"‘So far so good,’ said
she, when I had ended my story, ‘and now pay attention to what I
am about to tell you - heaven itself, indeed, will recall it to your
recollection. First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who
come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the
singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him
home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death
with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead
men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off
them. Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men's ears
with wax that none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen
yourself, for you may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on
a cross-piece half way up the mast, and they must lash the
rope's ends to the mast itself, that you may have the pleasure
of listening. If you beg and pray the men to unloose you, then they
must bind you faster.
"‘When your crew have taken
you past these Sirens, I cannot give you coherent directions as to
which of two courses you are to take; I will lay the two alternatives
before you, and you must consider them for yourself. On the one hand
there are some overhanging rocks against which the seething deep
waves of Amphitrite beat with terrific fury; the blessed gods call
these rocks the Wanderers. Here not even a bird may pass, no, not
even the timid doves that bring ambrosia to Father Zeus, but the
sheer rock always carries off one of them, and Father Zeus has to
send another to make up their number; no ship that ever yet came to
these rocks has got away again, but the waves and whirlwinds of fire
are freighted with wreckage and with the bodies of dead men. The only
vessel that ever sailed and got through, was the famous Argo on her
way from the house of Aietes, and she too would have gone against
these great rocks, only that Hera piloted her past them for the love
she bore to Jason.
"‘Of these two rocks the one
reaches heaven and its peak is lost in a dark cloud. This never
leaves it, so that the top is never clear not even in summer and
early autumn. No man though he had twenty hands and twenty feet could
get a foothold on it and climb it, for it runs sheer up, as smooth as
though it had been polished. In the middle of it there is a large
cavern, looking West and turned towards Erebus; you must take your
ship this way, but the cave is so high up that not even the stoutest
archer could send an arrow into it. Inside it Scylla sits and yelps
with a voice that you might take to be that of a young hound, but in
truth she is a dreadful monster and no one - not even a god - could
face her without being terror-struck. She has twelve misshapen feet,
and six necks of the most prodigious length; and at the end of each
neck she has a frightful head with three rows of teeth in each, all
set very close together, so that they would crunch any one to death
in a moment, and she sits deep within her shady cell thrusting out
her heads and peering all round the rock, fishing for dolphins or
dogfish or any larger monster that she can catch, of the thousands
with which Amphitrite teems. No ship ever yet got past her without
losing some men, for she shoots out all her heads at once, and
carries off a man in each mouth.
"‘You will find the other
rocks lie lower, but they are so close together that there is not
more than a bowshot between them. [A large fig tree in full leaf
grows upon it], and under it lies the sucking whirlpool of
Charybdis. Three times in the day does she vomit forth her waters,
and three times she sucks them down again; see that you be not there
when she is sucking, for if you are, Poseidon himself could not save
you; you must hug the Scylla side and drive ship by as fast as you
can, for you had better lose six men than your whole
crew.’
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