When the evening was come, the Cyclop drove home his sheep; and as fortune
directed it, either of purpose, or that his memory was overruled by the
gods to his hurt (as in the issue it proved), he drove the males of his
flock, contrary to his custom, along with the dams into the pens. Then
shutting-to the stone of the cave, he fell to his horrible supper. When he
had despatched two more of the Grecians, Ulysses waxed bold with the
contemplation of his project, and took a bowl of Greek wine, and merrily
dared the Cyclop to drink.
[Illustration: _'Cyclop,' he said, 'take a bowl of wine from the hand of
your guest.'_]
"Cyclop," he said, "take a bowl of wine from the hand of your guest: it
may serve to digest the man's flesh that you have eaten, and show what
drink our ship held before it went down. All I ask in recompense, if you
find it good, is to be dismissed in a whole skin. Truly you must look to
have few visitors, if you observe this new custom of eating your guests."
The brute took and drank, and vehemently enjoyed the taste of wine, which
was new to him, and swilled again at the flagon, and entreated for more,
and prayed Ulysses to tell him his name, that he might bestow a gift upon
the man who had given him such brave liquor. The Cyclops, he said, had
grapes, but this rich juice, he swore, was simply divine. Again Ulysses
plied him with the wine, and the fool drank it as fast as he poured out,
and again he asked the name of his benefactor, which Ulysses, cunningly
dissembling, said, "My name is Noman: my kindred and friends in my own
country call me Noman.
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