BOOK I

Produced by Douglas B. Killings, and David Widger

[Illustration]

The Argonautica

by Apollonius Rhodius

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.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY: ORIGINAL TEXT—

Seaton, R.C. (Ed. & Trans.): “Apollonius Rhodius: Argonautica”

(Harvard University Press, Cambridge MA, 1912). Original Greek text with

side-by-side English translation.

OTHER TRANSLATIONS—

Rieu, E.V. (Trans.): “Apollonius of Rhodes: The Voyage of the Argo”

(Penguin Classics, London, 1959, 1971).

RECOMMENDED READING—

Euripides: “Medea”, “Hecabe”, “Electra”,

and “Heracles”, translated by Philip Vellacott (Penguin Classics,

London, 1963). Contains four plays by Euripides, two of which concern

characters from “The Argonautica”.

Contents

INTRODUCTION

THE ARGONAUTICA

BOOK I

BOOK II

BOOK III

BOOK IV

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTION

Much has been written about the chronology of Alexandrian literature

and the famous Library, founded by Ptolemy Soter, but the dates of the

chief writers are still matters of conjecture. The birth of Apollonius

Rhodius is placed by scholars at various times between 296 and 260

B.C., while the year of his death is equally uncertain. In fact, we

have very little information on the subject. There are two “lives” of

Apollonius in the Scholia, both derived from an earlier one which is

lost. From these we learn that he was of Alexandria by birth,[1] that

he lived in the time of the Ptolemies, and was a pupil of Callimachus;

that while still a youth he composed and recited in public his

_Argonautica_, and that the poem was condemned, in consequence of which

he retired to Rhodes; that there he revised his poem, recited it with

great applause, and hence called himself a Rhodian. The second “life”

adds: “Some say that he returned to Alexandria and again recited his

poem with the utmost success, so that he was honoured with the

libraries of the Museum and was buried with Callimachus.” The last

sentence may be interpreted by the notice of Suidas, who informs us

that Apollonius was a contemporary of Eratosthenes, Euphorion and

Timarchus, in the time of Ptolemy Euergetes, and that he succeeded

Eratosthenes in the headship of the Alexandrian Library. Suidas also

informs us elsewhere that Aristophanes at the age of sixty-two

succeeded Apollonius in this office. Many modern scholars deny the

“bibliothecariate” of Apollonius for chronological reasons, and there

is considerable difficulty about it. The date of Callimachus’ _Hymn to

Apollo_, which closes with some lines (105-113) that are admittedly an

allusion to Apollonius, may be put with much probability at 248 or 247

B.C. Apollonius must at that date have been at least twenty years old.

Eratosthenes died 196-193 B.C. This would make Apollonius seventy-two

to seventy-five when he succeeded Eratosthenes. This is not impossible,

it is true, but it is difficult. But the difficulty is taken away if we

assume with Ritschl that Eratosthenes resigned his office some years

before his death, which allows us to put the birth of Apollonius at

about 280, and would solve other difficulties. For instance, if the

Librarians were buried within the precincts, it would account for the

burial of Apollonius next to Callimachus—Eratosthenes being still

alive. However that may be, it is rather arbitrary to take away the

“bibliothecariate” of Apollonius, which is clearly asserted by Suidas,

on account of chronological calculations which are themselves

uncertain. Moreover, it is more probable that the words following “some

say” in the second “life” are a remnant of the original life than a

conjectural addition, because the first “life” is evidently incomplete,

nothing being said about the end of Apollonius’ career.

The principal event in his life, so far as we know, was the quarrel

with his master Callimachus, which was most probably the cause of his

condemnation at Alexandria and departure to Rhodes. This quarrel

appears to have arisen from differences of literary aims and taste,

but, as literary differences often do, degenerated into the bitterest

personal strife. There are references to the quarrel in the writings of

both. Callimachus attacks Apollonius in the passage at the end of the

_Hymn to Apollo_, already mentioned, also probably in some epigrams,

but most of all in his _Ibis_, of which we have an imitation, or

perhaps nearly a translation, in Ovid’s poem of the same name. On the

part of Apollonius there is a passage in the third book of the

_Argonautica_ (ll. 927-947) which is of a polemical nature and stands

out from the context, and the well-known savage epigram upon

Callimachus.[2] Various combinations have been attempted by scholars,

notably by Couat, in his _Poésie Alexandrine_, to give a connected

account of the quarrel, but we have not _data_ sufficient to determine

the order of the attacks, and replies, and counter-attacks. The _Ibis_

has been thought to mark the termination of the feud on the curious

ground that it was impossible for abuse to go further. It was an age

when literary men were more inclined to comment on writings of the past

than to produce original work. Literature was engaged in taking stock

of itself. Homer was, of course, professedly admired by all, but more

admired than imitated. Epic poetry was out of fashion and we find many

epigrams of this period—some by Callimachus—directed against the

“cyclic” poets, by whom were meant at that time those who were always

dragging in conventional and commonplace epithets and phrases peculiar

to epic poetry. Callimachus was in accordance with the spirit of the

age when he proclaimed “a great book” to be “a great evil”, and sought

to confine poetical activity within the narrowest limits both of

subject and space. Theocritus agreed with him, both in principle and

practice. The chief characteristics of Alexandrianism are well

summarized by Professor Robinson Ellis as follows: “Precision in form

and metre, refinement in diction, a learning often degenerating into

pedantry and obscurity, a resolute avoidance of everything commonplace

in subject, sentiment or allusion.” These traits are more prominent in

Callimachus than in Apollonius, but they are certainly to be seen in

the latter. He seems to have written the _Argonautica_ out of bravado,

to show that he _could_ write an epic poem. But the influence of the

age was too strong. Instead of the unity of an Epic we have merely a

series of episodes, and it is the great beauty and power of one of

these episodes that gives the poem its permanent value—the episode of

the love of Jason and Medea. This occupies the greater part of the

third book. The first and second books are taken up with the history of

the voyage to Colchis, while the fourth book describes the return

voyage. These portions constitute a metrical guide book, filled no

doubt with many pleasing episodes, such as the rape of Hylas, the

boxing match between Pollux and Amyeus, the account of Cyzicus, the

account of the Amazons, the legend of Talos, but there is no unity

running through the poem beyond that of the voyage itself.

The Tale of the Argonauts had been told often before in verse and

prose, and many authors’ names are given in the Scholia to Apollonius,

but their works have perished. The best known earlier account that we

have is that in Pindar’s fourth Pythian ode, from which Apollonius has

taken many details. The subject was one for an epic poem, for its unity

might have been found in the working out of the expiation due for the

crime of Athamas; but this motive is barely mentioned by our author.

As we have it, the motive of the voyage is the command of Pelias to

bring back the golden fleece, and this command is based on Pelias’

desire to destroy Jason, while the divine aid given to Jason results

from the intention of Hera to punish Pelias for his neglect of the

honour due to her. The learning of Apollonius is not deep but it is

curious; his general sentiments are not according to the Alexandrian

standard, for they are simple and obvious. In the mass of material from

which he had to choose the difficulty was to know what to omit, and

much skill is shown in fusing into a tolerably harmonious whole

conflicting mythological and historical details. He interweaves with

his narrative local legends and the founding of cities, accounts of

strange customs, descriptions of works of art, such as that of Ganymede

and Eros playing with knucklebones,[3] but prosaically calls himself

back to the point from these pleasing digressions by such an expression

as “but this would take me too far from my song.” His business is the

straightforward tale and nothing else. The astonishing geography of the

fourth book reminds us of the interest of the age in that subject,

stimulated no doubt by the researches of Eratosthenes and others.

The language is that of the conventional epic. Apollonius seems to have

carefully studied Homeric glosses, and gives many examples of isolated

uses, but his choice of words is by no means limited to Homer. He

freely avails himself of Alexandrian words and late uses of Homeric

words. Among his contemporaries Apollonius suffers from a comparison

with Theocritus, who was a little his senior, but he was much admired

by Roman writers who derived inspiration from the great classical

writers of Greece by way of Alexandria. In fact Alexandria was a useful

bridge between Athens and Rome. The _Argonautica_ was translated by

Varro Atacinus, copied by Ovid and Virgil, and minutely studied by

Valerius Flaccus in his poem of the same name. Some of his finest

passages have been appropriated and improved upon by Virgil by the

divine right of superior genius.[4] The subject of love had been

treated in the romantic spirit before the time of Apollonius in

writings that have perished, for instance, in those of Antimachus of

Colophon, but the _Argonautica_ is perhaps the first poem still extant

in which the expression of this spirit is developed with elaboration.

The Medea of Apollonius is the direct precursor of the Dido of Virgil,

and it is the pathos and passion of the fourth book of the “Aeneid”

that keep alive many a passage of Apollonius.

THE ARGONAUTICA

BOOK I

Beginning with thee, O Phoebus, I will recount the famous deeds of men

of old, who, at the behest of King Pelias, down through the mouth of

Pontus and between the Cyanean rocks, sped well-benched Argo in quest

of the golden fleece.

Such was the oracle that Pelias heard, that a hateful doom awaited him

to be slain at the prompting of the man whom he should see coming forth

from the people with but one sandal. And no long time after, in

accordance with that true report, Jason crossed the stream of wintry

Anaurus on foot, and saved one sandal from the mire, but the other he

left in the depths held back by the flood. And straightway he came to

Pelias to share the banquet which the king was offering to his father

Poseidon and the rest of the gods, though he paid no honour to

Pelasgian Hera. Quickly the king saw him and pondered, and devised for

him the toil of a troublous voyage, in order that on the sea or among

strangers he might lose his home-return.

The ship, as former bards relate, Argus wrought by the guidance of

Athena. But now I will tell the lineage and the names of the heroes,

and of the long sea-paths and the deeds they wrought in their

wanderings; may the Muses be the inspirers of my song!

First then let us name Orpheus whom once Calliope bare, it is said,

wedded to Thracian Oeagrus, near the Pimpleian height. Men say that he

by the music of his songs charmed the stubborn rocks upon the mountains

and the course of rivers. And the wild oak-trees to this day, tokens of

that magic strain, that grow at Zone on the Thracian shore, stand in

ordered ranks close together, the same which under the charm of his

lyre he led down from Pieria. Such then was Orpheus whom Aeson’s son

welcomed to share his toils, in obedience to the behest of Cheiron,

Orpheus ruler of Bistonian Pieria.

Straightway came Asterion, whom Cometes begat by the waters of eddying

Apidanus; he dwelt at Peiresiae near the Phylleian mount, where mighty

Apidanus and bright Enipeus join their streams, coming together from

afar.

Next to them from Larisa came Polyphemus, son of Eilatus, who aforetime

among the mighty Lapithae, when they were arming themselves against the

Centaurs, fought in his younger days; now his limbs were grown heavy

with age, but his martial spirit still remained, even as of old.

Nor was Iphiclus long left behind in Phylace, the uncle of Aeson’s son;

for Aeson had wedded his sister Alcimede, daughter of Phylacus: his

kinship with her bade him be numbered in the host.

Nor did Admetus, the lord of Pherae rich in sheep, stay behind beneath

the peak of the Chalcodonian mount.

Nor at Alope stayed the sons of Hermes, rich in corn-land, well skilled

in craftiness, Erytus and Echion, and with them on their departure

their kinsman Aethalides went as the third; him near the streams of

Amphrysus Eupolemeia bare, the daughter of Myrmidon, from Phthia; the

two others were sprung from Antianeira, daughter of Menetes.

From rich Gyrton came Coronus, son of Caeneus, brave, but not braver

than his father. For bards relate that Caeneus though still living

perished at the hands of the Centaurs, when apart from other chiefs he

routed them; and they, rallying against him, could neither bend nor

slay him; but unconquered and unflinching he passed beneath the earth,

overwhelmed by the downrush of massy pines.

There came too Titaresian Mopsus, whom above all men the son of Leto

taught the augury of birds; and Eurydamas the son of Ctimenus; he dwelt

at Dolopian Ctimene near the Xynian lake.

Moreover Actor sent his son Menoetius from Opus that he might accompany

the chiefs.

Eurytion followed and strong Eribotes, one the son of Teleon, the other

of Irus, Actor’s son; the son of Teleon renowned Eribotes, and of Irus

Eurytion. A third with them was Oileus, peerless in courage and well

skilled to attack the flying foe, when they break their ranks.

Now from Euboea came Canthus eager for the quest, whom Canethus son of

Abas sent; but he was not destined to return to Cerinthus. For fate had

ordained that he and Mopsus, skilled in the seer’s art, should wander

and perish in the furthest ends of Libya. For no ill is too remote for

mortals to incur, seeing that they buried them in Libya, as far from

the Colchians as is the space that is seen between the setting and the

rising of the sun.

To him Clytius and Iphitus joined themselves, the warders of Oechalia,

sons of Eurytus the ruthless, Eurytus, to whom the Far-shooting god

gave his bow; but he had no joy of the gift; for of his own choice he

strove even with the giver.

After them came the sons of Aeacus, not both together, nor from the

same spot; for they settled far from Aegina in exile, when in their

folly they had slain their brother Phoeus. Telamon dwelt in the Attic

island; but Peleus departed and made his home in Phthia.

After them from Cecropia came warlike Butes, son of brave Teleon, and

Phalerus of the ashen spear. Alcon his father sent him forth; yet no

other sons had he to care for his old age and livelihood. But him, his

well-beloved and only son, he sent forth that amid bold heroes he might

shine conspicuous. But Theseus, who surpassed all the sons of

Erechtheus, an unseen bond kept beneath the land of Taenarus, for he

had followed that path with Peirithous; assuredly both would have

lightened for all the fulfilment of their toil.

Tiphys, son of Hagnias, left the Siphaean people of the Thespians, well

skilled to foretell the rising wave on the broad sea, and well skilled

to infer from sun and star the stormy winds and the time for sailing.

Tritonian Athena herself urged him to join the band of chiefs, and he

came among them a welcome comrade. She herself too fashioned the swift

ship; and with her Argus, son of Arestor, wrought it by her counsels.

Wherefore it proved the most excellent of all ships that have made

trial of the sea with oars.

After them came Phlias from Araethyrea, where he dwelt in affluence by

the favour of his father Dionysus, in his home by the springs of

Asopus.

From Argos came Talaus and Areius, sons of Bias, and mighty Leodocus,

all of whom Pero daughter of Neleus bare; on her account the Aeolid

Melampus endured sore affliction in the steading of Iphiclus.

Nor do we learn that Heracles of the mighty heart disregarded the eager

summons of Aeson’s son. But when he heard a report of the heroes’

gathering and had reached Lyrceian Argos from Arcadia by the road along

which he carried the boar alive that fed in the thickets of Lampeia,

near the vast Erymanthian swamp, the boar bound with chains he put down

from his huge shoulders at the entrance to the market-place of Mycenae;

and himself of his own will set out against the purpose of Eurystheus;

and with him went Hylas, a brave comrade, in the flower of youth, to

bear his arrows and to guard his bow.

Next to him came a scion of the race of divine Danaus, Nauplius. He was

the son of Clytonaeus son of Naubolus; Naubolus was son of Lernus;

Lernus we know was the son of Proetus son of Nauplius; and once Amymone

daughter of Danaus, wedded to Poseidon, bare Nauplius, who surpassed

all men in naval skill.

Idmon came last of all them that dwelt at Argos, for though he had

learnt his own fate by augury, he came, that the people might not

grudge him fair renown. He was not in truth the son of Abas, but Leto’s

son himself begat him to be numbered among the illustrious Aeolids; and

himself taught him the art of prophecy—to pay heed to birds and to

observe the signs of the burning sacrifice.

Moreover Aetolian Leda sent from Sparta strong Polydeuces and Castor,

skilled to guide swift-footed steeds; these her dearly-loved sons she

bare at one birth in the house of Tyndareus; nor did she forbid their

departure; for she had thoughts worthy of the bride of Zeus.

The sons of Aphareus, Lynceus and proud Idas, came from Arene, both

exulting in their great strength; and Lynceus too excelled in keenest

sight, if the report is true that that hero could easily direct his

sight even beneath the earth.

And with them Neleian Periclymenus set out to come, eldest of all the

sons of godlike Neleus who were born at Pylos; Poseidon had given him

boundless strength and granted him that whatever shape he should crave

during the fight, that he should take in the stress of battle.

Moreover from Arcadia came Amphidamas and Cepheus, who inhabited Tegea

and the allotment of Apheidas, two sons of Aldus; and Ancaeus followed

them as the third, whom his father Lycurgus sent, the brother older

than both. But he was left in the city to care for Aleus now growing

old, while he gave his son to join his brothers. Antaeus went clad in

the skin of a Maenalian bear, and wielding in his right hand a huge

two-edged battleaxe. For his armour his grandsire had hidden in the

house’s innermost recess, to see if he might by some means still stay

his departure.

There came also Augeias, whom fame declared to be the son of Helios; he

reigned over the Eleans, glorying in his wealth; and greatly he desired

to behold the Colchian land and Aeetes himself the ruler of the

Colchians.

Asterius and Amphion, sons of Hyperasius, came from Achaean Pellene,

which once Pelles their grandsire founded on the brows of Aegialus.

After them from Taenarus came Euphemus whom, most swift-footed of men,

Europe, daughter of mighty Tityos, bare to Poseidon. He was wont to

skim the swell of the grey sea, and wetted not his swift feet, but just

dipping the tips of his toes was borne on the watery path.

Yea, and two other sons of Poseidon came; one Erginus, who left the

citadel of glorious Miletus, the other proud Ancaeus, who left

Parthenia, the seat of Imbrasion Hera; both boasted their skill in

seacraft and in war.

After them from Calydon came the son of Oeneus, strong Meleagrus, and

Laocoon—Laocoon the brother of Oeneus, though not by the same mother,

for a serving-woman bare him; him, now growing old, Oeneus sent to

guard his son: thus Meleagrus, still a youth, entered the bold band of

heroes. No other had come superior to him, I ween, except Heracles, if

for one year more he had tarried and been nurtured among the Aetolians.

Yea, and his uncle, well skilled to fight whether with the javelin or

hand to hand, Iphiclus son of Thestius, bare him company on his way.

With him came Palaemonius, son of Olenian Lernus, of Lernus by repute,

but his birth was from Hephaestus; and so he was crippled in his feet,

but his bodily frame and his valour no one would dare to scorn.

Wherefore he was numbered among all the chiefs, winning fame for Jason.

From the Phocians came Iphitus sprung from Naubolus son of Ornytus;

once he had been his host when Jason went to Pytho to ask for a

response concerning his voyage; for there he welcomed him in his own

hails.

Next came Zetes and Calais, sons of Boreas, whom once Oreithyia,

daughter of Erechtheus, bare to Boreas on the verge of wintry Thrace;

thither it was that Thracian Boreas snatched her away from Cecropia as

she was whirling in the dance, hard by Hissus’ stream. And, carrying

her far off, to the spot that men called the rock of Sarpedon, near the

river Erginus, he wrapped her in dark clouds and forced her to his

will. There they were making their dusky wings quiver upon their ankles

on both sides as they rose, a great wonder to behold, wings that

gleamed with golden scales: and round their backs from the top of the

head and neck, hither and thither, their dark tresses were being shaken

by the wind.

No, nor had Acastus son of mighty Pelias himself any will to stay

behind in the palace of his brave sire, nor Argus, helper of the

goddess Athena; but they too were ready to be numbered in the host.

So many then were the helpers who assembled to join the son of Aeson.

All the chiefs the dwellers thereabout called Minyae, for the most and

the bravest avowed that they were sprung from the blood of the

daughters of Minyas; thus Jason himself was the son of Alcimede who was

born of Clymene the daughter of Minyas.

Now when all things had been made ready by the thralls, all things that

fully-equipped ships are furnished withal when men’s business leads

them to voyage across the sea, then the heroes took their way through

the city to the ship where it lay on the strand that men call Magnesian

Pagasae; and a crowd of people hastening rushed together; but the

heroes shone like gleaming stars among the clouds; and each man as he

saw them speeding along with their armour would say:

“King Zeus, what is the purpose of Pelias? Whither is he driving forth

from the Panachaean land so great a host of heroes? On one day they

would waste the palace of Aeetes with baleful fire, should he not yield

them the fleece of his own goodwill. But the path is not to be shunned,

the toil is hard for those who venture.”

Thus they spake here and there throughout the city; but the women often

raised their hands to the sky in prayer to the immortals to grant a

return, their hearts’ desire. And one with tears thus lamented to her

fellow:

“Wretched Alcimede, evil has come to thee at last though late, thou

hast not ended with splendour of life. Aeson too, ill-fated man! Surely

better had it been for him, if he were lying beneath the earth,

enveloped in his shroud, still unconscious of bitter toils. Would that

the dark wave, when the maiden Helle perished, had overwhelmed Phrixus

too with the ram; but the dire portent even sent forth a human voice,

that it might cause to Alcimede sorrows and countless pains hereafter.”

Thus the women spake at the departure of the heroes. And now many

thralls, men and women, were gathered together, and his mother, smitten

with grief for Jason. And a bitter pang seized every woman’s heart; and

with them groaned the father in baleful old age, lying on his bed,

closely wrapped round. But the hero straightway soothed their pain,

encouraging them, and bade the thralls take up his weapons for war; and

they in silence with downcast looks took them up. And even as the

mother had thrown her arms about her son, so she clung, weeping without

stint, as a maiden all alone weeps, falling fondly on the neck of her

hoary nurse, a maid who has now no others to care for her, but she

drags on a weary life under a stepmother, who maltreats her continually

with ever fresh insults, and as she weeps, her heart within her is

bound fast with misery, nor can she sob forth all the groans that

struggle for utterance; so without stint wept Alcimede straining her

son in her arms, and in her yearning grief spake as follows:

“Would that on that day when, wretched woman that I am, I heard King

Pelias proclaim his evil behest, I had straightway given up my life and

forgotten my cares, so that thou thyself, my son, with thine own hands,

mightest have buried me; for that was the only wish left me still to be

fulfilled by time, all the other rewards for thy nurture have I long

enjoyed. Now I, once so admired among Achaean women, shall be left

behind like a bondwoman in my empty halls, pining away, ill-fated one,

for love of thee, thee on whose account I had aforetime so much

splendour and renown, my only son for whom I loosed my virgin zone

first and last. For to me beyond others the goddess Eileithyia grudged

abundant offspring. Alas for my folly! Not once, not even in nay dreams

did I forebode this, that the flight of Phrixus would bring me woe.”

Thus with moaning she wept, and her handmaidens, standing by, lamented;

but Jason spake gently to her with comforting words:

“Do not, I pray thee, mother, store up bitter sorrows overmuch, for

thou wilt not redeem me from evil by tears, but wilt still add grief to

grief. For unseen are the woes that the gods mete out to mortals; be

strong to endure thy share of them though with grief in thy heart; take

courage from the promises of Athena, and from the answers of the gods

(for very favourable oracles has Phoebus given), and then from the help

of the chieftains. But do thou remain here, quiet among thy handmaids,

and be not a bird of ill omen to the ship; and thither my clansmen and

thralls will follow me.”

He spake, and started forth to leave the house. And as Apollo goes

forth from some fragrant shrine to divine Delos or Claros or Pytho or

to broad Lyeia near the stream of Xanthus, in such beauty moved Jason

through the throng of people; and a cry arose as they shouted together.

And there met him aged Iphias, priestess of Artemis guardian of the

city, and kissed his right hand, but she had not strength to say a

word, for all her eagerness, as the crowd rushed on, but she was left

there by the wayside, as the old are left by the young, and he passed

on and was gone afar.

Now when he had left the well-built streets of the city, he came to the

beach of Pagasae, where his comrades greeted him as they stayed

together near the ship Argo. And he stood at the entering in, and they

were gathered to meet him. And they perceived Aeastus and Argus coming

from the city, and they marvelled when they saw them hasting with all

speed, despite the will of Pelias. The one, Argus, son of Arestor, had

cast round his shoulders the hide of a bull reaching to his feet, with

the black hair upon it, the other, a fair mantle of double fold, which

his sister Pelopeia had given him. Still Jason forebore from asking

them about each point but bade all be seated for an assembly. And

there, upon the folded sails and the mast as it lay on the ground, they

all took their seats in order. And among them with goodwill spake

Aeson’s son:

“All the equipment that a ship needs for all is in due order—lies ready

for our departure. Therefore we will make no long delay in our sailing

for these things’ sake, when the breezes but blow fair. But,

friends,—for common to all is our return to Hellas hereafter, and

common to all is our path to the land of Aeetes—now therefore with

ungrudging heart choose the bravest to be our leader, who shall be

careful for everything, to take upon him our quarrels and covenants

with strangers.”

Thus he spake; and the young heroes turned their eyes towards bold

Heracles sitting in their midst, and with one shout they all enjoined

upon him to be their leader; but he, from the place where he sat,

stretched forth his right hand and said:

“Let no one offer this honour to me. For I will not consent, and I will

forbid any other to stand up. Let the hero who brought us together,

himself be the leader of the host.”

Thus he spake with high thoughts, and they assented, as Heracles bade;

and warlike Jason himself rose up, glad at heart, and thus addressed

the eager throng:

“If ye entrust your glory to my care, no longer as before let our path

be hindered. Now at last let us propitiate Phoebus with sacrifice and

straightway prepare a feast. And until my thralls come, the overseers

of my steading, whose care it is to choose out oxen from the herd and

drive them hither, we will drag down the ship to the sea, and do ye

place all the tackling within, and draw lots for the benches for

rowing. Meantime let us build upon the beach an altar to Apollo

Embasius[5] who by an oracle promised to point out and show me the

paths of the sea, if by sacrifice to him I should begin my venture for

King Pelias.”

He spake, and was the first to turn to the work, and they stood up in

obedience to him; and they heaped their garments, one upon the other,

on a smooth stone, which the sea did not strike with its waves, but the

stormy surge had cleansed it long before. First of all, by the command

of Argus, they strongly girded the ship with a rope well twisted

within,[6] stretching it tight on each side, in order that the planks

might be well compacted by the bolts and might withstand the opposing

force of the surge. And they quickly dug a trench as wide as the space

the ship covered, and at the prow as far into the sea as it would run

when drawn down by their hands. And they ever dug deeper in front of

the stem, and in the furrow laid polished rollers; and inclined the

ship down upon the first rollers, that so she might glide and be borne

on by them. And above, on both sides, reversing the oars, they fastened

them round the thole-pins, so as to project a cubit’s space. And the

heroes themselves stood on both sides at the oars in a row, and pushed

forward with chest and hand at once. And then Tiphys leapt on board to

urge the youths to push at the right moment; and calling on them he

shouted loudly; and they at once, leaning with all their strength, with

one push started the ship from her place, and strained with their feet,

forcing her onward; and Pelian Argo followed swiftly; and they on each

side shouted as they rushed on. And then the rollers groaned under the

sturdy keel as they were chafed, and round them rose up a dark smoke

owing to the weight, and she glided into the sea; but the heroes stood

there and kept dragging her back as she sped onward. And round the

thole-pins they fitted the oars, and in the ship they placed the mast

and the well-made sails and the stores.

Now when they had carefully paid heed to everything, first they

distributed the benches by lot, two men occupying one seat; but the

middle bench they chose for Heracles and Ancaeus apart from the other

heroes, Ancaeus who dwelt in Tegea. For them alone they left the middle

bench just as it was and not by lot; and with one consent they

entrusted Tiphys with guarding the helm of the well-stemmed ship.

Next, piling up shingle near the sea, they raised there an altar on the

shore to Apollo, under the name of Actius[7] and Embasius, and quickly

spread above it logs of dried olive-wood. Meantime the herdsmen of

Aeson’s son had driven before them from the herd two steers. These the

younger comrades dragged near the altars, and the others brought

lustral water and barley meal, and Jason prayed, calling on Apollo the

god of his fathers:

“Hear, O King, that dwellest in Pagasae and the city Aesonis, the city

called by my father’s name, thou who didst promise me, when I sought

thy oracle at Pytho, to show the fulfilment and goal of my journey, for

thou thyself hast been the cause of my venture; now do thou thyself

guide the ship with my comrades safe and sound, thither and back again

to Hellas. Then in thy honour hereafter we will lay again on thy altar

the bright offerings of bulls—all of us who return; and other gifts in

countless numbers I will bring to Pytho and Ortygia. And now, come,

Far-darter, accept this sacrifice at our hands, which first of all we

have offered thee for this ship on our embarcation; and grant, O King,

that with a prosperous wind I may loose the hawsers, relying on thy

counsel, and may the breeze blow softly with which we shall sail over

the sea in fair weather.”

He spake, and with his prayer cast the barley meal. And they two girded

themselves to slay the steers, proud Ancaeus and Heracles. The latter

with his club smote one steer mid-head on the brow, and falling in a

heap on the spot, it sank to the ground; and Ancaeus struck the broad

neck of the other with his axe of bronze, and shore through the mighty

sinews; and it fell prone on both its horns. Their comrades quickly

severed the victims’ throats, and flayed the hides: they sundered the

joints and carved the flesh, then cut out the sacred thigh bones, and

covering them all together closely with fat burnt them upon cloven

wood. And Aeson’s son poured out pure libations, and Idmon rejoiced

beholding the flame as it gleamed on every side from the sacrifice, and

the smoke of it mounting up with good omen in dark spiral columns; and

quickly he spake outright the will of Leto’s son:

“For you it is the will of heaven and destiny that ye shall return here

with the fleece; but meanwhile both going and returning, countless

trials await you. But it is my lot, by the hateful decree of a god, to

die somewhere afar off on the mainland of Asia. Thus, though I learnt

my fate from evil omens even before now, I have left my fatherland to

embark on the ship, that so after my embarking fair fame may be left me

in my house.”

Thus he spake; and the youths hearing the divine utterance rejoiced at

their return, but grief seized them for the fate of Idmon. Now at the

hour when the sun passes his noon-tide halt and the ploughlands are

just being shadowed by the rocks, as the sun slopes towards the evening

dusk, at that hour all the heroes spread leaves thickly upon the sand

and lay down in rows in front of the hoary surf-line; and near them

were spread vast stores of viands and sweet wine, which the cupbearers

had drawn off in pitchers; afterwards they told tales one to another in

turn, such as youths often tell when at the feast and the bowl they

take delightful pastime, and insatiable insolence is far away. But here

the son of Aeson, all helpless, was brooding over each event in his

mind, like one oppressed with thought. And Idas noted him and assailed

him with loud voice:

“Son of Aeson, what is this plan thou art turning over in mind. Speak

out thy thought in the midst. Does fear come on and master thee, fear,

that confounds cowards? Be witness now my impetuous spear, wherewith in

wars I win renown beyond all others (nor does Zeus aid me so much as my

own spear), that no woe will be fatal, no venture will be unachieved,

while Idas follows, even though a god should oppose thee. Such a

helpmeet am I that thou bringest from Arene.”

He spake, and holding a brimming goblet in both hands drank off the

unmixed sweet wine; and his lips and dark cheeks were drenched with it;

and all the heroes clamoured together and Idmon spoke out openly:

“Vain wretch, thou art devising destruction for thyself before the

time. Does the pure wine cause thy bold heart to swell in thy breast to

thy ruin, and has it set thee on to dishonour the gods? Other words of

comfort there are with which a man might encourage his comrade; but

thou hast spoken with utter recklessness. Such taunts, the tale goes,

did the sons of Aloeus once blurt out against the blessed gods, and

thou dost no wise equal them in valour; nevertheless they were both

slain by the swift arrows of Leto’s son, mighty though they were.”

Thus he spake, and Aphareian Iclas laughed out, loud and long, and

eyeing him askance replied with biting words:

“Come now, tell me this by thy prophetic art, whether for me too the

gods will bring to pass such doom as thy father promised for the sons

of Aloeus. And bethink thee how thou wilt escape from my hands alive,

if thou art caught making a prophecy vain as the idle wind.”

Thus in wrath Idas reviled him, and the strife would have gone further

had not their comrades and Aeson’s son himself with indignant cry

restrained the contending chiefs; and Orpheus lifted his lyre in his

left hand and made essay to sing.

He sang how the earth, the heaven and the sea, once mingled together in

one form, after deadly strife were separated each from other; and how

the stars and the moon and the paths of the sun ever keep their fixed

place in the sky; and how the mountains rose, and how the resounding

rivers with their nymphs came into being and all creeping things. And

he sang how first of all Ophion and Eurynome, daughter of Ocean, held

the sway of snowy Olympus, and how through strength of arm one yielded

his prerogative to Cronos and the other to Rhea, and how they fell into

the waves of Ocean; but the other two meanwhile ruled over the blessed

Titan-gods, while Zeus, still a child and with the thoughts of a child,

dwelt in the Dictaean cave; and the earthborn Cyclopes had not yet

armed him with the bolt, with thunder and lightning; for these things

give renown to Zeus.

He ended, and stayed his lyre and divine voice. But though he had

ceased they still bent forward with eagerness all hushed to quiet, with

ears intent on the enchanting strain; such a charm of song had he left

behind in their hearts. Not long after they mixed libations in honour

of Zeus, with pious rites as is customary, and poured them upon the

burning tongues, and bethought them of sleep in the darkness.

Now when gleaming dawn with bright eyes beheld the lofty peaks of

Pelion, and the calm headlands were being drenched as the sea was

ruffled by the winds, then Tiphys awoke from sleep; and at once he

roused his comrades to go on board and make ready the oars. And a

strange cry did the harbour of Pagasae utter, yea and Pelian Argo

herself, urging them to set forth. For in her a beam divine had been

laid which Athena had brought from an oak of Dodona and fitted in the

middle of the stem. And the heroes went to the benches one after the

other, as they had previously assigned for each to row in his place,

and took their seats in due order near their fighting gear. In the

middle sat Antaeus and mighty Heracles, and near him he laid his club,

and beneath his tread the ship’s keel sank deep. And now the hawsers

were being slipped and they poured wine on the sea. But Jason with

tears held his eyes away from his fatherland. And just as youths set up

a dance in honour of Phoebus either in Pytho or haply in Ortygia, or by

the waters of Ismenus, and to the sound of the lyre round his altar all

together in time beat the earth with swiftly-moving feet; so they to

the sound of Orpheus’ lyre smote with their oars the rushing sea-water,

and the surge broke over the blades; and on this side and on that the

dark brine seethed with foam, boiling terribly through the might of the

sturdy heroes. And their arms shone in the sun like flame as the ship

sped on; and ever their wake gleamed white far behind, like a path seen

over a green plain. On that day all the gods looked down from heaven

upon the ship and the might of the heroes, half-divine, the bravest of

men then sailing the sea; and on the topmost heights the nymphs of

Pelion wondered as they beheld the work of Itonian Athena, and the

heroes themselves wielding the oars. And there came down from the

mountain-top to the sea Chiron, son of Philyra, and where the white

surf broke he dipped his feet, and, often waving with his broad hand,

cried out to them at their departure, “Good speed and a sorrowless

home-return!” And with him his wife, bearing Peleus’ son Achilles on

her arm, showed the child to his dear father.

Now when they had left the curving shore of the harbour through the

cunning and counsel of prudent Tiphys son of Hagnias, who skilfully

handled the well-polished helm that he might guide them steadfastly,

then at length they set up the tall mast in the mastbox, and secured it

with forestays, drawing them taut on each side, and from it they let

down the sail when they had hauled it to the top-mast. And a breeze

came down piping shrilly; and upon the deck they fastened the ropes

separately round the well-polished pins, and ran quietly past the long

Tisaean headland. And for them the son of Oeagrus touched his lyre and

sang in rhythmical song of Artemis, saviour of ships, child of a

glorious sire, who hath in her keeping those peaks by the sea, and the

land of Iolcos; and the fishes came darting through the deep sea, great

mixed with small, and followed gambolling along the watery paths. And

as when in the track of the shepherd, their master, countless sheep

follow to the fold that have fed to the full of grass, and he goes

before gaily piping a shepherd’s strain on Iris shrill reed; so these

fishes followed; and a chasing breeze ever bore the ship onward.

And straightway the misty land of the Pelasgians, rich in cornfields,

sank out of sight, and ever speeding onward they passed the rugged

sides of Pelion; and the Sepian headland sank away, and Sciathus

appeared in the sea, and far off appeared Piresiae and the calm shore

of Magnesia on the mainland and the tomb of Dolops; here then in the

evening, as the wind blew against them, they put to land, and paying

honour to him at nightfall burnt sheep as victims, while the sea was

tossed by the swell: and for two days they lingered on the shore, but

on the third day they put forth the ship, spreading on high the broad

sail. And even now men call that beach Aphetae[8] of Argo.

Thence going forward they ran past Meliboea, escaping a stormy beach

and surf-line. And in the morning they saw Homole close at hand leaning

on the sea, and skirted it, and not long after they were about to pass

by the outfall of the river Amyrus. From there they beheld Eurymenae

and the seawashed ravines of Ossa and Olympus; next they reached the

slopes of Pallene, beyond the headland of Canastra, running all night

with the wind. And at dawn before them as they journeyed rose Athos,

the Thracian mountain, which with its topmost peak overshadows Lemnos,

even as far as Myrine, though it lies as far off as the space that a

well-trimmed merchantship would traverse up to mid-day. For them on

that day, till darkness fell, the breeze blew exceedingly fresh, and

the sails of the ship strained to it. But with the setting of the sun

the wind left them, and it was by the oars that they reached Lemnos,

the Sintian isle.

Here the whole of the men of the people together had been ruthlessly

slain through the transgressions of the women in the year gone by. For

the men had rejected their lawful wives, loathing them, and had

conceived a fierce passion for captive maids whom they themselves

brought across the sea from their forays in Thrace; for the terrible

wrath of Cypris came upon them, because for a long time they had

grudged her the honours due. O hapless women, and insatiate in jealousy

to their own ruin! Not their husbands alone with the captives did they

slay on account of the marriage-bed, but all the males at the same

time, that they might thereafter pay no retribution for the grim

murder. And of all the women, Hypsipyle alone spared her aged father

Thoas, who was king over the people; and she sent him in a hollow

chest, to drift over the sea, if haply he should escape. And fishermen

dragged him to shore at the island of Oenoe, formerly Oenoe, but

afterwards called Sicinus from Sicinus, whom the water-nymph Oenoe bore

to Thoas. Now for all the women to tend kine, to don armour of bronze,

and to cleave with the plough-share the wheat-bearing fields, was

easier than the works of Athena, with which they were busied aforetime.

Yet for all that did they often gaze over the broad sea, in grievous

fear against the Thracians’ coming. So when they saw Argo being rowed

near the island, straightway crowding in multitude from the gates of

Myrine and clad in their harness of war, they poured forth to the beach

like ravening Thyiades: for they deemed that the Thracians were come;

and with them Hypsipyle, daughter of Thoas, donned her father’s

harness. And they streamed down speechless with dismay; such fear was

wafted about them.

Meantime from the ship the chiefs had sent Aethalides the swift herald,

to whose care they entrusted their messages and the wand of Hermes, his

sire, who had granted him a memory of all things, that never grew dim;

and not even now, though he has entered the unspeakable whirlpools of

Acheron, has forgetfulness swept over his soul, but its fixed doom is

to be ever changing its abode; at one time to be numbered among the

dwellers beneath the earth, at another to be in the light of the sun

among living men. But why need I tell at length tales of Aethalides? He

at that time persuaded Hypsipyle to receive the new-comers as the day

was waning into darkness; nor yet at dawn did they loose the ship’s

hawsers to the breath of the north wind.

Now the Lemnian women fared through the city and sat down to the

assembly, for Hypsipyle herself had so bidden. And when they were all

gathered together in one great throng straightway she spake among them

with stirring words:

“O friends, come let us grant these men gifts to their hearts’ desire,

such as it is fitting that they should take on ship-board, food and

sweet wine, in order that they may steadfastly remain outside our

towers, and may not, passing among us for need’s sake, get to know us

all too well, and so an evil report be widely spread; for we have

wrought a terrible deed and in nowise will it be to their liking,

should they learn it. Such is our counsel now, but if any of you can

devise a better plan let her rise, for it was on this account that I

summoned you hither.”

Thus she spake and sat upon her father’s seat of stone, and then rose

up her dear nurse Polyxo, for very age halting upon her withered feet,

bowed over a staff, and she was eager to address them. Near her were

seated four virgins, unwedded, crowned with white hair. And she stood

in the midst of the assembly and from her bent back she feebly raised

her neck and spake thus:

“Gifts, as Hypsipyle herself wishes, let us send to the strangers, for

it is better to give them. But for you what device have ye to get

profit of your life if the Thracian host fall upon us, or some other

foe, as often happens among men, even as now this company is come

unforeseen? But if one of the blessed gods should turn this aside yet

countless other woes, worse than battle, remain behind, when the aged

women die off and ye younger ones, without children, reach hateful old

age. How then will ye live, hapless ones? Will your oxen of their own

accord yoke themselves for the deep plough-lands and draw the

earth-cleaving share through the fallow, and forthwith, as the year

comes round, reap the harvest? Assuredly, though the fates till now

have shunned me in horror, I deem that in the coming year I shall put

on the garment of earth, when I have received my meed of burial even so

as is right, before the evil days draw near. But I bid you who are

younger give good heed to this. For now at your feet a way of escape

lies open, if ye trust to the strangers the care of your homes and all

your stock and your glorious city.”

Thus she spake, and the assembly was filled with clamour. For the word

pleased them. And after her straightway Hypsipyle rose up again, and

thus spake in reply.

“If this purpose please you all, now will I even send a messenger to

the ship.”

She spake and addressed Iphinoe close at hand: “Go, Iphinoe, and beg

yonder man, whoever it is that leads this array, to come to our land

that I may tell him a word that pleases the heart of my people, and bid

the men themselves, if they wish, boldly enter the land and the city

with friendly intent.”

She spake, and dismissed the assembly, and thereafter started to return

home. And so Iphinoe came to the Minyae; and they asked with what

intent she had come among them. And quickly she addressed her

questioners with all speed in these words:

“The maiden Hypsipyle daughter of Thoas, sent me on my way here to you,

to summon the captain of your ship, whoever he be, that she may tell

him a word that pleases the heart of the people, and she bids

yourselves, if ye wish it, straightway enter the land and the city with

friendly intent.”

Thus she spake and the speech of good omen pleased all. And they deemed

that Thoas was dead and that his beloved daughter Hypsipyle was queen,

and quickly they sent Jason on his way and themselves made ready to go.

Now he had buckled round his shoulders a purple mantle of double fold,

the work of the Tritonian goddess, which Pallas had given him when she

first laid the keel-props of the ship Argo and taught him how to

measure timbers with the rule. More easily wouldst thou cast thy eyes

upon the sun at its rising than behold that blazing splendour. For

indeed in the middle the fashion thereof was red, but at the ends it

was all purple, and on each margin many separate devices had been

skilfully inwoven.

In it were the Cyclops seated at their imperishable work, forging a

thunderbolt for King Zeus; by now it was almost finished in its

brightness and still it wanted but one ray, which they were beating out

with their iron hammers as it spurted forth a breath of raging flame.

In it too were the twin sons of Antiope, daughter of Asopus, Amphion

and Zethus, and Thebe still ungirt with towers was lying near, whose

foundations they were just then laying in eager haste. Zethus on his

shoulders was lifting the peak of a steep mountain, like a man toiling

hard, and Amphion after him, singing loud and clear on his golden lyre,

moved on, and a rock twice as large followed his footsteps.

Next in order had been wrought Cytherea with drooping tresses, wielding

the swift shield of Ares; and from her shoulder to her left arm the

fastening of her tunic was loosed beneath her breast; and opposite in

the shield of bronze her image appeared clear to view as she stood.

And in it there was a well-wooded pasturage of oxen; and about the oxen

the Teleboae and the sons of Eleetryon were fighting; the one party

defending themselves, the others, the Taphian raiders, longing to rob

them; and the dewy meadow was drenched with their blood, and the many

were overmastering the few herdsmen.

And therein were fashioned two chariots, racing, and the one in front

Pelops was guiding, as he shook the reins, and with him was Hippodameia

at his side, and in pursuit Myrtilus urged his steeds, and with him

Oenomaus had grasped his couched spear, but fell as the axle swerved

and broke in the nave, while he was eager to pierce the back of Pelops.

And in it was wrought Phoebus Apollo, a stripling not yet grown up, in

the act of shooting at mighty Tityos who was boldly dragging his mother

by her veil, Tityos whom glorious Elate bare, but Earth nursed him and

gave him second birth.

And in it was Phrixus the Minyan as though he were in very deed

listening to the ram, while it was like one speaking. Beholding them

thou wouldst be silent and wouldst cheat thy soul with the hope of

hearing some wise speech from them, and long wouldst thou gaze with

that hope.

Such then were the gifts of the Tritonian goddess Athena. And in his

right hand Jason held a fardarting spear, which Atalanta gave him once

as a gift of hospitality in Maenalus as she met him gladly; for she

eagerly desired to follow on that quest; but he himself of his own

accord prevented the maid, for he feared bitter strife on account of

her love.

And he went on his way to the city like to a bright star, which

maidens, pent up in new-built chambers, behold as it rises above their

homes, and through the dark air it charms their eyes with its fair red

gleam and the maid rejoices, love-sick for the youth who is far away

amid strangers, for whom her parents are keeping her to be his bride;

like to that star the hero trod the way to the city. And when they had

passed within the gates and the city, the women of the people surged

behind them, delighting in the stranger, but he with his eyes fixed on

the ground fared straight on, till he reached the glorious palace of

Hypsipyle; and when he appeared the maids opened the folding doors,

fitted with well-fashioned panels. Here Iphinoe leading him quickly

through a fair porch set him upon a shining seat opposite her mistress,

but Hypsipyle turned her eyes aside and a blush covered her maiden

cheeks, yet for all her modesty she addressed him with crafty words:

“Stranger, why stay ye so long outside our towers? for the city is not

inhabited by the men, but they, as sojourners, plough the wheat-bearing

fields of the Thracian mainland. And I will tell out truly all our evil

plight, that ye yourselves too may know it well. When my father Thoas

reigned over the citizens, then our folk starting from their homes used

to plunder from their ships the dwellings of the Thracians who live

opposite, and they brought back hither measureless booty and maidens

too. But the counsel of the baneful goddess Cypris was working out its

accomplishment, who brought upon them soul destroying infatuation. For

they hated their lawful wives, and, yielding to their own mad folly,

drove them from their homes; and they took to their beds the captives

of their spear, cruel ones. Long in truth we endured it, if haply

again, though late, they might change their purpose, but ever the

bitter woe grew, twofold. And the lawful children were being

dishonoured in their halls, and a bastard race was rising. And thus

unmarried maidens and widowed mothers too wandered uncared for through

the city; no father heeded his daughter ever so little even though he

should see her done to death before his eyes at the hands of an

insolent step-dame, nor did sons, as before, defend their mother

against unseemly outrage; nor did brothers care at heart for their

sister. But in their homes, in the dance, in the assembly and the

banquet all their thought was only for their captive maidens; until

some god put desperate courage in our hearts no more to receive our

lords on their return from Thrace within our towers so that they might

either heed the right or might depart and begone elsewhither, they and

their captives. So they begged of us all the male children that were

left in the city and went back to where even now they dwell on the

snowy tilths of Thrace. Do ye therefore stay and settle with us; and

shouldst thou desire to dwell here, and this finds favour with thee,

assuredly thou shalt have the prerogative of my father Thoas; and I

deem that thou wilt not scorn our land at all; for it is deepsoiled

beyond all other islands that lie in the Aegaean sea. But come now,

return to the ship and relate my words to thy comrades, and stay not

outside our city.”

She spoke, glozing over the murder that had been wrought upon the men;

and Jason addressed her in answer:

“Hypsipyle, very dear to our hearts is the help we shall meet with,

which thou grantest to us who need thee. And I will return again to the

city when I have told everything in order due. But let the sovereignty

of the island be thine; it is not in scorn I yield it up, but grievous

trials urge me on.”

He spake, and touched her right hand; and quickly he turned to go back:

and round him the young maids on every side danced in countless numbers

in their joy till he passed through the gates. And then they came to

the shore in smooth-running wains, bearing with them many gifts, when

now he had related from beginning to end the speech which Hypsipyle had

spoken when she summoned them; and the maids readily led the men back

to their homes for entertainment. For Cypris stirred in them a sweet

desire, for the sake of Hephaestus of many counsels, in order that

Lemnos might be again inhabited by men and not be ruined.

Thereupon Aeson’s son started to go to the royal home of Hypsipyle; and

the rest went each his way as chance took them, all but Heracles; for

he of his own will was left behind by the ship and a few chosen

comrades with him. And straightway the city rejoiced with dances and

banquets, being filled with the steam of sacrifice; and above all the

immortals they propitiated with songs and sacrifices the illustrious

son of Hera and Cypris herself. And the sailing was ever delayed from

one day to another; and long would they have lingered there, had not

Heracles, gathering together his comrades apart from the women, thus

addressed them with reproachful words:

“Wretched men, does the murder of kindred keep us from our native land?

Or is it in want of marriage that we have come hither from thence, in

scorn of our countrywomen? Does it please us to dwell here and plough

the rich soil of Lemnos? No fair renown shall we win by thus tarrying

so long with stranger women; nor will some god seize and give us at our

prayer a fleece that moves of itself. Let us then return each to his

own; but him leave ye to rest all day long in the embrace of Hypsipyle

until he has peopled Lemnos with men-children, and so there come to him

great glory.”

Thus did he chide the band; but no one dared to meet his eye or to

utter a word in answer. But just as they were in the assembly they made

ready their departure in all haste, and the women came running towards

them, when they knew their intent. And as when bees hum round fair

lilies pouring forth from their hive in the rock, and all around the

dewy meadow rejoices, and they gather the sweet fruit, flitting from

one to another; even so the women eagerly poured forth clustering round

the men with loud lament, and greeted each one with hands and voice,

praying the blessed gods to grant him a safe return. And so Hypsipyle

too prayed, seizing the hands of Aeson’s son, and her tears flowed for

the loss of her lover:

“Go, and may heaven bring thee back again with thy comrades unharmed,

bearing to the king the golden fleece, even as thou wilt and thy heart

desireth; and this island and my father’s sceptre will be awaiting

thee, if on thy return hereafter thou shouldst choose to come hither

again; and easily couldst thou gather a countless host of men from

other cities. But thou wilt not have this desire, nor do I myself

forbode that so it will be. Still remember Hypsipyle when thou art far

away and when thou hast returned; and leave me some word of bidding,

which I will gladly accomplish, if haply heaven shall grant me to be a

mother.”

And Aeson’s son in admiration thus replied: “Hypsipyle, so may all

these things prove propitious by the favour of the blessed gods. But do

thou hold a nobler thought of me, since by the grace of Pelias it is

enough for me to dwell in my native land; may the gods only release me

from my toils. But if it is not my destiny to sail afar and return to

the land of Hellas, and if thou shouldst bear a male child, send him

when grown up to Pelasgian Iolcus, to heal the grief of my father and

mother if so be that he find them still living, in order that, far away

from the king, they may be cared for by their own hearth in their

home.”

He spake, and mounted the ship first of all; and so the rest of the

chiefs followed, and, sitting in order, seized the oars; and Argus

loosed for them the hawsers from under the sea-beaten rock. Whereupon

they mightily smote the water with their long oars, and in the evening

by the injunctions of Orpheus they touched at the island of Electra,[9]

daughter of Atlas, in order that by gentle initiation they might learn

the rites that may not be uttered, and so with greater safety sail over

the chilling sea. Of these I will make no further mention; but I bid

farewell to the island itself and the indwelling deities, to whom

belong those mysteries, which it is not lawful for me to sing.

Thence did they row with eagerness over the depths of the black Sea,

having on the one side the land of the Thracians, on the other Imbros

on the south; and as the sun was just setting they reached the foreland

of the Chersonesus. There a strong south wind blew for them; and

raising the sails to the breeze they entered the swift stream of the

maiden daughter of Athamas; and at dawn the sea to the north was left

behind and at night they were coasting inside the Rhoeteian shore, with

the land of Ida on their right. And leaving Dardania they directed

their course to Abydus, and after it they sailed past Percote and the

sandy beach of Abarnis and divine Pityeia. And in that night, as the

ship sped on by sail and oar, they passed right through the Hellespont

dark-gleaming with eddies.

There is a lofty island inside the Propontis, a short distance from the

Phrygian mainland with its rich cornfields, sloping to the sea, where

an isthmus in front of the mainland is flooded by the waves, so low

does it lie. And the isthmus has double shores, and they lie beyond the

river Aesepus, and the inhabitants round about call the island the

Mount of Bears. And insolent and fierce men dwell there, Earthborn, a

great marvel to the neighbours to behold; for each one has six mighty

hands to lift up, two from his sturdy shoulders, and four below,

fitting close to his terrible sides. And about the isthmus and the

plain the Doliones had their dwelling, and over them Cyzicus son of

Aeneus was king, whom Aenete the daughter of goodly Eusorus bare. But

these men the Earthborn monsters, fearful though they were, in nowise

harried, owing to the protection of Poseidon; for from him had the

Doliones first sprung. Thither Argo pressed on, driven by the winds of

Thrace, and the Fair haven received her as she sped. There they cast

away their small anchorstone by the advice of Tiphys and left it

beneath a fountain, the fountain of Artaeie; and they took another meet

for their purpose, a heavy one; but the first, according to the oracle

of the Far-Darter, the Ionians, sons of Neleus, in after days laid to

be a sacred stone, as was right, in the temple of Jasonian Athena.

Now the Doliones and Cyzicus himself all came together to meet them

with friendliness, and when they knew of the quest and their lineage

welcomed them with hospitality, and persuaded them to row further and

to fasten their ship’s hawsers at the city harbour. Here they built an

altar to Ecbasian Apollo[10] and set it up on the beach, and gave heed

to sacrifices. And the king of his own bounty gave them sweet wine and

sheep in their need; for he had heard a report that whenever a godlike

band of heroes should come, straightway he should meet it with gentle

words and should have no thought of war. As with Jason, the soft down

was just blooming on his chin, nor yet had it been his lot to rejoice

in children, but still in his palace his wife was untouched by the

pangs of child-birth, the daughter of Percosian Merops, fair-haired

Cleite, whom lately by priceless gifts he had brought from her father’s

home from the mainland opposite. But even so he left his chamber and

bridal bed and prepared a banquet among the strangers, casting all

fears from his heart. And they questioned one another in turn. Of them

would he learn the end of their voyage and the injunctions of Pelias;

while they enquired about the cities of the people round and all the

gulf of the wide Propontis; but further he could not tell them for all

their desire to learn. In the morning they climbed mighty Dindymum that

they might themselves behold the various paths of that sea; and they

brought their ship from its former anchorage to the harbour, Chytus;

and the path they trod is named the path of Jason.

But the Earthborn men on the other side rushed down from the mountain

and with crags below blocked up the mouth of vast Chytus towards the

sea, like men lying in wait for a wild beast within. But there Heracles

had been left behind with the younger heroes and he quickly bent his

back-springing bow against the monsters and brought them to earth one

after another; and they in their turn raised huge ragged rocks and

hurled them. For these dread monsters too, I ween, the goddess Hera,

bride of Zeus, had nurtured to be a trial for Heracles. And therewithal

came the rest of the martial heroes returning to meet the foe before

they reached the height of outlook, and they fell to the slaughter of

the Earthborn, receiving them with arrows and spears until they slew

them all as they rushed fiercely to battle. And as when woodcutters

cast in rows upon the beach long trees just hewn down by their axes, in

order that, once sodden with brine, they may receive the strong bolts;

so these monsters at the entrance of the foam-fringed harbour lay

stretched one after another, some in heaps bending their heads and

breasts into the salt waves with their limbs spread out above on the

land; others again were resting their heads on the sand of the shore

and their feet in the deep water, both alike a prey to birds and fishes

at once.

But the heroes, when the contest was ended without fear, loosed the

ship’s hawsers to the breath of the wind and pressed on through the

sea-swell. And the ship sped on under sail all day; but when night came

the rushing wind did not hold steadfast, but contrary blasts caught

them and held them back till they again approached the hospitable

Doliones. And they stepped ashore that same night; and the rock is

still called the Sacred Rock round which they threw the ship’s hawsers

in their haste. Nor did anyone note with care that it was the same

island; nor in the night did the Doliones clearly perceive that the

heroes were returning; but they deemed that Pelasgian war-men of the

Macrians had landed. Therefore they donned their armour and raised

their hands against them. And with clashing of ashen spears and shields

they fell on each other, like the swift rush of fire which falls on dry

brushwood and rears its crest; and the din of battle, terrible and

furious, fell upon the people of the Doliones. Nor was the king to

escape his fate and return home from battle to his bridal chamber and

bed. But Aeson’s son leapt upon him as he turned to face him, and smote

him in the middle of the breast, and the bone was shattered round the

spear; he rolled forward in the sand and filled up the measure of his

fate. For that no mortal may escape; but on every side a wide snare

encompasses us. And so, when he thought that he had escaped bitter

death from the chiefs, fate entangled him that very night in her toils

while battling with them; and many champions withal were slain;

Heracles killed Telecles and Megabrontes, and Acastus slew Sphodris;

and Peleus slew Zelus and Gephyrus swift in war. Telamon of the strong

spear slew Basileus. And Idas slew Promeus, and Clytius Hyacinthus, and

the two sons of Tyndareus slew Megalossaces and Phlogius. And after

them the son of Oeneus slew bold Itomeneus, and Artaceus, leader of

men; all of whom the inhabitants still honour with the worship due to

heroes. And the rest gave way and fled in terror just as doves fly in

terror before swift-winged hawks. And with a din they rustled in a body

to the gates; and quickly the city was filled with loud cries at the

turning of the dolorous fight. But at dawn both sides perceived the

fatal and cureless error; and bitter grief seized the Minyan heroes

when they saw before them Cyzicus son of Aeneus fallen in the midst of

dust and blood. And for three whole days they lamented and rent their

hair, they and the Dollones. Then three times round his tomb they paced

in armour of bronze and performed funeral rites and celebrated games,

as was meet, upon the meadow-plain, where even now rises the mound of

his grave to be seen by men of a later day. No, nor was his bride

Cleite left behind her dead husband, but to crown the ill she wrought

an ill yet more awful, when she clasped a noose round her neck. Her

death even the nymphs of the grove bewailed; and of all the tears for

her that they shed to earth from their eyes the goddesses made a

fountain, which they call Cleite,[11] the illustrious name of the

hapless maid. Most terrible came that day from Zeus upon the Doliones,

women and men; for no one of them dared even to taste food, nor for a

long time by reason of grief did they take thought for the toil of the

cornmill, but they dragged on their lives eating their food as it was,

untouched by fire. Here even now, when the Ionians that dwell in

Cyzicus pour their yearly libations for the dead, they ever grind the

meal for the sacrificial cakes at the common mill.[12]

After this, fierce tempests arose for twelve days and nights together

and kept them there from sailing. But in the next night the rest of the

chieftains, overcome by sleep, were resting during the latest period of

the night, while Acastus and Mopsus the son of Ampyeus kept guard over

their deep slumbers. And above the golden head of Aeson’s son there

hovered a halcyon prophesying with shrill voice the ceasing of the

stormy winds; and Mopsus heard and understood the cry of the bird of

the shore, fraught with good omen. And some god made it turn aside, and

flying aloft it settled upon the stern-ornament of the ship. And the

seer touched Jason as he lay wrapped in soft sheepskins and woke him at

once, and thus spake:

“Son of Aeson, thou must climb to this temple on rugged Dindymum and

propitiate the mother[13] of all the blessed gods on her fair throne,

and the stormy blasts shall cease. For such was the voice I heard but

now from the halcyon, bird of the sea, which, as it flew above thee in

thy slumber, told me all. For by her power the winds and the sea and

all the earth below and the snowy seat of Olympus are complete; and to

her, when from the mountains she ascends the mighty heaven, Zeus

himself, the son of Cronos, gives place. In like manner the rest of the

immortal blessed ones reverence the dread goddess.”

Thus he spake, and his words were welcome to Jason’s ear. And he arose

from his bed with joy and woke all his comrades hurriedly and told them

the prophecy of Mopsus the son of Ampycus. And quickly the younger men

drove oxen from their stalls and began to lead them to the mountain’s

lofty summit. And they loosed the hawsers from the sacred rock and

rowed to the Thracian harbour; and the heroes climbed the mountain,

leaving a few of their comrades in the ship. And to them the Macrian

heights and all the coast of Thrace opposite appeared to view close at

hand. And there appeared the misty mouth of Bosporus and the Mysian

hills; and on the other side the stream of the river Aesepus and the

city and Nepeian plain of Adrasteia. Now there was a sturdy stump of

vine that grew in the forest, a tree exceeding old; this they cut down,

to be the sacred image of the mountain goddess; and Argus smoothed it

skilfully, and they set it upon that rugged hill beneath a canopy of

lofty oaks, which of all trees have their roots deepest. And near it

they heaped an altar of small stones, and wreathed their brows with oak

leaves and paid heed to sacrifice, invoking the mother of Dindymum,

most venerable, dweller in Phrygia, and Titias and Cyllenus, who alone

of many are called dispensers of doom and assessors of the Idaean

mother,—the Idaean Dactyls of Crete, whom once the nymph Anchiale, as

she grasped with both hands the land of Oaxus, bare in the Dictaean

cave. And with many prayers did Aeson’s son beseech the goddess to turn

aside the stormy blasts as he poured libations on the blazing

sacrifice; and at the same time by command of Orpheus the youths trod a

measure dancing in full armour, and clashed with their swords on their

shields, so that the ill-omened cry might be lost in the air the wail

which the people were still sending up in grief for their king. Hence

from that time forward the Phrygians propitiate Rhea with the wheel and

the drum. And the gracious goddess, I ween, inclined her heart to pious

sacrifices; and favourable signs appeared. The trees shed abundant

fruit, and round their feet the earth of its own accord put forth

flowers from the tender grass. And the beasts of the wild wood left

their lairs and thickets and came up fawning on them with their tails.

And she caused yet another marvel; for hitherto there was no flow of

water on Dindymum, but then for them an unceasing stream gushed forth

from the thirsty peak just as it was, and the dwellers around in after

times called that stream, the spring of Jason. And then they made a

feast in honour of the goddess on the Mount of Bears, singing the

praises of Rhea most venerable; but at dawn the winds had ceased and

they rowed away from the island.

Thereupon a spirit of contention stirred each chieftain, who should be

the last to leave his oar. For all around the windless air smoothed the

swirling waves and lulled the sea to rest. And they, trusting in the

calm, mightily drove the ship forward; and as she sped through the salt

sea, not even the storm-footed steeds of Poseidon would have overtaken

her. Nevertheless when the sea was stirred by violent blasts which were

just rising from the rivers about evening, forspent with toil, they

ceased. But Heracles by the might of his arms pulled the weary rowers

along all together, and made the strong-knit timbers of the ship to

quiver. But when, eager to reach the Mysian mainland, they passed along

in sight of the mouth of Rhyndaeus and the great cairn of Aegaeon, a

little way from Phrygia, then Heracles, as he ploughed up the furrows

of the roughened surge, broke his oar in the middle. And one half he

held in both his hands as he fell sideways, the other the sea swept

away with its receding wave. And he sat up in silence glaring round;

for his hands were unaccustomed to be idle.

Now at the hour when from the field some delver or ploughman goes

gladly home to his hut, longing for his evening meal, and there on the

threshold, all squalid with dust, bows his wearied knees, and,

beholding his hands worn with toil, with many a curse reviles his

belly; at that hour the heroes reached the homes of the Cianian land

near the Arganthonian mount and the outfall of Cius. Them as they came

in friendliness, the Mysians, inhabitants of that land, hospitably

welcomed, and gave them in their need provisions and sheep and abundant

wine. Hereupon some brought dried wood, others from the meadows leaves

for beds which they gathered in abundance for strewing, whilst others

were twirling sticks to get fire; others again were mixing wine in the

bowl and making ready the feast, after sacrificing at nightfall to

Apollo Ecbasius.

But the son of Zeus having duly enjoined on his comrades to prepare the

feast took his way into a wood, that he might first fashion for himself

an oar to fit his hand. Wandering about he found a pine not burdened

with many branches, nor too full of leaves, but like to the shaft of a

tall poplar; so great was it both in length and thickness to look at.

And quickly he laid on the ground his arrow-holding quiver together

with his bow, and took off his lion’s skin. And he loosened the pine

from the ground with his bronze-tipped club and grasped the trunk with

both hands at the bottom, relying on his strength; and he pressed it

against his broad shoulder with legs wide apart; and clinging close he

raised it from the ground deep-rooted though it was, together with

clods of earth. And as when unexpectedly, just at the time of the

stormy setting of baleful Orion, a swift gust of wind strikes down from

above, and wrenches a ship’s mast from its stays, wedges and all; so

did Heracles lift the pine. And at the same time he took up his bow and

arrows, his lion skin and club, and started on his return.

Meantime Hylas with pitcher of bronze in hand had gone apart from the

throng, seeking the sacred flow of a fountain, that he might be quick

in drawing water for the evening meal and actively make all things

ready in due order against his lord’s return. For in such ways did

Heracles nurture him from his first childhood when he had carried him

off from the house of his father, goodly Theiodamas, whom the hero

pitilessly slew among the Dryopians because he withstood him about an

ox for the plough. Theiodamas was cleaving with his plough the soil of

fallow land when he was smitten with the curse; and Heracles bade him

give up the ploughing ox against his will. For he desired to find some

pretext for war against the Dryopians for their bane, since they dwelt

there reckless of right. But these tales would lead me far astray from

my song. And quickly Hylas came to the spring which the people who

dwell thereabouts call Pegae. And the dances of the nymphs were just

now being held there; for it was the care of all the nymphs that

haunted that lovely headland ever to hymn Artemis in songs by night.

All who held the mountain peaks or glens, all they were ranged far off

guarding the woods; but one, a water-nymph was just rising from the

fair-flowing spring; and the boy she perceived close at hand with the

rosy flush of his beauty and sweet grace. For the full moon beaming

from the sky smote him. And Cypris made her heart faint, and in her

confusion she could scarcely gather her spirit back to her. But as soon

as he dipped the pitcher in the stream, leaning to one side, and the

brimming water rang loud as it poured against the sounding bronze,

straightway she laid her left arm above upon his neck yearning to kiss

his tender mouth; and with her right hand she drew down his elbow, and

plunged him into the midst of the eddy.

Alone of his comrades the hero Polyphemus, son of Eilatus, as he went

forward on the path, heard the boy’s cry, for he expected the return of

mighty Heracles. And he rushed after the cry, near Pegae, like some

beast of the wild wood whom the bleating of sheep has reached from

afar, and burning with hunger he follows, but does not fall in with the

flocks; for the shepherds beforehand have penned them in the fold, but

he groans and roars vehemently until he is weary. Thus vehemently at

that time did the son of Eilatus groan and wandered shouting round the

spot; and his voice rang piteous. Then quickly drawing his great sword

he started in pursuit, in fear lest the boy should be the prey of wild

beasts, or men should have lain in ambush for him faring all alone, and

be carrying him off, an easy prey. Hereupon as he brandished his bare

sword in his hand he met Heracles himself on the path, and well he knew

him as he hastened to the ship through the darkness. And straightway he

told the wretched calamity while his heart laboured with his panting

breath.

“My poor friend, I shall be the first to bring thee tidings of bitter

woe. Hylas has gone to the well and has not returned safe, but robbers

have attacked and are carrying him off, or beasts are tearing him to

pieces; I heard his cry.”

Thus he spake; and when Heracles heard his words, sweat in abundance

poured down from his temples and the black blood boiled beneath his

heart. And in wrath he hurled the pine to the ground and hurried along

the path whither his feet bore on his impetuous soul. And as when a

bull stung by a gadfly tears along, leaving the meadows and the marsh

land, and recks not of herdsmen or herd, but presses on, now without

cheek, now standing still, and raising his broad neck he bellows

loudly, stung by the maddening fly; so he in his frenzy now would ply

his swift knees unresting, now again would cease from toil and shout

afar with loud pealing cry.

But straightway the morning star rose above the topmost peaks and the

breeze swept down; and quickly did Tiphys urge them to go aboard and

avail themselves of the wind. And they embarked eagerly forthwith; and

they drew up the ship’s anchors and hauled the ropes astern. And the

sails were bellied out by the wind, and far from the coast were they

joyfully borne past the Posideian headland. But at the hour when

gladsome dawn shines from heaven, rising from the east, and the paths

stand out clearly, and the dewy plains shine with a bright gleam, then

at length they were aware that unwittingly they had abandoned those

men. And a fierce quarrel fell upon them, and violent tumult, for that

they had sailed and left behind the bravest of their comrades. And

Aeson’s son, bewildered by their hapless plight, said never a word,

good or bad; but sat with his heavy load of grief, eating out his

heart. And wrath seized Telamon, and thus he spake:

“Sit there at thy ease, for it was fitting for thee to leave Heracles

behind; from thee the project arose, so that his glory throughout

Hellas should not overshadow thee, if so be that heaven grants us a

return home. But what pleasure is there in words? For I will go, I

only, with none of thy comrades, who have helped thee to plan this

treachery.”

He spake, and rushed upon Tiphys son of Hagnias; and his eyes sparkled

like flashes of ravening flame. And they would quickly have turned back

to the land of the Mysians, forcing their way through the deep sea and

the unceasing blasts of the wind, had not the two sons of Thracian

Boreas held back the son of Aeacus with harsh words. Hapless ones,

assuredly a bitter vengeance came upon them thereafter at the hands of

Heracles, because they stayed the search for him. For when they were

returning from the games over Pelias dead he slew them in sea-girt

Tenos and heaped the earth round them, and placed two columns above,

one of which, a great marvel for men to see, moves at the breath of the

blustering north wind. These things were thus to be accomplished in

after times. But to them appeared Glaucus from the depths of the sea,

the wise interpreter of divine Nereus, and raising aloft his shaggy

head and chest from his waist below, with sturdy hand he seized the

ship’s keel, and then cried to the eager crew:

“Why against the counsel of mighty Zeus do ye purpose to lead bold

Heracles to the city of Aeetes? At Argos it is his fate to labour for

insolent Eurystheus and to accomplish full twelve toils and dwell with

the immortals, if so be that he bring to fulfilment a few more yet;

wherefore let there be no vain regret for him. Likewise it is destined

for Polyphemus to found a glorious city at the mouth of Cius among the

Mysians and to fill up the measure of his fate in the vast land of the

Chalybes. But a goddess-nymph through love has made Hylas her husband,

on whose account those two wandered and were left behind.”

He spake, and with a plunge wrapped him about with the restless wave;

and round him the dark water foamed in seething eddies and dashed

against the hollow ship as it moved through the sea. And the heroes

rejoiced, and Telamon son of Aeacus came in haste to Jason, and

grasping his hand in his own embraced him with these words:

“Son of Aeson, be not wroth with me, if in my folly I have erred, for

grief wrought upon me to utter a word arrogant and intolerable. But let

me give my fault to the winds and let our hearts be joined as before.”

Him the son of Aeson with prudence addressed: “Good friend, assuredly

with an evil word didst thou revile me, saying before them all that I

was the wronger of a kindly man. But not for long will I nurse bitter

wrath, though indeed before I was grieved. For it was not for flocks of

sheep, no, nor for possessions that thou wast angered to fury, but for

a man, thy comrade. And I were fain thou wouldst even champion me

against another man if a like thing should ever befall me.”

He spake, and they sat down, united as of old. But of those two, by the

counsel of Zeus, one, Polyphemus son of Eilatus, was destined to found

and build a city among the Mysians bearing the river’s name, and the

other, Heracles, to return and toil at the labours of Eurystheus. And

he threatened to lay waste the Mysian land at once, should they not

discover for him the doom of Hylas, whether living or dead. And for him

they gave pledges choosing out the noblest sons of the people and took

an oath that they would never cease from their labour of search.

Therefore to this day the people of Cius enquire for Hylas the son of

Theiodamas, and take thought for the well-built Trachis. For there did

Heracles settle the youths whom they sent from Cius as pledges.

And all day long and all night the wind bore the ship on, blowing fresh

and strong; but when dawn rose there was not even a breath of air. And

they marked a beach jutting forth from a bend of the coast, very broad

to behold, and by dint of rowing came to land at sunrise.