CYCLOPS:
Are the bowls full of milk besides?
SILENUS:
O’er-brimming; _195
So you may drink a tunful if you will.
CYCLOPS:
Is it ewe’s milk or cow’s milk, or both mixed?—
SILENUS:
Both, either; only pray don’t swallow me.
CYCLOPS:
By no means.—
…
What is this crowd I see beside the stalls? _200
Outlaws or thieves? for near my cavern-home
I see my young lambs coupled two by two
With willow bands; mixed with my cheeses lie
Their implements; and this old fellow here
Has his bald head broken with stripes.
SILENUS:
Ah me! _205
I have been beaten till I burn with fever.
CYCLOPS:
By whom? Who laid his fist upon your head?
SILENUS:
Those men, because I would not suffer them
To steal your goods.
CYCLOPS:
Did not the rascals know
I am a God, sprung from the race of Heaven? _210
SILENUS:
I told them so, but they bore off your things,
And ate the cheese in spite of all I said,
And carried out the lambs—and said, moreover,
They’d pin you down with a three-cubit collar,
And pull your vitals out through your one eye, _215
Furrow your back with stripes, then, binding you,
Throw you as ballast into the ship’s hold,
And then deliver you, a slave, to move
Enormous rocks, or found a vestibule.