
A second thought held me back
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οὐτάμεναι πρὸς στῆθος, ὅθι φρένες ἧπαρ ἔχουσι, χείρʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος· ἕτερος δέ με θυμὸς ἔρυκεν. αὐτοῦ γάρ κε καὶ ἄμμες ἀπωλόμεθʼ αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον· οὐ γάρ κεν δυνάμεσθα θυράων ὑψηλάων χερσὶν ἀπώσασθαι λίθον ὄβριμον, ὃν προσέθηκεν. ὣς τότε μὲν στενάχοντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.
to stab him in the chest, where the midriff holds the liver, feeling with my hand; but a second thought held me back. For there we too would have perished in sheer destruction: for we would not have been able to push away from the high doorway with our hands the mighty stone which he had set there. So then, groaning, we waited for the bright Dawn.
Sealed in the cave, Odysseus has watched the Cyclops eat two of his men and drink himself to sleep. He draws his sword and feels for the place to strike.
Sword already drawn, Odysseus checks himself. A second impulse reminds him of the trap: kill the sleeping Cyclops now and they die with him, sealed behind the door-stone no twenty men could shift. So they pass the night groaning and wait for the light.
This is μῆτις in its plainest form — the hero who wins by not striking. The reflex of an Achilles would be to drive the blade home; here the reflex is overruled by arithmetic. Homer marks the difference between the Iliad's fighter and this one in a single stayed hand: strength alone would have killed them all.
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