Cyclops

“What? How can you dance like that?

Do you think you’re mustered at Bacchus’ feast

And swaggering your sexy way with lyre music

To the halls of Althaea?”

As the Chorus of satyrs comes on stage, Silenus rebukes them for their joyful dancing, hinting at the stage action that would have unfolded before the original viewers of the play. Silenus evokes the contexts in which satyrs were usually seen by referring to “Bacchus’ feast” and “lyre music.” The satyrs, like Silenus, long for the ease of their lost life, and have a hard time adjusting to the harsh realities of the Cyclopes’ world.

“No Bacchus here! Not here the dance,

Or the women whirling the thyrsus,

Or the timbrels shaken,

Where the springs of water rill up!”

The Chorus of satyrs lament the life they have lost, remembering fondly the performing arts associated with Dionysus. These include women dancing with the thyrsus, a pinecone-tipped staff, and the timbrels, or tambourines—instruments of revelry. The vivid descriptive imagery of these lines connects the satyrs and Dionysus to a natural world in juxtaposition with the agrarian world of Polyphemus and the Cyclopes.

“ODYSSEUS. I am Odysseus of Ithaca, king of the Cephallenians

SILENUS. I’ve heard of you: a glib sharper, Sisyphus’ bastard.”

Odysseus introduces himself to Silenus, reprising his role in epics such as Homer’s Odyssey while stepping into the very different reality of satyr drama. Already Silenus places an emphasis on Odysseus’s use of language and deception when he characterizes him as a “glib sharper” and refers to him as the “bastard” of Sisyphus, a mythical figure known for deceiving the gods (in Homer, Odysseus is the son not of Sisyphus but of the hero Laertes).

“ODYSSEUS. Where are the walls and the city towers?

SILENUS. This is no city. No man inhabits here.

ODYSSEUS. Who does inhabit it? Wild animals?

SILENUS. The Cyclopes. They live in caves, not houses.

ODYSSEUS. Who governs them? Or do the people rule?

SILENUS. They are savages. There is no government.

ODYSSEUS. How do they live? Do they till the fields?

SILENUS. Their whole diet is milk, and cheese, and the meat of sheep.

ODYSSEUS. Do they grow grapes and make the vine give wine?

SILENUS. No. And the land is sullen. There is no dance.

ODYSSEUS. Are they hospitable to strangers here?

SILENUS. Strangers, they say, make the tastiest meal.”

This exchange between Odysseus and Silenus highlights the savagery of the island of the Cyclopes, a world without cities, laws, agriculture, or even houses. But while the Cyclopes do not think they need civilization, being well-served by their great size and strength, they are also unable to defend themselves from the dangers of civilization, represented by the cunning and crafty Odysseus who blinds the Cyclops and steals his property.

“The man who doesn’t like to drink is mad.

Why, when you’re drunk, you stand up stiff down here (gestures)

And then get yourself a fistful of breast

And browse on the soft field ready to your hands.

You dance, and good-bye to troubles.”

Silenus’s ode to drinking reflects the fun-loving nature of the satyrs, best known as mythical creatures in the entourage of Dionysus, the god of wine. There is a vulgar element to Silenus’s words (for instance, his reference to erections and sexual activity) that were characteristic of satyr plays. Indeed, the prominence of explicit sexual themes in satyr plays is one of the ways in which this genre was distinct from tragedy.

“Never. Why, Troy itself would groan aloud

If we ran from one man. Many’s the time

I stood off ten thousand Phrygians with my shield.

If die we must, then we must die with honor.

But if we live, we live with our old glory!”

Odysseus, true to his traditional status as an epic hero, hesitates to flee before the Cyclops, recalling boastfully and hyperbolically the numerous occasions on which he “stood off ten thousand Phrygians with my shield.” Odysseus echoes the epic values of dying “with honor” and living “with our old glory,” statements almost incongruous in the satyric context.

“Didn’t they know I am a god?

Didn’t they know my ancestors were gods?”

Polyphemus’s statement that he is a god puts his hubris on display. Polyphemus does not revere or fear the gods—in a later speech, he describes himself as more formidable than even Zeus—and consequently behaves in an impious way. The Cyclops’ bluster ultimately fails, as Odysseus triumphs over him.

“I swear, Cyclops, by your father Poseidon,

By Triton the great, I swear by Nereus,

By Calypso and by Nereus’ daughters,

By the holy waves and every species of fish,

I swear, dear master, lovely little Cyclops,

I did not try to sell your goods to strangers!

If I did, then let my dear children die for it.”

Silenus’s emphatic oath that he did not try to sell the Cyclops’ property to Odysseus is, of course, a false oath: This is exactly what Silenus tried to do. Silenus’s hyperbolic language highlights his cowardly and self-serving character, showing the lengths he will go to save himself.

“A god was responsible; don’t blame mortals.”

Odysseus blames the Trojan War on “a god,” a common trope in Greek literature, which tended to assign blame for the Trojan War on the meddling of Aphrodite (who caused Helen to fall in love with Paris). Odysseus’s words reflect the theme of the role of the divine in human life and the juxtaposition between the gods’ control over human affairs and human responsibility.

“Money’s the wise man’s religion, little man.

The rest is mere bluff and purple patches.”

The Cyclops flaunts his greed in the same breath as he expresses his impious disregard for the gods, describing money as “the wise man’s religion.” The Cyclops seems to think of himself as a god (he is the son of Poseidon) and boasts that the traditional gods of the Greek pantheon, including the supreme god Zeus, have no power over him. His destruction at the end of the play can thus almost be seen as a divinely sanctioned punishment for his impiety.

“And as for sacrifices, I make mine,

Not to some other gods, but to the greatest

Of all: me and my belly! To eat, to drink

From day to day, to have no worries—

That’s the real Zeus for your man of sense!”

Polyphemus’s religion is centered on himself and his belly. The greedy Cyclops calls eating and drinking the only sacrifices he needs to make—a blasphemous reference to the traditional sacrifices demanded by ancient Greek religion—reaffirming his neglect of Zeus and the other gods. He thus construes “the real Zeus” as the embodiment of his “religion” of self-gratification.

“Gods! Have I escaped our hardships at Troy

And on the seas only to be cast up

And wrecked on the reef of this savage heart?

O Pallas, lady, daughter of Zeus, now

If ever, help me! Worse than war at Troy,

I have come to my danger’s deepest place.

O Zeus, god of strangers, look down on me

From where you sit, throned among the bright stars!

If you do not look down upon me now,

You are no Zeus, but a nothing at all!”1. “Gods! Have I escaped our hardships at Troy

And on the seas only to be cast up

And wrecked on the reef of this savage heart?

O Pallas, lady, daughter of Zeus, now

If ever, help me! Worse than war at Troy,

I have come to my danger’s deepest place.

O Zeus, god of strangers, look down on me

From where you sit, throned among the bright stars!

If you do not look down upon me now,

You are no Zeus, but a nothing at all!”

Odysseus asks the gods to help him get away from the Cyclops, singling out Athena, traditionally his patron god in epic, and Zeus, the supreme god. This is a dubious prayer, though, with Odysseus concluding that the gods are “nothing at all” if they do not help him (the prayers he makes later in the play follows the same pattern). Odysseus is thus not necessarily any more pious than the Cyclops, who simply denies the ability of the gods to help him or to harm him.

“Unbelievable horrors, the kind of things

Men hear about in myths, not in real life!”

Odysseus speaks with horror of the scene he has just witnessed, in which Polyphemus killed, cooked, and devoured two of his men. These lines have a distinctly metaliterary or metafictional quality that is characteristic of Euripides, for when Odysseus describes the horrors he has seen as “the kind of things / Men hear about in myths,” he evokes his own “myth” and self-reflexively calls our attention to his role as a fictional character not only in Euripides’ satyr play but also in earlier literary works such as Homer’s Odyssey.

“Be quiet now. You know my stratagem.

When I give the word, obey your leaders.

I refuse to save myself and leave my men

Trapped inside. I could, of course, escape:

Here I am, outside. But I have no right

To abandon my crew and save myself alone.”

Odysseus again exhibits the qualities of an epic hero when he proclaims his refusal to abandon his men and states that he has “no right” to rescue himself alone, even when he can do so easily enough (a declaration that would have come across as ironic to Euripides’s audiences, who would have been familiar enough with the Odyssey to know that saving only himself and dooming his men is exactly Odysseus’s fate). These lines also explain one notable difference between Euripides’s Cyclops and Book 9 of Homer’s Odyssey, where Odysseus and his men are trapped in the cave by a giant boulder that the Cyclops rolls in front of the door.

“Happy the man who cries ‘Euhoi!’

Just itching to make merry,

For whom the wine keeps flowing,

Whose arms are open to his friend!”

The Chorus praises the happiness they associate with drinking and with the worship of their god Dionysus, voicing the ritual Dionysian cry of “Euhoi.” To the Chorus of satyrs, drinking is not just pleasure but also a form of worship, honoring the god they revere above all others. This devotional attitude is completely absent from the Cyclops’ gluttonous and even impious abuse of wine.

“Mamama. Am I crammed with wine!

How I love the fun of a feast!”

The Cyclops comically exchanges verses with the Chorus, praising the drink of wine to which he has just been introduced. The Cyclops’ fondness for wine is very characteristic of his greedy and gluttonous personality: He has none of the restraint practiced by mortals like Odysseus nor any of the reverence for Dionysus observed by the satyrs, but delights in being “crammed” with the pleasant drink and indulging his appetite to excess.

“CYCLOPS. Who is this Bacchus? Worshipped as a god?

ODYSSEUS. Best of all in blessing the lives of men.

CYCLOPS. At least he makes very tasty belching.

ODYSSEUS. That’s the kind of god he is: hurts no one.

CYCLOPS. How can a god bear to live in a flask?

ODYSSEUS. Wherever you put him, he’s quite content.

CYCLOPS. Gods shouldn’t clothe themselves in animal skins.”

In this line-for-line exchange between Odysseus and the Cyclops (a stylistic feature conventionally known as “stichomythia”), Odysseus tries unsuccessfully to explain to the Cyclops the nature of Dionysus, the god of wine. But the Cyclops, true to his character, is unable to conceive of gods he cannot see or master, and simply sees Dionysus as a rather undignified god who lives in a wine flask and “makes very tasty belching.”

“CYCLOPS. What are you doing? Drinking on the sly?

SILENUS. The wine kissed me—for my beautiful eyes.

CYCLOPS. Watch out. You love the wine; it does not love you.”

The Cyclops catches Silenus trying to sneak a drink of the wine and reprimands him, while Silenus, true to his shifty character, tries (rather ineptly) to play off his misbehavior. Silenus’s role as a servant of Dionysus gives him a propensity to love wine as Dionysus’s beverage. For the Cyclops, however, the wine is simply his property (like everything else that he can capture with his strength).

“CYCLOPS. You there, stranger, tell me what your name is.

ODYSSEUS. Nobody is my name. But how will you reward me?

CYCLOPS. I will eat you the last of all your crew.”

This trick is taken from the Odyssey, Euripides’s principal source, where Odysseus tells the Cyclops that his name is “Nobody” so that the other Cyclopes will dismiss Polyphemus when he complains about “Nobody” has done. The plan makes less sense in the context of Euripides’s play, though, as it has already been revealed that Odysseus is from Ithaca and that he is coming from Troy, and as the Cyclops later only protests his mistreatment to the satyrs (who know Odysseus’s identity and who do not represent a threat to him in any case) rather than to the other Cyclopes. This tension between the play and its source material contributes to the incongruous tone cultivated by Euripides.

“Whoosh! I can scarcely swim out of this flood.

Pure pleasure! Ohhh. Earth and sky whirling around,

All jumbled up together! Look: I can see

The throne of Zeus and the holy glory

Of the gods.”

As the Cyclops become more and more inebriated, he feels the world spinning around him. He even think he sees the gods in what sounds almost like an epiphany, that is, a divine revelation. But the Cyclops, characteristically, misinterprets his epiphany, and concludes that he is Zeus and Silenus his Ganymede: The Cyclops’ notion that he is a god himself thus goes unchallenged.

“O Hephaestus, ruler over Etna,

Free yourself from this vile neighbor of yours!

Sear out his bright eye at one blow! O Sleep,

Child of black Night, leap with all your might

On this god-detested beast! And do not,

After our glorious trials at Troy,

Betray Odysseus and his crew to death

From a man who cares for neither man nor god.

If you do, we will make a goddess of Chance,

And count her higher than all the other gods!”

Odysseus makes another prayer as he prepares to sear out the Cyclops’ eye, this time invoking Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship who would have been the creature’s “neighbor” because his workshop was said to have been in Mount Etna in Sicily. But Odysseus’s prayer, like his earlier prayers, comes across as self-righteous and threatening, as he declares that he will stop believing in Hephaestus if the god does not help him in his just cause.

“We’ll do that—and leave it to others to run the risks.

We’ll scorch the Cyclops—but only with our singing.”

The satyrs shrug off Odysseus’s criticism of their cowardice when it is time to blind the Cyclops: As elsewhere in the play, we find that the satyrs (like Silenus) are not quite equal to their promises or boasts. They retreat to the realm of song and dance, declaring that they will scorch the Cyclops “only with our singing,” a reflection of their accustomed role as joyous companions of Dionysus, the god of wine.

“Odysseus: the name my father gave me.

You have had to pay for your unholy meal.

I would have done wrong to have fired Troy

But not revenge the murder of my men.”

Odysseus finally reveals his identity to the Cyclops, proudly citing his desire for revenge as the reason he blinded the Cyclops. Odysseus’s boastful attitude reflects something reckless in his character, as it would have been safer to slip away while the Cyclops was distracted. But Odysseus is evidently willing to sacrifice safety for recognition.