The Junior Classics, Volume 3: Tales from Greece and Rome

by Unknown

When Ulysses and his men had left the island of the lady Circe, a fresh breeze carried them merrily for several days over the sea. But after that the wind sank down, and there was a calm. The sails flapped against the mast, and they had to take them down and to row the ship on with their long oars. The sun was shining hot and fierce, and the men were very tired. There was not even a ripple upon the sea, and not a breath of air to cool their burning faces.

Ulysses remembered how the lady Circe had told him that he would have to pass near the Sirens’ island where the sea was always calm, and how she said that he must take care not to listen to the Sirens’ song, if he did not wish his ship to be dashed to pieces on the rocks. For, all day long, the Sirens lay on the seashore, or swam about in the calm water, singing so sweetly that no one who heard them could ever pass on without going to them: and whoever went to them was killed upon the rocks, for the Sirens were very beautiful and cruel, and they sang their soft enticing song, to draw the sailors into the shallow water, that their ships might be broken on the terrible reefs which lay hidden beneath the calm sea. When Circe told Ulysses of the Sirens’ rocks, she said that he must fill his sailors’ ears with wax, that they might not hear the song and be drawn in upon those terrible reefs. So, as the sun shone down fiercely on their heads, Ulysses thought they must be coming near to the island of the Sirens; and he took a large lump of wax and pressed it in his fingers till the hot sun made it soft and sticky. Then he called the men and told them he must fill their ears with wax, so they would not hear the song of the beautiful and cruel Sirens. But Ulysses was a very strange man, and liked to hear and see everything; so he said that he must hear the song himself, and that they must tie him to the mast for fear he should leap into the sea to swim to the Sirens’ land.

Then he filled the sailors’ ears with wax so that they could hear nothing; and they took a large rope and put it two or three times round the arms and waist of Ulysses; and then they sat down again on their benches, and began to row the ship on as quickly as they could.

Presently through the breathless air, and over the still and sleeping sea, there came a sound so sweet and soothing that Ulysses thought that he could no longer be living on the earth. Softer and sweeter it swelled upon the ear, and it seemed to speak to him of rest and peace, although he could hear no words; and he felt as if he could give up everything if only he might hear those sweet sounds for ever. So he made signs to the sailors to row on quicker; but presently the song rose in the sultry air, more sweet and gentle and enticing; and it seemed to say:

“O tired and weary sailors, why do you toil so hard to row your ship under this fierce hot sun? Come to us, and sit among these cool rocks: come and rest—come and rest.”

But he did not yet hear the words, for they were still too far from the Sirens’ rocks. Still, nearer and nearer the sailors rowed; and now he heard the words of their song, and he knew that they were speaking to himself, for they said:

“O, Ulysses, man of many toils and long wanderings, great glory of the Greeks, come to us and listen to our song. Every one who passes over the sea near our island stays to hear it, and forgets all his labor and all his trouble, and then goes away peaceful and happy. Come and rest, Ulysses, come and rest. We know all the great deeds you have done at Troy, and how you have been tossed by many storms, and suffered many sorrows sailing on the wide sea. But here the sea is always calm, and the sun cannot scorch you in the cool and pleasant caves where you shall hear us sing.”

Then Ulysses cried out to the sailors, “Let me go, let me go, they are calling me; do you not hear?” And he struggled with all his might to break the cords that bound him; but when they saw him trying to get free, they went and tied stronger cords round his arms and waist, and rowed on quicker than ever. And still Ulysses prayed them to set him free, that he might leap into the sea and swim to the Sirens’ caves. “I cannot stay,” he said; “they are calling me by my name; their song rises sweeter and clearer than ever; let us go, let us go.” And again he heard them singing.