Cyclops and No-Man

When the noble Juyce
Had wrought upon his spirit; I then gave use
To fairer language; saying: Cyclop ! now
As thou demandst, Ile tell thee my name; do thou
Make good thy hospitable gift to me;
My name is No-Man ; No-Man , each degree
Of friends, as well as parents, call my name.
He answerd, as his cruell soule became:
No-Man ! Ile eate thee last of all thy friends;
And this is that, in which so much amends
I vowd to thy deservings; thus shall be
My hospitable gift made good to thee.
This said; he upwards fell; but then bent round
His fleshie necke; and Sleepe (with all crownes, crownd)
Subdude the Savage. From his throte brake out
My wine, with mans flesh gobbets, like a spout;
When loded with his cups, he lay and snor'd.
And then tooke I the clubs end up, and gor'd
The burning cole-heape, that the point might heate;
Confirmd my fellowes minds, lest Feare should let
Their vowd assay, and make them flie my aid.
Strait was the Olive Lever I had laid
Amidst the huge fire, to get hardning, hot;
And glowd extremely, though twas green; (which got
From forth the cinders) close about me stood
My hardie friends: but that which did the good
Was God's good inspiration, that gave
A spirit beyond the spirit they usde to have:
Who tooke the Olive sparre, made keene before,
And plung'd it in his eye: and up I bore,
Bent to the top close; and helpt poure it in,
With all my forces: And as you have seene
A ship-wright bore a navall beame; he oft
Thrusts at the Augurs Froofe; works still aloft;
And at the shanke, helpe others; with a cord
Wound round about, to make it sooner bor'd;
All plying the round still: So into his eye
The firie stake we labourd to imply.
Out gusht the blood that scalded; his eye-ball
Thrust out a flaming vapour, that scorcht all
His browes and eye-lids; his eye-strings did cracke,
As in the sharpe and burning rafter brake.
And as a Smith to harden any toole,
(Broad Axe, or Mattocke) in his Trough doth coole
The red-hote substance, that so fervent is,
It makes the cold wave strait to seethe and hisse:
So sod, and hizd his eye about the stake.
He roar'd withall; and all his Caverne brake
In claps like thunder. We did frighted flie,
Disperst in corners. He from forth his eie,
The fixed stake pluckt: after which, the blood
Flowd freshly forth; and, mad, he hurl'd the wood
About his hovill. Out he then did crie
For other Cyclops , that in Cavernes by,
Upon a windie Promontorie dwelld;
Who hearing how impetuously he yelld,
Rusht every way about him; and enquir'd,
What ill afflicted him, that he expir'd
Such horrid clamors; and in sacred Night,
To breake their sleepes so? Askt him, if his fright
Came from some mortall, that his flocks had driven?
Or if by craft, or might, his death were given?
He answerd from his den; By craft, nor might,
No man hath given me death. They then said right;
If no man hurt thee, and thy selfe alone;
That which is done to thee, by Jove is done.
And what great Jove inflicts, no man can flie;
Pray to thy Father yet, a Deitie;
And prove, from him, if thou canst helpe acquire.
Thus spake they, leaving him. When all on fire,
My heart with joy was; that so well my wit,
And name deceiv'd him; [. . .]
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Author of original: 
Homer
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