sleep, upon fragrant leaves of bay, and myrtle, and marjoram, and flowers
of thyme; and rose at the dawn, and bathed in the torrent, and became a
school-fellow to the heroes’ sons, and forgot Iolcos, and his father, and
all his former life. But he grew strong, and brave, and cunning, upon the
pleasant downs of Pelion, in the keen hungry mountain air. And he learned
to wrestle, and to box, and to hunt, and to play upon the harp; and next
he learned to ride, for old Chiron used to mount him on his back; and he
learned the virtues of all herbs, and how to cure all wounds; and Chiron
called him Jason the healer, and that is his name until this day.
HOW JASON LOST HIS SANDAL
By Charles Kingsley
Ten years came and went, and Jason was grown to be a mighty man. Some of
his fellows were gone, and some were growing up by his side. Æsculapius
was gone into Peloponnesus to work his wondrous cures on men; and some
say he used to raise the dead to life. And Hercules was gone to Thebes to
fulfil those famous labors which have become a proverb among men. Peleus
had married a sea-nymph, and his wedding is famous to this day. And Æneas
was gone home to Troy, and many a noble tale you will read of him, and of
all the other gallant heroes, the scholars of Chiron the just.
Now it happened on a day that Jason stood on the mountain, and looked
north and south and east and west; and Chiron stood by him and watched
him, for he knew that the time was come. And Jason looked and saw the
plains of Thessaly, where the Lapithæ breed their horses; and the lake
of Boibé, and the stream which runs northward to Peneus and Tempe; and
he looked north, and saw the mountain wall which guards the Magnesian
shore; Olympus, the seat of the Immortals, and Ossa, and Pelion, where he
stood. Then he looked east and saw the bright blue sea, which stretched
away forever toward the dawn. Then he looked south, and saw a pleasant
land, with white-walled towns and farms, nestling along the shore of a
land-locked bay, while the smoke rose blue among the trees; and he knew
it for the bay of Pagasai, and the rich lowlands of Hæmonia, and Iolcos
by the sea.
Then he sighed, and asked, “Is it true what the heroes tell me—that I am
heir of that fair land?”
“And what good would it be to you, Jason, if you were heir of that fair
land?”
“I would take it and keep it.”
“A strong man has taken it and kept it long. Are you stronger than Pelias
the terrible?”
“I can try my strength with his,” said Jason; but Chiron sighed, and said:
“You have many a danger to go through before you rule in Iolcos by the
sea: many a danger and many a woe; and strange troubles in strange lands,
such as man never saw before.”
“The happier I,” said Jason, “to see what man never saw before.”
And Chiron sighed again, and said, “The eaglet must leave the nest
when it is fledged. Will you go to Iolcos by the sea? Then promise me
two things before you go.” Jason promised, and Chiron answered, “Speak
harshly to no soul whom you may meet, and stand by the word which you
shall speak.”
Jason wondered why Chiron asked this of him; but he knew that the Centaur
was a prophet, and saw things long before they came. So he promised, and
leaped down the mountain, to take his fortune like a man. He went down
through the arbutus thickets, and across the downs of thyme, till he came
to the vineyard walls, and the pomegranates and the olives in the glen;
and among the olives roared Anauros, all foaming with a summer flood.
And on the bank of Anauros sat a woman, all wrinkled, gray, and old, her
head shook palsied on her breast, and her hands shook palsied on her
knees; and when she saw Jason, she spoke whining, “Who will carry me
across the flood?”
Jason was bold and hasty, and was just going to leap into the flood: and
yet he thought twice before he leaped, so loud roared the torrent down,
all brown from the mountain rains, and silver-veined with melting snow;
while underneath he could hear the bowlders rumbling like the tramp of
horsemen or the roll of wheels, as they ground along the narrow channel,
and shook the rocks on which he stood.
But the old woman whined all the more, “I am weak and old, fair youth.
For Juno’s sake, carry me over the torrent.”
And Jason was going to answer her scornfully, when Chiron’s words came
to his mind. So he said, “For Juno’s sake, the Queen of the Immortals on
Olympus, I will carry you over the torrent, unless we both are drowned
midway.”
Then the old dame leaped upon his back, as nimbly as a goat; and Jason
staggered in, wondering; and the first step was up to his knees. The
first step was up to his knees, and the second step was up to his waist;
and the stones rolled about his feet, and his feet slipped about the
stones; so he went on staggering and panting, while the old woman cried
from off his back: “Fool, you have wet my mantle! Do you make game of
poor old souls like me?”
Jason had half a mind to drop her, and let her get through the torrent
by herself; but Chiron’s words were in his mind, and he said only,
“Patience, mother; the best horse may stumble some day.”
At last he staggered to the shore, and set her down upon the bank; and a
strong man he needed to have been or that wild water he never would have
crossed.
He lay panting awhile upon the bank, and then leaped up to go upon his
journey; but he cast one look at the old woman, for he thought, “She
should thank me once at least.” And as he looked, she grew fairer than
all women, and taller than all men on earth; and her garments shone like
the summer sea, and her jewels like the stars of heaven; and over her
forehead was a veil, woven of the golden clouds of sunset; and through
the veil she looked down on him, with great soft heifer’s eyes; with
great eyes, mild and awful, which filled all the glen with light. And
Jason fell upon his knees, and hid his face between his hands.
And she spoke, “I am the Queen of Olympus, Juno the wife of Jupiter. As
thou hast done to me, so will I do to thee. Call on me in the hour of
need, and try if the Immortals can forget.”
And when Jason looked up, she rose from off the earth, like a pillar
of tall white cloud, and floated away across the mountain peaks toward
Olympus, the holy hill.
Then a great fear fell on Jason: but after a while he grew light of
heart; and he blessed old Chiron, and said, “Surely the Centaur is a
prophet, and guessed what would come to pass, when he bade me speak
harshly to no soul whom I might meet.”
Then he went down toward Iolcos; and as he walked he found that he had
lost one of his sandals in the flood. And as he went through the streets,
the people came out to look at him, so tall and fair was he; but some of
the elders whispered together; and at last one of them stopped Jason, and
called to him, “Fair lad, who are you, and whence come you; and what is
your errand in the town?”
“My name, good father, is Jason, and I come from Pelion up above; and my
errand is to Pelias your king; tell me then where his palace is.”
But the old man started, and grew pale, and said, “Do you not know the
oracle, my son, that you go so boldly through the town with but one
sandal on?”
“I am a stranger here and know of no oracle; but what of my one sandal? I
lost the other in Anauros, while I was struggling with the flood.”
Then the old man looked back to his companions: and one sighed, and
another smiled; at last he said, “I will tell you, lest you rush upon
your ruin unawares. The oracle in Delphi has said that a man wearing one
sandal should take the kingdom from Pelias, and keep it for himself.
Therefore beware how you go up to his palace, for he is the fiercest and
most cunning of all kings.”
Then Jason laughed a great laugh, like a war-horse in his pride. “Good
news, good father, both for you and me. For that very end I came into
the town.” Then he strode on toward the palace of Pelias, while all the
people wondered at his bearing.
And he stood in the doorway and cried, “Come out, come out, Pelias the
valiant, and fight for your kingdom like a man.”
Pelias came out wondering, and “Who are you, bold youth?” he cried.
“I am Jason, the son of Æson, the heir of all this land.”
Then Pelias lifted up his hands and eyes, and wept, or seemed to weep;
and blessed the heavens which had brought his nephew to him, never to
leave him more. “For,” said he, “I have but three daughters, and no son
to be my heir. You shall be my heir then, and rule the kingdom after me,
and marry whichsoever of my daughters you shall choose; though a sad
kingdom you will find it, and whosoever rules it a miserable man. But
come in, come in, and feast.”
So he drew Jason in, whether he would or not, and spoke to him so
lovingly and feasted him so well, that Jason’s anger passed; and after
supper his three cousins came into the hall, and Jason thought that he
should like well enough to have one of them for his wife.
But at last he said to Pelias, “Why do you look so sad, my uncle? And
what did you mean just now when you said that this was a doleful kingdom,
and its ruler a miserable man?”
Pelias sighed heavily again and again and again, like a man who had to
tell some dreadful story, and was afraid to begin; but at last—“For seven
long years and more have I never known a quiet night; and no more will
he who comes after me, till the Golden Fleece be brought home.” Then he
told Jason the story of Phrixus, and of the Golden Fleece; and told him,
too, which was a lie, that Phrixus’ spirit tormented him, calling to him
day and night. And his daughters came, and told the same tale (for their
father had taught them their parts), and wept, and said, “Oh who will
bring home the Golden Fleece, that our uncle’s spirit may rest; and that
we may have rest also, whom he never lets sleep in peace?”
Jason sat awhile, sad and silent; for he had often heard of that Golden
Fleece; but he looked on it as a thing hopeless and impossible for any
mortal man to win.
But when Pelias saw him silent, he began to talk of other things, and
courted Jason more and more, speaking to him as if he was certain to be
his heir, and asking his advice about the kingdom; till Jason, who was
young and simple, could not help saying to himself, “Surely he is not the
dark man whom people call him. Yet why did he drive my father out?”
And he asked Pelias boldly, “Men say that you are terrible, and a man of
blood; but I find you a kind and hospitable man; and as you are to me, so
will I be to you. Yet why did you drive my father out?”
Pelias smiled, and sighed. “Men have slandered me in that, as in all
things. Your father was growing old and weary, and he gave the kingdom up
to me of his own will. You shall see him to-morrow, and ask him; and he
will tell you the same.”
Jason’s heart leaped in him when he heard that he was to see his father;
and he believed all that Pelias said, forgetting that his father might
not dare to tell the truth.
“One thing more there is,” said Pelias, “on which I need your advice;
for, though you are young, I see in you wisdom beyond your years. There
is one neighbor of mine, whom I dread more than all men on earth. I am
stronger than he now, and can command him; but I know that if he stay
among us, he will work my ruin in the end. Can you give me a plan, Jason,
by which I can rid myself of that man?”
After a while Jason answered, half laughing, “Were I you, I would send
him to fetch that same Golden Fleece; for if he once set forth after it
you would never be troubled with him more.”
A bitter smile came across Pelias’ lips, and a flash of wicked joy into
his eyes; and Jason saw it, and started; and over his mind came the
warning of the old man, and his own one sandal, and the oracle, and he
saw that he was taken in a trap. But Pelias only answered gently, “My
son, he shall be sent forthwith.”
“You mean me?” cried Jason, starting up, “because I came here with one
sandal?” And he lifted his fist angrily, while Pelias stood up to him
like a wolf at bay; and whether of the two was the stronger and the
fiercer it would be hard to tell.
But after a moment Pelias spoke gently, “Why then so rash, my son? You,
and not I, have said what is said; why blame me for what I have not done?
Had you bid me love the man of whom I spoke, and make him my son-in-law
and heir, I would have obeyed you; and what if I obey you now, and send
the man to win himself immortal fame? I have not harmed you, or him. One
thing at least I know, that he will go, and that gladly; for he has a
hero’s heart within him, loving glory, and scorning to break the word
which he has given.”
Jason saw that he was entrapped; but his second promise to Chiron came
into his mind, and he thought, “What if the Centaur were a prophet in
that also, and meant that I should win the fleece!” Then he cried aloud:
“You have well spoken, cunning uncle of mine! I love glory, and I dare
keep to my word. I will go and fetch this Golden Fleece. Promise me
but this in return, and keep your word as I keep mine. Treat my father
lovingly while I am gone, for the sake of all-seeing Jupiter, and give
me up the kingdom for my own on the day that I bring back the Golden
Fleece.”
Then Pelias looked at him and almost loved him, in the midst of all his
hate; and said, “I promise, and I will perform. It will be no shame to
give up my kingdom to the man who wins that fleece.”
Then they swore a great oath between them, and afterward both went in,
and lay down to sleep.
But Jason could not sleep for thinking of his mighty oath, and how he
was to fulfil it, all alone, and without wealth or friends. So he tossed
a long time upon his bed, and thought of this plan and of that; and
sometimes Phrixus seemed to call him, in a thin voice, faint and low, as
if it came from far across the sea, “Let me come home to my fathers and
have rest.” And sometimes he seemed to see the eyes of Juno, and to hear
her words again—“Call on me in the hour of need, and see if the Immortals
can forget.”
And on the morrow he went to Pelias, and said, “Give me a victim, that I
may sacrifice to Juno.” So he went up, and offered his sacrifice; and as
he stood by the altar Juno sent a thought into his mind; and he went back
to Pelias, and said:
“If you are indeed in earnest, give me two heralds, that they may go
round to all the princes of the Minuai, who were pupils of the Centaur
with me, that we may fit out a ship together, and take what shall befall.”
At that Pelias praised his wisdom, and hastened to send the heralds out;
for he said in his heart, “Let all the princes go with him, and, like
him, never return; for so I shall be lord of all the Minuai, and the
greatest king in Greece.”
HOW THEY BUILT THE SHIP “ARGO”
By Charles Kingsley
So the heralds went out, and cried to all the heroes of the Minuai, “Who
dare come to the adventure of the Golden Fleece?”
And Juno stirred the hearts of all the princes, and they came from all
their valleys to the yellow sands of Pagasai. And first came Hercules,
the mighty, with his lion’s skin and club, and behind him Hylas his
young squire, who bore his arrows and his bow; and Tiphys, the skilful
steersman; and Butes, the fairest of all men; and Castor and Pollux the
twins, the sons of the magic swan; and Cæneus, the strongest of mortals;
and thither came Zetes and Calais, the winged sons of the North Wind; and
Peleus, the father of Achilles, whose bride was silver-footed Thetis,
the goddess of the Sea. And thither came Telamon and Oileus, the fathers
of the two Aiantes, who fought upon the plains of Troy; and Mopsus,
the wise soothsayer, who knew the speech of birds; and Idmon, to whom
Phœbus gave a tongue to prophesy of things to come; and Ancaios, who
could read the stars; and Argus, the famed shipbuilder, and many a hero
more, in helmets of brass and gold with tall dyed horsehair crests, and
embroidered shirts of linen beneath their coats of mail, and greaves of
polished tin to guard their knees in fight; with each man his shield
upon his shoulder, of many a fold of tough bull’s hide, and his sword of
tempered bronze in his silver-studded belt; and in his right hand a pair
of lances, of the heavy white ash-staves.
[Illustration: JASON AND THE TALKING OAK—page 101
_From the painting by Maxfield Parrish_]
So they came down to Iolcos, and all the city came out to meet them,
and were never tired with looking at their height, and their beauty,
and their gallant bearing, and the glitter of their inlaid arms. And
some said, “Never was such a gathering of the heroes since the Greeks
conquered the land.” But the women sighed over them, and whispered,
“Alas! they are all going to their death!”
Then they felled the pines on Pelion, and shaped them with the axe, and
Argus taught them to build a galley, the first long ship which ever
sailed the seas. They pierced her for fifty oars—an oar for each hero of
the crew—and pitched her with coal-black pitch, and painted her bows with
vermilion; and they named her _Argo_ after Argus, and worked at her all
day long. And at night Pelias feasted them like a king, and they slept in
his palace-porch.
But Jason went away to the northward, and into the land of Thrace, till
he found Orpheus, the prince of minstrels, where he dwelt in his cave
under Rhodope, among the savage Cicon tribes. And he asked him, “Will you
leave your mountains, Orpheus, my fellow-scholar in old times, and cross
Strymon once more with me, to sail with the heroes of the Minuai, and
bring home the Golden Fleece, and charm for us all men and all monsters
with your magic harp and song?”
Then Orpheus sighed, “Have I not had enough of toil and of weary
wandering far and wide since I lived in Chiron’s cave, above Iolcos by
the sea? In vain is the skill and the voice which my goddess mother gave
me; in vain have I sung and labored; in vain I went down to the dead,
and charmed all the kings of Hades, to win back Eurydice my bride. For
I won her, my beloved, and lost her again the same day, and wandered
away in my madness, even to Egypt and the Libyan sands, and the isles of
all the seas, driven on by the terrible gadfly, while I charmed in vain
the hearts of men, and the savage forest beasts, and the trees, and the
lifeless stones, with my magic harp and song, giving rest, but finding
none. But at last Calliope, my mother, delivered me and brought me home
in peace; and I dwell here in the cave alone, among the savage Cicon
tribes, softening their wild hearts with music and the gentle laws of
Jupiter. And now I must go out again to the ends of all the earth, far
away into the misty darkness, to the last wave of the Eastern sea. But
what is doomed must be, and a friend’s demand obeyed; for prayers are the
daughters of Jupiter, and who honors them honors him.”
Then Orpheus rose up sighing, and took his harp, and went over Strymon.
And he led Jason to the southwest, up the banks of Haliacmon and over
the spurs of Pindus, to Dodona the town of Jupiter, where it stood by
the side of the sacred lake, and the fountain which breathed out fire,
in the darkness of the ancient oak-wood, beneath the mountain of the
hundred springs. And he led them to the Talking Oak, where the black dove
settled in old times, and was changed into the priestess of Jupiter, and
gave oracles to all nations round. And he bade him cut down a bough, and
sacrifice to Juno and to Jupiter, and they took the bough and came to
Iolcos, and nailed it to the beakhead of the ship.
At last the ship was finished and they tried to launch her down the
beach; but she was too heavy for them to move her, and her keel sank deep
into the sand. Then all the heroes looked at each other blushing; but
Jason spoke and said, “Let us ask the magic bough; perhaps it can help us
in our need.”
Then a voice came from the bough, and Jason heard the words it said, and
bade Orpheus play upon the harp, while the heroes waited round, holding
the pine-trunk rollers, to help her toward the sea.
So Orpheus took his harp, and began his magic song: “How sweet it is
to ride upon the surges, and to leap from wave to wave, while the wind
sings cheerful in the cordage, and the oars flash fast among the foam!
How sweet it is to roam across the ocean, and see new towns and wondrous
lands, and to come home laden with treasure, and to win undying fame!”
And the good ship _Argo_ heard him, and longed to be away and out at
sea; till she stirred in every timber, and heaved from stem to stern,
and leaped up from the sand upon the rollers, and plunged onward like
a gallant horse; and the heroes fed her path with pine-trunks, till she
rushed into the whispering sea.
Then they stored her well with food and water, and pulled the ladder up
on board, and settled themselves each man to his oar, and kept time to
Orpheus’ harp; and away across the bay they rowed southward, while the
people lined the cliffs; and the women wept, while the men shouted, at
the starting of that gallant crew.
HOW THE ARGONAUTS SAILED TO COLCHIS
By Charles Kingsley
What happened next, my children, whether it be true or not, stands
written in ancient songs, which you shall read for yourselves some day.
And grand old songs they are, written in grand old rolling verse; and
they call them the Songs of Orpheus, or the Orphics, to this day. They
tell how the heroes came to Aphetai, across the bay, and waited for the
southwest wind, and chose themselves a captain from their crew: and how
all called for Hercules, because he was the strongest and most huge; but
Hercules refused, and called for Jason, because he was the wisest of them
all. So Jason was chosen captain; and Orpheus heaped a pile of wood, and
slew a bull, and offered it to Juno, and called all the heroes to stand
round, each man’s head crowned with olive, and to strike their swords
into the bull. Then he filled a golden goblet with the bull’s blood,
and with wheaten flour, and honey, and wine, and the bitter salt-sea
water, and bade the heroes taste. So each tasted the goblet, and passed
it round, and vowed an awful vow: and they vowed before the sun, and the
night, and the blue-haired sea who shakes the land, to stand by Jason
faithfully in the adventure of the Golden Fleece; and whosoever shrank
back, or disobeyed, or turned traitor to his vow, then justice should
minister against him, and the Fates who track guilty men.
Then Jason lighted the pile, and burned the carcass of the bull; and they
went to their ship and sailed eastward, like men who have a work to do;
and the place from which they went was called Aphetai, the sailing-place
from that day forth. Three thousand years and more ago they sailed away,
into the unknown Eastern seas, and great nations have come and gone since
then, and many a storm has swept the earth; many a mighty armament, to
which _Argo_ would be but one small boat, English and French, Turkish
and Russian, have sailed those waters since, yet the fame of that small
_Argo_ lives forever, and her name is become a proverb among men.
So they sailed past the Isle of Sciathos, with the Cape of Sepius on
their left, and turned to the northward toward Pelion, up the long
Magnesian shore. On their right hand was the open sea, and on their left
old Pelion rose, while the clouds crawled round his dark pine-forests,
and his caps of summer snow. And their hearts yearned for the dear old
mountain, as they thought of pleasant days gone by, and of the sports of
their boyhood, their hunting, and their schooling in the cave beneath the
cliff. At last Peleus spoke, “Let us land here, friends, and climb the
dear old hill once more. We are going on a fearful journey; who knows if
we shall see Pelion again? Let us go up to Chiron our master, and ask his
blessing ere we start. And I have a boy, too, with him, whom he trains as
he trained me once—the son whom Thetis brought me, the silver-footed lady
of the sea, whom I caught in the cave, and tamed her, though she changed
her shape seven times. For she changed, as I held her, into water, and to
vapor, and to burning flame, and to a rock, and to a black-maned lion,
and to a tall and stately tree. But I held her and held her ever, till
she took her own shape again, and led her to my father’s house, and won
her for my bride. And all the rulers of Olympus came to our wedding, and
the heavens and the earth rejoiced together, when an Immortal wedded a
mortal man. And now let me see my son; for it is not often I shall see
him upon earth: famous he will be, but short-lived, and die in the flower
of youth.”
So Tiphys the helmsman steered them to the shore under the crag of
Pelion; and they went up through the dark pine-forests toward the
Centaur’s cave.
As they came into the misty hall, beneath the snow-crowned crag, they
saw the great Centaur lying, with his huge limbs spread upon the rocks;
and beside him stood Achilles, the child whom no steel could wound, and
played upon his harp right sweetly, while Chiron watched and smiled.