being brained against the rock, and the floor was plashed
and swimming with blood—they saw, when he was
crunching their limbs, dripping with black gore, and the
warm joints were quivering under his teeth. He did it,
but not unpunished. Ulysses was not the man to brook 15
a deed like this; the brain of Ithaca was not wanting to
itself when the need was so great. For soon as, gorged
with his food and buried in wine, he bent and dropped
his neck, and lay all along the den in unmeasured length,
belching out gore in his sleep, and gobbets mixed with 20