Thenceforth no pleasure found it to abstain. 240 Charged with an ample goat-skin of this wine I went, and with a wallet well supplied, But felt a sudden presage in my soul That, haply, with terrific force endued, Some savage would appear, strange to the laws And privileges of the human race. Few steps convey'd us to his den, but him We found not; he his flocks pastur'd abroad. His cavern ent'ring, we with wonder gazed Around on all; his strainers hung with cheese 250 Distended wide; with lambs and kids his penns Close-throng'd we saw, and folded separate The various charge; the eldest all apart, Apart the middle-aged, and the new-yean'd Also apart. His pails and bowls with whey Swam all, neat vessels into which he milk'd. Me then my friends first importuned to take A portion of his cheeses, then to drive Forth from the sheep-cotes to the rapid bark His kids and lambs, and plow the brine again. 260 But me they moved not, happier had they moved! I wish'd to see him, and to gain, perchance, Some pledge of hospitality at his hands, Whose form was such, as should not much bespeak When he appear'd, our confidence or love. Then, kindling fire, we offer'd to the Gods, And of his cheeses eating, patient sat Till home he trudged from pasture. Charged he came With dry wood bundled, an enormous load Fuel by which to sup. Loud crash'd the thorns 270 Which down he cast before the cavern's mouth, To whose interior nooks we trembling flew. At once he drove into his spacious cave His batten'd flock, all those which gave him milk, But all the males, both rams and goats, he left Abroad, excluded from the cavern-yard. Upheaving, next, a rocky barrier huge To his cave's mouth, he thrust it home. That weight Not all the oxen from its place had moved Of twenty and two wains; with such a rock 280 Immense his den he closed. Then down he sat, And as he milk'd his ewes and bleating goats All in their turns, her yeanling gave to each; Coagulating, then, with brisk dispatch, The half of his new milk, he thrust the curd Into his wicker sieves, but stored the rest In pans and bowls--his customary drink. His labours thus perform'd, he kindled, last, His fuel, and discerning _us_, enquired, Who are ye, strangers? from what distant shore 290 Roam ye the waters? traffic ye? or bound To no one port, wander, as pirates use, At large the Deep, exposing life themselves, And enemies of all mankind beside? He ceased; we, dash'd with terrour, heard the growl Of his big voice, and view'd his form uncouth, To whom, though sore appall'd, I thus replied. Of Greece are we, and, bound from Ilium home,