At last the weary vigil was over, the huge stone portal was rolled aside, and the male sheep and goats went forth to pasture, while the females remained in their pens, bleating and in pain, for they were swollen with milk, and there was none to relieve them. As the rams went past Polyphemus felt their backs, to see if the men were there; but the simple monster never thought of feeling under their bellies. Last in the train came the big ram, with Odysseus clinging underneath. Then said Polyphemus, as his great hands passed over his back: "Dear ram, why art thou the last to leave the cave? Thou wast never wont to be a sluggard, but ever thou tookest the lead, walking with long strides, whether thou wast cropping the tender, flowering grass, or going down to the waterside, or returning at even to the fold. Surely thou art heavy with sorrow for thy master's eye, which the villain Noman and his pitiful mates have blinded. Would that thou hadst a voice, to tell me where he is skulking from my fury! Then would I pour forth his brains like water on the ground, and lighten my heart of the woe which hath been brought upon me by the hands of this nithering[1] Noman." [Footnote 1: See Scott, "Ivanhoe."] So saying he let the ram go, and as soon as he was clear of the courtyard Odysseus dropped to the ground, and ran to loose his comrades. With all speed they made their way down to the ship, driving the rams before them, with many a fearful backward glance. Right glad were their friends to see them again, though their faces fell when they saw their numbers reduced by half. But there was no time for regrets, for Polyphemus was already close upon them, groping his way painfully from rock to rock. So they flung the sheep on board, shoved off the vessel, and took to their oars. While they were still within earshot Odysseus bade his men cease rowing, and standing up in the stern called aloud to the Cyclops in mocking tones: "How likest thou my gift for thy hospitality, my gentle host? Methinks thou art paid in full, and canst not complain that I have not given thee good measure." When he heard that, Polyphemus bellowed with rage, and tearing up a great boulder from the side of the cliff he flung it with mighty force in the direction of the voice. It fell into the sea right in front of the ship, and raised a billow which washed her back to the shore. Odysseus pushed her off with a long pole, and signalled to his men to give way. They rowed for dear life, and had attained twice the former distance from the shore when Odysseus stopped them again, though they besought him earnestly to forego his rash purpose, and to refrain from provoking Polyphemus more. But he, being exceeding wroth for the murder of his men, would not be persuaded; and lifting up his voice he spake again: "Cyclops, if anyone ask thee to whom thou owest the loss of thine eye, say that it was Odysseus, the son of Laertes, who reft thee of sight, and his home is in rocky Ithaca."