They had not sailed past a hundred leagues before the breeze which Circe
had lent them suddenly stopped. It was stricken dead. All the sea lay in
prostrate slumber. Not a gasp of air could be felt. The ship stood still.
Ulysses guessed that the island of the Sirens was not far off, and that
they had charmed the air so with their devilish singing. Therefore he made
him cakes of wax, as Circe had instructed him, and stopped the ears of his
men with them; then causing himself to be bound hand and foot, he
commanded the rowers to ply their oars and row as fast as speed could
carry them past that fatal shore. They soon came within sight of the
Sirens, who sang in Ulysses's hearing:
Come here, thou, worthy of a world of praise,
That dost so high the Grecian glory raise,
Ulysses' stay thy ship, and that song hear
That none pass'd ever, but it bent his ear,
But left him ravish'd, and instructed more
By us than any ever heard before.
For we know all things, whatsoever were
In wide Troy labor'd, whatsoever there
The Grecians and the Trojans both sustain'd,
By those high issues that the gods ordain'd;
And whatsoever all the earth can show
To inform a knowledge of desert, we know.
These were the words, but the celestial harmony of the voices which sang
them no tongue can describe: it took the ear of Ulysses with ravishment.
He would have broken his bonds to rush after them; and threatened, wept,
sued, entreated, commanded, crying out with tears and passionate
imprecations, conjuring his men by all the ties of perils past which they
had endured in common, by fellowship and love, and the authority which he
retained among them, to let him loose; but at no rate would they obey him.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49