💡 This is a chapter from The Wanderings of Odysseus, by C. Witt & F. Younghusband ← Go there to read the full book free online; it is also available in paperback and Kindle editions.
With a favorable wind, the ship made good speed on her return journey and reached the island of Circe early the next day. Odysseus lost no time in fetching the corpse of Elpenor from the palace and burying it according to his wishes on a projecting point of land that stretched out some way into the sea. Circe had sent down food and wine to the shore for her guests, and she herself came also and sat with Odysseus in a cave nearby, whilst his companions feasted on the beach.
Odysseus related to her all that he had heard from Tiresias, and then she said, “Now will I tell thee of the perils ye will have to pass through before ye reach the island of Thrinacia. First are the Sirens, who allure all men by their magic song, in order that they may devour them. They sit singing in a pleasant meadow, but all around them lie the bleached bones of those whom they have enticed to their ruin.”
Circe told Odysseus how to protect his companions from hearing the song, and how he might hear it himself without danger, and then she continued, “After this, ye have a choice of two ways. One of them leads through the Wandering Rocks, and whoever goes there is lost without remedy, for they rush hither and thither with the utmost speed, making great billows as they go, and everything that comes in their way is dashed to pieces or else destroyed by the flames that break from them. No bird even has ever flown past them uninjured; the very doves that bring to Father Zeus the ambrosia, the food of the gods, never reach Mount Olympus without leaving one of their number behind, and, in order to keep it complete, Zeus has to create a fresh dove every time. Neither has any ship ever passed them, excepting one — that was the Argo, which was enabled to escape, only by the help of Hera.
“The other way leads between the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis. One of these rocks rises straight up from the sea, and its top is always covered with clouds. About halfway up is a deep cavern, the abode of the monster Scylla. Her voice sounds like that of a young dog, but she has a body of enormous size. Far inside the cave she hides her twelve feet, and out of it she stretches her six necks. At the end of each neck is a horrible head with three rows of murderous teeth, and these heads she bends down into the water to fish for dolphins, seadogs, and whatever else she can find in the sea. No ship can go by without her taking toll, for, with each of her six heads, she seizes one of the men as they row past her.
“Not more than an arrow shot from Scylla is the other, lower rock —marked by a wild fig tree that grows upon it— where, three times a day, Charybdis sucks in the sea and spits it out again. Equally doomed to destruction is the ship that passes Charybdis, whether it goes by at the time of the sucking-in, or at the time of the spitting-out. When she draws in the water, it whirls in wild tumult down her throat, making the whole rock tremble and quake, until at last all the water around has been taken in, and the bottom of the sea is left quite bare and exposed to view. No less terrible is the moment when the water is cast forth again, for then it bubbles up as if it were being boiled furiously in a gigantic cauldron; the whole sea is covered with foam and froth and rushes away from the rock with irresistible force. Therefore ye must sail right under Scylla, for it is better that six men should perish than that the whole crew should be lost, and the ship also.”
Here Odysseus interrupted the goddess. “But can I not avoid Charybdis,” said he, “and at the same time keep off Scylla with my sword and spear?”
“Thou art but a fool,” replied Circe, smiling, “who talkest of fighting with the immortals! The monster Scylla cannot die, and no weapon can pierce her skin. By flight and speed alone can ye hope, any of you, to escape her. Should ye delay but a moment, her six heads would be thrust forth a second time, and ye would lose six more of your comrades.”
Early the next morning, the ship sped on its way, again assisted by a favorable wind. But when the rocks of the Sirens came into view, the wind fell, and they had to take to the oars. Circe had given to Odysseus a great cake of wax, which he now divided with his sword into a number of pieces, and with it plastered up the ears of all his companions. He had previously told them that, as soon as this was done, they must bind him with a strong cord to the mast of the ship, and that, even if he entreated them to unloose him, they were to take no notice, but only to bind him with a second and still stronger cord.
Soon they were near enough to the rocks of the Sirens for Odysseus to hear their song — and charming and sweet and innocent beyond all telling it sounded in his ears. This was what they sang: “Renowned Odysseus, noble hero, stop thy ship and listen to our song! Never before thee has any man failed to stop and listen to us, and much have we taught to many a one, of which he was formerly in ignorance. We know all that has befallen both Greeks and Trojans by the will of the gods — yea, we know everything that has ever happened in the wide world.”
The song of the Sirens was so enchanting that it went to the heart of Odysseus; he began to think that all Circe had told him of their treachery must be a mistake and a delusion, and nothing did he desire more ardently than to jump from the ship into the sea and swim nearer to the nymphs, that he might hear their song over and over again. He was now full of regret at having caused himself to be bound, and with imploring gestures he made signs to his companions to set him at liberty, but two of them fastened the second rope around him, tied still more securely than the first, and the others rowed on as fast as they could. Odysseus was greatly enraged, but, when they had gone so far that the song could no longer be heard, he rejoiced that they had disobeyed him. It was not until they were at a safe distance from the Sirens that they took the wax from their ears and unbound Odysseus.