CHORUS: 
One with eyes the fairest
Cometh from his dwelling;
Some one loves thee, rarest
Bright beyond my telling. 
In thy grace thou shinest 520
Like some nymph divinest
In her caverns dewy:—­
All delights pursue thee,
Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing,
Shall thy head be wreathing. 525

ULYSSES: 
Listen, O Cyclops, for I am well skilled
In Bacchus, whom I gave thee of to drink.

CYCLOPS: 
What sort of God is Bacchus then accounted?

ULYSSES: 
The greatest among men for joy of life.

CYCLOPS: 
I gulped him down with very great delight. 530

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 gives joy, what is his skin to you? 535

CYCLOPS: 
I hate the skin, but love the wine within.

ULYSSES: 
Stay here now:  drink, and make your spirit glad.

NOTE: 
537 Stay here now, drink B.; stay here, now drink 1824.

CYCLOPS: 
Should I not share this liquor with my brothers?

ULYSSES: 
Keep it yourself, and be more honoured so.

CYCLOPS: 
I were more useful, giving to my friends. 540

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. 545

CYCLOPS: 
What shall I do, Silenus?  Shall I stay?

SILENUS: 
Stay—­for what need have you of pot companions?

CYCLOPS: 
Indeed this place is closely carpeted
With flowers and grass.

SILENUS: 
And in the sun-warm noon
’Tis sweet to drink.  Lie down beside me now, 550
Placing your mighty sides upon the ground.

CYCLOPS: 
What do you put the cup behind me for?

SILENUS: 
That no one here may touch it.

CYCLOPS: 
Thievish One! 
You want to drink;—­here place it in the midst. 
And thou, O stranger, tell how art thou called? 555

ULYSSES: 
My name is Nobody.  What favour now
Shall I receive to praise you at your hands?

CYCLOPS: 
I’ll feast on you the last of your companions.

ULYSSES: 
You grant your guest a fair reward, O Cyclops.

CYCLOPS: 
Ha! what is this?  Stealing the wine, you rogue! 560