Apollonius Rhodius
(fl. 3rd Century B.C.)
THE ARGONAUTICA
Originally written in Ancient Greek sometime in the 3rd Century B.C. by the Alexandrian
poet Apollonius Rhodius (“Apollonius the Rhodian”).
Translation by R.C. Seaton, 1912.
The text of this edition is based on that published as “Apollonius Rhodius: Argonautica”,
edited and translated by R.C. Seaton (Harvard University Press, Cambridge MA, 1912)
BOOK III
(ll. 1-5) Come now, Erato, stand by my side, and say next how Jason brought back
the fleece to Iolcus aided by the love of Medea. For thou sharest the power of Cypris,
and by thy love-cares dost charm unwedded maidens; wherefore to thee too is attached
a name that tells of love.
(ll. 6-10) Thus the heroes, unobserved, were waiting in ambush amid the thick
reed-beds; but Hera and Athena took note of them, and, apart from Zeus and the other
immortals, entered a chamber and took counsel together; and Hera first made trial
of Athena:
(ll. 11-16) “Do thou now first, daughter of Zeus, give advice. What must be done?
Wilt thou devise some scheme whereby they may seize the golden fleece of Aeetes
and bear it to Hellas, or can they deceive the king with soft words and so work
persuasion? Of a truth he is terribly overweening. Still it is right to shrink from
no endeavour.”
(ll. 17-21) Thus she spake, and at once Athena addressed her: “I too was pondering
such thoughts in my heart, Hera, when thou didst ask me outright. But not yet do
I think that I have conceived a scheme to aid the courage of the heroes, though
I have balanced many plans.”
(ll. 22-29) She ended, and the goddesses fixed their eyes on the ground at their
feet, brooding apart; and straightway Hera was the first to speak her thought: “Come,
let us go to Cypris; let both of us accost her and urge her to bid her son (if only
he will obey) speed his shaft at the daughter of Aeetes, the enchantress, and charm
her with love for Jason. And I deem that by her device he will bring back the fleece
to Hellas.”
(ll. 30-31) Thus she spake, and the prudent plan pleased Athena, and she addressed
her in reply with gentle words:
(ll. 32-35) “Hera, my father begat me to be a stranger to the darts of love,
nor do I know any charm to work desire. But if the word pleases thee, surely I will
follow; but thou must speak when we meet her.”
(ll. 36-51) So she said, and starting forth they came to the mighty palace of
Cypris, which her husband, the halt-footed god, had built for her when first he
brought her from Zeus to be his wife. And entering the court they stood beneath
the gallery of the chamber where the goddess prepared the couch of Hephaestus. But
he had gone early to his forge and anvils to a broad cavern in a floating island
where with the blast of flame he wrought all manner of curious work; and she all
alone was sitting within, on an inlaid seat facing the door. And her white shoulders
on each side were covered with the mantle of her hair and she was parting it with
a golden comb and about to braid up the long tresses; but when she saw the goddesses
before her, she stayed and called them within, and rose from her seat and placed
them on couches. Then she herself sat down, and with her hands gathered up the locks
still uncombed. And smiling she addressed them with crafty words:
(ll. 52-54) “Good friends, what intent, what occasion brings you here after so
long? Why have ye come, not too frequent visitors before, chief among goddesses
that ye are?”
(ll. 55-75) And to her Hera replied: “Thou dost mock us, but our hearts are stirred
with calamity. For already on the river Phasis the son of Aeson moors his ship,
he and his comrades in quest of the fleece. For all their sakes we fear terribly
(for the task is nigh at hand) but most for Aeson’s son. Him will I deliver, though
he sail even to Hades to free Ixion below from his brazen chains, as far as strength
lies in my limbs, so that Pelias may not mock at having escaped an evil doom —
Pelias who left me unhonoured with sacrifice. Moreover Jason was greatly loved by
me before, ever since at the mouth of Anaurus in flood, as I was making trial of
men’s righteousness, he met me on his return from the chase; and all the mountains
and long ridged peaks were sprinkled with snow, and from them the torrents rolling
down were rushing with a roar. And he took pity on me in the likeness of an old
crone, and raising me on his shoulders himself bore me through the headlong tide.
So he is honoured by me unceasingly; nor will Pelias pay the penalty of his outrage,
unless thou wilt grant Jason his return.”
(ll. 76-82) Thus she spake, and speechlessness seized Cypris. And beholding Hera
supplicating her she felt awe, and then addressed her with friendly words: “Dread
goddess, may no viler thing than Cypris ever be found, if I disregard thy eager
desire in word or deed, whatever my weak arms can effect; and let there be no favour
in return.”
(ll. 83-89) She spake, and Hera again addressed her with prudence: “It is not
in need of might or of strength that we have come. But just quietly bid thy boy
charm Aeetes’ daughter with love for Jason. For if she will aid him with her kindly
counsel, easily do I think he will win the fleece of gold and return to Iolcus,
for she is full of wiles.”
(ll. 90-99) Thus she spake, and Cypris addressed them both: “Hera and Athena,
he will obey you rather than me. For unabashed though he is, there will be some
slight shame in his eyes before you; but he has no respect for me, but ever slights
me in contentious mood. And, overborne by his naughtiness, I purpose to break his
ill-sounding arrows and his bow in his very sight. For in his anger he has threatened
that if I shall not keep my hands off him while he still masters his temper, I shall
have cause to blame myself thereafter.”
(ll. 100-105) So she spake, and the goddesses smiled and looked at each other.
But Cypris again spoke, vexed at heart: “To others my sorrows are a jest; nor ought
I to tell them to all; I know them too well myself. But now, since this pleases
you both, I will make the attempt and coax him, and he will not say me nay.”
(ll. 106-110) Thus she spake, and Hera took her slender hand and gently smiling,
replied: “Perform this task, Cytherea, straightway, as thou sayest; and be not angry
or contend with thy boy; he will cease hereafter to vex thee.”
(ll. 111-128) She spake, and left her seat, and Athena accompanied her and they
went forth both hastening back. And Cypris went on her way through the glens of
Olympus to find her boy. And she found him apart, in the blooming orchard of Zeus,
not alone, but with him Ganymedes, whom once Zeus had set to dwell among the immortal
gods, being enamoured of his beauty. And they were playing for golden dice, as boys
in one house are wont to do. And already greedy Eros was holding the palm of his
left hand quite full of them under his breast, standing upright; and on the bloom
of his cheeks a sweet blush was glowing. But the other sat crouching hard by, silent
and downcast, and he had two dice left which he threw one after the other, and was
angered by the loud laughter of Eros. And lo, losing them straightway with the former,
he went off empty handed, helpless, and noticed not the approach of Cypris. And
she stood before her boy, and laying her hand on his lips, addressed him:
(ll. 129-144) “Why dost thou smile in triumph, unutterable rogue? Hast thou cheated
him thus, and unjustly overcome the innocent child? Come, be ready to perform for
me the task I will tell thee of, and I will give thee Zeus’ all-beauteous plaything
— the one which his dear nurse Adrasteia made for him, while he still lived a child,
with childish ways, in the Idaean cave — a well-rounded ball; no better toy wilt
thou get from the hands of Hephaestus. All of gold are its zones, and round each
double seams run in a circle; but the stitches are hidden, and a dark blue spiral
overlays them all. But if thou shouldst cast it with thy hands, lo, like a star,
it sends a flaming track through the sky. This I will give thee; and do thou strike
with thy shaft and charm the daughter of Aeetes with love for Jason; and let there
be no loitering. For then my thanks would be the slighter.”
(ll. 145-150) Thus she spake, and welcome were her words to the listening boy.
And he threw down all his toys, and eagerly seizing her robe on this side and on
that, clung to the goddess. And he implored her to bestow the gift at once; but
she, facing him with kindly words, touched his cheeks, kissed him and drew him to
her, and replied with a smile:
(ll. 151-153) “Be witness now thy dear head and mine, that surely I will give
thee the gift and deceive thee not, if thou wilt strike with thy shaft Aeetes’ daughter.”
(ll. 154-166) She spoke, and he gathered up his dice, and having well counted
them all threw them into his mother’s gleaming lap. And straightway with golden
baldric he slung round him his quiver from where it leant against a tree-trunk,
and took up his curved bow. And he fared forth through the fruitful orchard of the
palace of Zeus. Then he passed through the gates of Olympus high in air; hence is
a downward path from heaven; and the twin poles rear aloft steep mountain tops the
highest crests of earth, where the risen sun grows ruddy with his first beams. And
beneath him there appeared now the life-giving earth and cities of men and sacred
streams of rivers, and now in turn mountain peaks and the ocean all around, as he
swept through the vast expanse of air.
(ll. 167-193) Now the heroes apart in ambush, in a back-water of the river, were
met in council, sitting on the benches of their ship. And Aeson’s son himself was
speaking among them; and they were listening silently in their places sitting row
upon row: “My friends, what pleases myself that will I say out; it is for you to
bring about its fulfilment. For in common is our task, and common to all alike is
the right of speech; and he who in silence withholds his thought and his counsel,
let him know that it is he alone that bereaves this band of its home-return. Do
ye others rest here in the ship quietly with your arms; but I will go to the palace
of Aeetes, taking with me the sons of Phrixus and two comrades as well. And when
I meet him I will first make trial with words to see if he will be willing to give
up the golden fleece for friendship’s sake or not, but trusting to his might will
set at nought our quest. For so, learning his frowardness first from himself, we
will consider whether we shall meet him in battle, or some other plan shall avail
us, if we refrain from the war-cry. And let us not merely by force, before putting
words to the test, deprive him of his own possession. But first it is better to
go to him and win his favour by speech. Oftentimes, I ween, does speech accomplish
at need what prowess could hardly catty through, smoothing the path in manner befitting.
And he once welcomed noble Phrixus, a fugitive from his stepmother’s wiles and the
sacrifice prepared by his father. For all men everywhere, even the most shameless,
reverence the ordinance of Zeus, god of strangers, and regard it.”
(ll. 194-209) Thus he spake, and the youths approved the words of Aeson’s son
with one accord, nor was there one to counsel otherwise. And then he summoned to
go with him the sons of Phrixus, and Telamon and Augeias; and himself took Hermes’
wand; and at once they passed forth from the ship beyond the reeds and the water
to dry land, towards the rising ground of the plain. The plain, I wis, is called
Circe’s; and here in line grow many willows and osiers, on whose topmost branches
hang corpses bound with cords. For even now it is an abomination with the Colchians
to burn dead men with fire; nor is it lawful to place them in the earth and raise
a mound above, but to wrap them in untanned oxhides and suspend them from trees
far from the city. And so earth has an equal portion with air, seeing that they
bury the women; for that is the custom of their land.
(ll. 210-259) And as they went Hera with friendly thought spread a thick mist
through the city, that they might fare to the palace of Aeetes unseen by the countless
hosts of the Colchians. But soon when from the plain they came to the city and Aeetes’
palace, then again Hera dispersed the mist. And they stood at the entrance, marvelling
at the king’s courts and the wide gates and columns which rose in ordered lines
round the walls; and high up on the palace a coping of stone rested on brazen triglyphs.
And silently they crossed the threshold. And close by garden vines covered with
green foliage were in full bloom, lifted high in air. And beneath them ran four
fountains, ever-flowing, which Hephaestus had delved out. One was gushing with milk,
one with wine, while the third flowed with fragrant oil; and the fourth ran with
water, which grew warm at the setting of the Pleiads, and in turn at their rising
bubbled forth from the hollow rock, cold as crystal. Such then were the wondrous
works that the craftsman-god Hephaestus had fashioned in the palace of Cytaean Aeetes.
And he wrought for him bulls with feet of bronze, and their mouths were of bronze,
and from them they breathed out a terrible flame of fire; moreover he forged a plough
of unbending adamant, all in one piece, in payment of thanks to Helios, who had
taken the god up in his chariot when faint from the Phlegraean fight. (1) And here
an inner-court was built, and round it were many well-fitted doors and chambers
here and there, and all along on each side was a richly-wrought gallery. And on
both sides loftier buildings stood obliquely. In one, which was the loftiest, lordly
Aeetes dwelt with his queen; and in another dwelt Apsyrtus, son of Aeetes, whom
a Caucasian nymph, Asterodeia, bare before he made Eidyia his wedded wife, the youngest
daughter of Tethys and Oceanus. And the sons of the Colchians called him by the
new name of Phaethon, (2) because he outshone all the youths. The other buildings
the handmaidens had, and the two daughters of Aeetes, Chalciope and Medea. Medea
then [they found] going from chamber to chamber in search of her sister, for Hera
detained her within that day; but beforetime she was not wont to haunt the palace,
but all day long was busied in Hecate’s temple, since she herself was the priestess
of the goddess. And when she saw them she cried aloud, and quickly Chalciope caught
the sound; and her maids, throwing down at their feet their yarn and their thread,
rushed forth all in a throng. And she, beholding her sons among them, raised her
hands aloft through joy; and so they likewise greeted their mother, and when they
saw her embraced her in their gladness; and she with many sobs spoke thus:
(ll. 260-267) “After all then, ye were not destined to leave me in your heedlessness
and to wander far; but fate has turned you back. Poor wretch that I am! What a yearning
for Hellas from some woeful madness seized you at the behest of your father Phrixus.
Bitter sorrows for my heart did he ordain when dying. And why should ye go to the
city of Orchomenus, whoever this Orchomenus is, for the sake of Athamas’ wealth,
leaving your mother alone to bear her grief?”
(ll. 268-274) Such were her words; and Aeetes came forth last of all and Eidyia
herself came, the queen of Aeetes, on hearing the voice of Chalciope; and straightway
all the court was filled with a throng. Some of the thralls were busied with a mighty
bull, others with the axe were cleaving dry billets, and others heating with fire
water for the baths; nor was there one who relaxed his toil, serving the king.
(ll. 275-298) Meantime Eros passed unseen through the grey mist, causing confusion,
as when against grazing heifers rises the gadfly, which oxherds call the breese.
And quickly beneath the lintel in the porch he strung his bow and took from the
quiver an arrow unshot before, messenger of pain. And with swift feet unmarked he
passed the threshold and keenly glanced around; and gliding close by Aeson’s son
he laid the arrow-notch on the cord in the centre, and drawing wide apart with both
hands he shot at Medea; and speechless amazement seized her soul. But the god himself
flashed back again from the high-roofed hall, laughing loud; and the bolt burnt
deep down in the maiden’s heart like a flame; and ever she kept darting bright glances
straight up at Aeson’s son, and within her breast her heart panted fast through
anguish, all remembrance left her, and her soul melted with the sweet pain. And
as a poor woman heaps dry twigs round a blazing brand — a daughter of toil, whose
task is the spinning of wool, that she may kindle a blaze at night beneath her roof,
when she has waked very early — and the flame waxing wondrous great from the small
brand consumes all the twigs together; so, coiling round her heart, burnt secretly
Love the destroyer; and the hue of her soft cheeks went and came, now pale, now
red, in her soul’s distraction.
(ll. 299-303) Now when the thralls had laid a banquet ready before them, and
they had refreshed themselves with warm baths, gladly did they please their souls
with meat and drink. And thereafter Aeetes questioned the sons of his daughter,
addressing them with these words:
(ll. 304-316) “Sons of my daughter and of Phrixus, whom beyond all strangers
I honoured in my halls, how have ye come returning back to Aea? Did some calamity
cut short your escape in the midst? Ye did not listen when I set before you the
boundless length of the way. For I marked it once, whirled along in the chariot
of my father Helios, when he was bringing my sister Circe to the western land and
we came to the shore of the Tyrrhenian mainland, where even now she abides, exceeding
far from Colchis. But what pleasure is there in words? Do ye tell me plainly what
has been your fortune, and who these men are, your companions, and where from your
hollow ship ye came ashore.”
(ll. 317-319) Such were his questions, and Argus, before all his brethren, being
fearful for the mission of Aeson’s son, gently replied, for he was the elder-born:
(ll. 320-366) “Aeetes, that ship forthwith stormy blasts tore asunder, and ourselves,
crouching on the beams, a wave drove on to the beach of the isle of Enyalius (3)
in the murky night; and some god preserved us. For even the birds of Ares that haunted
the desert isle beforetime, not even them did we find. But these men had driven
them off, having landed from their ship on the day before; and the will of Zeus
taking pity on us, or some fate, detained them there, since they straightway gave
us both food and clothing in abundance, when they heard the illustrious name of
Phrixus and thine own; for to thy city are they faring. And if thou dost wish to
know their errand, I will not hide it from time. A certain king, vehemently longing
to drive this man far from his fatherland and possessions, because in might he outshone
all the sons of Aeolus, sends him to voyage hither on a bootless venture; and asserts
that the stock of Aeolus will not escape the heart-grieving wrath and rage of implacable
Zeus, nor the unbearable curse and vengeance due for Phrixus, until the fleece comes
back to Hellas. And their ship was fashioned by Pallas Athena, not such a one as
are the ships among the Colchians, on the vilest of which we chanced. For the fierce
waves and wind broke her utterly to pieces; but the other holds firm with her bolts,
even though all the blasts should buffet her. And with equal swiftness she speedeth
before the wind and when the crew ply the oar with unresting hands. And he hath
gathered in her the mightiest heroes of all Achaea, and hath come to thy city from
wandering far through cities and gulfs of the dread ocean, in the hope that thou
wilt grant him the fleece. But as thou dost please, so shall it be, for he cometh
not to use force, but is eager to pay thee a recompense for the gift. He has heard
from me of thy bitter foes the Sauromatae, and he will subdue them to thy sway.
And if thou desirest to know their names and lineage I will tell thee all. This
man on whose account the rest were gathered from Hellas, they call Jason, son of
Aeson, whom Cretheus begat. And if in truth he is of the stock of Cretheus himself,
thus he would be our kinsman on the father’s side. For Cretheus and Athamas were
both sons of Aeolus; and Phrixus was the son of Athamas, son of Aeolus. And here,
if thou hast heard at all of the seed of Helios, thou dost behold Augeias; and this
is Telamon sprung from famous Aeacus; and Zeus himself begat Aeacus. And so all
the rest, all the comrades that follow him, are the sons or grandsons of the immortals.”
(ll. 367-371) Such was the tale of Argus; but the king at his words was filled
with rage as he heard; and his heart was lifted high in wrath. And he spake in heavy
displeasure; and was angered most of all with the son of Chalciope; for he deemed
that on their account the strangers had come; and in his fury his eyes flashed forth
beneath his brows:
(ll. 372-381) “Begone from my sight, felons, straightway, ye and your tricks,
from the land, ere someone see a fleece and a Phrixus to his sorrow. Banded together
with your friends from Hellas, not for the fleece, but to seize my sceptre and royal
power have ye come hither. Had ye not first tasted of my table, surely would I have
cut out your tongues and hewn off both hands and sent you forth with your feet alone,
so that ye might be stayed from starting hereafter. And what lies have ye uttered
against the blessed gods!”
(ll. 382-385) Thus he spake in his wrath; and mightily from its depths swelled
the heart of Aeacus’ son, and his soul within longed to speak a deadly word in defiance,
but Aeson’s son checked him, for he himself first made gentle answer:
(ll. 386-395) “Aeetes, bear with this armed band, I pray. For not in the way
thou deemest have we come to thy city and palace, no, nor yet with such desires.
For who would of his own will dare to cross so wide a sea for the goods of a stranger?
But fate and the ruthless command of a presumptuous king urged me. Grant a favour
to thy suppliants, and to all Hellas will I publish a glorious fame of thee; yea,
we are ready now to pay thee a swift recompense in war, whether it be the Sauromatae
or some other people that thou art eager to subdue to thy sway.”
(ll. 396-400) He spake, flattering him with gentle utterance; but the king’s
soul brooded a twofold purpose within him, whether he should attack and slay them
on the spot or should make trial of their might. And this, as he pondered, seemed
the better way, and he addressed Jason in answer:
(ll. 401-421) “Stranger, why needest thou go through thy tale to the end? For
if ye are in truth of heavenly race, or have come in no wise inferior to me, to
win the goods of strangers, I will give thee the fleece to bear away, if thou dost
wish, when I have tried thee. For against brave men I bear no grudge, such as ye
yourselves tell me of him who bears sway in Hellas. And the trial of your courage
and might shall be a contest which I myself can compass with my hands, deadly though
it be. Two bulls with feet of bronze I have that pasture on the plain of Ares, breathing
forth flame from their jaws; them do I yoke and drive over the stubborn field of
Ares, four plough-gates; and quickly cleaving it with the share up to the headland,
I cast into the furrows the seed, not the corn of Demeter, but the teeth of a dread
serpent that grow up into the fashion of armed men; them I slay at once, cutting
them down beneath my spear as they rise against me on all sides. In the morning
do I yoke the oxen, and at eventide I cease from the harvesting. And thou, if thou
wilt accomplish such deeds as these, on that very day shalt carry off the fleece
to the king’s palace; ere that time comes I will not give it, expect it not. For
indeed it is unseemly that a brave man should yield to a coward.”
(ll. 422-426) Thus he spake; and Jason, fixing his eyes on the ground, sat just
as he was, speechless, helpless in his evil plight. For a long time he turned the
matter this way and that, and could in no way take on him the task with courage,
for a mighty task it seemed; and at last he made reply with crafty words:
(ll. 427-431) “With thy plea of right, Aeetes, thou dost shut me in overmuch.
Wherefore also I will dare that contest, monstrous as it is, though it be my doom
to die. For nothing will fall upon men more dread than dire necessity, which indeed
constrained me to come hither at a king’s command.”
(ll. 432-438) Thus he spake, smitten by his helpless plight; and the king with
grim words addressed him, sore troubled as he was: “Go forth now to the gathering,
since thou art eager for the toil; but if thou shouldst fear to lift the yoke upon
the oxen or shrink from the deadly harvesting, then all this shall be my care, so
that another too may shudder to come to a man that is better than he.”
(ll. 439-463) He spake outright; and Jason rose from his seat, and Augeias and
Telamon at once; and Argus followed alone, for he signed to his brothers to stay
there on the spot meantime; and so they went forth from the hall. And wonderfully
among them all shone the son of Aeson for beauty and grace; and the maiden looked
at him with stealthy glance, holding her bright veil aside, her heart smouldering
with pain; and her soul creeping like a dream flitted in his track as he went. So
they passed forth from the palace sorely troubled. And Chalciope, shielding herself
from the wrath of Aeetes, had gone quickly to her chamber with her sons. And Medea
likewise followed, and much she brooded in her soul all the cares that the Loves
awaken. And before her eyes the vision still appeared — himself what like he was,
with what vesture he was clad, what things he spake, how he sat on his seat, how
he moved forth to the door — and as she pondered she deemed there never was such
another man; and ever in her ears rung his voice and the honey-sweet words which
he uttered. And she feared for him, lest the oxen or Aeetes with his own hand should
slay him; and she mourned him as though already slain outright, and in her affliction
a round tear through very grievous pity coursed down her cheek; and gently weeping
she lifted up her voice aloud:
(ll. 464-470) Why does this grief come upon me, poor wretch? Whether he be the
best of heroes now about to perish, or the worst, let him go to his doom. Yet I
would that he had escaped unharmed; yea, may this be so, revered goddess, daughter
of Perses, may he avoid death and return home; but if it be his lot to be o’ermastered
by the oxen, may he first learn this, that I at least do not rejoice in his cruel
calamity.”
(ll. 471-474) Thus then was the maiden’s heart racked by love- cares. But when
the others had gone forth from the people and the city, along the path by which
at the first they had come from the plain, then Argus addressed Jason with these
words:
(ll. 475-483) “Son of Aeson, thou wilt despise the counsel which I will tell
thee, but, though in evil plight, it is not fitting to forbear from the trial. Ere
now thou hast heard me tell of a maiden that uses sorcery under the guidance of
Hecate, Perses’ daughter. If we could win her aid there will be no dread, methinks,
of thy defeat in the contest; but terribly do I fear that my mother will not take
this task upon her. Nevertheless I will go back again to entreat her, for a common
destruction overhangs us all.”
(ll. 383-491) He spake with goodwill, and Jason answered with these words: “Good
friend, if this is good in thy sight, I say not nay. Go and move thy mother, beseeching
her aid with prudent words; pitiful indeed is our hope when we have put our return
in the keeping of women.” So he spake, and quickly they reached the back-water.
And their comrades joyfully questioned them, when they saw them close at hand; and
to them spoke Aeson’s son grieved at heart:
(ll. 492-501) “My friends, the heart of ruthless Aeetes is utterly filled with
wrath against us, for not at all can the goal be reached either by me or by you
who question me. He said that two bulls with feet of bronze pasture on the plain
of Ares, breathing forth flame from their jaws. And with these he bade me plough
the field, four plough-gates; and said that he would give me from a serpent’s jaws
seed which will raise up earthborn men in armour of bronze; and on the same day
I must slay them. This task — for there was nothing better to devise — I took
on myself outright.”
(ll. 502-514) Thus he spake; and to all the contest seemed one that none could
accomplish, and long, quiet and silent, they looked at one another, bowed down with
the calamity and their despair; but at last Peleus spake with courageous words among
all the chiefs: “It is time to be counselling what we shall do. Yet there is not
so much profit, I trow, in counsel as in the might of our hands. If thou then, hero
son of Aeson, art minded to yoke Aeetes’ oxen, and art eager for the toil, surely
thou wilt keep thy promise and make thyself ready. But if thy soul trusts not her
prowess utterly, then neither bestir thyself nor sit still and look round for some
one else of these men. For it is not I who will flinch, since the bitterest pain
will be but death.”
(ll. 515-522) So spake the son of Aeacus; and Telamon’s soul was stirred, and
quickly he started up in eagerness; and Idas rose up the third in his pride; and
the twin sons of Tyndareus; and with them Oeneus’ son who was numbered among strong
men, though even the soft down on his cheek showed not yet; with such courage was
his soul uplifted. But the others gave way to these in silence. And straightway
Argus spake these words to those that longed for the contest:
(ll. 523-539) “My friends, this indeed is left us at the last. But I deem that
there will come to you some timely aid from my mother. Wherefore, eager though ye
be, refrain and abide in your ship a little longer as before, for it is better to
forbear than recklessly to choose an evil fate. There is a maiden, nurtured in the
halls of Aeetes, whom the goddess Hecate taught to handle magic herbs with exceeding
skill all that the land and flowing waters produce. With them is quenched the blast
of unwearied flame, and at once she stays the course of rivers as they rush roaring
on, and checks the stars and the paths of the sacred moon. Of her we bethought us
as we came hither along the path from the palace, if haply my mother, her own sister,
might persuade her to aid us in the venture. And if this is pleasing to you as well,
surely on this very day will I return to the palace of Aeetes to make trial; and
perchance with some god’s help shall I make the trial.”
(ll. 540-544) Thus he spake, and the gods in their goodwill gave them a sign.
A trembling dove in her flight from a mighty hawk fell from on high, terrified,
into the lap of Aeson’s son, and the hawk fell impaled on the stern-ornament. And
quickly Mopsus with prophetic words spake among them all:
(ll. 545-554) “For you, friends, this sign has been wrought by the will of heaven;
in no other way is it possible to interpret its meaning better, than to seek out
the maiden and entreat her with manifold skill. And I think she will not reject
our prayer, if in truth Phineus said that our return should be with the help of
the Cyprian goddess. It was her gentle bird that escaped death; and as my heart
within me foresees according to this omen, so may it prove! But, my friends, let
us call on Cytherea to aid us, and now at once obey the counsels of Argus.”
(ll. 555-563) He spake, and the warriors approved, remembering the injunctions
of Phineus; but all alone leapt up Apharcian Idas and shouted loudly in terrible
wrath: “Shame on us, have we come here fellow voyagers with women, calling on Cypris
for help and not on the mighty strength of Enyalius? And do ye look to doves and
hawks to save yourselves from contests? Away with you, take thought not for deeds
of war, but by supplication to beguile weakling girls.”
(ll. 564-571) Such were his eager words; and of his comrades many murmured low,
but none uttered a word of answer back. And he sat down in wrath; and at once Jason
roused them and uttered his own thought: “Let Argus set forth from the ship, since
this pleases all; but we will now move from the river and openly fasten our hawsers
to the shore. For surely it is not fitting for us to hide any longer cowering from
the battle-cry.”
(ll. 572-575) So he spake, and straightway sent Argus to return in haste to the
city; and they drew the anchors on board at the command of Aeson’s son, and rowed
the ship close to the shore, a little away from the back-water.
(ll. 576-608) But straightway Aeetes held an assembly of the Colchians far aloof
from his palace at a spot where they sat in times before, to devise against the
Minyae grim treachery and troubles. And he threatened that when first the oxen should
have torn in pieces the man who had taken upon him to perform the heavy task, he
would hew down the oak grove above the wooded hill, and burn the ship and her crew,
that so they might vent forth in ruin their grievous insolence, for all their haughty
schemes. For never would he have welcomed the Aeolid Phrixus as a guest in his halls,
in spite of his sore need, Phrixus, who surpassed all strangers in gentleness and
fear of the gods, had not Zeus himself sent Hermes his messenger down from heaven,
so that he might meet with a friendly host; much less would pirates coming to his
land be let go scatheless for long, men whose care it was to lift their hands and
seize the goods of others, and to weave secret webs of guile, and harry the steadings
of herdsmen with ill-sounding forays. And he said that besides all that the sons
of Phrixus should pay a fitting penalty to himself for returning in consort with
evildoers, that they might recklessly drive him from his honour and his throne;
for once he had heard a baleful prophecy from his father Helios, that he must avoid
the secret treachery and schemes of his own offspring and their crafty mischief.
Wherefore he was sending them, as they desired, to the Achaean land at the bidding
of their father — a long journey. Nor had he ever so slight a fear of his daughters,
that they would form some hateful scheme, nor of his son Apsyrtus; but this curse
was being fulfilled in the children of Chalciope. And he proclaimed terrible things
in his rage against the strangers, and loudly threatened to keep watch over the
ship and its crew, so that no one might escape calamity.
(ll. 609-615) Meantime Argus, going to Aeetes’ palace, with manifold pleading
besought his mother to pray Medea’s aid; and Chalciope herself already had the same
thoughts, but fear checked her soul lest haply either fate should withstand and
she should entreat her in vain, all distraught as she would be at her father’s deadly
wrath, or, if Medea yielded to her prayers, her deeds should be laid bare and open
to view.
(ll. 616-635) Now a deep slumber had relieved the maiden from her love-pains
as she lay upon her couch. But straightway fearful dreams, deceitful, such as trouble
one in grief, assailed her. And she thought that the stranger had taken on him the
contest, not because he longed to win the ram’s fleece, and that he had not come
on that account to Aeetes’ city, but to lead her away, his wedded wife, to his own
home; and she dreamed that herself contended with the oxen and wrought the task
with exceeding ease; and that her own parents set at naught their promise, for it
was not the maiden they had challenged to yoke the oxen but the stranger himself;
from that arose a contention of doubtful issue between her father and the strangers;
and both laid the decision upon her, to be as she should direct in her mind. But
she suddenly, neglecting her parents, chose the stranger. And measureless anguish
seized them and they shouted out in their wrath; and with the cry sleep released
its hold upon her. Quivering with fear she started up, and stared round the walls
of her chamber, and with difficulty did she gather her spirit within her as before,
and lifted her voice aloud:
(ll. 636-644) “Poor wretch, how have gloomy dreams affrighted me! I fear that
this voyage of the heroes will bring some great evil. My heart is trembling for
the stranger. Let him woo some Achaean girl far away among his own folk; let maidenhood
be mine and the home of my parents. Yet, taking to myself a reckless heart, I will
no more keep aloof but will make trial of my sister to see if she will entreat me
to aid in the contest, through grief for her own sons; this would quench the bitter
pain in my heart.”
(ll. 645-673) She spake, and rising from her bed opened the door of her chamber,
bare-footed, clad in one robe; and verily she desired to go to her sister, and crossed
the threshold. And for long she stayed there at the entrance of her chamber, held
back by shame; and she turned back once more; and again she came forth from within,
and again stole back; and idly did her feet bear her this way and that; yea, as
oft as she went straight on, shame held her within the chamber, and though held
back by shame, bold desire kept urging her on. Thrice she made the attempt and thrice
she checked herself, the fourth time she fell on her bed face downward, writhing
in pain. And as when a bride in her chamber bewails her youthful husband, to whom
her brothers and parents have given her, nor yet does she hold converse with all
her attendants for shame and for thinking of him; but she sits apart in her grief;
and some doom has destroyed him, before they have had pleasure of each other’s charms;
and she with heart on fire silently weeps, beholding her widowed couch, in fear
lest the women should mock and revile her; like to her did Medea lament. And suddenly
as she was in the midst of her tears, one of the handmaids came forth and noticed
her, one who was her youthful attendant; and straightway she told Chalciope, who
sat in the midst of her sons devising how to win over her sister. And when Chalciope
heard the strange tale from the handmaid, not even so did she disregard it. And
she rushed in dismay from her chamber right on to the chamber where the maiden lay
in her anguish, having torn her cheeks on each side; and when Chalciope saw her
eyes all dimmed with tears, she thus addressed her:
(ll. 674-680) “Ah me, Medea, why dost thou weep so? What hath befallen thee?
What terrible grief has entered thy heart? Has some heaven-sent disease enwrapt
thy frame, or hast thou heard from our father some deadly threat concerning me and
my sons? Would that I did not behold this home of my parents, or the city, but dwelt
at the ends of the earth, where not even the name of Colchians is known!”
(ll. 681-687) Thus she spake, and her sister’s cheeks flushed; and though she
was eager to reply, long did maiden shame restrain her. At one moment the word rose
on the end of her tongue, at another it fluttered back deep within her breast. And
often through her lovely lips it strove for utterance; but no sound came forth;
till at last she spoke with guileful words; for the bold Loves were pressing her
hard:
(ll. 688-692) “Chalciope, my heart is all trembling for thy sons, lest my father
forthwith destroy them together with the strangers. Slumbering just now in a short-lived
sleep such a ghastly dream did I see — may some god forbid its fulfilment and never
mayst thou win for thyself bitter care on thy sons’ account.”
(ll. 693-704) She spake, making trial of her sister to see if she first would
entreat help for her sons. And utterly unbearable grief surged over Chalciope’s
soul for fear at what she heard; and then she replied: “Yea, I myself too have come
to thee in eager furtherance of this purpose, if thou wouldst haply devise with
me and prepare some help. But swear by Earth and Heaven that thou wilt keep secret
in thy heart what I shall tell thee, and be fellow-worker with me. I implore thee
by the blessed gods, by thyself and by thy parents, not to see them destroyed by
an evil doom piteously; or else may I die with my dear sons and come back hereafter
from Hades an avenging Fury to haunt thee.”
(ll. 705-710) Thus she spake, and straightway a torrent of tears gushed forth
and low down she clasped her sister’s knees with both hands and let her head sink
on to her breast. Then they both made piteous lamentation over each other, and through
the halls rose the faint sound of women weeping in anguish. Medea, sore troubled,
first addressed her sister:
(ll. 711-717) “God help thee, what healing can I bring thee for what thou speakest
of, horrible curses and Furies? Would that it were firmly in my power to save thy
sons! Be witness that mighty oath of the Colchians by which thou urgest me to swear,
the great Heaven, and Earth beneath, mother of the gods, that as far as strength
lies in me, never shalt thou fail of help, if only thy prayers can be accomplished.”
(ll. 718-723) She spake, and Chalciope thus replied: “Couldst thou not then,
for the stranger — who himself craves thy aid — devise some trick or some wise
thought to win the contest, for the sake of my sons? And from him has come Argus
urging me to try to win thy help; I left him in the palace meantime while I came
hither.”
(ll. 724-739) Thus she spake, and Medea’s heart bounded with joy within her,
and at once her fair cheeks flushed, and a mist swam before her melting eyes, and
she spake as follows: “Chalciope, as is dear and delightful to thee and thy sons,
even so will I do. Never may the dawn appear again to my eyes, never mayst thou
see me living any longer, if I should take thought for anything before thy life
or thy sons’ lives, for they are my brothers, my dear kinsmen and youthful companions.
So do I declare myself to be thy sister, and thy daughter too, for thou didst lift
me to thy breast when an infant equally with them, as I ever heard from my mother
in past days. But go, bury my kindness in silence, so that I may carry out my promise
unknown to my parents; and at dawn I will bring to Hecate’s temple charms to cast
a spell upon the bulls.”
(ll. 740-743) Thus Chalciope went back from the chamber, and made known to her
sons the help given by her sister. And again did shame and hateful fear seize Medea
thus left alone, that she should devise such deeds for a man in her father’s despite.
(ll. 744-771) Then did night draw darkness over the earth; and on the sea sailors
from their ships looked towards the Bear and the stars of Orion; and now the wayfarer
and the warder longed for sleep, and the pall of slumber wrapped round the mother
whose children were dead; nor was there any more the barking of dogs through the
city, nor sound of men’s voices; but silence held the blackening gloom. But not
indeed upon Medea came sweet sleep. For in her love for Aeson’s son many cares kept
her wakeful, and she dreaded the mighty strength of the bulls, beneath whose fury
he was like to perish by an unseemly fate in the field of Ares. And fast did her
heart throb within her breast, as a sunbeam quivers upon the walls of a house when
flung up from water, which is just poured forth in a caldron or a pail may be; and
hither and thither on the swift eddy does it dart and dance along; even so the maiden’s
heart quivered in her breast. And the tear of pity flowed from her eyes, and ever
within anguish tortured her, a smouldering fire through her frame, and about her
fine nerves and deep down beneath the nape of the neck where the pain enters keenest,
whenever the unwearied Loves direct against the heart their shafts of agony. And
she thought now that she would give him the charms to cast a spell on the bulls,
now that she would not, and that she herself would perish; and again that she would
not perish and would not give the charms, but just as she was would endure her fate
in silence. Then sitting down she wavered in mind and said:
(ll. 772-801) “Poor wretch, must I toss hither and thither in woe? On every side
my heart is in despair; nor is there any help for my pain; but it burneth ever thus.
Would that I had been slain by the swift shafts of Artemis before I had set eyes
on him, before Chalciope’s sons reached the Achaean land. Some god or some Fury
brought them hither for our grief, a cause of many tears. Let him perish in the
contest if it be his lot to die in the field. For how could I prepare the charms
without my parents’ knowledge? What story call I tell them? What trick, what cunning
device for aid can I find? If I see him alone, apart from his comrades, shall I
greet him? Ill-starred that I am! I cannot hope that I should rest from my sorrows
even though he perished; then will evil come to me when he is bereft of life. Perish
all shame, perish all glow; may he, saved by my effort, go scatheless wherever his
heart desires. But as for me, on the day when he bides the contest in triumph, may
I die either straining my neck in the noose from the roof-tree or tasting drugs
destructive of life. But even so, when I am dead, they will fling out taunts against
me; and every city far away will ring with my doom, and the Colchian women, tossing
my name on their lips hither and thither, will revile me with unseemly mocking —
the maid who cared so much for a stranger that she died, the maid who disgraced
her home and her parents, yielding to a mad passion. And what disgrace will not
be mine? Alas for my infatuation! Far better would it be for me to forsake life
this very night in my chamber by some mysterious fate, escaping all slanderous reproach,
before I complete such nameless dishonour.”
(ll. 802-824) She spake, and brought a casket wherein lay many drugs, some for
healing, others for killing, and placing it upon her knees she wept. And she drenched
her bosom with ceaseless tears, which flowed in torrents as she sat, bitterly bewailing
her own fate. And she longed to choose a murderous drug to taste it, and now she
was loosening the bands of the casket eager to take it forth, unhappy maid! But
suddenly a deadly fear of hateful Hades came upon her heart. And long she held back
in speechless horror, and all around her thronged visions of the pleasing cares
of life. She thought of all the delightful things that are among the living, she
thought of her joyous playmates, as a maiden will; and the sun grew sweeter than
ever to behold, seeing that in truth her soul yearned for all. And she put the casket
again from off her knees, all changed by the prompting of Hera, and no more did
she waver in purpose; but longed for the rising dawn to appear quickly, that she
might give him the charms to work the spell as she had promised, and meet him face
to face. And often did she loosen the bolts of her door, to watch for the faint
gleam: and welcome to her did the dayspring shed its light, and folk began to stir
throughout the city.
(ll. 825-827) Then Argus bade his brothers remain there to learn the maiden’s
mind and plans, but himself turned back and went to the ship.
(ll. 828-890) Now soon as ever the maiden saw the light of dawn, with her hands
she gathered up her golden tresses which were floating round her shoulders in careless
disarray, and bathed her tear-stained cheeks, and made her skin shine with ointment
sweet as nectar; and she donned a beautiful robe, fitted with well-bent clasps,
and above on her head, divinely fair, she threw a veil gleaming like silver. And
there, moving to and fro in the palace, she trod the ground forgetful of the heaven-sent
woes thronging round her and of others that were destined to follow. And she called
to her maids. Twelve they were, who lay during the night in the vestibule of her
fragrant chamber, young as herself, not yet sharing the bridal couch, and she bade
them hastily yoke the mules to the chariot to bear her to the beauteous shrine of
Hecate. Thereupon the handmaids were making ready the chariot; and Medea meanwhile
took from the hollow casket a charm which men say is called the charm of Prometheus.
If a man should anoint his body therewithal, having first appeased the Maiden, the
only-begotten, with sacrifice by night, surely that man could not be wounded by
the stroke of bronze nor would he flinch from blazing fire; but for that day he
would prove superior both in prowess and in might. It shot up first- born when the
ravening eagle on the rugged flanks of Caucasus let drip to the earth the blood-like
ichor of tortured Prometheus. And its flower appeared a cubit above ground in colour
like the Corycian crocus, rising on twin stalks; but in the earth the root was like
newly-cut flesh. The dark juice of it, like the sap of a mountain-oak, she had gathered
in a Caspian shell to make the charm withal, when she had first bathed in seven
ever-flowing streams, and had called seven times on Brimo, nurse of youth, night-wandering
Brimo, of the underworld, queen among the dead, — in the gloom of night, clad in
dusky garments. And beneath, the dark earth shook and bellowed when the Titanian
root was cut; and the son of Iapetus himself groaned, his soul distraught with pain.
And she brought the charm forth and placed it in the fragrant band which engirdled
her, just beneath her bosom, divinely fair. And going forth she mounted the swift
chariot, and with her went two handmaidens on each side. And she herself took the
reins and in her right hand the well-fashioned whip, and drove through the city;
and the rest, the handmaids, laid their hands on the chariot behind and ran along
the broad highway; and they kilted up their light robes above their white knees.
And even as by the mild waters of Parthenius, or after bathing in the river Amnisus,
Leto’s daughter stands upon her golden chariot and courses over the hills with her
swift-footed roes, to greet from afar some richly-steaming hecatomb; and with her
come the nymphs in attendance, gathering, some at the spring of Amnisus itself,
others by the glens and many-fountained peaks; and round her whine and fawn the
beasts cowering as she moves along: thus they sped through the city; and on both
sides the people gave way, shunning the eyes of the royal maiden. But when she had
left the city’s well paved streets, and was approaching the shrine as she drove
over the plains, then she alighted eagerly from the smooth- running chariot and
spake as follows among her maidens:
(ll. 891-911) “Friends, verily have I sinned greatly and took no heed not to
go among the stranger-folk 1 who roam over our land. The whole city is smitten with
dismay; wherefore no one of the women who formerly gathered here day by day has
now come hither. But since we have come and no one else draws near, come, let us
satisfy our souls without stint with soothing song, and when we have plucked the
fair flowers amid the tender grass, that very hour will we return. And with many
a gift shall ye reach home this very day, if ye will gladden me with this desire
of mine. For Argus pleads with me, also Chalciope herself; but this that ye hear
from me keep silently in your hearts, lest the tale reach my father’s ears. As for
yon stranger who took on him the task with the oxen, they bid me receive his gifts
and rescue him from the deadly contest. And I approved their counsel, and I have
summoned him to come to my presence apart from his comrades, so that we may divide
the gifts among ourselves if he bring them in his hands, and in return may give
him a baleful charm. But when he comes, do ye stand aloof.”
(ll. 912-918) So she spake, and the crafty counsel pleased them all. And straightway
Argus drew Aeson’s son apart from his comrades as soon as he heard from his brothers
that Medea had gone at daybreak to the holy shrine of Hecate, and led him over the
plain; and with them went Mopsus, son of Ampycus, skilled to utter oracles from
the appearance of birds, and skilled to give good counsel to those who set out on
a journey.
(ll. 919-926) Never yet had there been such a man in the days of old, neither
of all the heroes of the lineage of Zeus himself, nor of those who sprung from the
blood of the other gods, as on that day the bride of Zeus made Jason, both to look
upon and to hold converse with. Even his comrades wondered as they gazed upon him,
radiant with manifold graces; and the son of Ampycus rejoiced in their journey,
already foreboding how all would end.
(ll. 927-931) Now by the path along the plain there stands near the shrine a
poplar with its crown of countless leaves, whereon often chattering crows would
roost. One of them meantime as she clapped her wings aloft in the branches uttered
the counsels of Hera:
(ll. 932-937) “What a pitiful seer is this, that has not the wit to conceive
even what children know, how that no maiden will say a word of sweetness or love
to a youth when strangers be near. Begone, sorry prophet, witless one; on thee neither
Cypris nor the gentle Loves breathe in their kindness.”
(ll. 938-946) She spake chiding, and Mopsus smiled to hear the god-sent voice
of the bird, and thus addressed them: “Do thou, son of Aeson, pass on to the temple,
where thou wilt find the maiden; and very kind will her greeting be to thee through
the prompting of Cypris, who will be thy helpmate in the contest, even as Phineus,
Agenor’s son, foretold. But we two, Argus and I, will await thy return, apart in
this very spot; do thou all alone be a suppliant and win her over with prudent words.”
(ll. 947-974) He spake wisely, and both at once gave approval. Nor was Medea’s
heart turned to other thoughts, for all her singing, and never a song that she essayed
pleased her long in her sport. But in confusion she ever faltered, nor did she keep
her eyes resting quietly upon the throng of her handmaids; but to the paths far
off she strained her gaze, turning her face aside. Oft did her heart sink fainting
within her bosom whenever she fancied she heard passing by the sound of a footfall
or of the wind. But soon he appeared to her longing eyes, striding along loftily,
like Sirius coming from ocean, which rises fair and clear to see, but brings unspeakable
mischief to flocks; thus then did Aeson’s son come to her, fair to see, but the
sight of him brought love-sick care. Her heart fell from out her bosom, and a dark
mist came over her eyes, and a hot blush covered her cheeks. And she had no strength
to lift her knees backwards or forwards, but her feet beneath were rooted to the
ground; and meantime all her handmaidens had drawn aside. So they two stood face
to face without a word, without a sound, like oaks or lofty pines, which stand quietly
side by side on the mountains when the wind is still; then again, when stirred by
the breath of the wind, they murmur ceaselessly; so they two were destined to tell
out all their tale, stirred by the breath of Love. And Aeson’s son saw that she
had fallen into some heaven-sent calamity, and with soothing words thus addressed
her:
(ll. 975-1007) “Why, pray, maiden, dost thou fear me so much, all alone as I
am? Never was I one of these idle boasters such as other men are — not even aforetime,
when I dwelt in my own country. Wherefore, maiden, be not too much abashed before
me, either to enquire whatever thou wilt or to speak thy mind. But since we have
met one another with friendly hearts, in a hallowed spot, where it is wrong to sin,
speak openly and ask questions, and beguile me not with pleasing words, for at the
first thou didst promise thy sister to give me the charms my heart desires. I implore
thee by Hecate herself, by thy parents, and by Zeus who holds his guardian hand
over strangers and suppliants; I come here to thee both a suppliant and a stranger,
bending the knee in my sore need. For without thee and thy sister never shall I
prevail in the grievous contest. And to thee will I render thanks hereafter for
thy aid, as is right and fitting for men who dwell far oft, making glorious thy
name and fame; and the rest of the heroes, returning to Hellas, will spread thy
renown and so will the heroes’ wives and mothers, who now perhaps are sitting on
the shore and making moan for us; their painful affliction thou mightest scatter
to the winds. In days past the maiden Ariadne, daughter of Minos, with kindly intent
rescued Theseus from grim contests — the maiden whom Pasiphae daughter of Helios
bare. But she, when Minos had lulled his wrath to rest, went aboard the ship with
him and left her fatherland; and her even the immortal gods loved, and, as a sign
in mid-sky, a crown of stars, which men call Ariadne’s crown, rolls along all night
among the heavenly constellations. So to thee too shall be thanks from the gods,
if thou wilt save so mighty an array of chieftains. For surely from thy lovely form
thou art like to excel in gentle courtest.”
(ll. 1008-1025) Thus he spake, honouring her; and she cast her eyes down with
a smile divinely sweet; and her soul melted within her, uplifted by his praise,
and she gazed upon him face to face; nor did she know what word to utter first,
but was eager to pour out everything at once. And forth from her fragrant girdle
ungrudgingly she brought out the charm; and he at once received it in his hands
with joy. And she would even have drawn out all her soul from her breast and given
it to him, exulting in his desire; so wonderfully did love flash forth a sweet flame
from the golden head of Aeson’s son; and he captivated her gleaming eyes; and her
heart within grew warm, melting away as the dew melts away round roses when warmed
by the morning’s light. And now both were fixing their eyes on the ground abashed,
and again were throwing glances at each other, smiling with the light of love beneath
their radiant brows. And at last and scarcely then did the maiden greet him:
(ll. 1026-1062) “Take heed now, that I may devise help for thee. When at thy
coming my father has given thee the deadly teeth from the dragon’s jaws for sowing,
then watch for the time when the night is parted in twain, then bathe in the stream
of the tireless river, and alone, apart from others, clad in dusky raiment, dig
a rounded pit; and therein slay a ewe, and sacrifice it whole, heaping high the
pyre on the very edge of the pit. And propitiate only-begotten Hecate, daughter
of Perses, pouring from a goblet the hive-stored labour of bees. And then, when
thou hast heedfully sought the grace of the goddess, retreat from the pyre; and
let neither the sound of feet drive thee to turn back, nor the baying of hounds,
lest haply thou shouldst maim all the rites and thyself fail to return duly to thy
comrades. And at dawn steep this charm in water, strip, and anoint thy body therewith
as with oil; and in it there will be boundless prowess and mighty strength, and
thou wilt deem thyself a match not for men but for the immortal gods. And besides,
let thy spear and shield and sword be sprinkled. Thereupon the spear-heads of the
earthborn men shall not pierce thee, nor the flame of the deadly bulls as it rushes
forth resistless. But such thou shalt be not for long, but for that one day; still
never flinch from the contest. And I will tell thee besides of yet another help.
As soon as thou hast yoked the strong oxen, and with thy might and thy prowess hast
ploughed all the stubborn fallow, and now along the furrows the Giants are springing
up, when the serpent’s teeth are sown on the dusky clods, if thou markest them uprising
in throngs from the fallow, cast unseen among them a massy stone; and they over
it, like ravening hounds over their food, will slay one another; and do thou thyself
hasten to rush to the battle- strife, and the fleece thereupon thou shalt bear far
away from Aea; nevertheless, depart wherever thou wilt, or thy pleasure takes thee,
when thou hast gone hence.”
(ll. 1063-1068) Thus she spake, and cast her eyes to her feet in silence, and
her cheek, divinely fair, was wet with warm tears as she sorrowed for that he was
about to wander far from her side over the wide sea: and once again she addressed
him face to face with mournful words, and took his right hand; for now shame had
left her eyes:
(ll. 1069-1076) “Remember, if haply thou returnest to thy home, Medea’s name;
and so will I remember thine, though thou be far away. And of thy kindness tell
me this, where is thy home, whither wilt thou sail hence in thy ship over the sea;
wilt thou come near wealthy Orchomenus, or near the Aeaean isle? And tell me of
the maiden, whosoever she be that thou hast named, the far-renowned daughter of
Pasiphae, who is kinswoman to my father.”
(ll. 1077-1078) Thus she spake; and over him too, at the tears of the maiden,
stole Love the destroyer, and he thus answered her:
(ll. 1079-1101) “All too surely do I deem that never by night and never by day
will I forget thee if I escape death and indeed make my way in safety to the Achaean
land, and Aeetes set not before us some other contest worse than this. And if it
pleases thee to know about my fatherland, I will tell it out; for indeed my own
heart bids me do that. There is a land encircled by lofty mountains, rich in sheep
and in pasture, where Prometheus, son of Iapetus, begat goodly Deucalion, who first
founded cities and reared temples to the immortal gods, and first ruled over men.
This land the neighbours who dwell around call Haemonia. And in it stands Ioleus,
my city, and in it many others, where they have not so much as heard the name of
the Aeaean isle; yet there is a story that Minyas starting thence, Minyas son of
Aeolus, built long ago the city of Orchomenus that borders on the Cadmeians. But
why do I tell thee all this vain talk, of our home and of Minos’ daughter, far-famed
Ariadne, by which glorious name they called that lovely maiden of whom thou askest
me? Would that, as Minos then was well inclined to Theseus for her sake, so may
thy father be joined to us in friendship!”
(ll. 1102-1104) Thus he spake, soothing her with gentle converse. But pangs most
bitter stirred her heart and in grief did she address him with vehement words:
(ll. 1105-1117) “In Hellas, I ween, this is fair to pay heed to covenants; but
Aeetes is not such a man among men as thou sayest was Pasiphae’s husband, Minos;
nor can I liken myself to Ariadne; wherefore speak not of guest-love. But only do
thou, when thou hast reached Iolcus, remember me, and thee even in my parents’ despite,
will I remember. And from far off may a rumour come to me or some messenger-bird,
when thou forgettest me; or me, even me, may swift blasts catch up and bear over
the sea hence to Iolcus, that so I may cast reproaches in thy face and remind thee
that it was by my good will thou didst escape. May I then be seated in thy halls,
an unexpected guest!”
(ll. 1118-1130) Thus she spake with piteous tears falling down her cheeks, and
to her Jason replied: “Let the empty blasts wander at will, lady, and the messenger-bird,
for vain is thy talk. But if thou comest to those abodes and to the land of Hellas,
honoured and reverenced shalt thou be by women and men; and they shall worship thee
even as a goddess, for that by thy counsel their sons came home again, their brothers
and kinsmen and stalwart husbands were saved from calamity. And in our bridal chamber
shalt thou prepare our couch; and nothing shall come between our love till the doom
of death fold us round.”
(ll. 1131-1136) Thus he spake; and her soul melted within her to hear his words;
nevertheless she shuddered to behold the deeds of destruction to come. Poor wretch!
Not long was she destined to refuse a home in Hellas. For thus Hera devised it,
that Aeaean Medea might come to Ioleus for a bane to Pelias, forsaking her native
land.
(ll. 1137-1145) And now her handmaids, glancing at them from a distance, were
grieving in silence; and the time of day required that the maiden should return
home to her mother’s side. But she thought not yet of departing, for her soul delighted
both in his beauty and in his winsome words, but Aeson’s son took heed, and spake
at last, though late: “It is time to depart, lest the sunlight sink before we know
it, and some stranger notice all; but again will we come and meet here.”
(ll. 1146-1162) So did they two make trial of one another thus far with gentle
words; and thereafter parted. Jason hastened to return in joyous mood to his comrades
and the ship, she to her handmaids; and they all together came near to meet her,
but she marked them not at all as they thronged around. For her soul had soared
aloft amid the clouds. And her feet of their own accord mounted the swift chariot,
and with one hand she took the reins, and with the other the whip of cunning workmanship,
to drive the mules; and they rushed hasting to the city and the palace. And when
she was come Chalciope in grief for her sons questioned her; but Medea, distraught
by swiftly-changing thoughts, neither heard her words nor was eager to speak in
answer to her questions. But she sat upon a low stool at the foot of her couch,
bending down, her cheek leaning on her left hand, and her eyes were wet with tears
as she pondered what an evil deed she had taken part in by her counsels.
(ll. 1163-1190) Now when Aeson’s son had joined his comrades again in the spot
where he had left them when he departed, he set out to go with them, telling them
all the story, to the gathering of the heroes; and together they approached the
ship. And when they saw Jason they embraced him and questioned him. And he told
to all the counsels of the maiden and showed the dread charm; but Idas alone of
his comrades sat apart biting down his wrath; and the rest joyous in heart, at the
hour when the darkness of night stayed them, peacefully took thought for themselves.
But at daybreak they sent two men to go to Aeetes and ask for the seed, first Telamon
himself, dear to Ares, and with him Aethalides, Hermes’ famous son. So they went
and made no vain journey; but when they came, lordly Aeetes gave them for the contest
the fell teeth of the Aonian dragon which Cadmus found in Ogygian Thebes when he
came seeking for Europa and there slew the — warder of the spring of Ares. There
he settled by the guidance of the heifer whom Apollo by his prophetic word granted
him to lead him on his way. But the teeth the Tritonian goddess tore away from the
dragon’s jaws and bestowed as a gift upon Aeetes and the slayer. And Agenor’s son,
Cadmus, sowed them on the Aonian plains and founded an earthborn people of all who
were left from the spear when Ares did the reaping; and the teeth Aeetes then readily
gave to be borne to the ship, for he deemed not that Jason would bring the contest
to an end, even though he should cast the yoke upon the oxen.
(ll. 1191-1224) Far away in the west the sun was sailing beneath the dark earth,
beyond the furthest hills of the Aethiopians; and Night was laying the yoke upon
her steeds; and the heroes were preparing their beds by the hawsers. But Jason,
as soon as the stars of Heliee, the bright-gleaming bear, had set, and the air had
all grown still under heaven, went to a desert spot, like some stealthy thief, with
all that was needful; for beforehand in the daytime had he taken thought for everything;
and Argus came bringing a ewe and milk from the flock; and them he took from the
ship. But when the hero saw a place which was far away from the tread of men, in
a clear meadow beneath the open sky, there first of all he bathed his tender body
reverently in the sacred river; and round him he placed a dark robe, which Hypsipyle
of Lemnos had given him aforetime, a memorial of many a loving embrace. Then he
dug a pit in the ground of a cubit’s depth and heaped up billets of wood, and over
it he cut the throat of the sheep, and duly placed the carcase above; and he kindled
the logs placing fire beneath, and poured over them mingled libations, calling on
Hecate Brimo to aid him in the contests. And when he had called on her he drew back;
and she heard him, the dread goddess, from the uttermost depths and came to the
sacrifice of Aeson’s son; and round her horrible serpents twined themselves among
the oak boughs; and there was a gleam of countless torches; and sharply howled around
her the hounds of hell. All the meadows trembled at her step; and the nymphs that
haunt the marsh and the river shrieked, all who dance round that mead of Amarantian
Phasis. And fear seized Aeson’s son, but not even so did he turn round as his feet
bore him forth, till he came back to his comrades; and now early dawn arose and
shed her light above snowy Caucasus.
(ll. 1225-1245) Then Aeetes arrayed his breast in the stiff corslet which Ares
gave him when he had slain Phlegraean Mimas with his own hands; and upon his head
he placed a golden helmet with four plumes, gleaming like the sun’s round light
when he first rises from Ocean. And he wielded his shield of many hides, and his
spear, terrible, resistless; none of the heroes could have withstood its shock now
that they had left behind Heracles far away, who alone could have met it in battle.
For the king his well-fashioned chariot of swift steeds was held near at hand by
Phaethon, for him to mount; and he mounted, and held the reins in his hands. Then
from the city he drove along the broad highway, that he might be present at the
contest; and with him a countless multitude rushed forth. And as Poseidon rides,
mounted in his chariot, to the Isthmian contest or to Taenarus, or to Lerna’s water,
or through the grove of Hyantian Onchestus, and thereafter passes even to Calaureia
with his steeds, and the Haemonian rock, or well-wooded Geraestus; even so was Aeetes,
lord of the Colchians, to behold.
(ll. 1246-1277) Meanwhile, prompted by Medea, Jason steeped the charm in water
and sprinkled with it his shield and sturdy spear, and sword; and his comrades round
him made proof of his weapons with might and main, but could not bend that spear
even a little, but it remained firm in their stalwart hands unbroken as before.
But in furious rage with them Idas, Aphareus’ son, with his great sword hewed at
the spear near the butt, and the edge leapt back repelled by the shock, like a hammer
from the anvil; and the heroes shouted with joy for their hope in the contest. And
then he sprinkled his body, and terrible prowess entered into him, unspeakable,
dauntless; and his hands on both sides thrilled vigorously as they swelled with
strength. And as when a warlike steed eager for the fight neighs and beats the ground
with his hoof, while rejoicing he lifts his neck on high with ears erect; in such
wise did Aeson’s son rejoice in the strength of his limbs. And often hither and
thither did he leap high in air tossing in his hands his shield of bronze and ashen
spear. Thou wouldst say that wintry lightning flashing from the gloomy sky kept
on darting forth from the clouds what time they bring with them their blackest rainstorm.
Not long after that were the heroes to hold back from the contests; but sitting
in rows on their benches they sped swiftly on to the plain of Ares. And it lay in
front of them on the opposite side of the city, as far off as is the turning-post
that a chariot must reach from the starting-point, when the kinsmen of a dead king
appoint funeral games for footmen and horsemen. And they found Aeetes and the tribes
of the Colchians; these were stationed on the Caucasian heights, but the king by
the winding brink of the river.
(ll. 1278-1325) Now Aeson’s son, as soon as his comrades had made the hawsers
fast, leapt from the ship, and with spear and shield came forth to the contest;
and at the same time he took the gleaming helmet of bronze filled with sharp teeth,
and his sword girt round his shoulders, his body stripped, in somewise resembling
Ares and in somewise Apollo of the golden sword. And gazing over the field he saw
the bulls’ yoke of bronze and near it the plough, all of one piece, of stubborn
adamant. Then he came near, and fixed his sturdy spear upright on its butt, and
taking his helmet, off leant it against the spear. And he went forward with shield
alone to examine the countless tracks of the bulls, and they from some unseen lair
beneath the earth, where was their strong steading, wrapt in murky smoke, both rushed
out together, breathing forth flaming fire. And sore afraid were the heroes at the
sight. But Jason, setting wide his feet, withstood their onset, as in the sea a
rocky reef withstands the waves tossed by the countless blasts. Then in front of
him he held his shield; and both the bulls with loud bellowing attacked him with
their mighty horns; nor did they stir him a jot by their onset. And as when through
the holes of the furnace the armourers’ bellows anon gleam brightly, kindling the
ravening flame, and anon cease from blowing, and a terrible roar rises from the
fire when it darts up from below; so the bulls roared, breathing forth swift flame
from their mouths, while the consuming heat played round him, smiting like lightning;
but the maiden’s charms protected him. Then grasping the tip of the horn of the
right- hand bull, he dragged it mightily with all his strength to bring it near
the yoke of bronze, and forced it down on to its knees, suddenly striking with his
foot the foot of bronze. So also he threw the other bull on to its knees as it rushed
upon him, and smote it down with one blow. And throwing to the ground his broad
shield, he held them both down where they had fallen on their fore-knees, as he
strode from side to side, now here, now there, and rushed swiftly through the flame.
But Aeetes marvelled at the hero’s might. And meantime the sons of Tyndareus for
long since had it been thus ordained for them — near at hand gave him the yoke
from the ground to cast round them. Then tightly did he bind their necks; and lifting
the pole of bronze between them, he fastened it to the yoke by its golden tip. So
the twin heroes started back from the fire to the ship. But Jason took up again
his shield and cast it on his back behind him, and grasped the strong helmet filled
with sharp teeth, and his resistless spear, wherewith, like some ploughman with
a Pelasgian goad, he pricked the bulls beneath, striking their flanks; and very
firmly did he guide the well fitted plough handle, fashioned of adamant.
(ll. 1326-1339) The bulls meantime raged exceedingly, breathing forth furious
flame of fire; and their breath rose up like the roar of blustering winds, in fear
of which above all seafaring men furl their large sail. But not long after that
they moved on at the bidding of the spear; and behind them the rugged fallow was
broken up, cloven by the might of the bulls and the sturdy ploughman. Then terribly
groaned the clods withal along the furrows of the plough as they were rent, each
a man’s burden; and Jason followed, pressing down the cornfield with firm foot;
and far from him he ever sowed the teeth along the clods as each was ploughed, turning
his head back for fear lest the deadly crop of earthborn men should rise against
him first; and the bulls toiled onwards treading with their hoofs of bronze.
(ll. 1340-1407) But when the third part of the day was still left as it wanes
from dawn, and wearied labourers call for the sweet hour of unyoking to come to
them straightway, then the fallow was ploughed by the tireless ploughman, four plough-gates
though it was; and he loosed the plough from the oxen. Them he scared in flight
towards the plain; but he went back again to the ship, while he still saw the furrows
free of the earthborn men. And all round his comrades heartened him with their shouts.
And in the helmet he drew from the river’s stream and quenched his thirst with the
water. Then he bent his knees till they grew supple, and filled his mighty heart
with courage, raging like a boar, when it sharpens its teeth against the hunters,
while from its wrathful mouth plenteous foam drips to the ground. By now the earthborn
men were springing up over all the field; and the plot of Ares, the death-dealer,
bristled with sturdy shields and double-pointed spears and shining helmets; and
the gleam reached Olympus from beneath, flashing through the air. And as when abundant
snow has fallen on the earth and the storm blasts have dispersed the wintry clouds
under the murky night, and all the hosts of the stars appear shining through the
gloom; so did those warriors shine springing up above the earth. But Jason bethought
him of the counsels of Medea full of craft, and seized from the plain a huge round
boulder, a terrible quoit of Ares Enyalius; four stalwart youths could not have
raised it from the ground even a little. Taking it in his hands he threw it with
a rush far away into their midst; and himself crouched unseen behind his shield,
with full confidence. And the Colchians gave a loud cry, like the roar of the sea
when it beats upon sharp crags; and speechless amazement seized Aeetes at the rush
of the sturdy quoit. And the Earthborn, like fleet-footed hounds, leaped upon one
another and slew with loud yells; and on earth their mother they fell beneath their
own spears, likes pines or oaks, which storms of wind beat down. And even as a fiery
star leaps from heaven, trailing a furrow of light, a portent to men, whoever see
it darting with a gleam through the dusky sky; in such wise did Aeson’s son rush
upon the earthborn men, and he drew from the sheath his bare sword, and smote here
and there, mowing them down, many on the belly and side, half risen to the air —
and some that had risen as far as the shoulders — and some just standing upright,
and others even now rushing to battle. And as when a fight is stirred up concerning
boundaries, and a husbandman, in fear lest they should ravage his fields, seizes
in his hand a curved sickle, newly sharpened, and hastily cuts the unripe crop,
and waits not for it to be parched in due season by the beams of the sun; so at
that time did Jason cut down the crop of the Earthborn; and the furrows were filled
with blood, as the channels of a spring with water. And they fell, some on their
faces biting the rough clod of earth with their teeth, some on their backs, and
others on their hands and sides, like to sea- monsters to behold. And many, smitten
before raising their feet from the earth, bowed down as far to the ground as they
had risen to the air, and rested there with the damp of death on their brows. Even
so, I ween, when Zeus has sent a measureless rain, new planted orchard-shoots droop
to the ground, cut off by the root the toil of gardening men; but heaviness of heart
and deadly anguish come to the owner of the farm, who planted them; so at that time
did bitter grief come upon the heart of King Aeetes. And he went back to the city
among the Colchians, pondering how he might most quickly oppose the heroes. And
the day died, and Jason’s contest was ended.
Leave A Comment