Circe Warns of the Sirens (Homer’s The Odyssey, Book 12 – Part 2)

So spake she, and our lordly souls consented thereto.

Thus for that time we sat the livelong day, until the going down of the sun, feasting on abundant flesh and on sweet wine.

Now when the sun sank and darkness came on, my company laid them to rest by the hawsers of the ship.

Then she took me by the hand and led me apart from my dear company, and made me to sit down and laid herself at my feet, and asked all my tale.

And I told her all in order duly.

Then at the last the Lady Circe spake unto me, saying, "Even so, now all these things have an end.

Do thou then hearken even as I tell thee, and the god himself shall bring it back to thy mind.

To the Sirens first shalt thou come, who bewitch all men, whosoever shall come to them.

Whoso draws nigh them unwittingly and hears the sound of the Siren's voice, never doth he see wife or babe stand by him on his return, nor have they joy at his coming.

But the Sirens enchant him with their clear song, sitting in the meadow, and all about is a great heap of bones of men, corrupt in death, and round the bones the skin is wasting.

But do thou drive thy ship past, and knead honey-sweet wax, and anoint therewith the ears of thy company, lest any of the rest hear the song.

But if thou thyself art minded to hear, let them bind thee in the swift ship hand and foot, upright in the masthead, and from the mast let the rope's end be tied, that with delight thou mayest hear the voice of the Sirens.

And if thou shalt beseech thy company, and bid them to loose thee, then let them bind thee with yet more bonds.

But when thy friends have driven thy ship past these, I will not tell thee fully which path shall thenceforth be thine.

But do thou thyself consider it, and I will speak to thee of either way.

On the one side there are beetling rocks, and against them the great wave roars of dark-eyed Amphitrite.

These, you must know, are they the blessed gods call the Rocks Wandering.

By this way even winged things may never pass.

Nay, not even the cowering doves that bear ambrosia to Father Zeus.

But the sheer rock evermore takes away one even of these, and the Father sends in another to make up the tale.

Thereby no ship of men ever escapes that comes thither.

But the planks of ships and the bodies of men confusedly are tossed by the waves of the sea and the storms of ruinous fire.

One ship only of all that fare by sea hath passed that way, even Argo, that is in all men's minds on her voyage from Aeetes.

And even her the wave would lightly have cast thereupon the mighty rocks.

But Hera sent her by her love of Jason." Today we are getting Circe putting things in higher definition for Odysseus.