Meanwhile Odysseus had been hard at work, taking measures to escape with his comrades from the cave.  Among the flocks of Polyphemus were several big rams, with fleeces of remarkable thickness and beauty.  Of these he took three at a time, and lashed them together, side by side, with osiers, which served Polyphemus for a bed.  Each middle ram bore one of the men firmly bound with osiers under his belly; while the two outside rams served to conceal that living burden.  Last of all Odysseus provided for his own safety.  There was one monster ram, the leader of the flock, with a grand fleece which trailed on the ground, like the leaves of the weeping ash.  Him Odysseus reserved for himself, and creeping under his belly hauled himself up until he was entirely hidden by the drooping fleece, and so hung on steadfastly, waiting for the day.

At last the weary vigil was over, the huge stone portal was rolled aside, and the male sheep and goats went forth to pasture, while the females remained in their pens, bleating and in pain, for they were swollen with milk, and there was none to relieve them.  As the rams went past Polyphemus felt their backs, to see if the men were there; but the simple monster never thought of feeling under their bellies.  Last in the train came the big ram, with Odysseus clinging underneath.  Then said Polyphemus, as his great hands passed over his back:  “Dear ram, why art thou the last to leave the cave?  Thou wast never wont to be a sluggard, but ever thou tookest the lead, walking with long strides, whether thou wast cropping the tender, flowering grass, or going down to the waterside, or returning at even to the fold.  Surely thou art heavy with sorrow for thy master’s eye, which the villain Noman and his pitiful mates have blinded.  Would that thou hadst a voice, to tell me where he is skulking from my fury!  Then would I pour forth his brains like water on the ground, and lighten my heart of the woe which hath been brought upon me by the hands of this nithering[1] Noman.”

[Footnote 1:  See Scott, “Ivanhoe.”]

So saying he let the ram go, and as soon as he was clear of the courtyard Odysseus dropped to the ground, and ran to loose his comrades.  With all speed they made their way down to the ship, driving the rams before them, with many a fearful backward glance.  Right glad were their friends to see them again, though their faces fell when they saw their numbers reduced by half.  But there was no time for regrets, for Polyphemus was already close upon them, groping his way painfully from rock to rock.  So they flung the sheep on board, shoved off the vessel, and took to their oars.  While they were still within earshot Odysseus bade his men cease rowing, and standing up in the stern called aloud to the Cyclops in mocking tones:  “How likest thou my gift for thy hospitality, my gentle host?  Methinks thou art paid in full, and canst not complain that I have not given thee good measure.”