Thence sad in heart we sail’d; and yet our state Was something cheer’d, that (being o’er-match’d so much In violent number) our retreat was such As sav’d so many. Our dear loss the less, That they surviv’d, so like for like success. Yet left we not the coast, before we call’d Home to our country-earth the souls exhal’d Of all the friends the Cicons overcame. Thrice call’d we on them by their sev’ral name,[5] And then took leave. Then from the angry North Cloud-gath’ring Jove a dreadful storm call’d forth Against our navy, cover’d shore and all With gloomy vapours. Night did headlong fall From frowning heav’n. And then hurl’d here and there Was all our navy; the rude winds did tear In three, in four parts, all their sails; and down Driv’n under hatches were we, prest to drown. Up rush’d we yet again, and with tough hand (Two days, two nights, entoil’d) we gat near land, Labours and sorrows eating up our minds. The third clear day yet, to more friendly winds We masts advanc’d, we white sails spread, and sate. Forewinds and guides again did iterate Our ease and home-hopes; which we clear had reach’d, Had not, by chance, a sudden north-wind fetch’d, With an extreme sea, quite about again Our whole endeavours, and our course constrain To giddy round, and with our bow’d sails greet Dreadful Maleia, calling back our fleet As far forth as Cythera. Nine days more Adverse winds toss’d me; and the tenth, the shore, Where dwelt the blossom-fed Lotophagi, I fetch’d, fresh water took in, instantly Fell to our food aship-board, and then sent Two of my choice men to the continent (Adding a third, a herald) to discover What sort of people were the rulers over The land next to us. Where, the first they met, Were the Lotophagi, that made them eat Their country-diet, and no ill intent Hid in their hearts to them; and yet th’ event To ill converted it, for having eat Their dainty viands, they did quite forget (As all men else that did but taste their feast) Both countrymen and country, nor addrest Any return t’ inform what sort of men Made fix’d abode there, but would needs maintain Abode themselves there, and eat that food ever. I made out after, and was feign to sever Th’ enchanted knot by forcing their retreat; That striv’d, and wept, and would not leave their meat For heav’n itself. But, dragging them to fleet, I wrapt in sure bands both their hands and feet, And cast them under hatches, and away Commanded all the rest without least stay, Lest they should taste the lote too, and forget With such strange raptures their despis’d retreat. All then aboard, we beat the sea with oars, And still with sad hearts sail’d by out-way shores, Till th’ out-law’d Cyclops’ land we fetch’d; a race Of proud-liv’d loiterers, that never sow, Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a plow, But trust in God for all things; and their earth, Unsown, unplow’d, gives ev’ry offspring birth That other lands have; wheat, and barley, vines That bear in goodly grapes delicious wines;