"Be silent, store not up such thoughts in thy heart, my child. Let the

son of Leto be my witness, he who of his gracious will taught me the

lore of prophecy, and be witness the ill-starred doom which possesses me

and this dark cloud upon my eyes, and the gods of the underworld--and

may their curse be upon me if I die perjured thus--no wrath from heaven

will fall upon you two for your help to me."

Then were those two eager to help him because of the oath. And quickly

the younger heroes prepared a feast for the aged man, a last prey for

the Harpies; and both stood near him, to smite with the sword those

pests when they swooped down. Scarcely had the aged man touched the food

when they forthwith, like bitter blasts or flashes of lightning,

suddenly darted from the clouds, and swooped down with a yell, fiercely

craving for food; and the heroes beheld them and shouted in the midst of

their onrush; but they at the cry devoured everything and sped away over

the sea afar; and an intolerable stench remained. And behind them the

two sons of Boreas raising their swords rushed in pursuit. For Zeus

imparted to them tireless strength; but without Zeus they could not have

followed, for the Harpies used ever to outstrip the blasts of the west

wind when they came to Phineus and when they left him. And as when, upon

the mountain-side, hounds, cunning in the chase, run in the track of

horned goats or deer, and as they strain a little behind gnash their

teeth upon the edge of their jaws in vain; so Zetes and Calais rushing

very near just grazed the Harpies in vain with their finger-tips. And

assuredly they would have torn them to pieces, despite heaven's will,

when they had overtaken them far off at the Floating Islands, had not

swift Iris seen them and leapt down from the sky from heaven above, and

checked them with these words:

"It is not lawful, O sons of Boreas, to strike with your swords the

Harpies, the hounds of mighty Zeus; but I myself will give you a pledge,

that hereafter they shall not draw near to Phineus."

With these words she took an oath by the waters of Styx, which to all

the gods is most dread and most awful, that the Harpies would never

thereafter again approach the home of Phineus, son of Agenor, for so it

was fated. And the heroes yielding to the oath, turned back their flight

to the ship. And on account of this men call them the Islands of Turning

though aforetime they called them the Floating Islands. And the Harpies

and Iris parted. They entered their den in Minoan Crete; but she sped up

to Olympus, soaring aloft on her swift wings.

Meanwhile the chiefs carefully cleansed the old man's squalid skin and

with due selection sacrificed sheep which they had borne away from the

spoil of Amycus. And when they had laid a huge supper in the hall, they

sat down and feasted, and with them feasted Phineus ravenously,

delighting his soul, as in a dream. And there, when they had taken their

fill of food and drink, they kept awake all night waiting for the sons

of Boreas. And the aged sire himself sat in the midst, near the hearth,

telling of the end of their voyage and the completion of their journey:

"Listen then. Not everything is it lawful for you to know clearly; but

whatever is heaven's will, I will not hide. I was infatuated aforetime,

when in my folly I declared the will of Zeus in order and to the end.

For he himself wishes to deliver to men the utterances of the prophetic

art incomplete, in order that they may still have some need to know the

will of heaven.

"First of all, after leaving me, ye will see the twin Cyanean rocks

where the two seas meet. No one, I ween, has won his escape between

them. For they are not firmly fixed with roots beneath, but constantly

clash against one another to one point, and above a huge mass of salt

water rises in a crest, boiling up, and loudly dashes upon the hard

beach. Wherefore now obey my counsel, if indeed with prudent mind and

reverencing the blessed gods ye pursue your way; and perish not

foolishly by a self-sought death, or rush on following the guidance of

youth. First entrust the attempt to a dove when ye have sent her forth

from the ship. And if she escapes safe with her wings between the rocks

to the open sea, then no more do ye refrain from the path, but grip your

oars well in your hands and cleave the sea's narrow strait, for the

light of safety will be not so much in prayer as in strength of hands.

Wherefore let all else go and labour boldly with might and main, but ere

then implore the gods as ye will, I forbid you not. But if she flies

onward and perishes midway, then do ye turn back; for it is better to

yield to the immortals. For ye could not escape an evil doom from the

rocks, not even if Argo were of iron.

"O hapless ones, dare not to transgress my divine warning, even though

ye think that I am thrice as much hated by the sons of heaven as I am,

and even more than thrice; dare not to sail further with your ship in

despite of the omen. And as these things will fall, so shall they fall.

But if ye shun the clashing rocks and come scatheless inside Pontus,

straightway keep the land of the Bithynians on your right and sail on,

and beware of the breakers, until ye round the swift river Rhebas and

the black beach, and reach the harbour of the Isle of Thynias. Thence ye

must turn back a little space through the sea and beach your ship on the

land of the Mariandyni lying opposite. Here is a downward path to the

abode of Hades, and the headland of Acherusia stretches aloft, and

eddying Acheron cleaves its way at the bottom, even through the

headland, and sends its waters forth from a huge ravine. And near it ye

will sail past many hills of the Paphlagonians, over whom at the first

Eneteian Pelops reigned, and of his blood they boast themselves to be.

"Now there is a headland opposite Helice the Bear, steep on all sides,

and they call it Carambis, about whose crests the blasts of the north

wind are sundered. So high in the air does it rise turned towards the

sea. And when ye have rounded it broad Aegialus stretches before you;

and at the end of broad Aegialus, at a jutting point of coast, the

waters of the river Halys pour forth with a terrible roar; and after it

Iris flowing near, but smaller in stream, rolls into the sea with white

eddies. Onward from thence the bend of a huge and towering cape reaches

out from the land, next Thermodon at its mouth flows into a quiet bay at

the Themiscyreian headland, after wandering through a broad continent.

And here is the plain of Doeas, and near are the three cities of the

Amazons, and after them the Chalybes, most wretched of men, possess a

soil rugged and unyielding--sons of toil, they busy themselves with

working iron. And near them dwell the Tibareni, rich in sheep, beyond

the Genetaean headland of Zeus, lord of hospitality. And bordering on it

the Mossynoeci next in order inhabit the well-wooded mainland and the

parts beneath the mountains, who have built in towers made from trees

their wooden homes and well-fitted chambers, which they call Mossynes,

and the people themselves take their name from them. After passing them

ye must beach your ship upon a smooth island, when ye have driven away

with all manner of skill the ravening birds, which in countless numbers

haunt the desert island. In it the Queens of the Amazons, Otrere and

Antiope, built a stone temple of Ares what time they went forth to war.

Now here an unspeakable help will come to you from the bitter sea;

wherefore with kindly intent I bid you stay. But what need is there that

I should sin yet again declaring everything to the end by my prophetic

art? And beyond the island and opposite mainland dwell the Philyres: and

above the Philyres are the Macrones, and after them the vast tribes of

the Becheiri. And next in order to them dwell the Sapeires, and the

Byzeres have the lands adjoining to them, and beyond them at last live

the warlike Colchians themselves. But speed on in your ship, till ye

touch the inmost bourne of the sea. And here at the Cytaean mainland and

from the Amarantine mountains far away and the Circaean plain eddying

Phasis rolls his broad stream to the sea. Guide your ship to the mouth

of that river and ye shall behold the towers of Cytaean Aeetes and the

shady grove of Ares, where a dragon, a monster terrible to behold, ever

glares around, keeping watch over the fleece that is spread upon the top

of an oak; neither by day nor by night does sweet sleep subdue his

restless eyes."

Thus he spake, and straightway fear seized them as they heard. And for a

long while they were struck with silence; till at last the hero, son of

Aeson, spake, sore dismayed at their evil plight:

"O aged sire, now hast thou come to the end of the toils of our

sea-journeying and hast told us the token, trusting to which we shall

make our way to Pontus through the hateful rocks; but whether, when we

have escaped them, we shall have a return back again to Hellas, this too

would we gladly learn from thee. What shall I do, how shall I go over

again such a long path through the sea, unskilled as I am, with

unskilled comrades? And Colchian Aea lies at the edge of Pontus and of

the world."

Thus he spake, and him the aged sire addressed in reply: "O son, when

once thou hast escaped through the deadly rocks, fear not; for a deity

will be the guide from Aea by another track; and to Aea there will be

guides enough. But, my friends, take thought of the artful aid of the

Cyprian goddess. For on her depends the glorious issue of your venture.

And further than this ask me not."

Thus spake Agenor's son, and close at hand the twin sons of Thracian

Boreas came darting from the sky and set their swift feet upon the

threshold; and the heroes rose up from their seats when they saw them

present. And Zetes, still drawing hard breath after his toil, spake

among the eager listeners, telling them how far they had driven the

Harpies and how Iris prevented their slaying them, and how the goddess

of her grace gave them pledges, and how those others in fear plunged

into the vast cave of the Dictaean cliff. Then in the mansion all their

comrades were joyful at the tidings and so was Phineus himself. And

quickly Aeson's son, with good will exceeding, addressed him:

"Assuredly there was then, Phineus, some god who cared for thy bitter

woe, and brought us hither from afar, that the sons of Boreas might aid

thee; and if too he should bring sight to thine eyes, verily I should

rejoice, methinks, as much as if I were on my homeward way."

Thus he spake, but Phineus replied to him with downcast look: "Son of

Aeson, that is past recall, nor is there any remedy hereafter, for

blasted are my sightless eyes. But instead of that, may the god grant me

death at once, and after death I shall take my share in perfect bliss."

Then they two returned answering speech, each to other, and soon in the

midst of their converse early dawn appeared; and round Phineus were

gathered the neighbours who used to come thither aforetime day by day

and constantly bring a portion of their food. To all alike, however poor

he was that came, the aged man gave his oracles with good will, and

freed many from their woes by his prophetic art; wherefore they visited

and tended him. And with them came Paraebius, who was dearest to him,

and gladly did he perceive these strangers in the house. For long ere

now the seer himself had said that a band of chieftains, faring from

Hellas to the city of Aeetes, would make fast their hawsers to the

Thynian land, and by Zeus' will would check the approach of the Harpies.

The rest the old man pleased with words of wisdom and let them go;

Paraebius only he bade remain there with the chiefs; and straightway he

sent him and bade him bring back the choicest of his sheep. And when he

had left the hall Phineus spake gently amid the throng of oarsmen:

"O my friends, not all men are arrogant, it seems, nor unmindful of

benefits. Even as this man, loyal as he is, came hither to learn his

fate. For when he laboured the most and toiled the most, then the needs

of life, ever growing more and more, would waste him, and day after day

ever dawned more wretched, nor was there any respite to his toil. But he

was paying the sad penalty of his father's sin. For he when alone on the

mountains, felling trees, once slighted the prayers of a Hamadryad, who

wept and sought to soften him with plaintive words, not to cut down the

stump of an oak tree coeval with herself, wherein for a long time she

had lived continually; but he in the arrogance of youth recklessly cut

it down. So to him the nymph thereafter made her death a curse, to him

and to his children. I indeed knew of the sin when he came; and I bid

him build an altar to the Thynian nymph, and offer on it an atoning

sacrifice, with prayer to escape his father's fate. Here, ever since he

escaped the god-sent doom, never has he forgotten or neglected me; but

sorely and against his will do I send him from my doors, so eager is he

to remain with me in my affliction."

Thus spake Agenor's son; and his friend straightway came near leading

two sheep from the flock. And up rose Jason and up rose the sons of

Boreas at the bidding of the aged sire. And quickly they called upon

Apollo, lord of prophecy, and offered sacrifice upon the hearth as the

day was just sinking. And the younger comrades made ready a feast to

their hearts' desire. Thereupon having well feasted they turned

themselves to rest, some near the ship's hawsers, others in groups

throughout the mansion. And at dawn the Etesian winds blew strongly,

which by the command of Zeus blow over every land equally.

Cyrene, the tale goes, once tended sheep along the marsh-meadow of

Peneus among men of old time; for dear to her were maidenhood and a

couch unstained. But, as she guarded her flock by the river, Apollo

carried her off far from Haemonia and placed her among the nymphs of the

land, who dwelt in Libya near the Myrtosian height. And here to Phoebus

she bore Aristaeus whom the Haemonians, rich in corn-land, call "Hunter"

and "Shepherd." Her, of his love, the god made a nymph there, of long

life and a huntress, and his son he brought while still an infant to be

nurtured in the cave of Cheiron. And to him when he grew to manhood the

Muses gave a bride, and taught him the arts of healing and of prophecy;

and they made him the keeper of their sheep, of all that grazed on the

Athamantian plain of Phthia and round steep Othrys and the sacred stream

of the river Apidanus. But when from heaven Sirius scorched the Minoan

Isles, and for long there was no respite for the inhabitants, then by

the injunction of the Far-Darter they summoned Aristaeus to ward off the

pestilence. And by his father's command he left Phthia and made his home

in Ceos, and gathered together the Parrhasian people who are of the

lineage of Lycaon, and he built a great altar to Zeus Icmaeus, and duly

offered sacrifices upon the mountains to that star Sirius, and to Zeus

son of Cronos himself. And on this account it is that Etesian winds from

Zeus cool the land for forty days, and in Ceos even now the priests

offer sacrifices before the rising of the Dog-star.

So the tale is told, but the chieftains stayed there by constraint, and

every day the Thynians, doing pleasure to Phineus, sent them gifts

beyond measure. And afterwards they raised an altar to the blessed

twelve on the sea-beach opposite and laid offerings thereon and then

entered their swift ship to row, nor did they forget to bear with them a

trembling dove; but Euphemus seized her and brought her all quivering

with fear, and they loosed the twin hawsers from the land.

Nor did they start unmarked by Athena, but straightway swiftly she set

her feet on a light cloud, which would waft her on, mighty though she

was, and she swept on to the sea with friendly thoughts to the oarsmen.

And as when one roveth far from his native land, as we men often wander

with enduring heart, nor is any land too distant but all ways are clear

to his view, and he sees in mind his own home, and at once the way over

sea and land seems plain, and swiftly thinking, now this way, now that,

he strains with eager eyes; so swiftly the daughter of Zeus darted down

and set her foot on the cheerless shore of Thynia.

Now when they reached the narrow strait of the winding passage, hemmed

in on both sides by rugged cliffs, while an eddying current from below

was washing against the ship as she moved on, they went forward sorely

in dread; and now the thud of the crashing rocks ceaselessly struck

their ears, and the sea-washed shores resounded, and then Euphemus

grasped the dove in his hand and started to mount the prow; and they, at

the bidding of Tiphys, son of Hagnias, rowed with good will to drive

Argo between the rocks, trusting to their strength. And as they rounded

a bend they saw the rocks opening for the last time of all. Their spirit

melted within them; and Euphemus sent forth the dove to dart forward in

flight; and they all together raised their heads to look; but she flew

between them, and the rocks again rushed together and crashed as they

met face to face. And the foam leapt up in a mass like a cloud; awful

was the thunder of the sea; and all round them the mighty welkin roared.

The hollow caves beneath the rugged cliffs rumbled as the sea came

surging in; and the white foam of the dashing wave spurted high above

the cliff. Next the current whirled the ship round. And the rocks shore

away the end of the dove's tail-feathers; but away she flew unscathed.

And the rowers gave a loud cry; and Tiphys himself called to them to row

with might and main. For the rocks were again parting asunder. But as

they rowed they trembled, until the tide returning drove them back

within the rocks. Then most awful fear seized upon all; for over their

head was destruction without escape. And now to right and left broad

Pontus was seen, when suddenly a huge wave rose up before them, arched,

like a steep rock; and at the sight they bowed with bended heads. For it

seemed about to leap down upon the ship's whole length and to overwhelm

them. But Tiphys was quick to ease the ship as she laboured with the

oars; and in all its mass the wave rolled away beneath the keel, and at

the stern it raised Argo herself and drew her far away from the rocks;

and high in air was she borne. But Euphemus strode among all his

comrades and cried to them to bend to their oars with all their might;

and they with a shout smote the water. And as far as the ship yielded to

the rowers, twice as far did she leap back, and the oars were bent like

curved bows as the heroes used their strength.

Then a vaulted billow rushed upon them, and the ship like a cylinder ran

on the furious wave plunging through the hollow sea. And the eddying

current held her between the clashing rocks; and on each side they shook

and thundered; and the ship's timbers were held fast. Then Athena with

her left hand thrust back one mighty rock and with her right pushed the

ship through; and she, like a winged arrow, sped through the air.

Nevertheless the rocks, ceaselessly clashing, shore off as she passed

the extreme end of the stern-ornament. But Athena soared up to Olympus,

when they had escaped unscathed. And the rocks in one spot at that

moment were rooted fast for ever to each other, which thing had been

destined by the blessed gods, when a man in his ship should have passed

between them alive. And the heroes breathed again after their chilling

fear, beholding at the same time the sky and the expanse of sea

spreading far and wide. For they deemed that they were saved from Hades;

and Tiphys first of all began to speak:

"It is my hope that we have safely escaped this peril--we, and the ship;

and none other is the cause so much as Athena, who breathed into Argo

divine strength when Argus knitted her together with bolts; and she may

not be caught. Son of Aeson, no longer fear thou so much the best of thy

king, since a god hath granted us escape between the rocks; for Phineus,

Agenor's son, said that our toils hereafter would be lightly

accomplished."

He spake, and at once he sped the ship onward through the midst of the

sea past the Bithynian coast. But Jason with gentle words addressed him

in reply: "Tiphys, why dost thou comfort thus my grieving heart? I have

erred and am distraught in wretched and helpless ruin. For I ought, when

Pelias gave the command, to have straightway refused this quest to his

face, yea, though I were doomed to die pitilessly, torn limb from limb,

but now I am wrapped in excessive fear and cares unbearable, dreading to

sail through the chilling paths of the sea, and dreading when we shall

set foot on the mainland. For on every side are unkindly men. And ever

when day is done I pass a night of groans from the time when ye first

gathered together for my sake, while I take thought for all things; but

thou talkest at thine ease, caring only for thine own life; while for

myself I am dismayed not a whit; but I fear for this man and for that

equally, and for thee, and for my other comrades, if I shall not bring

you back safe to the land of Hellas."

Thus he spake, making trial of the chiefs; but they shouted loud with

cheerful words. And his heart was warmed within him at their cry and

again he spake outright among them: "My friends, in your valour my

courage is quickened. Wherefore now, even though I should take my way

through the gulfs of Hades, no more shall I let fear seize upon me,

since ye are steadfast amid cruel terrors. But now that we have sailed

out from the striking rocks, I trow that never hereafter will there be

another such fearful thing, if indeed we go on our way following the

counsel of Phineus."

Thus he spake, and straightway they ceased from such words and gave

unwearying labour to the oar; and quickly they passed by the swiftly

flowing river Rhebas and the peak of Colone, and soon thereafter the

black headland, and near it the mouth of the river Phyllis, where

aforetime Dipsacus received in his home the son of Athamas, when with

his ram he was flying from the city of Orchomenus; and Dipsacus was the

son of a meadow-nymph, nor was insolence his delight, but contented by

his father's stream he dwelt with his mother, pasturing his flocks by

the shore. And quickly they sighted and sailed past his shrine and the

broad banks of the river and the plain, and deep-flowing Calpe, and all

the windless night and the day they bent to their tireless oars. And

even as ploughing oxen toil as they cleave the moist earth, and sweat

streams in abundance from flank and neck; and from beneath the yoke

their eyes roll askance, while the breath ever rushes from their mouths

in hot gasps; and all day long they toil, planting their hoofs deep in

the ground; like them the heroes kept dragging their oars through the

sea.

Now when divine light has not yet come nor is it utter darkness, but a

faint glimmer has spread over the night, the time when men wake and call

it twilight, at that hour they ran into the harbour of the desert island

Thynias and, spent by weary toil, mounted the shore. And to them the son

of Leto, as he passed from Lycia far away to the countless folk of the

Hyperboreans, appeared; and about his cheeks on both sides his golden

locks flowed in clusters as he moved; in his left hand he held a silver

bow, and on his back was slung a quiver hanging from his shoulders; and

beneath his feet all the island quaked, and the waves surged high on the

beach. Helpless amazement seized them as they looked; and no one dared

to gaze face to face into the fair eyes of the god. And they stood with

heads bowed to the ground; but he, far off, passed on to the sea through

the air; and at length Orpheus spake as follows, addressing the chiefs:

"Come, let us call this island the sacred isle of Apollo of the Dawn

since he has appeared to all, passing by at dawn; and we will offer such

sacrifices as we can, building an altar on the shore; and if hereafter

he shall grant us a safe return to the Haemonian land, then will we lay

on his altar the thighs of horned goats. And now I bid you propitiate

him with the steam of sacrifice and libations. Be gracious, O king, be

gracious in thy appearing."

Thus he spake, and they straightway built up an altar with shingle; and

over the island they wandered, seeking if haply they could get a glimpse

of a fawn or a wild goat, that often seek their pasture in the deep

wood. And for them Leto's son provided a quarry; and with pious rites

they wrapped in fat the thigh bones of them all and burnt them on the

sacred altar, celebrating Apollo, Lord of Dawn. And round the burning

sacrifice they set up a broad dancing-ring, singing, "All hail, fair god

of healing, Phoebus, all hail," and with them Oeagrus' goodly son began

a clear lay on his Bistonian lyre; how once beneath the rocky ridge of

Parnassus he slew with his bow the monster Delphyne, he, still young and

beardless, still rejoicing in his long tresses. Mayst thou be gracious!

Ever, O king, be thy locks unshorn, ever unravaged; for so is it right.

And none but Leto, daughter of Coeus, strokes them with her dear hands.

And often the Corycian nymphs, daughters of Pleistus, took up the

cheering strain crying "Healer"; hence arose this lovely refrain of the

hymn to Phoebus.

Now when they had celebrated him with dance and song they took an oath

with holy libations, that they would ever help each other with concord

of heart, touching the sacrifice as they swore; and even now there

stands there a temple to gracious Concord, which the heroes themselves

reared, paying honour at that time to the glorious goddess.

Now when the third morning came, with a fresh west wind they left the

lofty island. Next, on the opposite side they saw and passed the mouth

of the river Sangarius and the fertile land of the Mariandyni, and the

stream of Lycus and the Anthemoeisian lake; and beneath the breeze the

ropes and all the tackling quivered as they sped onward. During the

night the wind ceased and at dawn they gladly reached the haven of the

Acherusian headland. It rises aloft with steep cliffs, looking towards

the Bithynian sea; and beneath it smooth rocks, ever washed by the sea,

stand rooted firm; and round them the wave rolls and thunders loud, but

above, wide-spreading plane trees grow on the topmost point. And from it

towards the land a hollow glen slopes gradually away, where there is a

cave of Hades overarched by wood and rocks. From here an icy breath,

unceasingly issuing from the chill recess, ever forms a glistening rime

which melts again beneath the midday sun. And never does silence hold

that grim headland, but there is a continual murmur from the sounding

sea and the leaves that quiver in the winds from the cave. And here is

the outfall of the river Acheron which bursts its way through the

headland and falls into the Eastern sea, and a hollow ravine brings it

down from above. In after times the Nisaean Megarians named it

Soönautes[1] when they were about to settle in the land of the

Mariandyni. For indeed the river saved them with their ships when they

were caught in a violent tempest. By this way the heroes took the ship

through[2] the Acherusian headland and came to land over against it as

the wind had just ceased.

[Footnote 1: i.e. Saviour of sailors.]

[Footnote 2: i.e. through the ravine that divides the headland.]

Not long had they come unmarked by Lycus, the lord of that land, and the

Mariandyni--they, the slayers of Amycus, according to the report which

the people heard before; but for that very deed they even made a league

with the heroes. And Polydeuces himself they welcomed as a god, flocking

from every side, since for a long time had they been warring against the

arrogant Bebrycians. And so they went up all together into the city, and

all that day with friendly feelings made ready a feast within the palace

of Lycus and gladdened their souls with converse. Aeson's son told him

the lineage and name of each of his comrades and the behests of Pelias,

and how they were welcomed by the Lemnian women, and all that they did

at Dolionian Cyzicus; and how they reached the Mysian land and Cius,

where, sore against their will, they left behind the hero Heracles, and

he told the saying of Glaucus, and how they slew the Bebrycians and

Amycus, and he told of the prophecies and affliction of Phineus, and how

they escaped the Cyanean rocks, and how they met with Leto's son at the

island. And as he told all, Lycus was charmed in soul with listening;

and he grieved for Heracles left behind, and spake as follows among them

all:

"O friends, what a man he was from whose help ye have fallen away, as ye

cleave your long path to Aeetes; for well do I know that I saw him here

in the halls of Dascylus my father, when he came hither on foot through

the land of Asia bringing the girdle of warlike Hippolyte; and me he

found with the down just growing on my cheeks. And here, when my brother

Priolas was slain by the Mysians--my brother, whom ever since the people

lament with most piteous dirges--he entered the lists with Titias in

boxing and slew him, mighty Titias, who surpassed all the youths in

beauty and strength; and he dashed his teeth to the ground. Together

with the Mysians he subdued beneath my father's sway the Phrygians also,

who inhabit the lands next to us, and he made his own the tribes of the

Bithynians and their land, as far as the mouth of Rhebas and the peak of

Colone; and besides them the Paphlagonians of Pelops yielded just as

they were, even all those round whom the dark water of Billaeus breaks.

But now the Bebrycians and the insolence of Amycus have robbed me, since

Heracles dwells far away, for they have long been cutting off huge

pieces of my land until they have set their bounds at the meadows of

deep-flowing Hypius. Nevertheless, by your hands have they paid the

penalty; and it was not without the will of heaven, I trow, that he

brought war on the Bebrycians this day--he, the son of Tyndareus, when

he slew that champion. Wherefore whatever requital I am now able to pay,

gladly will I pay it, for that is the rule for weaker men when the

stronger begin to help them. So with you all, and in your company, I bid

Dascylus my son follow; and if he goes, you will find all men friendly

that ye meet on your way through the sea even to the mouth of the river

Thermodon. And besides that, to the sons of Tyndareus will I raise a

lofty temple on the Acherusian height, which all sailors shall mark far

across the sea and shall reverence; and hereafter for them will I set

apart outside the city, as for gods, some fertile fields of the

well-tilled plain."

Thus all day long they revelled at the banquet. But at dawn they hied

down to the ship in haste; and with them went Lycus himself, when he had

given them countless gifts to bear away; and with them he sent forth his

son from his home.

And here his destined fate smote Idmon, son of Abas, skilled in

soothsaying; but not at all did his soothsaying save him, for necessity

drew him on to death. For in the mead of the reedy river there lay,

cooling his flanks and huge belly in the mud, a white-tusked boar, a

deadly monster, whom even the nymphs of the marsh dreaded, and no man

knew it; but all alone he was feeding in the wide fen. But the son of

Abas was passing along the raised banks of the muddy river, and the boar

from some unseen lair leapt out of the reed-bed, and charging gashed his

thigh and severed in twain the sinews and the bone. And with a sharp cry

the hero fell to the ground; and as he was struck his comrades flocked

together with answering cry. And quickly Peleus with his hunting spear

aimed at the murderous boar as he fled back into the fen; and again he

turned and charged; but Idas wounded him, and with a roar he fell

impaled upon the sharp spear. And the boar they left on the ground just

as he had fallen there; but Idmon, now at the last gasp, his comrades

bore to the ship in sorrow of heart, and he died in his comrades' arms.

And here they stayed from taking thought for their voyaging and abode in

grief for the burial of their dead friend. And for three whole days they

lamented; and on the next they buried him with full honours, and the

people and King Lycus himself took part in the funeral rites; and, as is

the due of the departed, they slaughtered countless sheep at his tomb.

And so a barrow to this hero was raised in that land, and there stands a

token for men of later days to see, the trunk of a wild olive tree, such

as ships are built of; and it flourishes with its green leaves a little

below the Acherusian headland. And if at the bidding of the Muses I must

tell this tale outright, Phoebus strictly commanded the Boeotians and

Nisaeans to worship him as guardian of their city, and to build their

city round the trunk of the ancient wild olive; but they, instead of the

god-fearing Aeolid Idmon, at this day honour Agamestor.

Who was the next that died? For then a second time the heroes heaped up

a barrow for a comrade dead. For still are to be seen two monuments of

those heroes. The tale goes that Tiphys son of Hagnias died; nor was it

his destiny thereafter to sail any further. But him there on the spot a

short sickness laid to rest far from his native land, when the company

had paid due honours to the dead son of Abas. And at the cruel woe they

were seized with unbearable grief. For when with due honours they had

buried him also hard by the seer, they cast themselves down in

helplessness on the sea-shore silently, closely wrapped up, and took no

thought for meat or drink; and their spirit drooped in grief, for all

hope of return was gone. And in their sorrow they would have stayed from

going further had not Hera kindled exceeding courage in Ancaeus, whom

near the waters of Imbrasus Astypalaea bore to Poseidon; for especially

was he skilled in steering and eagerly did he address Peleus:

"Son of Aeacus, is it well for us to give up our toils and linger on in

a strange land? Not so much for my prowess in war did Jason take me with

him in quest of the fleece, far from Parthenia, as for my knowledge of

ships. Wherefore, I pray, let there be no fear for the ship. And so

there are here other men of skill, of whom none will harm our voyaging,

whomsoever we set at the helm. But quickly tell forth all this and

boldly urge them to call to mind their task."

Thus he spake; and Peleus' soul was stirred with gladness, and

straightway he spake in the midst of all: "My friends, why do we thus

cherish a bootless grief like this? For those two have perished by the

fate they have met with; but among our host are steersmen yet, and many

a one. Wherefore let us not delay our attempt, but rouse yourselves to

the work and cast away your griefs."

And him in reply Aeson's son addressed with helpless words: "Son of

Aeacus, where are these steersmen of thine? For those whom we once

deemed to be men of skill, they even more than I are bowed with vexation

of heart. Wherefore I forebode an evil doom for us even as for the dead,

if it shall be our lot neither to reach the city of fell Aeetes, nor

ever again to pass beyond the rocks to the land of Hellas, but a

wretched fate will enshroud us here ingloriously till we grow old for

naught."

Thus he spake, but Ancaeus quickly undertook to guide the swift ship;

for he was stirred by the impulse of the goddess. And after him Erginus

and Nauplius and Euphemus started up, eager to steer. But the others

held them back, and many of his comrades granted it to Ancaeus.

So on the twelfth day they went aboard at dawn, for a strong breeze of

westerly wind was blowing. And quickly with the oars they passed out

through the river Acheron and, trusting to the wind, shook out their

sails, and with canvas spread far and wide they were cleaving their

passage through the waves in fair weather. And soon they passed the

outfall of the river Callichorus, where, as the tale goes, the Nysean

son of Zeus, when he had left the tribes of the Indians and came to

dwell at Thebes, held revels and arrayed dances in front of a cave,

wherein he passed unsmiling sacred nights, from which time the

neighbours call the river by the name of Callichorus[1] and the cave

Aulion.[2]

[Footnote 1: i.e. river of fair dances.]

[Footnote 2: i.e. the bedchamber.]

Next they beheld the barrow of Sthenelus, Actor's son, who on his way

back from the valorous war against the Amazons--for he had been the

comrade of Heracles--was struck by an arrow and died there upon the

sea-beach. And for a time they went no further, for Persephone herself

sent forth the spirit of Actor's son which craved with many tears to

behold men like himself, even for a moment. And mounting on the edge of

the barrow he gazed upon the ship, such as he was when he went to war;

and round his head a fair helm with four peaks gleamed with its

blood-red crest. And again he entered the vast gloom; and they looked

and marvelled; and Mopsus, son of Ampycus, with word of prophecy urged

them to land and propitiate him with libations. Quickly they drew in

sail and threw out hawsers, and on the strand paid honour to the tomb of

Sthenelus, and poured out drink offerings to him and sacrificed sheep as

victims. And besides the drink offerings they built an altar to Apollo,

saviour of ships, and burnt thigh bones; and Orpheus dedicated his lyre;

whence the place has the name of Lyra.

And straightway they went aboard as the wind blew strong; and they drew

the sail down, and made it taut to both sheets; then Argo was borne over

the sea swiftly, even as a hawk soaring high through the air commits to

the breeze its outspread wings and is borne on swiftly, nor swerves in

its flight, poising in the clear sky with quiet pinions. And lo, they

passed by the stream of Parthenius as it flows into the sea, a most

gentle river, where the maid, daughter of Leto, when she mounts to

heaven after the chase, cools her limbs in its much-desired waters. Then

they sped onward in the night without ceasing, and passed Sesamus and

lofty Erythini, Crobialus, Cromna and woody Cytorus. Next they swept

round Carambis at the rising of the sun, and plied the oars past long

Aegialus, all day and on through the night.

And straightway they landed on the Assyrian shore where Zeus himself

gave a home to Sinope, daughter of Asopus, and granted her virginity,

beguiled by his own promises. For he longed for her love, and he

promised to grant her whatever her heart's desire might be. And she in

her craftiness asked of him virginity. And in like manner she deceived

Apollo too who longed to wed her, and besides them the river Halys, and

no man ever subdued her in love's embrace. And there the sons of noble

Deimachus of Tricca were still dwelling, Deileon, Autolycus and

Phlogius, since the day when they wandered far away from Heracles; and

they, when they marked the array of chieftains, went to meet them and

declared in truth who they were; and they wished to remain there no

longer, but as soon as Argestes[1] blew went on ship-board. And so with

them, borne along by the swift breeze, the heroes left behind the river

Halys, and left behind Iris that flows hard by, and the delta-land of

Assyria; and on the same day they rounded the distant headland of the

Amazons that guards their harbour.

[Footnote 1: The north-west wind.]

Here once when Melanippe, daughter of Ares, had gone forth, the hero

Heracles caught her by ambuscade and Hippolyte gave him her glistening

girdle as her sister's ransom, and he sent away his captive unharmed. In

the bay of this headland, at the outfall of Thermodon, they ran ashore,

for the sea was rough for their voyage. No river is like this, and none

sends forth from itself such mighty streams over the land. If a man

should count every one he would lack but four of a hundred, but the real

spring is only one. This flows down to the plain from lofty mountains,

which, men say, are called the Amazonian mountains. Thence it spreads

inland over a hilly country straight forward; wherefrom its streams go

winding on, and they roll on, this way and that ever more, wherever best

they can reach the lower ground, one at a distance and another near at

hand; and many streams are swallowed up in the sand and are without a

name; but, mingled with a few, the main stream openly bursts with its

arching crest of foam into the Inhospitable Pontus. And they would have

tarried there and have closed in battle with the Amazons, and would have

fought not without bloodshed--for the Amazons were not gentle foes and

regarded not justice, those dwellers on the Doeantian plain; but

grievous insolence and the works of Ares were all their care; for by

race they were the daughters of Ares and the nymph Harmonia, who bare to

Ares war-loving maids, wedded to him in the glens of the Acmonian

wood--had not the breezes of Argestes come again from Zeus; and with the

wind they left the rounded beach, where the Themiscyreian Amazons were

arming for war. For they dwelt not gathered together in one city, but

scattered over the land, parted into three tribes. In one part dwelt the

Themiscyreians, over whom at that time Hippolyte reigned, in another the

Lycastians, and in another the dart-throwing Chadesians. And the next

day they sped on and at nightfall they reached the land of the Chalybes.

That folk have no care for ploughing with oxen or for any planting of

honey-sweet fruit; nor yet do they pasture flocks in the dewy meadow.

But they cleave the hard iron-bearing land and exchange their wages for

daily sustenance; never does the morn rise for them without toil, but

amid bleak sooty flames and smoke they endure heavy labour.

And straightway thereafter they rounded the headland of Genetaean Zeus

and sped safely past the land of the Tibareni. Here when wives bring

forth children to their husbands, the men lie in bed and groan with

their heads close bound; but the women tend them with food, and prepare

child-birth baths for them.

Next they reached the sacred mount and the land where the Mossynoeci

dwell amid high mountains in wooden huts,[1] from which that people take

their name. And strange are their customs and laws. Whatever it is right

to do openly before the people or in the market place, all this they do

in their homes, but whatever acts we perform at home, these they perform

out of doors in the midst of the streets, without blame. And among them

is no reverence for the marriage-bed, but, like swine that feed in

herds, no whit abashed in others' presence, on the earth they lie with

the women. Their king sits in the loftiest hut and dispenses upright

judgments to the multitude, poor wretch! For if haply he err at all in

his decrees, for that day they keep him shut up in starvation.

[Footnote 1: called "Mossynes."]

They passed them by and cleft their way with oars over against the

island of Ares all day long; for at dusk the light breeze left them. At

last they spied above them, hurtling through the air, one of the birds

of Ares which haunt that isle. It shook its wings down over the ship as

she sped on and sent against her a keen feather, and it fell on the left

shoulder of goodly Oileus, and he dropped his oar from his hands at the

sudden blow, and his comrades marvelled at the sight of the winged bolt.

And Eribotes from his seat hard by drew out the feather, and bound up

the wound when he had loosed the strap hanging from his own

sword-sheath; and besides the first, another bird appeared swooping

down; but the hero Clytius, son of Eurytus--for he bent his curved bow,

and sped a swift arrow against the bird--struck it, and it whirled round

and fell close to the ship. And to them spake Amphidamas, son of Aleus:

"The island of Ares is near us; you know it yourselves now that ye have

seen these birds. But little will arrows avail us, I trow, for landing.

But let us contrive some other device to help us, if ye intend to land,

bearing in mind the injunction of Phineus. For not even could Heracles,

when he came to Arcadia, drive away with bow and arrow the birds that

swam on the Stymphalian lake. I saw it myself. But he shook in his hand

a rattle of bronze and made a loud clatter as he stood upon a lofty

peak; and the birds fled far off, screeching in bewildered fear.

Wherefore now too let us contrive some such device, and I myself will

speak, having pondered the matter beforehand. Set on your heads your

helmets of lofty crest, then half row by turns, and half fence the ship

about with polished spears and shields. Then all together raise a mighty

shout so that the birds may be scared by the unwonted din, the nodding

crests, and the uplifted spears on high. And if we reach the island

itself, then make mighty noise with the clashing of shields."

Thus he spake, and the helpful device pleased all. And on their heads

they placed helmets of bronze, gleaming terribly, and the blood-red

crests were tossing. And half of them rowed in turn, and the rest

covered the ship with spears and shields. And as when a man roofs over a

house with tiles, to be an ornament of his home and a defence against

rain, and one tile fits firmly into another, each after each; so they

roofed over the ship with their shields, locking them together. And as a

din arises from a warrior-host of men sweeping on, when lines of battle

meet, such a shout rose upward from the ship into the air. Now they saw

none of the birds yet, but when they touched the island and clashed upon

their shields, then the birds in countless numbers rose in flight hither

and thither. And as when the son of Cronos sends from the clouds a dense

hail storm on city and houses, and the people who dwell beneath hear the

din above the roof and sit quietly, since the stormy season has not come

upon them unawares, but they have first made strong their roofs; so the

birds sent against the heroes a thick shower of feather-shafts as they

darted over the sea to the mountains of the land opposite.

What then was the purpose of Phineus in bidding the divine band of

heroes land there? Or what kind of help was about to meet their desire?

The sons of Phrixus were faring towards the city of Orchomenus from Aea,

coming from Cytaean Aeetes, on board a Colchian ship, to win the

boundless wealth of their father; for he, when dying, had enjoined this

journey upon them. And lo, on that day they were very near that island.

But Zeus had impelled the north wind's might to blow, marking by rain

the moist path of Arcturus; and all day long he was stirring the leaves

upon the mountains, breathing gently upon the topmost sprays; but at

night he rushed upon the sea with monstrous force, and with his

shrieking blasts uplifted the surge; and a dark mist covered the

heavens, nor did the bright stars anywhere appear from among the clouds,

but a murky gloom brooded all around. And so the sons of Phrixus,

drenched and trembling in fear of a horrible doom, were borne along by

the waves helplessly. And the force of the wind had snatched away their

sails and shattered in twain the hull, tossed as it was by the breakers.

And hereupon by heaven's prompting those four clutched a huge beam, one

of many that were scattered about, held together by sharp bolts, when

the ship broke to pieces. And on to the island the waves and the blasts

of wind bore the men in their distress, within a little of death. And

straightway a mighty rain burst forth, and rained upon the sea and the

island, and all the country opposite the island, where the arrogant

Mossynoeci dwelt. And the sweep of the waves hurled the sons of Phrixus,

together with their massy beam, upon the beach of the island, in the

murky night; and the floods of rain from Zeus ceased at sunrise, and

soon the two bands drew near and met each other, and Argus spoke first:

"We beseech you, by Zeus the Beholder, whoever ye are, to be kindly and

to help us in our need. For fierce tempests, falling on the sea, have

shattered all the timbers of the crazy ship in which we were cleaving

our path on business bent. Wherefore we entreat you, if haply ye will

listen, to grant us just a covering for our bodies, and to pity and

succour men in misfortune, your equals in age. Oh, reverence suppliants

and strangers for Zeus' sake, the god of strangers and suppliants. To

Zeus belong both suppliants and strangers; and his eye, methinks,

beholdeth even us."

And in reply the son of Aeson prudently questioned him, deeming that the

prophecies of Phineus were being fulfilled: "All these things will we

straightway grant you with right good will. But come tell me truly in

what country ye dwell and what business bids you sail across the sea,

and tell me your own glorious names and lineage."

And him Argus, helpless in his evil plight, addressed: "That one Phrixus

an Aeolid reached Aea from Hellas you yourselves have clearly heard ere

this, I trow; Phrixus, who came to the city of Aeetes, bestriding a ram,

which Hermes had made all gold; and the fleece ye may see even now. The

ram, at its own prompting, he then sacrificed to Zeus, son of Cronos,

above all, the god of fugitives. And him did Aeetes receive in his

palace, and with gladness of heart gave him his daughter Chalciope in

marriage without gifts of wooing.[1] From those two are we sprung. But

Phrixus died at last, an aged man, in the home of Aeetes; and we, giving

heed to our father's behests, are journeying to Orchomenus to take the

possessions of Athamas. And if thou dost desire to learn our names, this

is Cytissorus, this Phrontis, and this Melas, and me ye may call Argus."

[Footnote 1: i.e. without exacting gifts from the bridegroom. So in the

Iliad (ix. 146) Agamemnon offers Achilles any of his three daughters

[Greek: anhaednos]]

Thus he spake, and the chieftains rejoiced at the meeting, and tended

them, much marvelling. And Jason again in turn replied, as was fitting,

with these words:

"Surely ye are our kinsmen on my father's side, and ye pray that with

kindly hearts we succour your evil plight. For Cretheus and Athamas were

brothers. I am the grandson of Cretheus, and with these comrades here I

am journeying from that same Hellas to the city of Aeetes. But of these

things we will converse hereafter. And do ye first put clothing upon

you. By heaven's devising, I ween, have ye come to my hands in your sore

need."

He spake, and out of the ship gave them raiment to put on. Then all

together they went to the temple of Ares to offer sacrifice of sheep;

and in haste they stood round the altar, which was outside the roofless

temple, an altar built of pebbles; within a black stone stood fixed, a

sacred thing, to which of yore the Amazons all used to pray. Nor was it

lawful for them, when they came from the opposite coast, to burn on this

altar offerings of sheep and oxen, but they used to slay horses which

they kept in great herds. Now when they had sacrificed and eaten the

feast prepared, then Aeson's son spake among them and thus began:

"Zeus' self, I ween, beholds everything; nor do we men escape his eye,

we that be god-fearing and just, for as he rescued your father from the

hands of a murderous step-dame and gave him measureless wealth besides;

even so hath he saved you harmless from the baleful storm. And on board

this ship ye may sail hither and thither, where ye will, whether to Aea

or to the wealthy city of divine Orchomenus. For our ship Athena built

and with axe of bronze cut her timbers near the crest of Pelion, and

with the goddess wrought Argus. But yours the fierce surge hath

shattered, before ye came nigh to the rocks which all day long clash

together in the straits of the sea. But come, be yourselves our helpers,

for we are eager to bring to Hellas the golden fleece, and guide us on

our voyage, for I go to atone for the intended sacrifice of Phrixus, the

cause of Zeus' wrath against the sons of Aeolus."

He spake with soothing words; but horror seized them when they heard.

For they deemed that they would not find Aeetes friendly if they desired

to take away the ram's fleece. And Argus spake as follows, vexed that

they should busy themselves with such a quest:

"My friends, our strength, so far as it avails, shall never cease to

help you, not one whit, when need shall come. But Aeetes is terribly

armed with deadly ruthlessness; wherefore exceedingly do I dread this

voyage. And he boasts himself to be the son of Helios; and all round

dwell countless tribes of Colchians; and he might match himself with

Ares in his dread war-cry and giant strength. Nay, to seize the fleece

in spite of Aeetes is no easy task; so huge a serpent keeps guard round

and about it, deathless and sleepless, which Earth herself brought forth

on the sides of Caucasus, by the rock of Typhaon, where Typhaon, they

say, smitten by the bolt of Zeus, son of Cronos, when he lifted against

the god his sturdy hands, dropped from his head hot gore; and in such

plight he reached the mountains and plain of Nysa, where to this day he

lies whelmed beneath the waters of the Serbonian lake."

Thus he spake, and straightway many a cheek grew pale when they heard of

so mighty an adventure. But quickly Peleus answered with cheering words,

and thus spake:

"Be not so fearful in spirit, my good friend. For we are not so lacking

in prowess as to be no match for Aeetes to try his strength with arms;

but I deem that we too are cunning in war, we that go thither, near akin

to the blood of the blessed gods. Wherefore if he will not grant us the

fleece of gold for friendship's sake, the tribes of the Colchians will

not avail him, I ween."

Thus they addressed each other in turn, until again, satisfied with

their feast, they turned to rest. And when they rose at dawn a gentle

breeze was blowing; and they raised the sails, which strained to the

rush of the wind, and quickly they left behind the island of Ares.

And at nightfall they came to the island of Philyra, where Cronos, son

of Uranus, what time in Olympus he reigned over the Titans, and Zeus was

yet being nurtured in a Cretan cave by the Curetes of Ida, lay beside

Philyra, when he had deceived Rhea; and the goddess found them in the

midst of their dalliance; and Cronos leapt up from the couch with a rush

in the form of a steed with flowing mane, but Ocean's daughter, Philyra,

in shame left the spot and those haunts, and came to the long Pelasgian

ridges, where by her union with the transfigured deity she brought forth

huge Cheiron, half like a horse, half like a god.

Thence they sailed on, past the Macrones and the far-stretching land of

the Becheiri and the overweening Sapeires, and after them the Byzeres;

for ever forward they clave their way, quickly borne by the gentle

breeze. And lo, as they sped on, a deep gulf of the sea was opened, and

lo, the steep crags of the Caucasian mountains rose up, where, with his

limbs bound upon the hard rocks by galling fetters of bronze, Prometheus

fed with his liver an eagle that ever rushed back to its prey. High

above the ship at even they saw it flying with a loud whirr, near the

clouds; and yet it shook all the sails with the fanning of those huge

wings. For it had not the form of a bird of the air but kept poising its

long wing-feathers like polished oars. And not long after they heard the

bitter cry of Prometheus as his liver was being torn away; and the air

rang with his screams until they marked the ravening eagle rushing back

from the mountain on the self-same track. And at night, by the skill of

Argus, they reached broad-flowing Phasis, and the utmost bourne of the

sea.

And straightway they let down the sails and the yard-arm and stowed them

inside the hollow mast-crutch, and at once they lowered the mast itself

till it lay along; and quickly with oars they entered the mighty stream

of the river; and round the prow the water surged as it gave them way.

And on their left hand they had lofty Caucasus and the Cytaean city of

Aea, and on the other side the plain of Ares and the sacred grove of

that god, where the serpent was keeping watch and ward over the fleece

as it hung on the leafy branches of an oak. And Aeson's son himself from

a golden goblet poured into the river libations of honey and pure wine

to Earth and to the gods of the country, and to the souls of dead

heroes; and he besought them of their grace to give kindly aid, and to

welcome their ship's hawsers with favourable omen. And straightway

Ancaeus spake these words:

"We have reached the Colchian land and the stream of Phasis; and it is

time for us to take counsel whether we shall make trial of Aeetes with

soft words, or an attempt of another kind shall be fitting."

Thus he spake, and by the advice of Argus Jason bade them enter a shaded

backwater and let the ship ride at anchor off shore; and it was near at

hand in their course and there they passed the night. And soon the dawn

appeared to their expectant eyes.

BOOK III

SUMMARY OF BOOK III

Invocation of the Muse, Erato (1-5).--Hera and Athena, after

consultation, visit Cypris to ask the aid of her son Eros on behalf

of the Argonauts (6-110).--Eros promises to pierce with an arrow

Medea, daughter of Aeetes: Jason lays his plans before his comrades

(111-209).--Arrival of Jason and a few chosen companions at the

palace of Aeetes, which is described: Eros performs his promise

(210-298).--Interview between Aeetes and the heroes: Jason

undertakes the task imposed by the king as the price of obtaining

the golden fleece (299-438).--Anguish of Medea because of her love

for Jason (439-470).--On the advice of Argus, it is decided to

apply for Medea's aid through Chalciope, mother of Argus and sister

of Medea (471-575).--Plans of Aeetes against the Argonauts

(576-608).--Medea promises Chalciope to aid her sons and their

companions (609-743)--After long hesitation Medea prepares to carry

magic drugs to Jason and goes with her attendants to meet him at

Hecate's temple (744-911).--Interview of Jason and Medea: return of

Medea to the palace (912-1162).--Aeetes hands over the dragons

teeth to Jason's messengers. Jason offers a nocturnal sacrifice to

Hecate (1163-1224).--Preparations of Jason: he yokes the fiery

bulls, sows the dragons teeth, and compels the giants who spring up

to slay one another, himself joining in the slaughter: the task is

accomplished (1225-1407).

BOOK III

Come now, Erato, stand by my side, and say next how Jason brought back

the fleece to Iolcus aided by the love of Medea. For thou sharest the

power of Cypris, and by thy love-cares dost charm unwedded maidens;

wherefore to thee too is attached a name that tells of love.

Thus the heroes, unobserved, were waiting in ambush amid the thick

reed-beds; but Hera and Athena took note of them, and, apart from Zeus

and the other immortals, entered a chamber and took counsel together;

and Hera first made trial of Athena:

"Do thou now first, daughter of Zeus, give advice. What must be done?

Wilt thou devise some scheme whereby they may seize the golden fleece of

Aeetes and bear it to Hellas, or can they deceive the king with soft

words and so work persuasion? Of a truth he is terribly overweening.

Still it is right to shrink from no endeavour."

Thus she spake, and at once Athena addressed her: "I too was pondering

such thoughts in my heart, Hera, when thou didst ask me outright. But

not yet do I think that I have conceived a scheme to aid the courage of

the heroes, though I have balanced many plans."

She ended, and the goddesses fixed their eyes on the ground at their

feet, brooding apart; and straightway Hera was the first to speak her

thought: "Come, let us go to Cypris; let both of us accost her and urge

her to bid her son (if only he will obey) speed his shaft at the

daughter of Aeetes, the enchantress, and charm her with love for Jason.

And I deem that by her device he will bring back the fleece to Hellas."

Thus she spake, and the prudent plan pleased Athena, and she addressed

her in reply with gentle words:

"Hera, my father begat me to be a stranger to the darts of love, nor do

I know any charm to work desire. But if the word pleases thee, surely I

will follow; but thou must speak when we meet her."

So she said, and starting forth they came to the mighty palace of

Cypris, which her husband, the halt-footed god, had built for her when

first he brought her from Zeus to be his wife. And entering the court

they stood beneath the gallery of the chamber where the goddess prepared

the couch of Hephaestus. But he had gone early to his forge and anvils

to a broad cavern in a floating island where with the blast of flame he

wrought all manner of curious work; and she all alone was sitting

within, on an inlaid seat facing the door. And her white shoulders on

each side were covered with the mantle of her hair and she was parting

it with a golden comb and about to braid up the long tresses; but when

she saw the goddesses before her, she stayed and called them within, and

rose from her seat and placed them on couches. Then she herself sat

down, and with her hands gathered up the locks still uncombed. And

smiling she addressed them with crafty words:

"Good friends, what intent, what occasion brings you here after so long?

Why have ye come, not too frequent visitors before, chief among

goddesses that ye are?"

And to her Hera replied: "Thou dost mock us, but our hearts are stirred

with calamity. For already on the river Phasis the son of Aeson moors

his ship, he and his comrades in quest of the fleece. For all their

sakes we fear terribly (for the task is nigh at hand) but most for

Aeson's son. Him will I deliver, though he sail even to Hades to free

Ixion below from his brazen chains, as far as strength lies in my limbs,

so that Pelias may not mock at having escaped an evil doom--Pelias who

left me unhonoured with sacrifice. Moreover Jason was greatly loved by

me before, ever since at the mouth of Anaurus in flood, as I was making

trial of men's righteousness, he met me on his return from the chase;

and all the mountains and long ridged peaks were sprinkled with snow,

and from them the torrents rolling down were rushing with a roar. And he

took pity on me in the likeness of an old crone, and raising me on his

shoulders himself bore me through the headlong tide. So he is honoured

by me unceasingly; nor will Pelias pay the penalty of his outrage,

unless thou wilt grant Jason his return."

Thus she spake, and speechlessness seized Cypris. And beholding Hera

supplicating her she felt awe, and then addressed her with friendly

words: "Dread goddess, may no viler thing than Cypris ever be found, if

I disregard thy eager desire in word or deed, whatever my weak arms can

effect; and let there be no favour in return."

She spake, and Hera again addressed her with prudence: "It is not in

need of might or of strength that we have come. But just quietly bid thy

boy charm Aeetes' daughter with love for Jason. For if she will aid him

with her kindly counsel, easily do I think he will win the fleece of

gold and return to Iolcus, for she is full of wiles."

Thus she spake, and Cypris addressed them both: "Hera and Athena, he

will obey you rather than me. For unabashed though he is, there will be

some slight shame in his eyes before you: but he has no respect for me,

but ever slights me in contentious mood. And, overborne by his

naughtiness, I purpose to break his ill-sounding arrows and his bow in

his very sight. For in his anger he has threatened that if I shall not

keep my hands off him while he still masters his temper, I shall have

cause to blame myself thereafter."

So she spake, and the goddesses smiled and looked at each other. But

Cypris again spoke, vexed at heart: "To others my sorrows are a jest;

nor ought I to tell them to all; I know them too well myself. But now,

since this pleases you both, I will make the attempt and coax him, and

he will not say me nay."

Thus she spake, and Hera took her slender hand and gently smiling,

replied: "Perform this task, Cytherea, straightway, as thou sayest; and

be not angry or contend with thy boy; he will cease hereafter to vex

thee."

She spake, and left her seat, and Athena accompanied her and they went

forth both hastening back. And Cypris went on her way through the glens

of Olympus to find her boy. And she found him apart, in the blooming

orchard of Zeus, not alone, but with him Ganymedes, whom once Zeus had

set to dwell among the immortal gods, being enamoured of his beauty. And

they were playing for golden dice, as boys in one house are wont to do.

And already greedy Eros was holding the palm of his left hand quite full

of them under his breast, standing upright; and on the bloom of his

cheeks a sweet blush was glowing. But the other sat crouching hard by,

silent and downcast, and he had two dice left which he threw one after

the other, and was angered by the loud laughter of Eros. And lo, losing

them straightway with the former, he went off empty-handed, helpless,

and noticed not the approach of Cypris. And she stood before her boy,

and laying her hand on his lips, addressed him:

"Why dost thou smile in triumph, unutterable rogue? Hast thou cheated

him thus, and unjustly overcome the innocent child? Come, be ready to

perform for me the task I will tell thee of, and I will give thee Zeus'

all-beauteous plaything--the one which his dear nurse Adrasteia made for

him, while he still lived a child, with childish ways, in the Idaean

cave--a well-rounded ball; no better toy wilt thou get from the hands of

Hephaestus. All of gold are its zones, and round each double seams run

in a circle; but the stitches are hidden, and a dark blue spiral

overlays them all. But if thou shouldst cast it with thy hands, lo, like

a star, it sends a flaming track through the sky. This I will give thee;

and do thou strike with thy shaft and charm the daughter of Aeetes with

love for Jason; and let there be no loitering. For then my thanks would

be the slighter."

Thus she spake, and welcome were her words to the listening boy. And he

threw down all his toys, and eagerly seizing her robe on this side and

on that, clung to the goddess. And he implored her to bestow the gift at

once; but she, facing him with kindly words, touched his cheeks, kissed

him and drew him to her, and replied with a smile:

"Be witness now thy dear head and mine, that surely I will give thee the

gift and deceive thee not, if thou wilt strike with thy shaft Aeetes'

daughter."

She spoke, and he gathered up his dice, and having well counted them all

threw them into his mother's gleaming lap. And straightway with golden

baldric he slung round him his quiver from where it leant against a

tree-trunk, and took up his curved bow. And he fared forth through the

fruitful orchard of the palace of Zeus. Then he passed through the gates

of Olympus high in air; hence is a downward path from heaven; and the

twin poles rear aloft steep mountain tops--the highest crests of earth,

where the risen sun grows ruddy with his first beams. And beneath him

there appeared now the life-giving earth and cities of men and sacred

streams of rivers, and now in turn mountain peaks and the ocean all

around, as he swept through the vast expanse of air.

Now the heroes apart in ambush, in a back-water of the river, were met

in council, sitting on the benches of their ship. And Aeson's son

himself was speaking among them; and they were listening silently in

their places sitting row upon row: "My friends, what pleases myself that

will I say out; it is for you to bring about its fulfilment. For in

common is our task, and common to all alike is the right of speech; and

he who in silence withholds his thought and his counsel, let him know

that it is he alone that bereaves this band of its home-return. Do ye

others rest here in the ship quietly with your arms; but I will go to

the palace of Aeetes, taking with me the sons of Phrixus and two

comrades as well. And when I meet him I will first make trial with words

to see if he will be willing to give up the golden fleece for

friendship's sake or not, but trusting to his might will set at nought

our quest. For so, learning his frowardness first from himself, we will

consider whether we shall meet him in battle, or some other plan shall

avail us, if we refrain from the war-cry. And let us not merely by

force, before putting words to the test, deprive him of his own

possession. But first it is better to go to him and win his favour by

speech. Oftentimes, I ween, does speech accomplish at need what prowess

could hardly carry through, smoothing the path in manner befitting. And

he once welcomed noble Phrixus, a fugitive from his stepmother's wiles

and the sacrifice prepared by his father. For all men everywhere, even

the most shameless, reverence the ordinance of Zeus, god of strangers,

and regard it."

Thus he spake, and the youths approved the words of Aeson's son with one

accord, nor was there one to counsel otherwise. And then he summoned to

go with him the sons of Phrixus, and Telamon and Augeias; and himself

took Hermes' wand; and at once they passed forth from the ship beyond

the reeds and the water to dry land, towards the rising ground of the

plain. The plain, I wis, is called Circe's; and here in line grow many

willows and osiers, on whose topmost branches hang corpses bound with

cords. For even now it is an abomination with the Colchians to burn dead

men with fire; nor is it lawful to place them in the earth and raise a

mound above, but to wrap them in untanned oxhides and suspend them from

trees far from the city. And so earth has an equal portion with air,

seeing that they bury the women; for that is the custom of their land.

And as they went Hera with friendly thought spread a thick mist through

the city, that they might fare to the palace of Aeetes unseen by the

countless hosts of the Colchians. But soon when from the plain they came

to the city and Aeetes' palace, then again Hera dispersed the mist. And

they stood at the entrance, marvelling at the king's courts and the wide

gates and columns which rose in ordered lines round the walls; and high

up on the palace a coping of stone rested on brazen triglyphs. And

silently they crossed the threshold. And close by garden vines covered

with green foliage were in full bloom, lifted high in air. And beneath

them ran four fountains, ever-flowing, which Hephaestus had delved out.

One was gushing with milk, one with wine, while the third flowed with

fragrant oil; and the fourth ran with water, which grew warm at the

setting of the Pleiads, and in turn at their rising bubbled forth from

the hollow rock, cold as crystal. Such then were the wondrous works that

the craftsman-god Hephaestus had fashioned in the palace of Cytaean

Aeetes. And he wrought for him bulls with feet of bronze, and their

mouths were of bronze, and from them they breathed out a terrible flame

of fire; moreover he forged a plough of unbending adamant, all in one

piece, in payment of thanks to Helios, who had taken the god up in his

chariot when faint from the Phlegraean fight.[1] And here an inner-court

was built, and round it were many well-fitted doors and chambers here

and there, and all along on each side was a richly-wrought gallery. And

on both sides loftier buildings stood obliquely. In one, which was the

loftiest, lordly Aeetes dwelt with his queen; and in another dwelt

Apsyrtus, son of Aeetes, whom a Caucasian nymph, Asterodeia, bare before

he made Eidyia his wedded wife, the youngest daughter of Tethys and

Oceanus. And the sons of the Colchians called him by the new name of

Phaëthon,[2] because he outshone all the youths. The other buildings the

handmaidens had, and the two daughters of Aeetes, Chalciope and Medea.

Medea then [they found] going from chamber to chamber in search of her

sister, for Hera detained her within that day; but beforetime she was

not wont to haunt the palace, but all day long was busied in Hecate's

temple, since she herself was the priestess of the goddess. And when she

saw them she cried aloud, and quickly Chalciope caught the sound; and

her maids, throwing down at their feet their yarn and their thread,

rushed forth all in a throng. And she, beholding her sons among them,

raised her hands aloft through joy; and so they likewise greeted their

mother, and when they saw her embraced her in their gladness; and she

with many sobs spoke thus:

[Footnote 1: i.e. the fight between the gods and the giants.]

[Footnote 2: i.e. the Shining One.]

"After all then, ye were not destined to leave me in your heedlessness

and to wander far; but fate has turned you back. Poor wretch that I am!

What a yearning for Hellas from some woeful madness seized you at the

behest of your father Phrixus. Bitter sorrows for my heart did he ordain

when dying. And why should ye go to the city of Orchomenus, whoever this

Orchomenus is, for the sake of Athamas' wealth, leaving your mother

alone to bear her grief?"

Such were her words; and Aeetes came forth last of all and Eidyia

herself came, the queen of Aeetes, on hearing the voice of Chalciope;

and straightway all the court was filled with a throng. Some of the

thralls were busied with a mighty bull, others with the axe were

cleaving dry billets, and others heating with fire water for the baths;

nor was there one who relaxed his toil, serving the king.

Meantime Eros passed unseen through the grey mist, causing confusion, as

when against grazing heifers rises the gadfly, which oxherds call the

breese. And quickly beneath the lintel in the porch he strung his bow

and took from the quiver an arrow unshot before, messenger of pain. And

with swift feet unmarked he passed the threshold and keenly glanced

around; and gliding close by Aeson's son he laid the arrow-notch on the

cord in the centre, and drawing wide apart with both hands he shot at

Medea; and speechless amazement seized her soul. But the god himself

flashed back again from the high-roofed hall, laughing loud; and the

bolt burnt deep down in the maiden's heart, like a flame; and ever she

kept darting bright glances straight up at Aeson's son, and within her

breast her heart panted fast through anguish, all remembrance left her,

and her soul melted with the sweet pain. And as a poor woman heaps dry

twigs round a blazing brand--a daughter of toil, whose task is the

spinning of wool, that she may kindle a blaze at night beneath her roof,

when she has waked very early--and the flame waxing wondrous great from

the small brand consumes all the twigs together; so, coiling round her

heart, burnt secretly Love the destroyer; and the hue of her soft cheeks

went and came, now pale, now red, in her soul's distraction.

Now when the thralls had laid a banquet ready before them, and they had

refreshed themselves with warm baths, gladly did they please their souls

with meat and drink. And thereafter Aeetes questioned the sons of his

daughter, addressing them with these words:

"Sons of my daughter and of Phrixus, whom beyond all strangers I

honoured in my halls, how have ye come returning back to Aea? Did some

calamity cut short your escape in the midst? Ye did not listen when I

set before you the boundless length of the way. For I marked it once,

whirled along in the chariot of my father Helios, when he was bringing

my sister Circe to the western land and we came to the shore of the

Tyrrhenian mainland, where even now she abides, exceeding far from

Colchis. But what pleasure is there in words? Do ye tell me plainly what

has been your fortune, and who these men are, your companions, and where

from your hollow ship ye came ashore."

Such were his questions, and Argus, before all his brethren, being

fearful for the mission of Aeson's son, gently replied, for he was the

elder-born:

"Aeetes, that ship forthwith stormy blasts tore asunder, and ourselves,

crouching on the beams, a wave drove on to the beach of the isle of

Enyalius[1] in the murky night; and some god preserved us. For even the

birds of Ares that haunted the desert isle beforetime, not even them did

we find. But these men had driven them off, having landed from their

ship on the day before; and the will of Zeus taking pity on us, or some

fate, detained them there, since they straightway gave us both food and

clothing in abundance, when they heard the illustrious name of Phrixus

and thine own; for to thy city are they faring. And if thou dost wish to

know their errand, I will not hide it from thee. A certain king,

vehemently longing to drive this man far from his fatherland and

possessions, because in might he outshone all the sons of Aeolus, sends

him to voyage hither on a bootless venture; and asserts that the stock

of Aeolus will not escape the heart-grieving wrath and rage of

implacable Zeus, nor the unbearable curse and vengeance due for Phrixus,

until the fleece comes back to Hellas. And their ship was fashioned by

Pallas Athena, not such a one as are the ships among the Colchians, on

the vilest of which we chanced. For the fierce waves and wind broke her

utterly to pieces; but the other holds firm with her bolts, even though

all the blasts should buffet her. And with equal swiftness she speedeth

before the wind and when the crew ply the oar with unresting hands. And

he hath gathered in her the mightiest heroes of all Achaea, and hath

come to thy city from wandering far through cities and gulfs of the

dread ocean, in the hope that thou wilt grant him the fleece. But as

thou dost please, so shall it be, for he cometh not to use force, but is

eager to pay thee a recompense for the gift. He has heard from me of thy

bitter foes the Sauromatae, and he will subdue them to thy sway. And if

thou desirest to know their names and lineage I will tell thee all. This

man on whose account the rest were gathered from Hellas, they call

Jason, son of Aeson, whom Cretheus begat. And if in truth he is of the

stock of Cretheus himself, thus he would be our kinsman on the father's

side. For Cretheus and Athamas were both sons of Aeolus; and Phrixus was

the son of Athamas, son of Aeolus. And here, if thou hast heard at all

of the seed of Helios, thou dost behold Augeias; and this is Telamon

sprung from famous Aeacus; and Zeus himself begat Aeacus. And so all the

rest, all the comrades that follow him, are the sons or grandsons of the

immortals."

[Footnote 1: A name of Ares.]

Such was the tale of Argus; but the king at his words was filled with

rage as he heard; and his heart was lifted high in wrath. And he spake

in heavy displeasure; and was angered most of all with the son of

Chalciope; for he deemed that on their account the strangers had come;

and in his fury his eyes flashed forth beneath his brows:

"Begone from my sight, felons, straightway, ye and your tricks, from the

land, ere someone see a fleece and a Phrixus to his sorrow. Banded

together with your friends from Hellas, not for the fleece, but to seize

my sceptre and royal power have ye come hither. Had ye not first tasted

of my table, surely would I have cut out your tongues and hewn off both

hands and sent you forth with your feet alone, so that ye might be

stayed from starting hereafter. And what lies have ye uttered against

the blessed gods!"

Thus he spake in his wrath; and mightily from its depths swelled the

heart of Aeacus' son, and his soul within longed to speak a deadly word

in defiance, but Aeson's son checked him, for he himself first made

gentle answer:

"Aeetes, bear with this armed band, I pray. For not in the way thou

deemest have we come to thy city and palace, no, nor yet with such

desires. For who would of his own will dare to cross so wide a sea for

the goods of a stranger? But fate and the ruthless command of a

presumptuous king urged me. Grant a favour to thy suppliants, and to all

Hellas will I publish a glorious fame of thee; yea, we are ready now to

pay thee a swift recompense in war, whether it be the Sauromatae or some

other people that thou art eager to subdue to thy sway."

He spake, flattering him with gentle utterance; but the king's soul

brooded a twofold purpose within him, whether he should attack and slay

them on the spot or should make trial of their might. And this, as he

pondered, seemed the better way, and he addressed Jason in answer:

"Stranger, why needest thou go through thy tale to the end? For if ye

are in truth of heavenly race, or have come in no wise inferior to me,

to win the goods of strangers, I will give thee the fleece to bear away,

if thou dost wish, when I have tried thee. For against brave men I bear

no grudge, such as ye yourselves tell me of him who bears sway in

Hellas. And the trial of your courage and might shall be a contest which

I myself can compass with my hands, deadly though it be. Two bulls with

feet of bronze I have that pasture on the plain of Ares, breathing forth

flame from their jaws; them do I yoke and drive over the stubborn field

of Ares, four plough-gates; and quickly cleaving it with the share up to

the headland, I cast into the furrows for seed, not the corn of Demeter,

but the teeth of a dread serpent that grow up into the fashion of armed

men; them I slay at once, cutting them down beneath my spear as they

rise against me on all sides. In the morning do I yoke the oxen, and at

eventide I cease from the harvesting. And thou, if thou wilt accomplish

such deeds as these, on that very day shalt carry off the fleece to the

king's palace; ere that time comes I will not give it, expect it not.

For indeed it is unseemly that a brave man should yield to a coward."

Thus he spake; and Jason, fixing his eyes on the ground, sat just as he

was, speechless, helpless in his evil plight. For a long time he turned

the matter this way and that, and could in no way take on him the task

with courage, for a mighty task it seemed; and at last he made reply

with crafty words:

"With thy plea of right, Aeetes, thou dost shut me in overmuch.

Wherefore also I will dare that contest, monstrous as it is, though it

be my doom to die. For nothing will fall upon men more dread than dire

necessity, which indeed constrained me to come hither at a king's

command."

Thus he spake, smitten by his helpless plight; and the king with grim

words addressed him, sore troubled as he was: "Go forth now to the

gathering, since thou art eager for the toil; but if thou shouldst fear

to lift the yoke upon the oxen or shrink from the deadly harvesting,

then all this shall be my care, so that another too may shudder to come

to a man that is better than he."

He spake outright; and Jason rose from his seat, and Augeias and Telamon

at once; and Argus followed alone, for he signed to his brothers to stay

there on the spot meantime; and so they went forth from the hall. And

wonderfully among them all shone the son of Aeson for beauty and grace;

and the maiden looked at him with stealthy glance, holding her bright

veil aside, her heart smouldering with pain; and her soul creeping like

a dream flitted in his track as he went. So they passed forth from the

palace sorely troubled. And Chalciope, shielding herself from the wrath

of Aeetes, had gone quickly to her chamber with her sons. And Medea

likewise followed, and much she brooded in her soul all the cares that

the Loves awaken. And before her eyes the vision still appeared--himself

what like he was, with what vesture he was clad, what things he spake,

how he sat on his seat, how he moved forth to the door--and as she

pondered she deemed there never was such another man; and ever in her

ears rung his voice and the honey-sweet words which he uttered. And she

feared for him, lest the oxen or Aeetes with his own hand should slay

him; and she mourned him as though already slain outright, and in her

affliction a round tear through very grievous pity coursed down her

cheek: and gently weeping she lifted up her voice aloud:

"Why does this grief come upon me, poor wretch? Whether he be the best

of heroes now about to perish, or the worst, let him go to his doom. Yet

I would that he had escaped unharmed; yea, may this be so, revered

goddess, daughter of Perses, may he avoid death and return home; but if

it be his lot to be o'ermastered by the oxen, may he first learn this

that I at least do not rejoice in his cruel calamity."

Thus then was the maiden's heart racked by love-cares. But when the

others had gone forth from the people and the city, along the path by

which at the first they had come from the plain, then Argus addressed

Jason with these words:

"Son of Aeson, thou wilt despise the counsel which I will tell thee,

but, though in evil plight, it is not fitting to forbear from the trial.

Ere now thou hast heard me tell of a maiden that uses sorcery under the

guidance of Hecate, Perses' daughter. If we could win her aid there will

be no dread, methinks, of thy defeat in the contest; but terribly do I

fear that my mother will not take this task upon her. Nevertheless I

will go back again to entreat her, for a common destruction overhangs us

all."

He spake with goodwill, and Jason answered with these words: "Good

friend, if this is good in thy sight, I say not nay. Go and move thy

mother, beseeching her aid with prudent words; pitiful indeed is our

hope when we have put our return in the keeping of women." So he spake,

and quickly they reached the back-water. And their comrades joyfully

questioned them, when they saw them close at hand; and to them spoke

Aeson's son grieved at heart:

"My friends, the heart of ruthless Aeetes is utterly filled with wrath

against us, for not at all can the goal be reached either by me or by

you who question me. He said that two bulls with feet of bronze pasture

on the plain of Ares, breathing forth flame from their jaws. And with

these he bade me plough the field, four plough-gates; and said that he

would give me from a serpent's jaws seed which will raise up earthborn

men in armour of bronze; and on the same day I must slay them. This

task--for there was nothing better to devise--I took on myself

outright."

Thus he spake; and to all the contest seemed one that none could

accomplish, and long, quiet and silent, they looked at one another,

bowed down with the calamity and their despair; but at last Peleus spake

with courageous words among all the chiefs: "It is time to be

counselling what we shall do. Yet there is not so much profit, I trow,

in counsel as in the might of our hands. If thou then, hero son of

Aeson, art minded to yoke Aeetes' oxen, and art eager for the toil,

surely thou wilt keep thy promise and make thyself ready. But if thy

soul trusts not her prowess utterly, then neither bestir thyself nor sit

still and look round for some one else of these men. For it is not I who

will flinch, since the bitterest pain will be but death."

So spake the son of Aeacus; and Telamon's soul was stirred, and quickly

he started up in eagerness; and Idas rose up the third in his pride; and

the twin sons of Tyndareus; and with them Oeneus' son who was numbered

among strong men, though even the soft down on his cheek showed not yet;

with such courage was his soul uplifted. But the others gave way to

these in silence. And straightway Argus spake these words to those that

longed for the contest:

"My friends, this indeed is left us at the last. But I deem that there

will come to you some timely aid from my mother. Wherefore, eager though

ye be, refrain and abide in your ship a little longer as before, for it

is better to forbear than recklessly to choose an evil fate. There is a

maiden, nurtured in the halls of Aeetes, whom the goddess Hecate taught

to handle magic herbs with exceeding skill--all that the land and

flowing waters produce. With them is quenched the blast of unwearied

flame, and at once she stays the course of rivers as they rush roaring

on, and checks the stars and the paths of the sacred moon. Of her we

bethought us as we came hither along the path from the palace, if haply

my mother, her own sister, might persuade her to aid us in the venture.

And if this is pleasing to you as well, surely on this very day will I

return to the palace of Aeetes to make trial; and perchance with some

god's help shall I make the trial."

Thus he spake, and the gods in their goodwill gave them a sign. A

trembling dove in her flight from a mighty hawk fell from on high,

terrified, into the lap of Aeson's son, and the hawk fell impaled on the

stern-ornament. And quickly Mopsus with prophetic words spake among them

all:

"For you, friends, this sign has been wrought by the will of heaven; in

no other way is it possible to interpret its meaning better, than to

seek out the maiden and entreat her with manifold skill. And I think she

will not reject our prayer, if in truth Phineus said that our return

should be with the help of the Cyprian goddess. It was her gentle bird

that escaped death; and as my heart within me foresees according to this

omen, so may it prove! But, my friends, let us call on Cytherea to aid

us, and now at once obey the counsels of Argus."

He spake, and the warriors approved, remembering the injunctions of

Phineus; but all alone leapt up Aphareian Idas and shouted loudly in

terrible wrath: "Shame on us, have we come here fellow-voyagers with

women, calling on Cypris for help and not on the mighty strength of

Enyalius? And do ye look to doves and hawks to save yourselves from

contests? Away with you, take thought not for deeds of war, but by

supplication to beguile weakling girls."

Such were his eager words; and of his comrades many murmured low, but

none uttered a word of answer back. And he sat down in wrath; and at

once Jason roused them and uttered his own thought: "Let Argus set forth

from the ship, since this pleases all; but we will now move from the

river and openly fasten our hawsers to the shore. For surely it is not

fitting for us to hide any longer cowering from the battle-cry."

So he spake, and straightway sent Argus to return in haste to the city;

and they drew the anchors on board at the command of Aeson's son, and

rowed the ship close to the shore, a little away from the back-water.

But straightway Aeetes held an assembly of the Colchians far aloof from

his palace at a spot where they sat in times before, to devise against

the Minyae grim treachery and troubles. And he threatened that when

first the oxen should have torn in pieces the man who had taken upon him

to perform the heavy task, he would hew down the oak grove above the

wooded hill, and burn the ship and her crew, that so they might vent

forth in ruin their grievous insolence, for all their haughty schemes.

For never would he have welcomed the Aeolid Phrixus as a guest in his

halls, in spite of his sore need, Phrixus, who surpassed all strangers

in gentleness and fear of the gods, had not Zeus himself sent Hermes his

messenger down from heaven, so that he might meet with a friendly host;

much less would pirates coming to his land be let go scatheless for

long, men whose care it was to lift their hands and seize the goods of

others, and to weave secret webs of guile, and harry the steadings of

herdsmen with ill-sounding forays. And he said that besides all that the

sons of Phrixus should pay a fitting penalty to himself for returning in

consort with evil-doers, that they might recklessly drive him from his

honour and his throne; for once he had heard a baleful prophecy from his

father Helios, that he must avoid the secret treachery and schemes of

his own offspring and their crafty mischief. Wherefore he was sending

them, as they desired, to the Achaean land at the bidding of their

father--a long journey. Nor had he ever so slight a fear of his

daughters, that they would form some hateful scheme, nor of his son

Apsyrtus; but this curse was being fulfilled in the children of

Chalciope. And he proclaimed terrible things in his rage against the

strangers, and loudly threatened to keep watch over the ship and its

crew, so that no one might escape calamity.

Meantime Argus, going to Aeetes' palace, with manifold pleading besought

his mother to pray Medea's aid; and Chalciope herself already had the

same thoughts, but fear checked her soul lest haply either fate should

withstand and she should entreat her in vain, all distraught as she

would be at her father's deadly wrath, or, if Medea yielded to her

prayers, her deeds should be laid bare and open to view.

Now a deep slumber had relieved the maiden from her love-pains as she

lay upon her couch. But straightway fearful dreams, deceitful, such as

trouble one in grief, assailed her. And she thought that the stranger

had taken on him the contest, not because he longed to win the ram's

fleece, and that he had not come on that account to Aeetes' city, but to

lead her away, his wedded wife, to his own home; and she dreamed that

herself contended with the oxen and wrought the task with exceeding

ease; and that her own parents set at naught their promise, for it was

not the maiden they had challenged to yoke the oxen but the stranger

himself; from that arose a contention of doubtful issue between her

father and the strangers; and both laid the decision upon her, to be as

she should direct in her mind. But she suddenly, neglecting her parents,

chose the stranger. And measureless anguish seized them and they shouted

out in their wrath; and with the cry sleep released its hold upon her.

Quivering with fear she started up, and stared round the walls of her

chamber, and with difficulty did she gather her spirit within her as

before, and lifted her voice aloud:

"Poor wretch, how have gloomy dreams affrighted me! I fear that this

voyage of the heroes will bring some great evil. My heart is trembling

for the stranger. Let him woo some Achaean girl fair away among his own

folk; let maidenhood be mine and the home of my parents. Yet, taking to

myself a reckless heart, I will no more keep aloof but will make trial

of my sister to see if she will entreat me to aid in the contest,

through grief for her own sons; this would quench the bitter pain in my

heart."

She spake, and rising from her bed opened the door of her chamber,

bare-footed, clad in one robe; and verily she desired to go to her

sister, and crossed the threshold. And for long she stayed there at the

entrance of her chamber, held back by shame; and she turned back once

more; and again she came forth from within, and again stole back; and

idly did her feet bear her this way and that; yea, as oft as she went

straight on, shame held her within the chamber, and though held back by

shame, bold desire kept urging her on. Thrice she made the attempt and

thrice she checked herself, the fourth time she fell on her bed face

downward writhing in pain. And as when a bride in her chamber bewails

her youthful husband, to whom her brothers and parents have given her,

nor yet does she hold converse with all her attendants for shame and for

thinking of him; but she sits apart in her grief; and some doom has

destroyed him, before they have had pleasure of each other's charms; and

she with heart on fire silently weeps, beholding her widowed couch, in

fear lest the women should mock and revile her: like, to her did Medea

lament. And suddenly as she was in the midst of her tears, one of the

handmaids came forth and noticed her, one who was her youthful

attendant; and straightway she told Chalciope, who sat in the midst of

her sons devising how to win over her sister. And when Chalciope heard

the strange tale from the handmaid, not even so did she disregard it.

And she rushed in dismay from her chamber right on to the chamber where

the maiden lay in her anguish, having torn her cheeks on each side; and

when Chalciope saw her eyes all dimmed with tears, she thus addressed

her:

"Ah me, Medea, why dost thou weep so? What hath befallen thee? What

terrible grief has entered thy heart? Has some heaven-sent disease

enwrapt thy frame, or hast thou heard from our father some deadly threat

concerning me and my sons? Would that I did not behold this home of my

parents, or the city, but dwelt at the ends of the earth, where not even

the name of Colchians is known!"

Thus she spake, and her sister's cheeks flushed; and though she was

eager to reply, long did maiden shame restrain her. At one moment the

word rose on the end of her tongue, at another it fluttered back deep

within her breast. And often through her lovely lips it strove for

utterance; but no sound came forth; till at last she spoke with guileful

words; for the bold Loves were pressing her hard:

"Chalciope, my heart is all trembling for thy sons, lest my father

forthwith destroy them together with the strangers. Slumbering just now

in a short-lived sleep such a ghastly dream did I see--may some god

forbid its fulfilment and never mayst thou win for thyself bitter care

on thy sons' account."

She spake, making trial of her sister to see if she first would entreat

help for her sons. And utterly unbearable grief surged over Chalciope's

soul for fear at what she heard; and then she replied: "Yea, I myself

too have come to thee in eager furtherance of this purpose, if thou

wouldst haply devise with me and prepare some help. But swear by Earth

and Heaven that thou wilt keep secret in thy heart what I shall tell

thee, and be fellow-worker with me. I implore thee by the blessed gods,

by thyself and by thy parents, not to see them destroyed by an evil doom

piteously; or else may I die with my dear sons and come back hereafter

from Hades an avenging Fury to haunt thee."

Thus she spake, and straightway a torrent of tears gushed forth, and low

down she clasped her sister's knees with both hands and let her head

sink on to her breast. Then they both made piteous lamentation over each

other, and through the halls rose the faint sound of women weeping in

anguish. Medea, sore troubled, first addressed her sister:

"God help thee, what healing can I bring thee for what thou speakest of,

horrible curses and Furies? Would that it were firmly in my power to

save thy sons! Be witness that mighty oath of the Colchians by which

thou urgest me to swear, the great Heaven, and Earth beneath, mother of

the gods, that as far as strength lies in me, never shalt thou fail of

help, if only thy prayers can be accomplished."

She spake, and Chalciope thus replied: "Couldst thou not then, for the

stranger--who himself craves thy aid--devise some trick or some wise

thought to win the contest, for the sake of my sons? And from him has

come Argus urging me to try to win thy help; I left him in the palace

meantime while I came hither."

Thus she spake, and Medea's heart bounded with joy within her, and at

once her fair cheeks flushed, and a mist swam before her melting eyes,

and she spake as follows: "Chalciope, as is dear and delightful to thee

and thy sons, even so will I do. Never may the dawn appear again to my

eyes, never mayst thou see me living any longer, if I should take

thought for anything before thy life or thy sons' lives, for they are my

brothers, my dear kinsmen and youthful companions. So do I declare

myself to be thy sister, and thy daughter too, for thou didst lift me to

thy breast when an infant equally with them, as I ever heard from my

mother in past days. But go, bury my kindness in silence, so that I may

carry out my promise unknown to my parents; and at dawn I will bring to

Hecate's temple charms to cast a spell upon the bulls."

Thus Chalciope went back from the chamber, and made known to her sons

the help given by her sister. And again did shame and hateful fear seize

Medea thus left alone, that she should devise such deeds for a man in

her father's despite.

Then did night draw darkness over the earth; and on the sea sailors from

their ships looked towards the Bear and the stars of Orion; and now the

wayfarer and the warder longed for sleep, and the pall of slumber

wrapped round the mother whose children were dead; nor was there any

more the barking of dogs through the city, nor sound of men's voices;

but silence held the blackening gloom. But not indeed upon Medea came

sweet sleep. For in her love for Aeson's son many cares kept her

wakeful, and she dreaded the mighty strength of the bulls, beneath whose

fury he was like to perish by an unseemly fate in the field of Ares. And

fast did her heart throb within her breast, as a sunbeam quivers upon

the walls of a house when flung up from water, which is just poured

forth in a caldron or a pail may be; and hither and thither on the swift

eddy does it dart and dance along; even so the maiden's heart quivered

in her breast. And the tear of pity flowed from her eyes, and ever

within anguish tortured her, a smouldering fire through her frame, and

about her fine nerves and deep down beneath the nape of the neck where

the pain enters keenest, whenever the unwearied Loves direct against the

heart their shafts of agony. And she thought now that she would give him

the charms to cast a spell on the bulls, now that she would not, and

that she herself would perish; and again that she would not perish and

would not give the charms, but just as she was would endure her fate in

silence. Then sitting down she wavered in mind and said:

"Poor wretch, must I toss hither and thither in woe? On every side my

heart is in despair; nor is there any help for my pain; but it burneth

ever thus. Would that I had been slain by the swift shafts of Artemis

before I had set eyes on him, before Chalciope's sons reached the

Achaean land. Some god or some Fury brought them hither for our grief, a

cause of many tears. Let him perish in the contest if it be his lot to

die in the field. For how could I prepare the charms without my parents'

knowledge? What story can I tell them? What trick, what cunning device

for aid can I find? If I see him alone, apart from his comrades, shall I

greet him? Ill-starred that I am! I cannot hope that I should rest from

my sorrows even though he perished; then will evil come to me when he is

bereft of life. Perish all shame, perish all glory; may he, saved by my

effort, go scatheless wherever his heart desires. But as for me, on the

day when he bides the contest in triumph, may I die either straining my

neck in the noose from the roof-tree or tasting drugs destructive of

life. But even so, when I am dead, they will fling out taunts against

me; and every city far away will ring with my doom, and the Colchian

women, tossing my name on their lips hither and thither, will revile me

with unseemly mocking--the maid who cared so much for a stranger that

she died, the maid who disgraced her home and her parents, yielding to a

mad passion. And what disgrace will not be mine? Alas for my

infatuation! Far better would it be for me to forsake life this very

night in my chamber by some mysterious fate, escaping all slanderous

reproach, before I complete such nameless dishonour."

She spake, and brought a casket wherein lay many drugs, some for

healing, others for killing, and placing it upon her knees she wept. And

she drenched her bosom with ceaseless tears, which flowed in torrents as

she sat, bitterly bewailing her own fate. And she longed to choose a

murderous drug to taste it, and now she was loosening the bands of the

casket eager to take it forth, unhappy maid! But suddenly a deadly fear

of hateful Hades came upon her heart. And long she held back in

speechless horror, and all around her thronged visions of the pleasing

cares of life. She thought of all the delightful things that are among

the living, she thought of her joyous playmates, as a maiden will; and

the sun grew sweeter than ever to behold, seeing that in truth her soul

yearned for all. And she put the casket again from off her knees, all

changed by the prompting of Hera, and no more did she waver in purpose;

but longed for the rising dawn to appear quickly, that she might give

him the charms to work the spell as she had promised, and meet him face

to face. And often did she loosen the bolts of her door, to watch for

the faint gleam: and welcome to her did the dayspring shed its light,

and folk began to stir throughout the city.

Then Argus bade his brothers remain there to learn the maiden's mind and

plans, but himself turned back and went to the ship.

Now soon as ever the maiden saw the light of dawn, with her hands she

gathered up her golden tresses which were floating round her shoulders

in careless disarray, and bathed her tear-stained cheeks, and made her

skin shine with ointment sweet as nectar; and she donned a beautiful

robe, fitted with well-bent clasps, and above on her head, divinely

fair, she threw a veil gleaming like silver. And there, moving to and

fro in the palace, she trod the ground forgetful of the heaven-sent woes

thronging round her and of others that were destined to follow. And she

called to her maids. Twelve they were, who lay during the night in the

vestibule of her fragrant chamber, young as herself, not yet sharing the

bridal couch, and she bade them hastily yoke the mules to the chariot to

bear her to the beauteous shrine of Hecate. Thereupon the handmaids were

making ready the chariot; and Medea meanwhile took from the hollow

casket a charm which men say is called the charm of Prometheus. If a man

should anoint his body therewithal, having first appeased the Maiden,

the only-begotten, with sacrifice by night, surely that man could not be

wounded by the stroke of bronze nor would he flinch from blazing fire;

but for that day he would prove superior both in prowess and in might.

It shot up first-born when the ravening eagle on the rugged flanks of

Caucasus let drip to the earth the blood-like ichor[1] of tortured

Prometheus. And its flower appeared a cubit above ground in colour like

the Corycian crocus, rising on twin stalks; but in the earth the root

was like newly-cut flesh. The dark juice of it, like the sap of a

mountain-oak, she had gathered in a Caspian shell to make the charm

withal, when she had first bathed in seven ever-flowing streams, and had

called seven times on Brimo, nurse of youth, night-wandering Brimo, of

the underworld, queen among the dead,--in the gloom of night, clad in

dusky garments. And beneath, the dark earth shook and bellowed when the

Titanian root was cut; and the son of Iapetus himself groaned, his soul

distraught with pain. And she brought the charm forth and placed it in

the fragrant band which engirdled her, just beneath her bosom, divinely

fair. And going forth she mounted the swift chariot, and with her went

two handmaidens on each side. And she herself took the reins and in her

right hand the well-fashioned whip, and drove through the city; and the

rest, the handmaids, laid their hands on the chariot behind and ran

along the broad highway; and they kilted up their light robes above

their white knees. And even as by the mild waters of Parthenius, or

after bathing in the river Amnisus, Leto's daughter stands upon her

golden chariot and courses over the hills with her swift-footed roes, to

greet from afar some richly-steaming hecatomb; and with her come the

nymphs in attendance, gathering, some at the spring of Amnisus itself,

others by the glens and many-fountained peaks; and round her whine and

fawn the beasts cowering as she moves along: thus they sped through the

city; and on both sides the people gave way shunning the eyes of the

royal maiden. But when she had left the city's well paved streets, and

was approaching the shrine as she drove over the plains, then she

alighted eagerly from the smooth-running chariot and spake as follows

among her maidens:

[Footnote 1: i.e. the liquid that flows in the veins of gods.]

"Friends, verily have I sinned greatly and took no heed not to go among

the stranger-folk[1] who roam over our land. The whole city is smitten

with dismay; wherefore no one of the women who formerly gathered here

day by day has now come hither. But since we have come and no one else

draws near, come, let us satisfy our souls without stint with soothing

song, and when we have plucked the fair flowers amid the tender grass,

that very hour will we return. And with many a gift shall ye reach home

this very day, if ye will gladden me with this desire of mine. For Argus

pleads with me, also Chalciope herself; but this that ye hear from me

keep silently in your hearts, lest the tale reach my father's ears. As

for yon stranger who took on him the task with the oxen, they bid me

receive his gifts and rescue him from the deadly contest. And I approved

their counsel, and I have summoned him to come to my presence apart from

his comrades, so that we may divide the gifts among ourselves if he

bring them in his hands, and in return may give him a baleful charm. But

when he comes, do ye stand aloof."

[Footnote 1: Or, reading [Greek: mênim], "took no heed of the cause of

wrath with the stranger-folk"]

So she spake, and the crafty counsel pleased them all. And straightway

Argus drew Aeson's son apart from his comrades as soon as he heard from

his brothers that Medea had gone at daybreak to the holy shrine of

Hecate, and led him over the plain; and with them went Mopsus, son of

Ampycus, skilled to utter oracles from the appearance of birds, and

skilled to give good counsel to those who set out on a journey.

Never yet had there been such a man in the days of old, neither of all

the heroes of the lineage of Zeus himself, nor of those who sprung from

the blood of the other gods, as on that day the bride of Zeus made

Jason, both to look upon and to hold converse with. Even his comrades

wondered as they gazed upon him, radiant with manifold graces; and the

son of Ampycus rejoiced in their journey, already foreboding how all

would end.

Now by the path along the plain there stands near the shrine a poplar

with its crown of countless leaves, whereon often chattering crows would

roost. One of them meantime as she clapped her wings aloft in the

brandies uttered the counsels of Hera:

"What a pitiful seer is this, that has not the wit to conceive even what

children know, how that no maiden will say a word of sweetness or love

to a youth when strangers be near. Begone, sorry prophet, witless one;

on thee neither Cypris nor the gentle Loves breathe in their kindness."

She spake chiding, and Mopsus smiled to hear the god-sent voice of the

bird, and thus addressed them: "Do thou, son of Aeson, pass on to the

temple, where thou wilt find the maiden; and very kind will her greeting

be to thee through the prompting of Cypris, who will be thy helpmate in

the contest, even as Phineus, Agenor's son, foretold. But we two, Argus

and I, will await thy return, apart in this very spot do thou all alone

be a suppliant and win her over with prudent words."