“He spake; I gave him of the generous juice Again, and thrice I filled and brought the cup, And thrice the Cyclops in his folly drank. But when I saw the wine begin to cloud His senses, I bespake him blandly thus:—
“ ‘Thou hast inquired, O Cyclops, by what name Men know me. I will tell thee, but do thou Bestow in turn some hospitable gift, As thou hast promised. Noman is my name, My father and my mother gave it me, And Noman am I called by all my friends.’
“I ended, and he answered savagely:— ‘Noman shall be the last of all his band Whom I will eat, the rest will I devour Before him. Let that respite be my gift.’
“He spake, and, sinking backward at full length, Lay on the ground, with his huge neck aside; All-powerful sleep had overtaken him. Then from his mouth came bits of human flesh Mingled with wine, and from his drunken throat Rejected noisily. I put the stake Among the glowing coals to gather heat, And uttered cheerful words, encouraging My men, that none might fail me through their fears. And when the olive-wood began to blaze— For though yet green it freely took the lire— I drew it from the embers. Round me stood My comrades, whom some deity inspired With calm, high courage. In their hands they took And thrust into his eye the pointed bar, While perched upon a higher stand than they I twirled it round. As when a workman bores Some timber of a ship, the men who stand Below him with a strap, on either side Twirl it, and round it spins unceasingly, So, thrusting in his eye that pointed bar, We made it turn. The blood came streaming forth On the hot wood; the eyelids and the brow Were scalded by the vapor, and the roots Of the scorched eyeball crackled with the fire. As when a smith, in forging axe or adze, Plunges, to temper it, the hissing blade Into cold water,