Cyclops
Thence
we sailed on with aching hearts, and came to the land of the Cyclops, a
rude and lawless folk, who, trusting to the immortal gods, plant with
their hands no plant, nor ever plough.
“Cyclops, you asked
my noble name, and I will tell it; but do you give the stranger’s gift,
just as you promised. My name is No Man. No Man I am called by mother,
father, and by all my comrades.”
We seized
the fire-pointed stake and whirled it in his eye. Blood bubbled round
the heated thing. The vapor singed off all the lids around the eye, and
even the brows, as the ball burned and its roots crackled in the flame.
The Odyssey, Book IX
Homer