POL. Ha! ha! I am replete with wine, the banquet
Hath cheered my soul: like a well-freighted ship
My stomach’s with abundant viands stowed
Up to my very chin. This smiling turf
Invites me to partake a vernal feast
With my Cyclopean brothers. Stranger, bring
That vessel from the cave.
[_Exit_ ULYSSES.
CHOR. With bright-eyed grace
Our master issues from his spacious hall;
(Some god approves—the kindled torch—) that form
Equals the lustre of a blooming nymph
Fresh from the dripping caverns of the main.
Soon shall the variegated wreath adorn
Your temples.
ULY. [_returning._] Hear me, Cyclops; well I know
Th’ effect of this potation, Bacchus’ gift,
Which I to you dispensed.
POL. Yet say what sort
Of god is Bacchus by his votaries deemed?
ULY. The greatest source of pleasure to mankind.
POL. I therefore to my palate find it sweet.
ULY. A god like this to no man will do wrong.
POL. But in a bottle how can any god
Delight to dwell?
ULY. In whatsoever place
We lodge him, the benignant power resides.
POL. The skins of goats are an unseemly lodging
For deities.
ULY. If you admire the wine,
Why quarrel with its case?
POL. Those filthy hides
I utterly detest, but love the liquor.
ULY. Stay here; drink, drink, O Cyclops, and be gay.
POL. This luscious beverage, must I not impart
To cheer my brothers?
ULY. Keep it to yourself
And you shall seem more honourable.
POL. More useful,
If I distribute largely to my friends.
ULY. Broils, taunts, and discord from the banquet rise.
POL. Though I am fuddled, no man dares to touch me.
ULY. He who hath drunk too freely, O my friend,
Ought to remain at home.
POL. Devoid of reason
Is he who when he drinks pays no regard
To mirth and to good-fellowship.
ULY. More wise,
O’ercharged with wine, who ventures not abroad.
POL. Shall we stay here? What think’st thou, O Silenus?
SIL. With all my heart. What need, for our carousals,
Of a more numerous company?
POL. The ground
Beneath our feet, a flowery turf adorns.
SIL. O how delightful ’tis to drink, and bask
Here in the sunshine: on this grassy couch
Beside me take your seat.
POL. Why dost thou place
The cup behind my elbow?
SIL. Lest some stranger
Should come and snatch the precious boon away.
POL. Thou mean’st to tope clandestinely: between us
Here let it stand. O stranger, by what name
Say shall I call thee?
ULY. Noman is my name.
But for what favour shall I praise your kindness?
POL. The last of all the crew will I devour.
ULY. A wondrous privilege is this, O Cyclops,
Which on the stranger you bestow.
POL. What mean’st thou?
Ha! art thou drinking up the wine by stealth?
SIL. Only the gentle Bacchus gave that kiss,
Because I look so blooming.
POL. Thou shalt weep,
Because thy lips were to the wine applied,
Nor did it seek thy mouth.
SIL. Not thus, by Jove;
I drank because the generous god of wine
Declared that he admired me for my beauty.
POL. Pour forth; give me a bumper.
SIL. I must taste
To see what mixture it requires.
POL. Damnation!
Give it me pure.
SIL. Not so, the heavens forbid!
Till you the wreath bind on your ample front,
And I again have tasted.
POL. What a knave
Is this my cupbearer!
SIL. Accuse me not;
The wine is sweet: you ought to wipe your mouth
Before you drink.
POL. My lips and beard are clean.
SIL. Loll thus upon your elbow with a grace,
Drink as you see me drink, and imitate
My every gesture.
POL. What art thou about?
SIL. I swallowed then a most delicious bumper.
POL. Take thou the cask, O stranger, and perform
The office of my cupbearer.
ULY. These hands
Have been accustomed to the pleasing office.
POL. Now pour it forth.
ULY. Be silent: I obey.
POL. Thou hast proposed a difficult restraint
To him who largely drinks.
ULY. Now drain the bowl;
Leave nought behind: the toper must not prate
Before his liquor’s ended.
POL. In the vine
There’s wisdom.
ULY. When to plenteous food you add
An equal share of liquor, and well drench
The throat beyond what thirst demands, you sink
Into sweet sleep: but if you leave behind
Aught of th’ unfinished beverage in your cup,
Bacchus will scorch your entrails.
POL. ’Tis a mercy
How I swam out; the very heavens whirl round
Mingled with earth. I view Jove’s throne sublime,
And the whole synod of encircling gods.
Were all the Graces to solicit me,
I would not kiss them: Ganymede himself
Appears in matchless beauty.
SIL. I, O Cyclops,
Am Jove’s own Ganymede.
POL. By Heaven thou art!
Whom from the realms of Dardanus I bore.
[_Exit_ POLYPHEME.
SIL. Ruin awaits me.
CHOR. Dost thou loathe him now?
SIL. Ah me! I from this sleep shall soon behold
The most accursed effects.
[_Exit_ SILENUS.
ULY. Come on, ye sons
Of Bacchus, generous youths; for soon dissolved
In slumber shall the monster from those jaws
Vomit forth flesh, within the hall now smokes
The brand, and nought remains but to burn out
The Cyclops’ eye: act only like a man.
CHOR. The firmness of my soul shall equal rocks
And adamant. But go into the cave
With speed, before tumultuous sounds assail
Our aged father’s ears; for to effect
Your purpose, all is ready.
ULY. Vulcan, king
Of Ætna, from this impious pest, who haunts
Thy sacred mountain, free thyself at once,
By burning out his glaring eye; and thou
Nurtured by sable night, O sleep, invade
With thy resistless force this beast abhorred
By Heaven; nor after all the glorious deeds
Achieved at Ilion, with his faithful sailors,
Destroy Ulysses’ self, by him who heeds
Nor god nor mortal. Else must we hold fortune
A goddess, and all other deities
Inferior to resistless fortune’s power.
[_Exit_ ULYSSES.
CHOR. The neck of him who slays his guest,
With burning pincers shall be prest,
And fire bereaving him of sight
Soon shall destroy that orb of light.
Within the embers near at hand
Lies concealed a smoking brand,
Torn from its parental tree.
Maron, we depend on thee;
May th’ exasperated foe
With success direct the blow!
May the Cyclops lose his eye,
And curse his ill-timed jollity!
Thee, Bromius, how I long to meet
Thy front adorned with ivy twine;
Leaving this abhorred retreat.
Ah, when shall such delight be mine?