Now with a sharp sword I sliced an ample wheel of beeswax
down into pieces, kneaded them in my two strong hands
and the wax soon grew soft, worked by my strength
and Helios’ burning rays, the sun at high noon,
and I stopped the ears of my comrades one by one.
They bound me hand and foot in the tight ship –
erect at the mast-block, lashed by ropes to the mast –
and rowed and churned the whitecaps stroke on stroke.
We were just offshore as far as a man’s shout can carry,
scudding close, when the Sirens sensed at once a ship
was racing past and burst into their high, thrilling song.
– Homer
The Odyssey, Book 12, lines 189-199. Odysseus displays his cunning once again when it is time to pass the Sirens. To protect against their irresistible song that lures sailors to their doom, he plugs the crewmen’s ears with beeswax. Then he instructs the crew to bind him with ropes to the mast, so he can listen to the Sirens and not endangering his ship or those on it. There is an element of pride in Odysseus’ decision to leave his ears unplugged. He wants the bragging rights of being the first person to hear the Sirens and live.