Silenus: Oh! oh! poor wretch that I am, pounded to a fever.
Cyclops: By whom? who has been pounding thy head, old sirrah?
Silenus: These are the culprits, Cyclops, all because I refused to
let them plunder thee.
Cyclops: Did they not know I was a god and sprung from gods?
Silenus: That was what I told them, but they persisted in plundering
thy goods, and, in spite of my efforts, they actually began to eat
the cheese and carry off the lambs; and they said they would tie thee
in a three-cubit pillory and tear out thy bowels by force at thy navel,
and flay thy back thoroughly with the scourge; and then, after binding
thee, fling thy carcase down among the benches of their ship to sell
to someone for heaving up stones, or else throw thee into a mill.
Cyclops: Oh, indeed! Be off then and sharpen my cleavers at once;
heap high the faggots and light them; for they shall be slain forthwith
and fill this maw of mine, what time I pick my feast hot from the
coals, waiting not for carvers, and fish up the rest from the cauldron
boiled and sodden; for I have had my fill of mountain-fare and sated
myself with banquets of lions and stags, but 'tis long I have been
without human flesh.