“He spake, and sent him forth among the rest; And when we were a little way beyond The cavern and the court, I loosed my hold Upon the animal and unbound my men. Then quickly we surrounded and drove off, Fat sheep and stately paced, a numerous flock, And brought them to our ship, where joyfully Our friends received us, though with grief and tears For those who perished. Yet I suffered not That they should weep, but, frowning, gave command By signs to lift with speed the fair-woolled sheep On board, and launch our ship on the salt sea. They went on board, where each one took his place Upon the benches, and with diligent oars Smote the gray deep; and when we were as far As one upon the shore could hear a shout, Thus to the Cyclops tauntingly I called:—
“ ‘Ha! Cyclops! those whom in thy rocky cave Thou, in thy brutal fury, hast devoured, Were friends of one not unexpert in war; Amply have thy own guilty deeds returned Upon thee. Cruel one! who didst not fear To eat the strangers sheltered by thy roof, Jove and the other gods avenge them thus.’
“I spake; the anger in his bosom raged More fiercely. From a mountain peak he wrenched Its summit, hurling it to fall beside Our galley, where it almost touched the helm. The rock dashed high the water where it fell, And the returning billow swept us back And toward the shore. I seized a long-stemmed pike And pushed it from the shore, encouraging The men to bend with vigor to their oars And so escape. With nods I gave the sign. Forward to vigorous strokes the oarsmen leaned Till we were out at sea as far from land As when I spake before, and then again I shouted to the Cyclops, though my crew Strove to prevent it with beseeching words, And one man first and then another said:—
“ ‘O most unwise! why chafe that savage man To fury—him who just has cast his bolt Into the sea, and forced us toward the land Where we had well-nigh perished? Should he hear A cry from us, or even a word of speech, Then would he fling a rock to crush our heads And wreck our ship, so fatal is his cast.’