To dry and season, being an olive-tree Which late he fell’d, and, being green, must be Made lighter for his manage. ’Twas so vast, That we resembled it to some fit mast, To serve a ship of burthen that was driv’n With twenty oars, and had a bigness giv’n To bear a huge sea. Full so thick, so tall, We judg’d this club; which I, in part, hew’d small, And cut a fathom off. The piece I gave Amongst my soldiers, to take down, and shave; Which done, I sharpen’d it at top, and then, Harden’d in fire, I hid it in the den Within a nasty dunghill reeking there, Thick, and so moist it issued ev’rywhere. Then made I lots cast by my friends to try Whose fortune serv’d to dare the bor’d-out eye Of that man-eater; and the lot did fall On four I wish’d to make my aid of all, And I the fifth made, chosen like the rest. Then came the even, and he came from the feast Of his fat cattle, drave in all; nor kept One male abroad; if, or his memory slept By Gods’ direct will, or of purpose was His driving in of all then, doth surpass My comprehension. But he clos’d again The mighty bar, milk’d, and did still maintain All other observation as before. His work all done, two of my soldiers more At once he snatch’d up, and to supper went. Then dar’d I words to him, and did present A bowl of wine, with these words: ‘Cyclop! take A bowl of wine, from my hand, that may make Way for the man’s flesh thou hast eat, and show What drink our ship held; which in sacred vow I offer to thee to take ruth on me In my dismission home. Thy rages be Now no more sufferable. How shall men, Mad and inhuman that thou art, again Greet thy abode, and get thy actions grace, If thus thou ragest, and eat’st up their race.’ He took, and drunk, and vehemently joy’d To taste the sweet cup; and again employ’d My flagon’s pow’rs, entreating more, and said: ῾Good guest, again afford my taste thy aid, And let me know thy name, and quickly now, That in thy recompense I may bestow A hospitable gift on thy desert, And such a one as shall rejoice thy heart. For to the Cyclops too the gentle earth Bears gen’rous wine, and Jove augments her birth, In store of such, with show’rs; but this rich wine Fell from the river, that is mere divine, Of nectar and ambrosia.’ This again I gave him, and again; nor could the fool abstain, But drunk as often. When the noble juice Had wrought upon his spirit, I then gave use To fairer language, saying: ‘Cyclop! now, As thou demand’st, I’ll tell my name, do thou Make good thy hospitable gift to me. My name is No-Man; No-Man each degree Of friends, as well as parents, call my name.’ He answer’d, as his cruel soul became: ‘No-Man! I’ll eat thee last of all thy friends; And this is that in which so much amends I vow’d to thy deservings, thus shall be My hospitable gift made good to thee.’ This said, he upwards fell, but then bent round His fleshy neck; and Sleep, with all crowns crown’d, Subdued the savage. From his throat brake out My wine, with man’s-flesh gobbets, like a spout,