little, paltry wretch." After a pause he spoke again, thinking to
fight that man of many wiles with his own weapons. "Come hither,
Odysseus," he said, softening his big voice as well as he could, "that
I may entertain thee with loving-kindness; and afterwards I will pray
to Poseidon, whose son I am, to send a fair breeze for thy homeward
voyage. And he also shall heal my hurt, and give me back my sight."

Odysseus laughed aloud at the poor monster's simplicity, whereupon
Polyphemus lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed to his sire, the
lord Poseidon: "Hear me, thou who holdest the earth in thine arms, if
I am indeed thy son. Grant me that Odysseus may never reach his home,
or if that is fixed beyond repeal, let him come home in evil plight,
with the loss of all his men, on a strange ship, to a house of
woe."[1]

[Footnote 1: Compare Dido's curse ("Stories from the Æneid," p. 84).]

Such was the curse of Polyphemus, to be fulfilled, as we shall see, to
the letter. And having uttered it he flung another rock, which fell
just short of the vessel's stern, and raised a wave which washed her
towards the island. Soon they reached the harbour where the rest of
the fleet lay moored. Joyful were the greetings of their comrades, who
had given them up for lost; and a merry feast they made on the flesh
of the fat sheep, though their mirth was checkered by sadness when
they thought of the brave six who had come to so horrible an end in
the Cyclops' cave.

After leaving the land of the Cyclopes they came next to the Æolian
island, where dwelt Æolus with his wife and twelve sons and daughters.
The island floated on the sea, and all around it tall cliffs ran sheer