| |
| Siren. | COME, 1 worthy Greek! Ulysses, come, | |
| Possess these shores with me: | |
| The winds and seas are troublesome, | |
| And here we may be free. | |
| Here may we sit and view their toil | 5 |
| That travail in the deep, | |
| And joy the day in mirth the while, | |
| And spend the night in sleep. | |
| |
| Ulysses. | Fair Nymph, if fame or honour were | |
| To be attain’d with ease, | 10 |
| Then would I come and rest with thee, | |
| And leave such toils as these. | |
| But here it dwells, and here must I | |
| With danger seek it forth: | |
| To spend the time luxuriously | 15 |
| Becomes not men of worth. | |
| |
| Siren. | Ulysses, O be not deceived | |
| With that unreal name; | |
| This honour is a thing conceived, | |
| And rests on others’ fame: | 20 |
| Begotten only to molest | |
| Our peace, and to beguile | |
| The best thing of our life—our rest, | |
| And give us up to toil. | |
| |
| Ulysses. | Delicious Nymph, suppose there were | 25 |
| No honour nor report, | |
| Yet manliness would scorn to wear | |
| The time in idle sport: | |
| For toil doth give a better touch | |
| To make us feel our joy, | 30 |
| And ease finds tediousness as much | |
| As labour yields annoy. | |
| |
| Siren. | Then pleasure likewise seems the shore | |
| Whereto tends all your toil, | |
| Which you forego to make it more, | 35 |
| And perish oft the while. | |
| Who may disport them diversely | |
| Find never tedious day, | |
| And ease may have variety | |
| As well as action may. | 40 |
| |
| Ulysses. | But natures of the noblest frame | |
| These toils and dangers please; | |
| And they take comfort in the same | |
| As much as you in ease; | |
| And with the thought of actions past | 45 |
| Are recreated still: | |
| When Pleasure leaves a touch at last | |
| To show that it was ill. | |
| |
| Siren. | That doth Opinion only cause | |
| That’s out of Custom bred, | 50 |
| Which makes us many other laws | |
| Than ever Nature did. | |
| No widows wail for our delights, | |
| Our sports are without blood; | |
| The world we see by warlike wights | 55 |
| Receives more hurt than good. | |
| |
| Ulysses. | But yet the state of things require | |
| These motions of unrest; | |
| And these great Spirits of high desire | |
| Seem born to turn them best: | 60 |
| To purge the mischiefs that increase | |
| And all good order mar: | |
| For oft we see a wicked peace | |
| To be well changed for war. | |
| |
| Siren. | Well, well, Ulysses, then I see | 65 |
| I shall not have thee here: | |
| And therefore I will come to thee, | |
| And take my fortune there. | |
| I must be won, that cannot win, | |
| Yet lost were I not won; | 70 |
| For beauty hath created been | |
| T’ undo, or be undone. | |
