Scylla and Charybdis

BOOK XII

Circe: Once your crew has rowed past the Sirens, I shall not speak in detail about which side is the course you will follow, but self must reflect on the two ways before self. For, on the one hand, there is an overhanging precipice with rocks at the base against which the dark-eyed waves of Amphitrite beat with terrifying fury. The blessed Gods call these rocks the Planctae [Wandering Rocks]. Those with wings cannot pass this way; even the doves that carry ambrosia to Father Zeus are fearful because the abrupt rocks will always snatch away one of them, and Zeus has to send another to make up the number. And no ship that has yet arrived at these rocks has ever made it through because the planks from ships with the bodies of men are turned around in the confusion of the sea and suffer the expulsion of fire. One vessel alone has passed through, the famous Argo, on her voyage from the kingdom of Aeetes, and even the waves would have quickly smashed her against the great rocks had not Hera sent her through, for Jason was dear to her.

Now, on the other hand, there is a path that leads to two precipices. One of which reaches into vast heaven, its sharp peak disappears in dark clouds which never disperse, and clear skies are never present around the peak, even in summer or harvest time. No mortal, even with twenty hands and feet, could climb it and reach the summit because the rock is smooth as though it had been polished. And in the middle of the precipice is a large shadowy cave facing the West, and looking towards Erebus, in the direction that you, O glorious Odysseus, shall steer your hollow ship. Not even the mightiest of men could shoot an arrow into that lofty cave within which Scylla dwells, with her whining noise that you would think, is a newborn whelp. Although her voice is of a newborn whelp, self is a harmful monster, and no one, not even a God, would want to see her. She has twelve distorted feet and six prodigious necks, and on each one, an awful head with three rows of closely set teeth in each, full of death. Sitting up to her middle in the hollow of the shadowy cave, she extends her head out and peers all around the rock, eagerly fishing for dolphins, dogfish and whatever greater creature she can easily catch, which deep-moaning Amphitrite nurtures in uncountable multitudes. No sailor or ship has ever escaped unharmed because, with each extended head, she snatches a man.

But, the other precipice, Odysseus, is lower, and the two are so close together you could shoot an arrow from one over to the other. On the lower precipice, there grows a great fig tree with rich foliage, and beneath this, circling Charybdis sucks down the black water. Three times a day, she discharges her waters, and three times per day, she guzzles them down again. Ensure you are not there when she is guzzling them down, for if you are, no one could save you from destruction, not even Poseidon, the earth-shaker. Instead, draw very close to Scylla's precipice and drive your ship past as quickly as possible, for it is better to be deprived of six crew than all your men.

Odysseus: Come, O Goddess, tell me if there is truly any way of escaping from the pull of Charybids and, at the same time, keeping Scylla from harming my crew.

The beautiful goddess answered: Impulsive man, your heart is fixed on strife and toil. Will you not submit, even to the immortal gods? Scylla is not mortal, but she is an immortal instrument of torture. There is no way to defend self; running from her as fast as you can is best. For if you attempt to arm self near the precipice, I fear she may again extend forth and attack you with her many heads and seize as many of your crew as before. No, row past with all your might and call upon Crataeis, the mother of Scylla, who bore her to bring misery upon mortals. She will prevent Scylla from extending forth her necks again. And then you will reach the Island of Thrinacia.

Homer, The Odyssey

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