.
\nCyclops! should any mortal man inquire
\nTo whom thy shameful loss of sight thou ow\u2019st,
\nSay, to Ulysses, city-waster Chief,
\nLaertes\u2019 son, native of Ithaca.
\nI ceas\u2019d, and with a groan thus he replied.
\nAh me! an antient oracle I feel
\nAccomplish\u2019d. Here abode a prophet erst,
\nA man of noblest form, and in his art
\nUnrivall\u2019d, Telemus Eurymedes.
\nHe, prophesying to the Cyclops-race,
\nGrew old among us, and presaged my loss
\nOf sight, in future, by Ulysses\u2019 hand.
\nI therefore watch\u2019d for the arrival here,
\nAlways, of some great Chief, for stature, bulk
\nAnd beauty prais\u2019d, and cloath\u2019d with wond\u2019rous might.
\nBut now\u2014a dwarf, a thing impalpable,
\nA shadow, overcame me first by wine,
\nThen quench\u2019d my sight. Come hither, O my guest!
\nReturn, Ulysses! hospitable cheer
\nAwaits thee, and my pray\u2019rs I will prefer
\nTo glorious Neptune for thy prosp\u2019rous course;
\nFor I am Neptune\u2019s offspring, and the God
\nIs proud to be my Sire; he, if he please,
\nAnd he alone can heal me; none beside
\nOf Pow\u2019rs immortal, or of men below.
\nHe spake, to whom I answer thus return\u2019d.
\nI would that of thy life and soul amerced,
\nI could as sure dismiss thee down to Hell,
\nAs none shall heal thine eye\u2014not even He.
\nSo I; then pray\u2019d the Cyclops to his Sire
\nWith hands uprais\u2019d towards the starry heav\u2019n.
\nHear, Earth-encircler Neptune, azure-hair\u2019d!
\nIf I indeed am thine, and if thou boast
\nThyself my father, grant that never more
\nUlysses, leveller of hostile tow\u2019rs,
\nLaertes\u2019 son, of Ithaca the fair,
\nBehold his native home! but if his fate
\nDecree him yet to see his friends, his house,
\nHis native country, let him deep distress\u2019d
\nReturn and late, all his companions lost,
\nIndebted for a ship to foreign aid,
\nAnd let affliction meet him at his door.
\nHe spake, and Ocean\u2019s sov\u2019reign heard his pray\u2019r.
\nThen lifting from the shore a stone of size
\nFar more enormous, o\u2019er his head he whirl\u2019d
\nThe rock, and his immeasurable force
\nExerting all, dismiss\u2019d it. Close behind
\nThe ship, nor distant from the rudder\u2019s head,
\nDown came the mass. The ocean at the plunge
\nOf such a weight, high on its refluent flood
\nTumultuous, heaved the bark well nigh to land.
\nBut when we reach\u2019d the isle where we had left
\nOur num\u2019rous barks, and where my people sat
\nWatching with ceaseless sorrow our return,
\nWe thrust our vessel to the sandy shore,
\nThen disembark\u2019d, and of the Cyclops\u2019 sheep
\nGave equal share to all. To me alone
\nMy fellow-voyagers the ram consign\u2019d
\nIn distribution, my peculiar meed.
\nHim, therefore, to cloud-girt Saturnian Jove
\nI offer\u2019d on the shore, burning his thighs
\nIn sacrifice; but Jove my hallow\u2019d rites
\nReck\u2019d not, destruction purposing to all
\nMy barks, and all my followers o\u2019er the Deep.
\nThus, feasting largely, on the shore we sat
\nTill even-tide, and quaffing gen\u2019rous wine;
\nBut when day fail\u2019d, and night o\u2019ershadow\u2019d all,
\nThen, on the shore we slept; and when again
\nAurora rosy daughter of the Dawn,
\nLook\u2019d forth, my people, anxious, I enjoin\u2019d
\nTo climb their barks, and cast the hawsers loose.
\nThey all obedient, took their seats on board
\nWell-ranged, and thresh\u2019d with oars the foamy flood.
\nThus, \u2019scaping narrowly, we roam\u2019d the Deep
\nWith aching hearts and with diminish\u2019d crews.<\/p>\n

  1. So the Scholium interprets in this place, the word \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b8\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  2. \u039b\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2 ↵<\/a><\/li>
  3. Clarke, who has preserved this name in his marginal version, contends strenuously, and with great reason, that Outis ought not to be translated, and in a passage which he quotes from the Acta eruditorum, we see much fault found with Giphanius and other interpreters of Homer for having translated it. It is certian that in Homer the word is declined not as \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2-\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 which signifies no man, but as \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03c2-\u03c4\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 making \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd in the accusative, consequently as a proper name. It is sufficient that the ambiguity was such as to deceive the friends of the Cyclops. Outis is said by some (perhaps absurdly) to have been a name given to Ulysses on account of his having larger ears than common. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  4. Outis, as a name could only denote him who bore it; but as a noun, it signifies no man, which accounts sufficiently for the ludicrous mistake of his brethren. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  5. \r\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2\r\n\u2014\u2014\u2014Olli certamine summo\r\nProcumbunt.\r\nVirgil ↵<\/a><\/li>
  6. The seeming incongruity of this line with line 560, is reconciled by supposing that Ulysses exerted his voice, naturally loud, in an extraordinary manner on this second occasion. See Clarke. ↵<\/a><\/li><\/ol><\/div>","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":9,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-115","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/115","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/299"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/115\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":248,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/115\/revisions\/248"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/115\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=115"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=115"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=115"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=115"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}