CHORUS. Oh sweeter far Than is the music of an Asian lyre Would be the news of Polypheme destroyed. ULYSSES. Delighted with the Bacchic drink, he goes CHORUS. I understand: catching him when alone, ULYSSES. O no; Nothing of that kind; my device is subtle. CHORUS. How then? I heard of old that thou wert wise. ULYSSES. I will dissuade him from this plan, by saying When vanquished by the Bacchic power, he sleeps, Whose point, having made sharp with this good sword, It is alight, will fix it, burning yet, So will I in the Cyclops' fiery eye Turn round the brand, and dry the pupil up. CHORUS. Joy! I am mad with joy at your device. ULYSSES. And then with you, my friends, and the old man, CHORUS. May I, as in libations to a God, Share in the blinding him with the red brand? ULYSSES. Doubtless; the brand is a great brand to hold. CHORUS. Oh! I would lift a hundred waggon-loads, ULYSSES. Silence now! Ye know the close device-and when I call, CHORUS. Come! who is first, that with his hand Through the lids, and quench and pierce The Cyclops' eye so fiery fierce? SEMI-CHORUS I. Song within. Listen! listen! he is coming, By all means he must be blinded, SEMI-CHORUS II. Happy those made odorous With the dew which sweet grapes weep, Seek the vines that soothe to sleep, CYCLOPS. Ha ha ha! I'm full of wine, Tempts me forth, thus wandering To my Who shall share the wine's sweet fountains. Bring the cask, O stranger, bring! CHORUS. One with eyes the fairest Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing, ULYSSES. Listen, O Cyclops, for I am well skilled CYCLOPS. What sort of God is Bacchus then accounted? ULYSSES. The greatest among men for joy of life. CYCLOPS. I gulpt him down with very great delight. ULYSSES. This is a God who never injures men. CYCLOPS. How does the God like living in a skin? ULYSSES. He is content wherever he is put. CYCLOPS. Gods should not have their body in a skin. ULYSSES. If he give joy, what is his skin to you? CYCLOPS. I hate the skin, but love the wine within. ULYSSES. Stay here; now drink, and make your spirit glad. CYCLOPS. Should I not share this liquor with my ULYSSES. brothers? Keep it yourself, and be more honoured so. CYCLOPS. I were more useful, giving to my friends. ULYSSES. But village mirth breeds contests, broils, and blows. CYCLOPS. When I am drunk none shall lay hands on me.— ULYSSES. A drunken man is better within doors. CYCLOPS. He is a fool, who drinking loves not mirth. ULYSSES. But he is wise, who drunk, remains at home. CYCLOPS. What shall I do, Silenus? Shall I stay? SILENUS. Stay-for what need have you of pot companions? |