Chapman 9.398-419
Maria Curley /
- Created on 2024-06-04 15:26:56
- Modified on 2024-07-22 21:34:13
- Translated by George Chapman (1615)
- Aligned by Maria Curley
Ἑλληνική Transliterate
English
τὸν μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψεν ἀπὸ ἕο χερσὶν ἀλύων ,
αὐτὰρ ὁ Κύκλωπας μεγάλʼ ἤπυεν , οἵ ῥά μιν ἀμφὶς
ᾤκεον ἐν σπήεσσι διʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας .
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀίοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος ,
ἱστάμενοι δʼ εἴροντο περὶ σπέος ὅττι ἑ κήδοι ·
τίπτε τόσον , Πολύφημʼ , ἀρημένος ὧδʼ ἐβόησας
νύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην καὶ ἀύπνους ἄμμε τίθησθα ;
ἦ μή τίς σευ μῆλα βροτῶν ἀέκοντος ἐλαύνει ;
ἦ μή τίς σʼ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν ;
τοὺς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος ·
ὦ φίλοι , Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν .
οἱ δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον ·
εἰ μὲν δὴ μή τίς σε βιάζεται οἶον ἐόντα ,
νοῦσον γʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς μεγάλου ἀλέασθαι ,
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ εὔχεο πατρὶ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι .
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν ἀπιόντες , ἐμὸν δʼ ἐγέλασσε φίλον κῆρ ,
ὡς ὄνομʼ ἐξαπάτησεν ἐμὸν καὶ μῆτις ἀμύμων .
Κύκλωψ δὲ στενάχων τε καὶ ὠδίνων ὀδύνῃσι
χερσὶ ψηλαφόων ἀπὸ μὲν λίθον εἷλε θυράων ,
αὐτὸς δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι καθέζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας ,
εἴ τινά που μετʼ ὄεσσι λάβοι στείχοντα θύραζε ·
οὕτω γάρ πού μʼ ἤλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ νήπιον εἶναι .
αὐτὰρ ὁ Κύκλωπας μεγάλʼ ἤπυεν , οἵ ῥά μιν ἀμφὶς
ᾤκεον ἐν σπήεσσι διʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας .
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀίοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος ,
ἱστάμενοι δʼ εἴροντο περὶ σπέος ὅττι ἑ κήδοι ·
τίπτε τόσον , Πολύφημʼ , ἀρημένος ὧδʼ ἐβόησας
νύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην καὶ ἀύπνους ἄμμε τίθησθα ;
ἦ μή τίς σευ μῆλα βροτῶν ἀέκοντος ἐλαύνει ;
ἦ μή τίς σʼ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν ;
τοὺς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος ·
ὦ φίλοι , Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν .
οἱ δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον ·
εἰ μὲν δὴ μή τίς σε βιάζεται οἶον ἐόντα ,
νοῦσον γʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς μεγάλου ἀλέασθαι ,
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ εὔχεο πατρὶ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι .
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν ἀπιόντες , ἐμὸν δʼ ἐγέλασσε φίλον κῆρ ,
ὡς ὄνομʼ ἐξαπάτησεν ἐμὸν καὶ μῆτις ἀμύμων .
Κύκλωψ δὲ στενάχων τε καὶ ὠδίνων ὀδύνῃσι
χερσὶ ψηλαφόων ἀπὸ μὲν λίθον εἷλε θυράων ,
αὐτὸς δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι καθέζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας ,
εἴ τινά που μετʼ ὄεσσι λάβοι στείχοντα θύραζε ·
οὕτω γάρ πού μʼ ἤλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ νήπιον εἶναι .
he
hurl’d
the
wood
About his hovel . Out he then did cry
For other Cyclops , that in caverns by
Upon a windy promontory dwell’d ;
Who , hearing how impetuously he yell’d ,
Rush’d ev’ry way about him , and inquir’d ,
What ill afflicted him , that he exspir’d
Such horrid clamours , and in sacred Night
To break their sleeps so ? Ask’d him , if his fright
Came from some mortal that his flocks had driv’n ?
Or if by craft , or might , his death were giv’n ?
He answer’d from his den : ‘By craft , nor might ,
No-Man hath giv’n me death . ’ They then said right ,
‘If no man hurt thee , and thyself alone ,
That which is done to thee by Jove is done ;
And what great Jove inflicts no man can fly .
Pray to thy Father yet , a Deity ,
And prove , from him if thou canst help 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 ; whom now pain did split ,
And groaning up and down he groping tried
To find the stone , which found , he put aside ;
But in the door sat , feeling if he could
( As his sheep issued ) on some man lay hold ;
Esteeming me a fool , that could devise
No stratagem to ‘scape his gross surprise .
About his hovel . Out he then did cry
For other Cyclops , that in caverns by
Upon a windy promontory dwell’d ;
Who , hearing how impetuously he yell’d ,
Rush’d ev’ry way about him , and inquir’d ,
What ill afflicted him , that he exspir’d
Such horrid clamours , and in sacred Night
To break their sleeps so ? Ask’d him , if his fright
Came from some mortal that his flocks had driv’n ?
Or if by craft , or might , his death were giv’n ?
He answer’d from his den : ‘By craft , nor might ,
No-Man hath giv’n me death . ’ They then said right ,
‘If no man hurt thee , and thyself alone ,
That which is done to thee by Jove is done ;
And what great Jove inflicts no man can fly .
Pray to thy Father yet , a Deity ,
And prove , from him if thou canst help 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 ; whom now pain did split ,
And groaning up and down he groping tried
To find the stone , which found , he put aside ;
But in the door sat , feeling if he could
( As his sheep issued ) on some man lay hold ;
Esteeming me a fool , that could devise
No stratagem to ‘scape his gross surprise .