University of Virginia Library

TRANSLATION OF THE Cyclops of Euripides.

PERSONS OF THE PLAY.

• Silenus.
• Ulysses.
• The Cyclops.
• Chorus of Satyrs.

SCENE. SICILY. Caves at the foot of Mount Ætna.

[Act 1]

SILENUS.
O Bacchus! what innumerable toils
I suffer for thy sake—aye, and have suffer'd
E'en from my earliest days—I well remember
When first, by Juno madden'd, we forsook
The mountain-nymphs, thy nurses—then again,
Close by thy side, I fought the earth-born giants,
And thro' the shield of fierce Enceladon
Driving my spear, I slew him—softly—softly—
Did I not dream all this?—by Jove, not I—
'T is fact—all fact—I shew'd the spoils to Bacchus—
Now my fate's harder still—when Juno urg'd
These Tyrrhene scoundrels to attack my master,
And bear him off, I straitway sought a vessel,
Took all my children with me, put to sea,
And sail'd in quest of Bacchus—while I steer'd,
My boys here row'd—the green sea foam'd around us;
Passing by Malea, a wind sprang up,
That drove us to these rocks—the rocks of Ætna—
Here dwell the one-ey'd children of the god
Who rules the sea—a bloody, monstrous race—
Captur'd by Polypheme, for him we toil—
No more we shout our god, but guard the herds
Of this accursed Cyclops—on yon hill
My sons now watch his flock—while I am doom'd
To sweep his cave, to keep all clean within,
To wait upon him at his impious meals—
Come, I must now to work, and sweep, and scrape,
That all be neat—what's this?—my sons approach,
Driving their flocks—hark—hark,—does this resemble
The Bacchanalian shout, the choral song
Mingled with music in Althæa's hall?

SEMI-CHORUS.
Why, O flocks of noblest race,
Why, across the barren rocks,
So idly range?
There no cooling breezes play,
There no tempting herbage springs,
There no curling eddies gush—
Come to the dewy field,
Come to your master's fold—

SEMI-CHORUS.

CHORUS.
I shout the Bromian lay;
On Venus still I call,
Venus, whom oft I've sought
With Bacchus' sportive train—
O friendly god, O dearest youth,
Where is thy lonely seat?
Where dost thou, mourning, shake
Thy golden hair?
Far from thy cheering looks,
In coarsest garb I pine,
The monster's slave.—

SILENUS.
Be silent, children; haste and drive your flocks
Into the rocky caves.

CHORUS.
We will, my father,
But why so urgent?

SILENUS.
Close upon the shore
I see a Grecian galley, and its crew,
Led by their captain, seem to bend their course
This way—they're surely seeking food and water,
They bear some empty vessels—wretched strangers!
Who can they be?—alas! they cannot know
The nature of our master—little think they
That, landing on these hated shores, they come
The self-doom'd victims of the Cyclops' jaws—
Now be ye quiet, children, whilst I ask
What fate has thrown them on the shores of Sicily—

[Enter Ulysses and his Crew.]
ULYSSES.
O say, my friends, where can we find a spring
To slake our thirst? where can we purchase food
To store our vessel?—this is very strange—
Sure 't is a Bromian city—all around—
Within, without the caves, there's nought but satyrs;
I will address the oldest—Hail! old man.

SILENUS.
Hail! stranger—quickly tell me who thou art,
And whence thou comest—

ULYSSES.
Thou behold'st Ulysses.

SILENUS.
I've heard of him—he is the veriest prater—

ULYSSES.
I'm he, I say—spare your abuse, my friend,—

SILENUS.
And pray whence came you last?

ULYSSES.
I came from Troy.

SILENUS.
Had you not wit enough to find your home?

ULYSSES.
By adverse winds I'm driven to this coast.

SILENUS.
Alas! your fate and mine are much alike.

ULYSSES.
Were you then driven to this land by storms?

SILENUS.
Yes, running after thieves who stole my master.

ULYSSES.
What place is this, and who inhabit it?

SILENUS.
This isle is Sicily—this mountain, Ætna.

ULYSSES.
Where are your cities? where your lofty walls?

SILENUS.
We have no cities, and no walls but rocks.

ULYSSES.
Who then dwell here, a race of savage beasts?

SILENUS.
The Cyclops dwell here, caverns are their houses.

ULYSSES.
Have they a ruler?—what's their mode of life?

SILENUS.
They're wandering shepherds, no one heeds the other.

ULYSSES.
Do they not till the ground? What food have they?

SILENUS.
They've milk and cheese;—sometimes they feast on flesh.

ULYSSES.
Have they not here the liquor of the grape?

SILENUS.
No—not a drop—O 't is a cursed country.

ULYSSES.
And are the Cyclops very kind to guests?

SILENUS.
O very kind—they prize no flesh so highly.

ULYSSES.
What say you?—flesh of guests!—they cannot eat them?

SILENUS.
Yes but they do,—they butcher all they catch.

ULYSSES.
Where is the Cyclops? is he in his cave?

SILENUS.
No, he is hunting, with his dogs, on Ætna.

ULYSSES.
Be brisk then, my good friend—do not detain us.

SILENUS.
What should I do? I'm ready to befriend you.

ULYSSES.
Procure us food—

SILENUS.
There's nothing here but flesh—

ULYSSES.
Well, that will do—

SILENUS.
And cheese, and milk of cows—

ULYSSES.
Bring it all forth, let's look before we buy.

SILENUS.
And how much gold, then, will you give for it?

ULYSSES.
None—none at all—I'll give a draught of wine.

SILENUS.
Wine? sweetest sound!—how long since I have tasted—

ULYSSES.
Maron himself bestow'd the precious gift.

SILENUS.
Maron?—how oft I've nurs'd him in these arms.

ULYSSES.
The son of Bacchus, as you well remember.

SILENUS.
Is the wine with you, or on board your ship?

ULYSSES.
This is the skin that holds it—look, my friend—

SILENUS.
That?—why there's scarce enough to wet my gullet.

ULYSSES.
I have much more than this—

SILENUS.
O the dear fountain!
So sweet, so grateful—

ULYSSES.
Will you please to taste it?

SILENUS.
Aye, by all means,—I'll taste before I buy.

ULYSSES.
See! I have brought a cup, too, with the skin—

SILENUS.
Come, fill it, then—

ULYSSES.
Here—drink—

SILENUS.
Ah—ah—it smells well.

ULYSSES.
Then taste it, praise it not by words alone.

SILENUS.
I do—most excellent—it makes me merry;
I long to dance—ha—ha

ULYSSES.
It goes down sweetly—

SILENUS.
O I can feel it at my finger ends.

ULYSSES.
I'll give you money too—

SILENUS.
Plague on the money!
Give me but wine enough, I ask no more—

ULYSSES.
Now then, good satyr, bring the cheese, the lambs—

SILENUS.
I'll do it—what care I for master now?
For one full cup of that delicious liquor
I'd barter all the food of all the Cyclops,
And then leap headlong from the jutting rock
Into the sea—I mean, if I were drunk
I'd do all this—O, he who drinks unmov'd
Is surely mad. [OMITTED]
This cup's the cure of sorrow—how I'd drain it!—
Plague on the Cyclops!—Hark, my friend, a word with ye.

ULYSSES.
Speak to me freely, as becomes a friend.

SILENUS.
Did you take Troy?

ULYSSES.
We did.

SILENUS.
And Helen too?

ULYSSES.
And Helen—and destroyed the house of Priam.

SILENUS.
And, when you had her safe, did all your soldiers
Kiss her? she always lik'd to change her husbands;
Lur'd by a splendid dress and golden chains,
The traitress left that worthy man her lord;
O, would the race of women were extinct!
Except a few—just for my private use.
Here, great Ulysses, here is flesh, and milk,
And cheese in plenty—take it and be gone,
But leave that goodly skin instead of it.

ULYSSES.
See, see—the Cyclops—'t is all over with us—
What shall we do? where fly?

SILENUS.
Enter this cave,
And hide yourself.

ULYSSES.
What? rush into his nets?

SILENUS.
Never heed that, he cannot find you there.

ULYSSES.
No, it shall ne'er be said that I who stood
Oppos'd to thousands of the Phrygian spears,
Could fear to face one man—it shall not be;
If we must perish, let us perish bravely,
Or, if we live, our fame shall flourish with us—

SILENUS.
Pr'ythee don't loiter.

[Act 2]

CYCLOPS, ULYSSES, SILENUS, AND CHORUS.
CYCLOPS.
What means this uproar? this is not the hall
O' the revelling god—here are no drums, no cymbals—
Are my lambs safe within? do they suck well,
And frisk around the ewes? where is my cheese?
Have ye made plenty of it?—out, ye oafs!
Why don't ye speak?—this staff will cure your dumbness,
Look up—ye stand like dolts.

SILENUS.
'An please you, master,
I do look up—I see the heavens, the stars,
I think I see Orion—

CYCLOPS.
Where's my supper?

SILENUS.
'T is ready—blessings on your appetite!

CYCLOPS.
Are all my goblets fill'd with fresh-drawn milk?

SILENUS.
All full—O you may drink a sea of it.

CYCLOPS.
What milk? sheep's?—cow's?

SILENUS.
O every kind of milk,
Drink what you please, but don't gulp me down with it.

CYCLOPS.
No, no, you're safe enough—my maw would split
With such a capering fool in it as you are.
Rascal, what croud is that about my cave?
A gang of robbers?—see, they steal my cheese,
They're loaded with my lambs—what ails you?—speak,
Your eyes are swell'd—your head—

SILENUS.
Alas! good master,
I'm beaten to a jelly—woe is me!

CYCLOPS.
Who beat you, satyr?

SILENUS.
Those same rogues and thieves there—
I fought to the last—I could not save your lambs.

CYCLOPS.
Did not the scoundrels know I was a god,
Descended from the gods too?

SILENUS.
So I told them—
But still they stole your goods, and ate your cheese—
As to yourself, they said they'd tie you fast
To a long stake, and thro' that eye of yours
They'd spin your bowels—and besides all this,
They swore they'd flog you, bind you neck and heels
Together, lodge you in the hold o'the ship,
And sell you for a mason's labourer.

CYCLOPS.
Indeed! be brisk then—sharpen well my knives;
Light a huge fire—I'll cut the throats o'the dogs—
I'll eat 'em hot and hot—some I will stew—
I'm tir'd of mountain food—of stags and lions—
'T is long since I have tasted human flesh.

SILENUS.
It makes a pretty change—most wond'rous pleasant,
And very rarely do we catch a stranger.

ULYSSES.
O Cyclops! listen to thy guests awhile—
We wander'd from our ships to purchase food;
We chanc'd to find thy caves; the satyr, here,
Willingly sold us for a draught of wine
These lambs and cheese—we seiz'd on nought by force;
Now he denies all this—falsely denies it,
Merely because thou caught'st him at his tricks.

SILENUS.
I?—may'st thou perish—

ULYSSES.
If I speak not truly.

SILENUS.
I swear by Neptune, father of the Cyclops;
I swear by Triton, by Calypso fair,
By all the Nereides, by the sacred seas,
By every fish that swims—I swear, O Cyclops,
O my dear little master, yes, I swear,
I never sold him aught—if my oath's false,
May these, my dearest children, sadly perish!

CHORUS.
Stop—stop—in justice to our guests I speak—
The strangers bought the goods—if this be false,
May my dear father perish!

CYCLOPS.
Peace—ye lie—
I'd rather trust this man than Rhadamanthus—
But I would ask you, stranger, whence you came—
Where were you born?

ULYSSES.
We're Ithacans by birth;
From Troy we came, which now is lain in ashes;
Tempestuous winds have driven us on thy shores.

CYCLOPS.
So—ye are the men who took a trip to Troy,
To seize that runaway, that traitress, Helen.

ULYSSES.
We are, and much we've suffer'd in our battles.

CYCLOPS.
A precious set!—'t was well worth while to fight
Those bloody battles for a foolish woman.

ULYSSES.
Such was the will of fate—then blame not us—
But now, O son of the illustrious sea-god,
Humbly we ask thee, for we must speak plainly,
Not to destroy us—spare, O spare thy guests,
Nor glut thy stomach with an impious feast;
Reflect, O Cyclops, on the many honours
Thy father shares in Greece, think of his temples,
His sacred arbours, caves, and promontories;
Consider too the glory gain'd to Greece
By punishing the Trojans; of this glory
Thou hast thy share, tho' dwelling thus retir'd
Beneath the fire-distilling mount—O hear us!
Let soft humanity yet touch thy heart!
Scorn not th' entreaties of a suppliant stranger,
Bring forth the gifts of friendship—mighty gods!
To pierce with pointed spits our quivering limbs!
Alas! the plains of Troy have swallowed up
Far, far too many—Greece is desolate—
The widows weep their husbands; gray-hair'd parents
Lament their sons—wilt thou consume, O Cyclops,
The poor remains?—where shall we turn for pity?
Have mercy on us! think not of a banquet
So foul, so impious—O respect the gods—
Reflect how often wicked deeds have prov'd
The bane of those who wrought them.

SILENUS.
Hark ye, master,
I'll give you my advice—by all means eat
That prosing fellow, and be sure to swallow
His tongue—what a dear, pretty, prattling Cyclops
You 'll then become.

CYCLOPS.
Gain is the wise man's god,
All else is empty shew and idle boasting.
Dost think me fool enough to care what honours
Greece pays my father?—What's all that to me?
I tell thee, man, I do not even dread
The thunderbolts of Jove—for ought I know
I am as great a god as Jove himself—
I care not for him—let his thunders roar,
Let him dash down his floods—I'm safe enough—
Snug in my cave I eat, and drink, and snore;
And when the Thracian Boreas shoots his snows,
I clothe me in thick skins, I light a fire,
And laugh at frost and snow—the earth beneath me,
Whether she will or no, must throw out herbage
To feed my flocks, and those I offer only
To one most mighty god, this paunch of mine.
To eat, to drink, to care for nought beside,
This is the wise man's plan—plague on the rogues
Who gave you laws, who fix'd your rules of life;
I know no laws but these, to please myself,
To fill my belly, and to eat you all.
As to the presents that you prate about,
They sha'nt be wanting—I will share among you
Fire, and the cauldron of my stout fore-fathers;
'T is big enough for all of you—go in—
Go in, I say—and learn my mode of feasting—

ULYSSES.
Alas! alas! escap'd from Trojan spears,
From swelling surges, what a fate awaits us!
The monster's heart is harder than his rocks.
O Pallas! goddess, sprung from Jove himself,
Now, now defend us! dangers tenfold blacker
Than those we fac'd at Troy surround us here—
O thou, who sitt'st above the glittering stars,
Look down upon us, save us, Jove, O save us!

SEMI-CHORUS.
Open, O Polypheme, thy mighty jaws;
Behold prepar'd
The roast, the boil'd—
I see thy grinders tear
The hateful food, fresh seeth'd
Within the hairy skin.

SEMI-CHORUS.
O could I quit, for ever quit
These gloomy caves,
These impious feasts!
Ah cruel, bloody wretch!
Who hear'st, but hear'st unmov'd,
E'en at the sacred hearth,
The suppliant's prayer.

[Act 3]

ULYSSES, CHORUS.
ULYSSES.
O mighty Jove! within th' accursed cell
I've seen a sight which man can scarcely credit;
It is not human—

CHORUS.
Has the hated Cyclops
Devour'd your friends?—

ULYSSES.
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
Two have already suffer'd, and the rest,
Trembling like birds, now sculk within his cave.
I dar'd to approach the monster—waited on him,
And when I found his hunger was appeas'd,
A thought came 'cross me—strait I fill'd a cup
With potent wine, and gave it him to drink;
Take this, I said, this is the luscious juice
That Greece produces, and that Bacchus doats on;
The Cyclops, gorg'd with flesh, receiv'd the cup
And drain'd it at one draught—dear guest, cries he,
Thou giv'st me liquor worthy of my banquet!
While he still smack'd his lips, I carried to him
A second dose, for well I knew the wine
Would do its duty—strait he 'gan to sing—
Cup after cup he drain'd—I plied him well—
He's hot enough—and now, amidst my friends,
He makes the cavern echo to his shouts
And uncouth songs—I silently stole off—
Fain would I save myself, and you too, satyrs;
Say, will you quit the wretch, and sport again
I'the courts of Bacchus and the Danaides?
Your father there within approves my counsel,
But he is weak and tottering, and he clings
Close to the cup, as if he stuck by bird-lime—
Ye are both young and active—join me then,
And seek your former master, Bromius.

CHORUS.
Ah! my good man, would I might see the day
When I shall fairly 'scape the monster's clutches!
Here is no music—all is dead and joyless—
But we have no resource.

ULYSSES.
You have, my friend,
Hear but my plan—severely will I punish
This hated beast, and give you liberty.

CHORUS.
Say how? with keener joy I'd hear his groans
Than the soft tinkling of the harp of Asias.

ULYSSES.
The Cyclops, hot with wine, will long to join
His brethren at their feasts—

CHORUS.
I understand you,
And we must watch his steps—catch him alone,
And strangle him, or hurl him from the rocks.

ULYSSES.
I mean not that—our work is not so plain.

CHORUS.
How then? long, long ago we've heard, Ulysses,
The rumour of your cunning.

ULYSSES.
Thus, then, satyrs;
I will persuade him not to quit his home;
I'll tell him he'd be mad to share his wine
With any other Cyclops—here I'll fix him—
And when the potent god has laid him low,
I'll sharpen some huge stake, and fire its point,
And as the shipwright bores with whirling auger,
So will we bore, with the still-flaming shaft,
The eye of Polypheme.

CHORUS.
'T is well—'t is well.

ULYSSES.
When we've thus blinded him, yourself, your father,
And all our friends shall haste aboard my ship,
And row away most merrily.

CHORUS.
O glorious!
But say, Ulysses, will you need our aid
To twirl the stake?

ULYSSES.
Yes truly—'t will be weighty.

CHORUS.
O! I would work like fifty carts and horses,
Could I but blind the dog, and root out thoroughly
That wasp's-nest eye of his—

ULYSSES.
Be silent now—
When I command, be ready—tho' I've quitted
My friends within, and might escape alone,
Yet I should scorn to do it; we will live
Or die together.

SEMI-CHORUS.
Who first, who last shall seize
The burning brand,
And plunge its fiery point,
Within the radiant orb?

SEMI-CHORUS.
Hark, hark, I hear within
The sound of song;
The swelling notes are harsh,
The minstrel rude—
Lo! from the rocky cave,
Th' unwieldy Cyclops reels;
O haste, and join his strains.

SEMI-CHORUS.
Happy, happy, happy he
Who quaffs the luscious juice,
Happy in the purple flood
That sparkling flows around!
How sweet, on downy turf reclin'd,
To laugh the summer hours away
With her we love!
How sweet, by Bacchus fir'd, to trace
The winning graces of her form,
To mark the down-cast, beamy eye,
And catch the fragrance of her breath!

[Act 4]

CYCLOPS, ULYSSES, SILENUS, CHORUS.
CYCLOPS.
Whither, whither shall I wander,
Joyous from my rich repast?
As a deeply laden vessel,
Well I'm stor'd with food and wine.
The glowing verdure of the field,
The cooling breezes of the spring,
Entice me to forsake
The gloomy, still retreat,
To join the Cyclops' feasts.

CHORUS.
See, he comes; his shining orb,
Like a flaming pine-tree, burns;
Roseate tints have flush'd his skin,
Brighter than the hue of nymphs
Sporting in their dewy caves;
Haste, and shade his manly brow
With wreaths of flowers.

ULYSSES.
Hear me, O Cyclops, and I'll tell to you
Th' adventures of the god you love so well.

CYLOPS.
And do'st thou call this liquor, then, a god?

ULYSSES.
No doubt—the sweetest comforter of mortals.

CYCLOPS.
Truly he warms my stomach pleasantly.

ULYSSES.
O! he's the best of gods, he never harms us.

CYCLOPS.
And is he pleas'd with dwelling in a skin?

ULYSSES.
Aye, put him where you will, he's always easy.

CYCLOPS.
Surely he might have had some better clothing?

ULYSSES.
Who heeds his covering if the god be good?

CYCLOPS.
True, 't is no matter.

ULYSSES.
Do not leave us, Cyclops—
Stay where you are, and drink, and drink again.

CYCLOPS.
Shall I not give some liquor to my brethren?

ULYSSES.
No—you'll be mightier if you keep it all.

CYCLOPS.
I shall be civiller if I let them taste it.

ULYSSES.
Such drinking-bouts too often end in blood.

CYCLOPS.
O! were I doubly drunk none dares to touch me.

ULYSSES.
Still I advise you not to quit your cave.

CYCLOPS.
Poh! he's a fool who loves to drink alone.

ULYSSES.
A wise man, if he's drunk, will stay at home.

CYCLOPS.
What shall I do, Silenus?

SILENUS.
Never budge;
I see no wit in seeking other mouths.

CYCLOPS.
Well, here the grass looks fresh—

SILENUS.
'T is mighty pleasant
To booze i'the sunshine—please to sit, good master.

CYCLOPS.
Why do you place the cup behind me, rascal?

SILENUS.
Lest any one should touch it.

CYCLOPS.
Out!—I say—
You drink my liquor, rogue, behind my back;
Here, place the cup in sight—approach me, guest,
Tell me thy name—thy name?

ULYSSES.
My name is No-one.—
But say, O Cyclops, what return you'll make me
For all the kind attention I have shewn you.

CYCLOPS.
I'll eat thee last of all.

ULYSSES.
That's very handsome.

CYCLOPS.
What are you doing, scoundrel? are you drinking?

SILENUS.
No—not a drop—only my eyes are dim,
And I look'd close, to see the curious carving
Of this most goodly cup.

CYCLOPS.
Take care, take care—
Here—pour me out a cup-full—fill to the brim.

SILENUS.
And how much water shall I mix with it?

CYCLOPS.
None—none—come, bring it—

SILENUS.
Stop, I'll fetch a wreath
And place it on your head—besides 't is proper
That I, as cup-bearer, should taste the liquor.

CYCLOPS.
Plague on this trifling!

SILENUS.
Trifling? not at all,
The liquor's much too good to trifle with—
Come wipe your mouth—and then I give the cup—

CYCLOPS.
There, there, you fool, my lips and beard are clean.

SILENUS.
Now you should drink it in a proper posture,
Reclining gracefully—here—see me do it—
Thus—thus—

[Drinks.
CYCLOPS.
Hold, hold, you rascal.

SILENUS.
Dearest heart!
I've drunk it out before I was aware.

CYCLOPS.
Out, oaf!—come, guest, be thou my cup-bearer.

ULYSSES.
With all my heart—I'm us'd to such employment.

CYCLOPS.
Now fill the goblet.

ULYSSES.
Yes, I do—be quiet.

CYCLOPS.
'T is not so easy to be drunk and quiet.

ULYSSES.
Here, take the goblet—drain it at a draught—
Would he might swallow it!

CYCLOPS.
'T is well—'t is well—
O! what a charming wood the vine-tree's made of!

ULYSSES.
After your meal you cannot drink too much—
Drench yourself well—then sink to sweetest slumber,
Leave not a drop—

CYCLOPS.
How's this? my brains are swimming,
The sky and earth whirl round me—now I spy
The throne of Jove—I see the gods assembled—
What tho' the graces court me—I'll not kiss 'em.
Hence, hence, and let me sleep.

SILENUS.
Aye, go thy ways.

[Ulysses conducts the Cyclops into his cave and returns.
ULYSSES.
Now, ye brave sons of Bacchus, all is ready;
The monster sleeps, the pointed stake is flaming,
Now let's to work—be men, my friends, be men.

CHORUS.
O! we have hearts of adamant—return—
We'll quickly follow.

ULYSSES.
Vulcan, lord of Ætna,
Now do thy duty—sleep, thou son of night,
Rest heavy on the wretch—What? shall a band
So bold, so fam'd as ours, inglorious perish,
And basely crouch before the impious Cyclops?

CHORUS.
See, they grasp the monster's neck;
See, they point the fiery dart,
And plunge it deep—
Bacchus, Bacchus, fight for us!
Soon again my longing eyes
Shall view thy beauteous front,
With ivy crown'd.

[Act 5]

ULYSSES, CHORUS, CYCLOPS.
(The latter in his cave.)
ULYSSES.
Peace, peace,—by all the gods, I pray you, silence;
Breathe not a word, nor cough, nor wink your eye,
Lest ye may rouze the Cyclops from his slumber.

CHORUS.
There—there—we hold our breath—

ULYSSES.
Come in, I say,
And help to do the deed.

CHORUS.
We cannot stir.

ULYSSES.
Are ye all lame?

CHORUS.
I rather think we are;
Our legs shake under us—

ULYSSES.
Ye seem convuls'd.

CHORUS.
'T is very strange—I'm sure we cannot help you,
But we can sing an Orphic ode—

ULYSSES.
O cowards!
Well—be it so—I and my brave companions
Will do without you; sing some cheering ditty.

CHORUS.
How base is fear—the truly brave
Snatch the deathless wreath of fame;
Shouting crouds their steps attend.
Warriors, raise the sinewy arm;
Deeper, deeper plunge your fires;
Warriors, work the deed of wrath,
Laugh to scorn the monster's groans,
And stain, with impious blood,
The massy shaft.

CYCLOPS,
from within.
Alas! alas! I'm blinded, scorch'd, and pierc'd.

CHORUS.
O! sing that strain again!

CYCLOPS.
Alas! alas!
I perish, I am blinded—do not think
The dogs will 'scape me yet—here, by this entrance,
I'll stand, and close it with my arms. Alas!

CHORUS.
Cyclops, what means this clamour? hast thou reel'd
Into the fire?

CYCLOPS.
No-one, I say, has pierc'd me.

CHORUS.
Then No-one is to blame.

CYCLOPS.
No-one has blinded me.

CHORUS.
Then thou canst see.

CYCLOPS.
Would thou could'st see no better!

CHORUS.
And how did No-one blind thee?

CYCLOPS.
Out, thou scoffer!
Where is that No-one?

CHORUS.
He is no where, Cyclops.

CYCLOPS.
That cursed guest, I tell thee, has destroyed me;
He gave me drink that burnt my flesh—where is he?
Where are my other guests? have they escaped?
Or are they in my cave?

CHORUS.
They're in thy cave.

CYCLOPS.
Where—where?

CHORUS.
They're close beneath the rock, thou hast them.

CYCLOPS.
Alas! I've split my skull against this ridge.

CHORUS.
And now thou'lt lose them.

CYCLOPS.
Tell me where they are—

CHORUS.
There—there—

CYCLOPS.
I cannot catch them.

CHORUS.
There again,
More to the left.

CYCLOPS.
Alas! alas! thou mock'st me.

CHORUS.
Now I'll speak truly, Cyclops; they're before thee.

ULYSSES.
Yes, monster, far enough from thee; and know,
Ulysses leads them hence.

CYCLOPS.
What? hast thou chang'd
Thy name then, and procur'd a new one?

ULYSSES.
No—I keep that my father gave to me—
I tell thee that I glory in thy sufferings;
I should have blush'd, when Troy was spoken of,
Had I not punish'd thy detested crime.
And now I quit thee—soon my ship shall bear me
To my much long'd-for country.

CYCLOPS.
Never, never,
I'll follow to the sea—tear up a rock,
And hurl it on thy vessel—

CHORUS.
We shall join
Ulysses' crew, and seek our jovial god.

CHORUS.
Bear me, O! Bacchus, to thy sunny hills,
Where twisted tendrils bend
Beneath the clustering grape!
With ready hand I'll press
The purple spoil,
And drain the fragrant stream.