Aeneid

Virgil

Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.

  1. “My home was Ithaca, and I partook
  2. the fortunes of Ulysses evil-starred.
  3. My name is Achemenides, my sire
  4. was Adamastus, and I sailed for Troy,
  5. being so poor,—O, that I ne'er had change
  6. the lot I bore! In yon vast Cyclops' cave
  7. my comrades, flying from its gruesome door,
  8. left me behind, forgotten. 'T is a house
  9. of gory feasts of flesh, 't is deep and dark,
  10. and vaulted high. He looms as high as heaven;
  11. I pray the blessed gods to rid the earth
  12. of the vile monster! None can look on him,
  13. none speak with him. He feeds on clotted gore
  14. of disembowelled men. These very eyes
  15. saw him seize two of our own company,
  16. and, as he lolled back in the cave, he clutched
  17. and dashed them on the stones, fouling the floor
  18. with torrent of their blood; myself I saw him
  19. crunch with his teeth the dripping, bloody limbs
  20. still hot and pulsing on his hungry jaw.
  21. But not without reward! For such a sight
  22. Ulysses would not brook, and Ithaca
  23. forgot not in such strait the name he bore.
  24. For soon as, gorged with feasting and o'ercome
  25. with drunken slumber, the foul giant lay
  26. sprawled through the cave, his head dropped helpless down,
  27. disgorging as he slept thick drool of gore
  28. and gobbets drenched with bloody wine; then we,
  29. calling on Heaven and taking place by lot,
  30. drew round him like one man, and with a beam
  31. sharpened at end bored out that monster eye,
  32. which, huge and sole, lay under the grim brow,
  33. round as an Argive shield or Phoebus' star.
  34. Thus took we joyful vengeance for the shades
  35. of our lost mates. But, O ill-fated men!
  36. Fly, I implore, and cut the cables free
  37. along the beach! For in the land abide,
  38. like Polyphemus, who in hollow cave
  39. kept fleecy sheep, and milked his fruitful ewes,
  40. a hundred other, huge as he, who rove
  41. wide o'er this winding shore and mountains fair:
  42. Cyclops accursed, bestial! Thrice the moon
  43. has filled her horns with light, while here I dwell
  44. in lonely woods and lairs of creatures wild;
  45. or from tall cliffs out-peering I discern
  46. the Cyclops, and shrink shuddering from the sound
  47. of their vast step and cry. My sorry fare
  48. is berries and hard corners dropped from trees,
  49. or herb-roots torn out from the niggard ground.
  50. Though watching the whole sea, only today
  51. Have I had sight of ships. To you I fled.
  52. Whate'er ye be, it was my only prayer
  53. to 'scape that monster brood. I ask no more.
  54. O, set me free by any death ye will!”