Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to Hell. 130
Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care,
Heedless of others, to his own severe.
‘Opposed to the Cyclopean coasts, there lay
An isle, whose hills their subject fields survey;
Its name Lachæa, crown’d with many a grove, 135
Where savage goats thro’ pathless thickets rove:
No needy mortals here, with hunger bold,
Or wretched hunters thro’ the wintry cold
Pursue their flight; but leave them safe to bound
From hill to hill, o’er all the desert ground. 140
Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care,
Or feels the labours of the crooked share;
But uninhabited, untill’d, unsown
It lies, and breeds the bleating goat alone.
For there no vessel with vermilion prore, 145
Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore;
The rugged race of savages, unskill’d
The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,
Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,
Unlearn’d in all th’ industrious arts of toil. 150
Yet here all products and all plants abound,
Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground;
Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen,
And vines that flourish in eternal green,
Refreshing meads along the murm’ring main, 155
And fountains streaming down the fruitful plain.
‘A port there is, inclosed on either side,
Where ships may rest, unanchor’d and untied;
Till the glad mariners incline to sail,
And the sea whitens with the rising gale. 160
High at the head from out the cavern’d rock,
In living rills a gushing fountain broke:
Around it, and above, for ever green,
The bushy alders form’d a shady scene.
Hither some fav’ring God, beyond our thought, 165
Thro’ all-surrounding shade our navy brought;
For gloomy night descended on the main,
Nor glimmer’d Phœbe in th’ ethereal plain:
But all unseen the clouded island lay,
And all unseen the surge and rolling sea, 170
Till safe we anchor’d in the shelter’d bay:
Our sails we gather’d, cast our cables o’er,
And slept secure along the sandy shore.
Soon as again the rosy morning shone,
Reveal’d the landscape and the scene unknown, 175
With wonder seiz’d, we view the pleasing ground,
And walk delighted, and expatiate round.
Rous’d by the woodland nymphs at early dawn,
The mountain goats came bounding o’er the lawn:
In haste our fellows to the ships repair, 180
For arms and weapons of the sylvan war;
Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part,
And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart;
The bounteous Gods afford a copious prey,
And nine fat goats each vessel bears away: 185
The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete
We thus supplied (for twelve were all the fleet).
‘Here, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,
We sat indulging in the genial rite:
Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars 190
We drain’d, the prize of our Ciconian wars.
The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near;
The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear,
And from their mountains rising smokes appear.
Now sunk the sun, and darkness cover’d o’er 195
The face of things: along the sea-beat shore
Satiate we slept; but when the sacred dawn
Arising glitter’d o’er the dewy lawn,
I call’d my fellows, and these words address’d:
“My dear associates, here indulge your rest: 200
While, with my single ship, adventurous I
Go forth, the manners of you men to try;
Whether a race unjust, of barb’rous might,
Rude, and unconscious of a stranger’s right,
Or such who harbour pity in their breast, 205
Revere the Gods, and succour the distress’d.”
‘This said, I climb’d my vessel’s lofty side;
My train obey’d me, and the ship untied.
In order seated on their banks, they sweep
Neptune’s smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep. 210
When to the nearest verge of land we drew,
Fast by the sea a lonely cave we view,
High, and with dark’ning laurels cover’d o’er;
Where sheep and goats lay slumb’ring round the shore.
Near this, a fence of marble from the rock, 215
Brown with o’erarching pine and spreading oak:
A giant shepherd here his flock maintains
Far from the rest, and solitary reigns,
In shelter thick of horrid shade reclin’d;
And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind. 220
A form enormous! far unlike the race
Of human birth, in stature, or in face;
As some lone mountain’s monstrous growth he stood,
Crown’d with rough thickets, and a nodding wood.
I left my vessel at the point of land, 225
And close to guard it gave our crew command:
With only twelve, the boldest and the best,
I seek th’ adventure, and forsake the rest.
Then took a goatskin, fill’d with precious wine,
The gift of Maron of Evantheus’ line 230
(The priest of Phœbus at th’ Ismarian shrine).
In sacred shade his honour’d mansion stood
Amidst Apollo’s consecrated wood;
Him, and his house, Heav’n mov’d my mind to save,
And costly presents in return he gave; 235
Sev’n golden talents to perfection wrought,
A silver bowl that held a copious draught,
And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine,
Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine!
Which now, some ages from his race conceal’d, 240
The hoary sire in gratitude reveal’d.
Such was the wine: to quench whose fervent steam
Scarce twenty measures from the living stream
To cool one cup sufficed: the goblet crown’d
Breathed aromatic fragrances around. 245
Of this an ample vase we heav’d aboard,
And brought another with provisions stor’d.
My soul foreboded I should find the bower
Of some fell monster, fierce with barb’rous power;
Some rustic wretch, who liv’d in Heav’n’s despite, 250
Contemning laws, and trampling on the right.
The cave we found, but vacant all within
(His flock the giant tended on the green):
But round the grot we gaze; and all we view,
In order ranged, our admiration drew: 255
The bending shelves with loads of cheeses press’d,
The folded flocks each sep’rate from the rest
(The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,
The new-fall’n young here bleating for their dams;
The kid distinguish’d from the lambkin lies): 260
The cavern echoes with responsive cries.
Capacious chargers all around were laid,
Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.
With fresh provisions hence our fleet to store
My friends advise me, and to quit the shore; 265
Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,
Consult our safety, and put off to sea.
The wholesome counsel rashly I declin’d,
And try what social rites a savage lends: 270
Dire rites, alas! and fatal to my friends!
‘Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare!
For his return with sacrifice and prayer.
The laden shelves afford us full repast;
We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last. 275
Near half a forest on his back he bore,
And cast the pond’rous burden at the door.
It thunder’d as it fell. We trembled then,
And sought the deep recesses of the den.
Now, driv’n before him thro’ the arching rock, 280
Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, th’ unnumber’d flock:
Big-udder’d ewes, and goats of female kind
(The males were penn’d in outward courts behind);
Then, heav’d on high, a rock’s enormous weight
To the cave’s mouth he roll’d, and closed the gate 285
(Scarce twenty four-wheel’d cars, compact and strong,
The massy load could bear, or roll along).
He next betakes him to his evening cares,
And, sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;
Of half their udders eases first the dams, 290
Then to the mothers’ teats submits the lambs.
Half the white stream to hard’ning cheese he press’d,
And high in wicker-baskets heap’d: the rest,
Reserv’d in bowls, supplied his nightly feast.
His labour done, he fired the pile, that gave 295
A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave.
We stand discover’d by the rising fires;
Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires:
‘“What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,
Thus far ye wander thro’ the wat’ry way? 300
Pirates perhaps, who seek thro’ seas unknown
The lives of others, and expose your own?”
‘His voice like thunder thro’ the cavern sounds:
My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,
Appall’d at sight of more than mortal man! 305
At length, with heart recover’d, I began:
‘“From Troy’s famed fields, say wand’rers o’er the main,
Behold the relics of the Grecian train!
Thro’ various seas, by various perils, toss’d,
And forc’d by storms, unwilling, on your coast; 310
Far from our destin’d course and native land,
Such was our fate, and such high Jove’s command!
Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,
Atrides’ friends (in arms a mighty name),
Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow: 315
Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!
Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;
Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.
At least, some hospitable gift bestow;
‘T is what the happy to th’ unhappy owe: 320
‘T is what the Gods require: those Gods revere;
The poor and stranger are their constant care;
To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,
He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs.”
‘“Fools that ye are” (the savage thus replies, 325
His inward fury blazing at his eyes),
“Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
To bid me rev’rence or regard the Gods,
Know then, we Cyclops are a race above
Those air-bred people, and their goat-nurs’d Jove; 330
And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine,
Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline.
But answer, the good ship that brought ye o’er,
Where lies she anchor’d? near or off the shore?”
‘Thus he. His meditated fraud I find 335
(Vers’d in the turns of various humankind),
And, cautious, thus: “Against a dreadful rock,
Fast by your shore, the gallant vessel broke.
Scarce with these few I ‘scaped, of all my train:
Whom angry Neptune whelm’d beneath the main: 340
The scatter’d wreck the winds blew back again.”
‘He answer’d with his deed: his bloody hand
Snatch’d two, unhappy! of my martial band;
And dash’d like dogs against the stony floor:
The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore. 345
Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,
And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:
He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,
Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.
We see the death from which we cannot move, 350
And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.
His ample maw with human carnage fill’d,
A milky deluge next the giant swill’d;
Then, stretch’d in length o’er half the cavern’d rock,
Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock. 355
To seize the time, and with a sudden wound
To fix the slumb’ring monster to the ground,
My soul impels me! and in act I stand
To draw the sword; but wisdom held my hand.
A deed so rash had finish’d all our fate, 360
No mortal forces from the lofty gate
Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,
And sigh, expecting the return of day.
‘Now did the Rosy-finger’d Morn arise,
And shed her sacred light along the skies. 365
He wakes, he lights the fires, he milks the dams,
And to the mothers’ teats submits the lambs.
The task thus finish’d of his morning hours,
Two more he snatches, murders and devours.
Then pleas’d, and whistling, drives his flock before, 370
Removes the rocky mountain from the door,
And shuts again: with equal ease disposed
As a light quiver’s lid is oped and closed.
His giant voice the echoing region fills:
His flocks, obedient, spread o’er all the hills. 375
‘Thus left behind, ev’n in the last despair
I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.
Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work’d my breast;
But this of many counsels seem’d the best:
The monster’s club within the cave I spied, 380
A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undried,
Green from the wood: of height and bulk so vast,
The largest ship might claim it for a mast.
This shorten’d of its top, I gave my train
A fathom’s length, to shape it and to plane: 385
The narrower end I sharpen’d to a spire;
Whose point we harden’d with the force of fire,
And hid it in the dust that strew’d the cave.
Then to my few companions, bold and brave,
Proposed, who first the venturous deed should try, 390
In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye
To plunge the brand, and twirl the pointed wood,
When slumber next should tame the man of blood.
Just as I wish’d, the lots were cast on four:
Myself the fifth. We stand and wait the hour. 395
He comes with ev’ning: all his fleecy flock
Before him march, and pour into the rock:
Not one, or male or female, stay’d behind
(So fortune chanc’d, or so some God design’d);
Then heaving high the stone’s unwieldy weight, 400
He roll’d it on the cave, and closed the gate.
First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,
And then permits their udders to the lambs.
Next seiz’d two wretches more, and headlong cast,
I then approach’d him reeking with their gore,
And held the brimming goblet foaming o’er:
“Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,
Now drain this goblet, potent to digest;
Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost, 410
And what rich liquors other climates boast.
We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,
If home thou send us, and vouchsafe to spare.
But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore,
The sons of men shall ne’er approach thy shore, 415
And never shalt thou taste this nectar more.”
‘He heard, he took, and, pouring down his throat,
Delighted, swill’d the large luxurious draught.
“More! give me more” (he cried), “the boon be thine,
Whoe’er thou art that bear’st celestial wine! 420
Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,
Such as th’ unbless’d Cyclopean climes produce
(Tho’ sure our vine the largest cluster yields,
And Jove’s scorn’d thunder serves to drench our fields);
But this descended from the bless’d abodes, 425
A rill of nectar, streaming from the Gods.”
‘He said, and greedy grasp’d the heady bowl,
Thrice drain’d, and pur’d the deluge on his soul.
His sense lay cover’d with the dozy fume;
While thus my fraudful speech I reassume. 430
“Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,
And plead my title; Noman is my name.
By that distinguish’d from my tender years,
‘T is what my parents call me, and my peers.”
‘The giant then: “Our promised grace receive, 435
The hospitable boon we mean to give:
When all thy wretched crew have felt my power,
Noman shall be the last I will devour.”
‘He said: then, nodding with the fumes of wine,
Dropp’d his huge head, and snoring lay supine. 440
His neck obliquely o’er his shoulders hung,
Press’d with the weight of sleep, that tames the strong:
There belch’d the mingled streams of wine and blood,
And human flesh, his indigested food.
Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire 445
With animating breath the seeds of fire;
Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,
And urge my train the dreadful deed to dare:
The stake now glow’d beneath the burning bed
(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red. 450
Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;
With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.
Urged by some present God, they swift let fall
The pointed torment on his visual ball.
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 129