CHORUS: 
Go!  But what needs this serious haste, O father? 75

SILENUS: 
I see a Grecian vessel on the coast,
And thence the rowers with some general
Approaching to this cave.—­About their necks
Hang empty vessels, as they wanted food,
And water-flasks.—­Oh, miserable strangers! 80
Whence come they, that they know not what and who
My master is, approaching in ill hour
The inhospitable roof of Polypheme,
And the Cyclopian jaw-bone, man-destroying? 
Be silent, Satyrs, while I ask and hear 85
Whence coming, they arrive the Aetnean hill.

ULYSSES: 
Friends, can you show me some clear water-spring,
The remedy of our thirst?  Will any one
Furnish with food seamen in want of it? 
Ha! what is this?  We seem to be arrived 90
At the blithe court of Bacchus.  I observe
This sportive band of Satyrs near the caves. 
First let me greet the elder.—­Hail!

SILENUS: 
Hail thou,
O Stranger! tell thy country and thy race.

ULYSSES: 
The Ithacan Ulysses and the king 95
Of Cephalonia.

SILENUS: 
Oh!  I know the man,
Wordy and shrewd, the son of Sisyphus.

ULYSSES: 
I am the same, but do not rail upon me.—­

SILENUS: 
Whence sailing do you come to Sicily?

ULYSSES: 
From Ilion, and from the Trojan toils. 100

SILENUS: 
How, touched you not at your paternal shore?

ULYSSES: 
The strength of tempests bore me here by force.

SILENUS: 
The self-same accident occurred to me.

ULYSSES: 
Were you then driven here by stress of weather?

SILENUS: 
Following the Pirates who had kidnapped Bacchus. 105

ULYSSES: 
What land is this, and who inhabit it?—­

SILENUS: 
Aetna, the loftiest peak in Sicily.

ULYSSES: 
And are there walls, and tower-surrounded towns?

SILENUS: 
There are not.—­These lone rocks are bare of men.

ULYSSES: 
And who possess the land? the race of beasts? 110

SILENUS: 
Cyclops, who live in caverns, not in houses.

ULYSSES: 
Obeying whom?  Or is the state popular?

SILENUS: 
Shepherds:  no one obeys any in aught.

ULYSSES: 
How live they? do they sow the corn of Ceres?

SILENUS: 
On milk and cheese, and on the flesh of sheep. 115

ULYSSES: 
Have they the Bromian drink from the vine’s stream?

SILENUS: 
Ah! no; they live in an ungracious land.

ULYSSES: 
And are they just to strangers?—­hospitable?

SILENUS: 
They think the sweetest thing a stranger brings
Is his own flesh.