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The Argonautica

by Rhodius Apollonius · English · Gutenberg #830 · 352,779 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Argonautica

Author: Rhodius Apollonius

Translator: R. C. Seaton


        
Release date: February 1, 1997 [eBook #830]
                Most recently updated: June 22, 2020

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/830

Credits: Produced by Douglas B. Killings, and David Widger


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGONAUTICA ***




Produced by Douglas B. Killings, and David Widger

[Illustration] 




The Argonautica

by Apollonius Rhodius


Originally written in Ancient Greek sometime in the 3rd Century B.C. by the
Alexandrian poet Apollonius Rhodius (“Apollonius the Rhodian”).
Translation by R.C. Seaton, 1912.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY: ORIGINAL TEXT—

Seaton, R.C. (Ed. & Trans.): “Apollonius Rhodius: Argonautica”
(Harvard University Press, Cambridge MA, 1912). Original Greek text with
side-by-side English translation.

OTHER TRANSLATIONS—

Rieu, E.V. (Trans.): “Apollonius of Rhodes: The Voyage of the Argo”
(Penguin Classics, London, 1959, 1971).

RECOMMENDED READING—

Euripides: “Medea”, “Hecabe”, “Electra”,
and “Heracles”, translated by Philip Vellacott (Penguin Classics,
London, 1963). Contains four plays by Euripides, two of which concern
characters from “The Argonautica”.

Contents

 INTRODUCTION
 THE ARGONAUTICA
 BOOK I
 BOOK II
 BOOK III
 BOOK IV
 ENDNOTES




INTRODUCTION


Much has been written about the chronology of Alexandrian literature
and the famous Library, founded by Ptolemy Soter, but the dates of the
chief writers are still matters of conjecture. The birth of Apollonius
Rhodius is placed by scholars at various times between 296 and 260
B.C., while the year of his death is equally uncertain. In fact, we
have very little information on the subject. There are two “lives” of
Apollonius in the Scholia, both derived from an earlier one which is
lost. From these we learn that he was of Alexandria by birth,[1] that
he lived in the time of the Ptolemies, and was a pupil of Callimachus;
that while still a youth he composed and recited in public his
_Argonautica_, and that the poem was condemned, in consequence of which
he retired to Rhodes; that there he revised his poem, recited it with
great applause, and hence called himself a Rhodian. The second “life”
adds: “Some say that he returned to Alexandria and again recited his
poem with the utmost success, so that he was honoured with the
libraries of the Museum and was buried with Callimachus.” The last
sentence may be interpreted by the notice of Suidas, who informs us
that Apollonius was a contemporary of Eratosthenes, Euphorion and
Timarchus, in the time of Ptolemy Euergetes, and that he succeeded
Eratosthenes in the headship of the Alexandrian Library. Suidas also
informs us elsewhere that Aristophanes at the age of sixty-two
succeeded Apollonius in this office. Many modern scholars deny the
“bibliothecariate” of Apollonius for chronological reasons, and there
is considerable difficulty about it. The date of Callimachus’ _Hymn to
Apollo_, which closes with some lines (105-113) that are admittedly an
allusion to Apollonius, may be put with much probability at 248 or 247
B.C. Apollonius must at that date have been at least twenty years old.
Eratosthenes died 196-193 B.C. This would make Apollonius seventy-two
to seventy-five when he succeeded Eratosthenes. This is not impossible,
it is true, but it is difficult. But the difficulty is taken away if we
assume with Ritschl that Eratosthenes resigned his office some years
before his death, which allows us to put the birth of Apollonius at
about 280, and would solve other difficulties. For instance, if the
Librarians were buried within the precincts, it would account for the
burial of Apollonius next to Callimachus—Eratosthenes being still
alive. However that may be, it is rather arbitrary to take away the
“bibliothecariate” of Apollonius, which is clearly asserted by Suidas,
on account of chronological calculations which are themselves
uncertain. Moreover, it is more probable that the words following “some
say” in the second “life” are a remnant of the original life than a
conjectural addition, because the first “life” is evidently incomplete,
nothing being said about the end of Apollonius’ career.

The principal event in his life, so far as we know, was the quarrel
with his master Callimachus, which was most probably the cause of his
condemnation at Alexandria and departure to Rhodes. This quarrel
appears to have arisen from differences of literary aims and taste,
but, as literary differences often do, degenerated into the bitterest
personal strife. There are references to the quarrel in the writings of
both. Callimachus attacks Apollonius in the passage at the end of the
_Hymn to Apollo_, already mentioned, also probably in some epigrams,
but most of all in his _Ibis_, of which we have an imitation, or
perhaps nearly a translation, in Ovid’s poem of the same name. On the
part of Apollonius there is a passage in the third book of the
_Argonautica_ (ll. 927-947) which is of a polemical nature and stands
out from the context, and the well-known savage epigram upon
Callimachus.[2] Various combinations have been attempted by scholars,
notably by Couat, in his _Poésie Alexandrine_, to give a connected
account of the quarrel, but we have not _data_ sufficient to determine
the order of the attacks, and replies, and counter-attacks. The _Ibis_
has been thought to mark the termination of the feud on the curious
ground that it was impossible for abuse to go further. It was an age
when literary men were more inclined to comment on writings of the past
than to produce original work. Literature was engaged in taking stock
of itself. Homer was, of course, professedly admired by all, but more
admired than imitated. Epic poetry was out of fashion and we find many
epigrams of this period—some by Callimachus—directed against the
“cyclic” poets, by whom were meant at that time those who were always
dragging in conventional and commonplace epithets and phrases peculiar
to epic poetry. Callimachus was in accordance with the spirit of the
age when he proclaimed “a great book” to be “a great evil”, and sought
to confine poetical activity within the narrowest limits both of
subject and space. Theocritus agreed with him, both in principle and
practice. The chief characteristics of Alexandrianism are well
summarized by Professor Robinson Ellis as follows: “Precision in form
and metre, refinement in diction, a learning often degenerating into
pedantry and obscurity, a resolute avoidance of everything commonplace
in subject, sentiment or allusion.” These traits are more prominent in
Callimachus than in Apollonius, but they are certainly to be seen in
the latter. He seems to have written the _Argonautica_ out of bravado,
to show that he _could_ write an epic poem. But the influence of the
age was too strong. Instead of the unity of an Epic we have merely a
series of episodes, and it is the great beauty and power of one of
these episodes that gives the poem its permanent value—the episode of
the love of Jason and Medea. This occupies the greater part of the
third book. The first and second books are taken up with the history of
the voyage to Colchis, while the fourth book describes the return
voyage. These portions constitute a metrical guide book, filled no
doubt with many pleasing episodes, such as the rape of Hylas, the
boxing match between Pollux and Amyeus, the account of Cyzicus, the
account of the Amazons, the legend of Talos, but there is no unity
running through the poem beyond that of the voyage itself.

The Tale of the Argonauts had been told often before in verse and
prose, and many authors’ names are given in the Scholia to Apollonius,
but their works have perished. The best known earlier account that we
have is that in Pindar’s fourth Pythian ode, from which Apollonius has
taken many details. The subject was one for an epic poem, for its unity
might have been found in the working out of the expiation due for the
crime of Athamas; but this motive is barely mentioned by our author.

As we have it, the motive of the voyage is the command of Pelias to
bring back the golden fleece, and this command is based on Pelias’
desire to destroy Jason, while the divine aid given to Jason results
from the intention of Hera to punish Pelias for his neglect of the
honour due to her. The learning of Apollonius is not deep but it is
curious; his general sentiments are not according to the Alexandrian
standard, for they are simple and obvious. In the mass of material from
which he had to choose the difficulty was to know what to omit, and
much skill is shown in fusing into a tolerably harmonious whole
conflicting mythological and historical details. He interweaves with
his narrative local legends and the founding of cities, accounts of
strange customs, descriptions of works of art, such as that of Ganymede
and Eros playing with knucklebones,[3] but prosaically calls himself
back to the point from these pleasing digressions by such an expression
as “but this would take me too far from my song.” His business is the
straightforward tale and nothing else. The astonishing geography of the
fourth book reminds us of the interest of the age in that subject,
stimulated no doubt by the researches of Eratosthenes and others.

The language is that of the conventional epic. Apollonius seems to have
carefully studied Homeric glosses, and gives many examples of isolated
uses, but his choice of words is by no means limited to Homer. He
freely avails himself of Alexandrian words and late uses of Homeric
words. Among his contemporaries Apollonius suffers from a comparison
with Theocritus, who was a little his senior, but he was much admired
by Roman writers who derived inspiration from the great classical
writers of Greece by way of Alexandria. In fact Alexandria was a useful
bridge between Athens and Rome. The _Argonautica_ was translated by
Varro Atacinus, copied by Ovid and Virgil, and minutely studied by
Valerius Flaccus in his poem of the same name. Some of his finest
passages have been appropriated and improved upon by Virgil by the
divine right of superior genius.[4] The subject of love had been
treated in the romantic spirit before the time of Apollonius in
writings that have perished, for instance, in those of Antimachus of
Colophon, but the _Argonautica_ is perhaps the first poem still extant
in which the expression of this spirit is developed with elaboration.
The Medea of Apollonius is the direct precursor of the Dido of Virgil,
and it is the pathos and passion of the fourth book of the “Aeneid”
that keep alive many a passage of Apollonius.




THE ARGONAUTICA

BOOK I


Beginning with thee, O Phoebus, I will recount the famous deeds of men
of old, who, at the behest of King Pelias, down through the mouth of
Pontus and between the Cyanean rocks, sped well-benched Argo in quest
of the golden fleece.

Such was the oracle that Pelias heard, that a hateful doom awaited him
to be slain at the prompting of the man whom he should see coming forth
from the people with but one sandal. And no long time after, in
accordance with that true report, Jason crossed the stream of wintry
Anaurus on foot, and saved one sandal from the mire, but the other he
left in the depths held back by the flood. And straightway he came to
Pelias to share the banquet which the king was offering to his father
Poseidon and the rest of the gods, though he paid no honour to
Pelasgian Hera. Quickly the king saw him and pondered, and devised for
him the toil of a troublous voyage, in order that on the sea or among
strangers he might lose his home-return.

The ship, as former bards relate, Argus wrought by the guidance of
Athena. But now I will tell the lineage and the names of the heroes,
and of the long sea-paths and the deeds they wrought in their
wanderings; may the Muses be the inspirers of my song!

First then let us name Orpheus whom once Calliope bare, it is said,
wedded to Thracian Oeagrus, near the Pimpleian height. Men say that he
by the music of his songs charmed the stubborn rocks upon the mountains
and the course of rivers. And the wild oak-trees to this day, tokens of
that magic strain, that grow at Zone on the Thracian shore, stand in
ordered ranks close together, the same which under the charm of his
lyre he led down from Pieria. Such then was Orpheus whom Aeson’s son
welcomed to share his toils, in obedience to the behest of Cheiron,
Orpheus ruler of Bistonian Pieria.

Straightway came Asterion, whom Cometes begat by the waters of eddying
Apidanus; he dwelt at Peiresiae near the Phylleian mount, where mighty
Apidanus and bright Enipeus join their streams, coming together from
afar.

Next to them from Larisa came Polyphemus, son of Eilatus, who aforetime
among the mighty Lapithae, when they were arming themselves against the
Centaurs, fought in his younger days; now his limbs were grown heavy
with age, but his martial spirit still remained, even as of old.

Nor was Iphiclus long left behind in Phylace, the uncle of Aeson’s son;
for Aeson had wedded his sister Alcimede, daughter of Phylacus: his
kinship with her bade him be numbered in the host.

Nor did Admetus, the lord of Pherae rich in sheep, stay behind beneath
the peak of the Chalcodonian mount.

Nor at Alope stayed the sons of Hermes, rich in corn-land, well skilled
in craftiness, Erytus and Echion, and with them on their departure
their kinsman Aethalides went as the third; him near the streams of
Amphrysus Eupolemeia bare, the daughter of Myrmidon, from Phthia; the
two others were sprung from Antianeira, daughter of Menetes.

From rich Gyrton came Coronus, son of Caeneus, brave, but not braver
than his father. For bards relate that Caeneus though still living
perished at the hands of the Centaurs, when apart from other chiefs he
routed them; and they, rallying against him, could neither bend nor
slay him; but unconquered and unflinching he passed beneath the earth,
overwhelmed by the downrush of massy pines.

There came too Titaresian Mopsus, whom above all men the son of Leto
taught the augury of birds; and Eurydamas the son of Ctimenus; he dwelt
at Dolopian Ctimene near the Xynian lake.

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

Eurytion followed and strong Eribotes, one the son of Teleon, the other
of Irus, Actor’s son; the son of Teleon renowned Eribotes, and of Irus
Eurytion. A third with them was Oileus, peerless in courage and well
skilled to attack the flying foe, when they break their ranks.

Now from Euboea came Canthus eager for the quest, whom Canethus son of
Abas sent; but he was not destined to return to Cerinthus. For fate had
ordained that he and Mopsus, skilled in the seer’s art, should wander
and perish in the furthest ends of Libya. For no ill is too remote for
mortals to incur, seeing that they buried them in Libya, as far from
the Colchians as is the space that is seen between the setting and the
rising of the sun.

To him Clytius and Iphitus joined themselves, the warders of Oechalia,
sons of Eurytus the ruthless, Eurytus, to whom the Far-shooting god
gave his bow; but he had no joy of the gift; for of his own choice he
strove even with the giver.

After them came the sons of Aeacus, not both together, nor from the
same spot; for they settled far from Aegina in exile, when in their
folly they had slain their brother Phoeus. Telamon dwelt in the Attic
island; but Peleus departed and made his home in Phthia.

After them from Cecropia came warlike Butes, son of brave Teleon, and
Phalerus of the ashen spear. Alcon his father sent him forth; yet no
other sons had he to care for his old age and livelihood. But him, his
well-beloved and only son, he sent forth that amid bold heroes he might
shine conspicuous. But Theseus, who surpassed all the sons of
Erechtheus, an unseen bond kept beneath the land of Taenarus, for he
had followed that path with Peirithous; assuredly both would have
lightened for all the fulfilment of their toil.

Tiphys, son of Hagnias, left the Siphaean people of the Thespians, well
skilled to foretell the rising wave on the broad sea, and well skilled
to infer from sun and star the stormy winds and the time for sailing.
Tritonian Athena herself urged him to join the band of chiefs, and he
came among them a welcome comrade. She herself too fashioned the swift
ship; and with her Argus, son of Arestor, wrought it by her counsels.
Wherefore it proved the most excellent of all ships that have made
trial of the sea with oars.

After them came Phlias from Araethyrea, where he dwelt in affluence by
the favour of his father Dionysus, in his home by the springs of
Asopus.

From Argos came Talaus and Areius, sons of Bias, and mighty Leodocus,
all of whom Pero daughter of Neleus bare; on her account the Aeolid
Melampus endured sore affliction in the steading of Iphiclus.

Nor do we learn that Heracles of the mighty heart disregarded the eager
summons of Aeson’s son. But when he heard a report of the heroes’
gathering and had reached Lyrceian Argos from Arcadia by the road along
which he carried the boar alive that fed in the thickets of Lampeia,
near the vast Erymanthian swamp, the boar bound with chains he put down
from his huge shoulders at the entrance to the market-place of Mycenae;
and himself of his own will set out against the purpose of Eurystheus;
and with him went Hylas, a brave comrade, in the flower of youth, to
bear his arrows and to guard his bow.

Next to him came a scion of the race of divine Danaus, Nauplius. He was
the son of Clytonaeus son of Naubolus; Naubolus was son of Lernus;
Lernus we know was the son of Proetus son of Nauplius; and once Amymone
daughter of Danaus, wedded to Poseidon, bare Nauplius, who surpassed
all men in naval skill.

Idmon came last of all them that dwelt at Argos, for though he had
learnt his own fate by augury, he came, that the people might not
grudge him fair renown. He was not in truth the son of Abas, but Leto’s
son himself begat him to be numbered among the illustrious Aeolids; and
himself taught him the art of prophecy—to pay heed to birds and to
observe the signs of the burning sacrifice.

Moreover Aetolian Leda sent from Sparta strong Polydeuces and Castor,
skilled to guide swift-footed steeds; these her dearly-loved sons she
bare at one birth in the house of Tyndareus; nor did she forbid their
departure; for she had thoughts worthy of the bride of Zeus.

The sons of Aphareus, Lynceus and proud Idas, came from Arene, both
exulting in their great strength; and Lynceus too excelled in keenest
sight, if the report is true that that hero could easily direct his
sight even beneath the earth.

And with them Neleian Periclymenus set out to come, eldest of all the
sons of godlike Neleus who were born at Pylos; Poseidon had given him
boundless strength and granted him that whatever shape he should crave
during the fight, that he should take in the stress of battle.

Moreover from Arcadia came Amphidamas and Cepheus, who inhabited Tegea
and the allotment of Apheidas, two sons of Aldus; and Ancaeus followed
them as the third, whom his father Lycurgus sent, the brother older
than both. But he was left in the city to care for Aleus now growing
old, while he gave his son to join his brothers. Antaeus went clad in
the skin of a Maenalian bear, and wielding in his right hand a huge
two-edged battleaxe. For his armour his grandsire had hidden in the
house’s innermost recess, to see if he might by some means still stay
his departure.

There came also Augeias, whom fame declared to be the son of Helios; he
reigned over the Eleans, glorying in his wealth; and greatly he desired
to behold the Colchian land and Aeetes himself the ruler of the
Colchians.

Asterius and Amphion, sons of Hyperasius, came from Achaean Pellene,
which once Pelles their grandsire founded on the brows of Aegialus.

After them from Taenarus came Euphemus whom, most swift-footed of men,
Europe, daughter of mighty Tityos, bare to Poseidon. He was wont to
skim the swell of the grey sea, and wetted not his swift feet, but just
dipping the tips of his toes was borne on the watery path.

Yea, and two other sons of Poseidon came; one Erginus, who left the
citadel of glorious Miletus, the other proud Ancaeus, who left
Parthenia, the seat of Imbrasion Hera; both boasted their skill in
seacraft and in war.

After them from Calydon came the son of Oeneus, strong Meleagrus, and
Laocoon—Laocoon the brother of Oeneus, though not by the same mother,
for a serving-woman bare him; him, now growing old, Oeneus sent to
guard his son: thus Meleagrus, still a youth, entered the bold band of
heroes. No other had come superior to him, I ween, except Heracles, if
for one year more he had tarried and been nurtured among the Aetolians.
Yea, and his uncle, well skilled to fight whether with the javelin or
hand to hand, Iphiclus son of Thestius, bare him company on his way.

With him came Palaemonius, son of Olenian Lernus, of Lernus by repute,
but his birth was from Hephaestus; and so he was crippled in his feet,
but his bodily frame and his valour no one would dare to scorn.
Wherefore he was numbered among all the chiefs, winning fame for Jason.

From the Phocians came Iphitus sprung from Naubolus son of Ornytus;
once he had been his host when Jason went to Pytho to ask for a
response concerning his voyage; for there he welcomed him in his own
hails.

Next came Zetes and Calais, sons of Boreas, whom once Oreithyia,
daughter of Erechtheus, bare to Boreas on the verge of wintry Thrace;
thither it was that Thracian Boreas snatched her away from Cecropia as
she was whirling in the dance, hard by Hissus’ stream. And, carrying
her far off, to the spot that men called the rock of Sarpedon, near the
river Erginus, he wrapped her in dark clouds and forced her to his
will. There they were making their dusky wings quiver upon their ankles
on both sides as they rose, a great wonder to behold, wings that
gleamed with golden scales: and round their backs from the top of the
head and neck, hither and thither, their dark tresses were being shaken
by the wind.

No, nor had Acastus son of mighty Pelias himself any will to stay
behind in the palace of his brave sire, nor Argus, helper of the
goddess Athena; but they too were ready to be numbered in the host.

So many then were the helpers who assembled to join the son of Aeson.
All the chiefs the dwellers thereabout called Minyae, for the most and
the bravest avowed that they were sprung from the blood of the
daughters of Minyas; thus Jason himself was the son of Alcimede who was
born of Clymene the daughter of Minyas.

Now when all things had been made ready by the thralls, all things that
fully-equipped ships are furnished withal when men’s business leads
them to voyage across the sea, then the heroes took their way through
the city to the ship where it lay on the strand that men call Magnesian
Pagasae; and a crowd of people hastening rushed together; but the
heroes shone like gleaming stars among the clouds; and each man as he
saw them speeding along with their armour would say:

“King Zeus, what is the purpose of Pelias? Whither is he driving forth
from the Panachaean land so great a host of heroes? On one day they
would waste the palace of Aeetes with baleful fire, should he not yield
them the fleece of his own goodwill. But the path is not to be shunned,
the toil is hard for those who venture.”

Thus they spake here and there throughout the city; but the women often
raised their hands to the sky in prayer to the immortals to grant a
return, their hearts’ desire. And one with tears thus lamented to her
fellow:

“Wretched Alcimede, evil has come to thee at last though late, thou
hast not ended with splendour of life. Aeson too, ill-fated man! Surely
better had it been for him, if he were lying beneath the earth,
enveloped in his shroud, still unconscious of bitter toils. Would that
the dark wave, when the maiden Helle perished, had overwhelmed Phrixus
too with the ram; but the dire portent even sent forth a human voice,
that it might cause to Alcimede sorrows and countless pains hereafter.”

Thus the women spake at the departure of the heroes. And now many
thralls, men and women, were gathered together, and his mother, smitten
with grief for Jason. And a bitter pang seized every woman’s heart; and
with them groaned the father in baleful old age, lying on his bed,
closely wrapped round. But the hero straightway soothed their pain,
encouraging them, and bade the thralls take up his weapons for war; and
they in silence with downcast looks took them up. And even as the
mother had thrown her arms about her son, so she clung, weeping without
stint, as a maiden all alone weeps, falling fondly on the neck of her
hoary nurse, a maid who has now no others to care for her, but she
drags on a weary life under a stepmother, who maltreats her continually
with ever fresh insults, and as she weeps, her heart within her is
bound fast with misery, nor can she sob forth all the groans that
struggle for utterance; so without stint wept Alcimede straining her
son in her arms, and in her yearning grief spake as follows:

“Would that on that day when, wretched woman that I am, I heard King
Pelias proclaim his evil behest, I had straightway given up my life and
forgotten my cares, so that thou thyself, my son, with thine own hands,
mightest have buried me; for that was the only wish left me still to be
fulfilled by time, all the other rewards for thy nurture have I long
enjoyed. Now I, once so admired among Achaean women, shall be left
behind like a bondwoman in my empty halls, pining away, ill-fated one,
for love of thee, thee on whose account I had aforetime so much
splendour and renown, my only son for whom I loosed my virgin zone
first and last. For to me beyond others the goddess Eileithyia grudged
abundant offspring. Alas for my folly! Not once, not even in nay dreams
did I forebode this, that the flight of Phrixus would bring me woe.”

Thus with moaning she wept, and her handmaidens, standing by, lamented;
but Jason spake gently to her with comforting words:

“Do not, I pray thee, mother, store up bitter sorrows overmuch, for
thou wilt not redeem me from evil by tears, but wilt still add grief to
grief. For unseen are the woes that the gods mete out to mortals; be
strong to endure thy share of them though with grief in thy heart; take
courage from the promises of Athena, and from the answers of the gods
(for very favourable oracles has Phoebus given), and then from the help
of the chieftains. But do thou remain here, quiet among thy handmaids,
and be not a bird of ill omen to the ship; and thither my clansmen and
thralls will follow me.”

He spake, and started forth to leave the house. And as Apollo goes
forth from some fragrant shrine to divine Delos or Claros or Pytho or
to broad Lyeia near the stream of Xanthus, in such beauty moved Jason
through the throng of people; and a cry arose as they shouted together.
And there met him aged Iphias, priestess of Artemis guardian of the
city, and kissed his right hand, but she had not strength to say a
word, for all her eagerness, as the crowd rushed on, but she was left
there by the wayside, as the old are left by the young, and he passed
on and was gone afar.

Now when he had left the well-built streets of the city, he came to the
beach of Pagasae, where his comrades greeted him as they stayed
together near the ship Argo. And he stood at the entering in, and they
were gathered to meet him. And they perceived Aeastus and Argus coming
from the city, and they marvelled when they saw them hasting with all
speed, despite the will of Pelias. The one, Argus, son of Arestor, had
cast round his shoulders the hide of a bull reaching to his feet, with
the black hair upon it, the other, a fair mantle of double fold, which
his sister Pelopeia had given him. Still Jason forebore from asking
them about each point but bade all be seated for an assembly. And
there, upon the folded sails and the mast as it lay on the ground, they
all took their seats in order. And among them with goodwill spake
Aeson’s son:

“All the equipment that a ship needs for all is in due order—lies ready
for our departure. Therefore we will make no long delay in our sailing
for these things’ sake, when the breezes but blow fair. But,
friends,—for common to all is our return to Hellas hereafter, and
common to all is our path to the land of Aeetes—now therefore with
ungrudging heart choose the bravest to be our leader, who shall be
careful for everything, to take upon him our quarrels and covenants
with strangers.”

Thus he spake; and the young heroes turned their eyes towards bold
Heracles sitting in their midst, and with one shout they all enjoined
upon him to be their leader; but he, from the place where he sat,
stretched forth his right hand and said:

“Let no one offer this honour to me. For I will not consent, and I will
forbid any other to stand up. Let the hero who brought us together,
himself be the leader of the host.”

Thus he spake with high thoughts, and they assented, as Heracles bade;
and warlike Jason himself rose up, glad at heart, and thus addressed
the eager throng:

“If ye entrust your glory to my care, no longer as before let our path
be hindered. Now at last let us propitiate Phoebus with sacrifice and
straightway prepare a feast. And until my thralls come, the overseers
of my steading, whose care it is to choose out oxen from the herd and
drive them hither, we will drag down the ship to the sea, and do ye
place all the tackling within, and draw lots for the benches for
rowing. Meantime let us build upon the beach an altar to Apollo
Embasius[5] who by an oracle promised to point out and show me the
paths of the sea, if by sacrifice to him I should begin my venture for
King Pelias.”

He spake, and was the first to turn to the work, and they stood up in
obedience to him; and they heaped their garments, one upon the other,
on a smooth stone, which the sea did not strike with its waves, but the
stormy surge had cleansed it long before. First of all, by the command
of Argus, they strongly girded the ship with a rope well twisted
within,[6] stretching it tight on each side, in order that the planks
might be well compacted by the bolts and might withstand the opposing
force of the surge. And they quickly dug a trench as wide as the space
the ship covered, and at the prow as far into the sea as it would run
when drawn down by their hands. And they ever dug deeper in front of
the stem, and in the furrow laid polished rollers; and inclined the
ship down upon the first rollers, that so she might glide and be borne
on by them. And above, on both sides, reversing the oars, they fastened
them round the thole-pins, so as to project a cubit’s space. And the
heroes themselves stood on both sides at the oars in a row, and pushed
forward with chest and hand at once. And then Tiphys leapt on board to
urge the youths to push at the right moment; and calling on them he
shouted loudly; and they at once, leaning with all their strength, with
one push started the ship from her place, and strained with their feet,
forcing her onward; and Pelian Argo followed swiftly; and they on each
side shouted as they rushed on. And then the rollers groaned under the
sturdy keel as they were chafed, and round them rose up a dark smoke
owing to the weight, and she glided into the sea; but the heroes stood
there and kept dragging her back as she sped onward. And round the
thole-pins they fitted the oars, and in the ship they placed the mast
and the well-made sails and the stores.

Now when they had carefully paid heed to everything, first they
distributed the benches by lot, two men occupying one seat; but the
middle bench they chose for Heracles and Ancaeus apart from the other
heroes, Ancaeus who dwelt in Tegea. For them alone they left the middle
bench just as it was and not by lot; and with one consent they
entrusted Tiphys with guarding the helm of the well-stemmed ship.

Next, piling up shingle near the sea, they raised there an altar on the
shore to Apollo, under the name of Actius[7] and Embasius, and quickly
spread above it logs of dried olive-wood. Meantime the herdsmen of
Aeson’s son had driven before them from the herd two steers. These the
younger comrades dragged near the altars, and the others brought
lustral water and barley meal, and Jason prayed, calling on Apollo the
god of his fathers:

“Hear, O King, that dwellest in Pagasae and the city Aesonis, the city
called by my father’s name, thou who didst promise me, when I sought
thy oracle at Pytho, to show the fulfilment and goal of my journey, for
thou thyself hast been the cause of my venture; now do thou thyself
guide the ship with my comrades safe and sound, thither and back again
to Hellas. Then in thy honour hereafter we will lay again on thy altar
the bright offerings of bulls—all of us who return; and other gifts in
countless numbers I will bring to Pytho and Ortygia. And now, come,
Far-darter, accept this sacrifice at our hands, which first of all we
have offered thee for this ship on our embarcation; and grant, O King,
that with a prosperous wind I may loose the hawsers, relying on thy
counsel, and may the breeze blow softly with which we shall sail over
the sea in fair weather.”

He spake, and with his prayer cast the barley meal. And they two girded
themselves to slay the steers, proud Ancaeus and Heracles. The latter
with his club smote one steer mid-head on the brow, and falling in a
heap on the spot, it sank to the ground; and Ancaeus struck the broad
neck of the other with his axe of bronze, and shore through the mighty
sinews; and it fell prone on both its horns. Their comrades quickly
severed the victims’ throats, and flayed the hides: they sundered the
joints and carved the flesh, then cut out the sacred thigh bones, and
covering them all together closely with fat burnt them upon cloven
wood. And Aeson’s son poured out pure libations, and Idmon rejoiced
beholding the flame as it gleamed on every side from the sacrifice, and
the smoke of it mounting up with good omen in dark spiral columns; and
quickly he spake outright the will of Leto’s son:

“For you it is the will of heaven and destiny that ye shall return here
with the fleece; but meanwhile both going and returning, countless
trials await you. But it is my lot, by the hateful decree of a god, to
die somewhere afar off on the mainland of Asia. Thus, though I learnt
my fate from evil omens even before now, I have left my fatherland to
embark on the ship, that so after my embarking fair fame may be left me
in my house.”

Thus he spake; and the youths hearing the divine utterance rejoiced at
their return, but grief seized them for the fate of Idmon. Now at the
hour when the sun passes his noon-tide halt and the ploughlands are
just being shadowed by the rocks, as the sun slopes towards the evening
dusk, at that hour all the heroes spread leaves thickly upon the sand
and lay down in rows in front of the hoary surf-line; and near them
were spread vast stores of viands and sweet wine, which the cupbearers
had drawn off in pitchers; afterwards they told tales one to another in
turn, such as youths often tell when at the feast and the bowl they
take delightful pastime, and insatiable insolence is far away. But here
the son of Aeson, all helpless, was brooding over each event in his
mind, like one oppressed with thought. And Idas noted him and assailed
him with loud voice:

“Son of Aeson, what is this plan thou art turning over in mind. Speak
out thy thought in the midst. Does fear come on and master thee, fear,
that confounds cowards? Be witness now my impetuous spear, wherewith in
wars I win renown beyond all others (nor does Zeus aid me so much as my
own spear), that no woe will be fatal, no venture will be unachieved,
while Idas follows, even though a god should oppose thee. Such a
helpmeet am I that thou bringest from Arene.”

He spake, and holding a brimming goblet in both hands drank off the
unmixed sweet wine; and his lips and dark cheeks were drenched with it;
and all the heroes clamoured together and Idmon spoke out openly:

“Vain wretch, thou art devising destruction for thyself before the
time. Does the pure wine cause thy bold heart to swell in thy breast to
thy ruin, and has it set thee on to dishonour the gods? Other words of
comfort there are with which a man might encourage his comrade; but
thou hast spoken with utter recklessness. Such taunts, the tale goes,
did the sons of Aloeus once blurt out against the blessed gods, and
thou dost no wise equal them in valour; nevertheless they were both
slain by the swift arrows of Leto’s son, mighty though they were.”

Thus he spake, and Aphareian Iclas laughed out, loud and long, and
eyeing him askance replied with biting words:

“Come now, tell me this by thy prophetic art, whether for me too the
gods will bring to pass such doom as thy father promised for the sons
of Aloeus. And bethink thee how thou wilt escape from my hands alive,
if thou art caught making a prophecy vain as the idle wind.”

Thus in wrath Idas reviled him, and the strife would have gone further
had not their comrades and Aeson’s son himself with indignant cry
restrained the contending chiefs; and Orpheus lifted his lyre in his
left hand and made essay to sing.

He sang how the earth, the heaven and the sea, once mingled together in
one form, after deadly strife were separated each from other; and how
the stars and the moon and the paths of the sun ever keep their fixed
place in the sky; and how the mountains rose, and how the resounding
rivers with their nymphs came into being and all creeping things. And
he sang how first of all Ophion and Eurynome, daughter of Ocean, held
the sway of snowy Olympus, and how through strength of arm one yielded
his prerogative to Cronos and the other to Rhea, and how they fell into
the waves of Ocean; but the other two meanwhile ruled over the blessed
Titan-gods, while Zeus, still a child and with the thoughts of a child,
dwelt in the Dictaean cave; and the earthborn Cyclopes had not yet
armed him with the bolt, with thunder and lightning; for these things
give renown to Zeus.

He ended, and stayed his lyre and divine voice. But though he had
ceased they still bent forward with eagerness all hushed to quiet, with
ears intent on the enchanting strain; such a charm of song had he left
behind in their hearts. Not long after they mixed libations in honour
of Zeus, with pious rites as is customary, and poured them upon the
burning tongues, and bethought them of sleep in the darkness.

Now when gleaming dawn with bright eyes beheld the lofty peaks of
Pelion, and the calm headlands were being drenched as the sea was
ruffled by the winds, then Tiphys awoke from sleep; and at once he
roused his comrades to go on board and make ready the oars. And a
strange cry did the harbour of Pagasae utter, yea and Pelian Argo
herself, urging them to set forth. For in her a beam divine had been
laid which Athena had brought from an oak of Dodona and fitted in the
middle of the stem. And the heroes went to the benches one after the
other, as they had previously assigned for each to row in his place,
and took their seats in due order near their fighting gear. In the
middle sat Antaeus and mighty Heracles, and near him he laid his club,
and beneath his tread the ship’s keel sank deep. And now the hawsers
were being slipped and they poured wine on the sea. But Jason with
tears held his eyes away from his fatherland. And just as youths set up
a dance in honour of Phoebus either in Pytho or haply in Ortygia, or by
the waters of Ismenus, and to the sound of the lyre round his altar all
together in time beat the earth with swiftly-moving feet; so they to
the sound of Orpheus’ lyre smote with their oars the rushing sea-water,
and the surge broke over the blades; and on this side and on that the
dark brine seethed with foam, boiling terribly through the might of the
sturdy heroes. And their arms shone in the sun like flame as the ship
sped on; and ever their wake gleamed white far behind, like a path seen
over a green plain. On that day all the gods looked down from heaven
upon the ship and the might of the heroes, half-divine, the bravest of
men then sailing the sea; and on the topmost heights the nymphs of
Pelion wondered as they beheld the work of Itonian Athena, and the
heroes themselves wielding the oars. And there came down from the
mountain-top to the sea Chiron, son of Philyra, and where the white
surf broke he dipped his feet, and, often waving with his broad hand,
cried out to them at their departure, “Good speed and a sorrowless
home-return!” And with him his wife, bearing Peleus’ son Achilles on
her arm, showed the child to his dear father.

Now when they had left the curving shore of the harbour through the
cunning and counsel of prudent Tiphys son of Hagnias, who skilfully
handled the well-polished helm that he might guide them steadfastly,
then at length they set up the tall mast in the mastbox, and secured it
with forestays, drawing them taut on each side, and from it they let
down the sail when they had hauled it to the top-mast. And a breeze
came down piping shrilly; and upon the deck they fastened the ropes
separately round the well-polished pins, and ran quietly past the long
Tisaean headland. And for them the son of Oeagrus touched his lyre and
sang in rhythmical song of Artemis, saviour of ships, child of a
glorious sire, who hath in her keeping those peaks by the sea, and the
land of Iolcos; and the fishes came darting through the deep sea, great
mixed with small, and followed gambolling along the watery paths. And
as when in the track of the shepherd, their master, countless sheep
follow to the fold that have fed to the full of grass, and he goes
before gaily piping a shepherd’s strain on Iris shrill reed; so these
fishes followed; and a chasing breeze ever bore the ship onward.

And straightway the misty land of the Pelasgians, rich in cornfields,
sank out of sight, and ever speeding onward they passed the rugged
sides of Pelion; and the Sepian headland sank away, and Sciathus
appeared in the sea, and far off appeared Piresiae and the calm shore
of Magnesia on the mainland and the tomb of Dolops; here then in the
evening, as the wind blew against them, they put to land, and paying
honour to him at nightfall burnt sheep as victims, while the sea was
tossed by the swell: and for two days they lingered on the shore, but
on the third day they put forth the ship, spreading on high the broad
sail. And even now men call that beach Aphetae[8] of Argo.

Thence going forward they ran past Meliboea, escaping a stormy beach
and surf-line. And in the morning they saw Homole close at hand leaning
on the sea, and skirted it, and not long after they were about to pass
by the outfall of the river Amyrus. From there they beheld Eurymenae
and the seawashed ravines of Ossa and Olympus; next they reached the
slopes of Pallene, beyond the headland of Canastra, running all night
with the wind. And at dawn before them as they journeyed rose Athos,
the Thracian mountain, which with its topmost peak overshadows Lemnos,
even as far as Myrine, though it lies as far off as the space that a
well-trimmed merchantship would traverse up to mid-day. For them on
that day, till darkness fell, the breeze blew exceedingly fresh, and
the sails of the ship strained to it. But with the setting of the sun
the wind left them, and it was by the oars that they reached Lemnos,
the Sintian isle.

Here the whole of the men of the people together had been ruthlessly
slain through the transgressions of the women in the year gone by. For
the men had rejected their lawful wives, loathing them, and had
conceived a fierce passion for captive maids whom they themselves
brought across the sea from their forays in Thrace; for the terrible
wrath of Cypris came upon them, because for a long time they had
grudged her the honours due. O hapless women, and insatiate in jealousy
to their own ruin! Not their husbands alone with the captives did they
slay on account of the marriage-bed, but all the males at the same
time, that they might thereafter pay no retribution for the grim
murder. And of all the women, Hypsipyle alone spared her aged father
Thoas, who was king over the people; and she sent him in a hollow
chest, to drift over the sea, if haply he should escape. And fishermen
dragged him to shore at the island of Oenoe, formerly Oenoe, but
afterwards called Sicinus from Sicinus, whom the water-nymph Oenoe bore
to Thoas. Now for all the women to tend kine, to don armour of bronze,
and to cleave with the plough-share the wheat-bearing fields, was
easier than the works of Athena, with which they were busied aforetime.
Yet for all that did they often gaze over the broad sea, in grievous
fear against the Thracians’ coming. So when they saw Argo being rowed
near the island, straightway crowding in multitude from the gates of
Myrine and clad in their harness of war, they poured forth to the beach
like ravening Thyiades: for they deemed that the Thracians were come;
and with them Hypsipyle, daughter of Thoas, donned her father’s
harness. And they streamed down speechless with dismay; such fear was
wafted about them.

Meantime from the ship the chiefs had sent Aethalides the swift herald,
to whose care they entrusted their messages and the wand of Hermes, his
sire, who had granted him a memory of all things, that never grew dim;
and not even now, though he has entered the unspeakable whirlpools of
Acheron, has forgetfulness swept over his soul, but its fixed doom is
to be ever changing its abode; at one time to be numbered among the
dwellers beneath the earth, at another to be in the light of the sun
among living men. But why need I tell at length tales of Aethalides? He
at that time persuaded Hypsipyle to receive the new-comers as the day
was waning into darkness; nor yet at dawn did they loose the ship’s
hawsers to the breath of the north wind.

Now the Lemnian women fared through the city and sat down to the
assembly, for Hypsipyle herself had so bidden. And when they were all
gathered together in one great throng straightway she spake among them
with stirring words:

“O friends, come let us grant these men gifts to their hearts’ desire,
such as it is fitting that they should take on ship-board, food and
sweet wine, in order that they may steadfastly remain outside our
towers, and may not, passing among us for need’s sake, get to know us
all too well, and so an evil report be widely spread; for we have
wrought a terrible deed and in nowise will it be to their liking,
should they learn it. Such is our counsel now, but if any of you can
devise a better plan let her rise, for it was on this account that I
summoned you hither.”

Thus she spake and sat upon her father’s seat of stone, and then rose
up her dear nurse Polyxo, for very age halting upon her withered feet,
bowed over a staff, and she was eager to address them. Near her were
seated four virgins, unwedded, crowned with white hair. And she stood
in the midst of the assembly and from her bent back she feebly raised
her neck and spake thus:

“Gifts, as Hypsipyle herself wishes, let us send to the strangers, for
it is better to give them. But for you what device have ye to get
profit of your life if the Thracian host fall upon us, or some other
foe, as often happens among men, even as now this company is come
unforeseen? But if one of the blessed gods should turn this aside yet
countless other woes, worse than battle, remain behind, when the aged
women die off and ye younger ones, without children, reach hateful old
age. How then will ye live, hapless ones? Will your oxen of their own
accord yoke themselves for the deep plough-lands and draw the
earth-cleaving share through the fallow, and forthwith, as the year
comes round, reap the harvest? Assuredly, though the fates till now
have shunned me in horror, I deem that in the coming year I shall put
on the garment of earth, when I have received my meed of burial even so
as is right, before the evil days draw near. But I bid you who are
younger give good heed to this. For now at your feet a way of escape
lies open, if ye trust to the strangers the care of your homes and all
your stock and your glorious city.”

Thus she spake, and the assembly was filled with clamour. For the word
pleased them. And after her straightway Hypsipyle rose up again, and
thus spake in reply.

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

She spake and addressed Iphinoe close at hand: “Go, Iphinoe, and beg
yonder man, whoever it is that leads this array, to come to our land
that I may tell him a word that pleases the heart of my people, and bid
the men themselves, if they wish, boldly enter the land and the city
with friendly intent.”

She spake, and dismissed the assembly, and thereafter started to return
home. And so Iphinoe came to the Minyae; and they asked with what
intent she had come among them. And quickly she addressed her
questioners with all speed in these words:

“The maiden Hypsipyle daughter of Thoas, sent me on my way here to you,
to summon the captain of your ship, whoever he be, that she may tell
him a word that pleases the heart of the people, and she bids
yourselves, if ye wish it, straightway enter the land and the city with
friendly intent.”

Thus she spake and the speech of good omen pleased all. And they deemed
that Thoas was dead and that his beloved daughter Hypsipyle was queen,
and quickly they sent Jason on his way and themselves made ready to go.

Now he had buckled round his shoulders a purple mantle of double fold,
the work of the Tritonian goddess, which Pallas had given him when she
first laid the keel-props of the ship Argo and taught him how to
measure timbers with the rule. More easily wouldst thou cast thy eyes
upon the sun at its rising than behold that blazing splendour. For
indeed in the middle the fashion thereof was red, but at the ends it
was all purple, and on each margin many separate devices had been
skilfully inwoven.

In it were the Cyclops seated at their imperishable work, forging a
thunderbolt for King Zeus; by now it was almost finished in its
brightness and still it wanted but one ray, which they were beating out
with their iron hammers as it spurted forth a breath of raging flame.

In it too were the twin sons of Antiope, daughter of Asopus, Amphion
and Zethus, and Thebe still ungirt with towers was lying near, whose
foundations they were just then laying in eager haste. Zethus on his
shoulders was lifting the peak of a steep mountain, like a man toiling
hard, and Amphion after him, singing loud and clear on his golden lyre,
moved on, and a rock twice as large followed his footsteps.

Next in order had been wrought Cytherea with drooping tresses, wielding
the swift shield of Ares; and from her shoulder to her left arm the
fastening of her tunic was loosed beneath her breast; and opposite in
the shield of bronze her image appeared clear to view as she stood.

And in it there was a well-wooded pasturage of oxen; and about the oxen
the Teleboae and the sons of Eleetryon were fighting; the one party
defending themselves, the others, the Taphian raiders, longing to rob
them; and the dewy meadow was drenched with their blood, and the many
were overmastering the few herdsmen.

And therein were fashioned two chariots, racing, and the one in front
Pelops was guiding, as he shook the reins, and with him was Hippodameia
at his side, and in pursuit Myrtilus urged his steeds, and with him
Oenomaus had grasped his couched spear, but fell as the axle swerved
and broke in the nave, while he was eager to pierce the back of Pelops.

And in it was wrought Phoebus Apollo, a stripling not yet grown up, in
the act of shooting at mighty Tityos who was boldly dragging his mother
by her veil, Tityos whom glorious Elate bare, but Earth nursed him and
gave him second birth.

And in it was Phrixus the Minyan as though he were in very deed
listening to the ram, while it was like one speaking. Beholding them
thou wouldst be silent and wouldst cheat thy soul with the hope of
hearing some wise speech from them, and long wouldst thou gaze with
that hope.

Such then were the gifts of the Tritonian goddess Athena. And in his
right hand Jason held a fardarting spear, which Atalanta gave him once
as a gift of hospitality in Maenalus as she met him gladly; for she
eagerly desired to follow on that quest; but he himself of his own
accord prevented the maid, for he feared bitter strife on account of
her love.

And he went on his way to the city like to a bright star, which
maidens, pent up in new-built chambers, behold as it rises above their
homes, and through the dark air it charms their eyes with its fair red
gleam and the maid rejoices, love-sick for the youth who is far away
amid strangers, for whom her parents are keeping her to be his bride;
like to that star the hero trod the way to the city. And when they had
passed within the gates and the city, the women of the people surged
behind them, delighting in the stranger, but he with his eyes fixed on
the ground fared straight on, till he reached the glorious palace of
Hypsipyle; and when he appeared the maids opened the folding doors,
fitted with well-fashioned panels. Here Iphinoe leading him quickly
through a fair porch set him upon a shining seat opposite her mistress,
but Hypsipyle turned her eyes aside and a blush covered her maiden
cheeks, yet for all her modesty she addressed him with crafty words:

“Stranger, why stay ye so long outside our towers? for the city is not
inhabited by the men, but they, as sojourners, plough the wheat-bearing
fields of the Thracian mainland. And I will tell out truly all our evil
plight, that ye yourselves too may know it well. When my father Thoas
reigned over the citizens, then our folk starting from their homes used
to plunder from their ships the dwellings of the Thracians who live
opposite, and they brought back hither measureless booty and maidens
too. But the counsel of the baneful goddess Cypris was working out its
accomplishment, who brought upon them soul destroying infatuation. For
they hated their lawful wives, and, yielding to their own mad folly,
drove them from their homes; and they took to their beds the captives
of their spear, cruel ones. Long in truth we endured it, if haply
again, though late, they might change their purpose, but ever the
bitter woe grew, twofold. And the lawful children were being
dishonoured in their halls, and a bastard race was rising. And thus
unmarried maidens and widowed mothers too wandered uncared for through
the city; no father heeded his daughter ever so little even though he
should see her done to death before his eyes at the hands of an
insolent step-dame, nor did sons, as before, defend their mother
against unseemly outrage; nor did brothers care at heart for their
sister. But in their homes, in the dance, in the assembly and the
banquet all their thought was only for their captive maidens; until
some god put desperate courage in our hearts no more to receive our
lords on their return from Thrace within our towers so that they might
either heed the right or might depart and begone elsewhither, they and
their captives. So they begged of us all the male children that were
left in the city and went back to where even now they dwell on the
snowy tilths of Thrace. Do ye therefore stay and settle with us; and
shouldst thou desire to dwell here, and this finds favour with thee,
assuredly thou shalt have the prerogative of my father Thoas; and I
deem that thou wilt not scorn our land at all; for it is deepsoiled
beyond all other islands that lie in the Aegaean sea. But come now,
return to the ship and relate my words to thy comrades, and stay not
outside our city.”

She spoke, glozing over the murder that had been wrought upon the men;
and Jason addressed her in answer:

“Hypsipyle, very dear to our hearts is the help we shall meet with,
which thou grantest to us who need thee. And I will return again to the
city when I have told everything in order due. But let the sovereignty
of the island be thine; it is not in scorn I yield it up, but grievous
trials urge me on.”

He spake, and touched her right hand; and quickly he turned to go back:
and round him the young maids on every side danced in countless numbers
in their joy till he passed through the gates. And then they came to
the shore in smooth-running wains, bearing with them many gifts, when
now he had related from beginning to end the speech which Hypsipyle had
spoken when she summoned them; and the maids readily led the men back
to their homes for entertainment. For Cypris stirred in them a sweet
desire, for the sake of Hephaestus of many counsels, in order that
Lemnos might be again inhabited by men and not be ruined.

Thereupon Aeson’s son started to go to the royal home of Hypsipyle; and
the rest went each his way as chance took them, all but Heracles; for
he of his own will was left behind by the ship and a few chosen
comrades with him. And straightway the city rejoiced with dances and
banquets, being filled with the steam of sacrifice; and above all the
immortals they propitiated with songs and sacrifices the illustrious
son of Hera and Cypris herself. And the sailing was ever delayed from
one day to another; and long would they have lingered there, had not
Heracles, gathering together his comrades apart from the women, thus
addressed them with reproachful words:

“Wretched men, does the murder of kindred keep us from our native land?
Or is it in want of marriage that we have come hither from thence, in
scorn of our countrywomen? Does it please us to dwell here and plough
the rich soil of Lemnos? No fair renown shall we win by thus tarrying
so long with stranger women; nor will some god seize and give us at our
prayer a fleece that moves of itself. Let us then return each to his
own; but him leave ye to rest all day long in the embrace of Hypsipyle
until he has peopled Lemnos with men-children, and so there come to him
great glory.”

Thus did he chide the band; but no one dared to meet his eye or to
utter a word in answer. But just as they were in the assembly they made
ready their departure in all haste, and the women came running towards
them, when they knew their intent. And as when bees hum round fair
lilies pouring forth from their hive in the rock, and all around the
dewy meadow rejoices, and they gather the sweet fruit, flitting from
one to another; even so the women eagerly poured forth clustering round
the men with loud lament, and greeted each one with hands and voice,
praying the blessed gods to grant him a safe return. And so Hypsipyle
too prayed, seizing the hands of Aeson’s son, and her tears flowed for
the loss of her lover:

“Go, and may heaven bring thee back again with thy comrades unharmed,
bearing to the king the golden fleece, even as thou wilt and thy heart
desireth; and this island and my father’s sceptre will be awaiting
thee, if on thy return hereafter thou shouldst choose to come hither
again; and easily couldst thou gather a countless host of men from
other cities. But thou wilt not have this desire, nor do I myself
forbode that so it will be. Still remember Hypsipyle when thou art far
away and when thou hast returned; and leave me some word of bidding,
which I will gladly accomplish, if haply heaven shall grant me to be a
mother.”

And Aeson’s son in admiration thus replied: “Hypsipyle, so may all
these things prove propitious by the favour of the blessed gods. But do
thou hold a nobler thought of me, since by the grace of Pelias it is
enough for me to dwell in my native land; may the gods only release me
from my toils. But if it is not my destiny to sail afar and return to
the land of Hellas, and if thou shouldst bear a male child, send him
when grown up to Pelasgian Iolcus, to heal the grief of my father and
mother if so be that he find them still living, in order that, far away
from the king, they may be cared for by their own hearth in their
home.”

He spake, and mounted the ship first of all; and so the rest of the
chiefs followed, and, sitting in order, seized the oars; and Argus
loosed for them the hawsers from under the sea-beaten rock. Whereupon
they mightily smote the water with their long oars, and in the evening
by the injunctions of Orpheus they touched at the island of Electra,[9]
daughter of Atlas, in order that by gentle initiation they might learn
the rites that may not be uttered, and so with greater safety sail over
the chilling sea. Of these I will make no further mention; but I bid
farewell to the island itself and the indwelling deities, to whom
belong those mysteries, which it is not lawful for me to sing.

Thence did they row with eagerness over the depths of the black Sea,
having on the one side the land of the Thracians, on the other Imbros
on the south; and as the sun was just setting they reached the foreland
of the Chersonesus. There a strong south wind blew for them; and
raising the sails to the breeze they entered the swift stream of the
maiden daughter of Athamas; and at dawn the sea to the north was left
behind and at night they were coasting inside the Rhoeteian shore, with
the land of Ida on their right. And leaving Dardania they directed
their course to Abydus, and after it they sailed past Percote and the
sandy beach of Abarnis and divine Pityeia. And in that night, as the
ship sped on by sail and oar, they passed right through the Hellespont
dark-gleaming with eddies.

There is a lofty island inside the Propontis, a short distance from the
Phrygian mainland with its rich cornfields, sloping to the sea, where
an isthmus in front of the mainland is flooded by the waves, so low
does it lie. And the isthmus has double shores, and they lie beyond the
river Aesepus, and the inhabitants round about call the island the
Mount of Bears. And insolent and fierce men dwell there, Earthborn, a
great marvel to the neighbours to behold; for each one has six mighty
hands to lift up, two from his sturdy shoulders, and four below,
fitting close to his terrible sides. And about the isthmus and the
plain the Doliones had their dwelling, and over them Cyzicus son of
Aeneus was king, whom Aenete the daughter of goodly Eusorus bare. But
these men the Earthborn monsters, fearful though they were, in nowise
harried, owing to the protection of Poseidon; for from him had the
Doliones first sprung. Thither Argo pressed on, driven by the winds of
Thrace, and the Fair haven received her as she sped. There they cast
away their small anchorstone by the advice of Tiphys and left it
beneath a fountain, the fountain of Artaeie; and they took another meet
for their purpose, a heavy one; but the first, according to the oracle
of the Far-Darter, the Ionians, sons of Neleus, in after days laid to
be a sacred stone, as was right, in the temple of Jasonian Athena.

Now the Doliones and Cyzicus himself all came together to meet them
with friendliness, and when they knew of the quest and their lineage
welcomed them with hospitality, and persuaded them to row further and
to fasten their ship’s hawsers at the city harbour. Here they built an
altar to Ecbasian Apollo[10] and set it up on the beach, and gave heed
to sacrifices. And the king of his own bounty gave them sweet wine and
sheep in their need; for he had heard a report that whenever a godlike
band of heroes should come, straightway he should meet it with gentle
words and should have no thought of war. As with Jason, the soft down
was just blooming on his chin, nor yet had it been his lot to rejoice
in children, but still in his palace his wife was untouched by the
pangs of child-birth, the daughter of Percosian Merops, fair-haired
Cleite, whom lately by priceless gifts he had brought from her father’s
home from the mainland opposite. But even so he left his chamber and
bridal bed and prepared a banquet among the strangers, casting all
fears from his heart. And they questioned one another in turn. Of them
would he learn the end of their voyage and the injunctions of Pelias;
while they enquired about the cities of the people round and all the
gulf of the wide Propontis; but further he could not tell them for all
their desire to learn. In the morning they climbed mighty Dindymum that
they might themselves behold the various paths of that sea; and they
brought their ship from its former anchorage to the harbour, Chytus;
and the path they trod is named the path of Jason.

But the Earthborn men on the other side rushed down from the mountain
and with crags below blocked up the mouth of vast Chytus towards the
sea, like men lying in wait for a wild beast within. But there Heracles
had been left behind with the younger heroes and he quickly bent his
back-springing bow against the monsters and brought them to earth one
after another; and they in their turn raised huge ragged rocks and
hurled them. For these dread monsters too, I ween, the goddess Hera,
bride of Zeus, had nurtured to be a trial for Heracles. And therewithal
came the rest of the martial heroes returning to meet the foe before
they reached the height of outlook, and they fell to the slaughter of
the Earthborn, receiving them with arrows and spears until they slew
them all as they rushed fiercely to battle. And as when woodcutters
cast in rows upon the beach long trees just hewn down by their axes, in
order that, once sodden with brine, they may receive the strong bolts;
so these monsters at the entrance of the foam-fringed harbour lay
stretched one after another, some in heaps bending their heads and
breasts into the salt waves with their limbs spread out above on the
land; others again were resting their heads on the sand of the shore
and their feet in the deep water, both alike a prey to birds and fishes
at once.

But the heroes, when the contest was ended without fear, loosed the
ship’s hawsers to the breath of the wind and pressed on through the
sea-swell. And the ship sped on under sail all day; but when night came
the rushing wind did not hold steadfast, but contrary blasts caught
them and held them back till they again approached the hospitable
Doliones. And they stepped ashore that same night; and the rock is
still called the Sacred Rock round which they threw the ship’s hawsers
in their haste. Nor did anyone note with care that it was the same
island; nor in the night did the Doliones clearly perceive that the
heroes were returning; but they deemed that Pelasgian war-men of the
Macrians had landed. Therefore they donned their armour and raised
their hands against them. And with clashing of ashen spears and shields
they fell on each other, like the swift rush of fire which falls on dry
brushwood and rears its crest; and the din of battle, terrible and
furious, fell upon the people of the Doliones. Nor was the king to
escape his fate and return home from battle to his bridal chamber and
bed. But Aeson’s son leapt upon him as he turned to face him, and smote
him in the middle of the breast, and the bone was shattered round the
spear; he rolled forward in the sand and filled up the measure of his
fate. For that no mortal may escape; but on every side a wide snare
encompasses us. And so, when he thought that he had escaped bitter
death from the chiefs, fate entangled him that very night in her toils
while battling with them; and many champions withal were slain;
Heracles killed Telecles and Megabrontes, and Acastus slew Sphodris;
and Peleus slew Zelus and Gephyrus swift in war. Telamon of the strong
spear slew Basileus. And Idas slew Promeus, and Clytius Hyacinthus, and
the two sons of Tyndareus slew Megalossaces and Phlogius. And after
them the son of Oeneus slew bold Itomeneus, and Artaceus, leader of
men; all of whom the inhabitants still honour with the worship due to
heroes. And the rest gave way and fled in terror just as doves fly in
terror before swift-winged hawks. And with a din they rustled in a body
to the gates; and quickly the city was filled with loud cries at the
turning of the dolorous fight. But at dawn both sides perceived the
fatal and cureless error; and bitter grief seized the Minyan heroes
when they saw before them Cyzicus son of Aeneus fallen in the midst of
dust and blood. And for three whole days they lamented and rent their
hair, they and the Dollones. Then three times round his tomb they paced
in armour of bronze and performed funeral rites and celebrated games,
as was meet, upon the meadow-plain, where even now rises the mound of
his grave to be seen by men of a later day. No, nor was his bride
Cleite left behind her dead husband, but to crown the ill she wrought
an ill yet more awful, when she clasped a noose round her neck. Her
death even the nymphs of the grove bewailed; and of all the tears for
her that they shed to earth from their eyes the goddesses made a
fountain, which they call Cleite,[11] the illustrious name of the
hapless maid. Most terrible came that day from Zeus upon the Doliones,
women and men; for no one of them dared even to taste food, nor for a
long time by reason of grief did they take thought for the toil of the
cornmill, but they dragged on their lives eating their food as it was,
untouched by fire. Here even now, when the Ionians that dwell in
Cyzicus pour their yearly libations for the dead, they ever grind the
meal for the sacrificial cakes at the common mill.[12]

After this, fierce tempests arose for twelve days and nights together
and kept them there from sailing. But in the next night the rest of the
chieftains, overcome by sleep, were resting during the latest period of
the night, while Acastus and Mopsus the son of Ampyeus kept guard over
their deep slumbers. And above the golden head of Aeson’s son there
hovered a halcyon prophesying with shrill voice the ceasing of the
stormy winds; and Mopsus heard and understood the cry of the bird of
the shore, fraught with good omen. And some god made it turn aside, and
flying aloft it settled upon the stern-ornament of the ship. And the
seer touched Jason as he lay wrapped in soft sheepskins and woke him at
once, and thus spake:

“Son of Aeson, thou must climb to this temple on rugged Dindymum and
propitiate the mother[13] of all the blessed gods on her fair throne,
and the stormy blasts shall cease. For such was the voice I heard but
now from the halcyon, bird of the sea, which, as it flew above thee in
thy slumber, told me all. For by her power the winds and the sea and
all the earth below and the snowy seat of Olympus are complete; and to
her, when from the mountains she ascends the mighty heaven, Zeus
himself, the son of Cronos, gives place. In like manner the rest of the
immortal blessed ones reverence the dread goddess.”

Thus he spake, and his words were welcome to Jason’s ear. And he arose
from his bed with joy and woke all his comrades hurriedly and told them
the prophecy of Mopsus the son of Ampycus. And quickly the younger men
drove oxen from their stalls and began to lead them to the mountain’s
lofty summit. And they loosed the hawsers from the sacred rock and
rowed to the Thracian harbour; and the heroes climbed the mountain,
leaving a few of their comrades in the ship. And to them the Macrian
heights and all the coast of Thrace opposite appeared to view close at
hand. And there appeared the misty mouth of Bosporus and the Mysian
hills; and on the other side the stream of the river Aesepus and the
city and Nepeian plain of Adrasteia. Now there was a sturdy stump of
vine that grew in the forest, a tree exceeding old; this they cut down,
to be the sacred image of the mountain goddess; and Argus smoothed it
skilfully, and they set it upon that rugged hill beneath a canopy of
lofty oaks, which of all trees have their roots deepest. And near it
they heaped an altar of small stones, and wreathed their brows with oak
leaves and paid heed to sacrifice, invoking the mother of Dindymum,
most venerable, dweller in Phrygia, and Titias and Cyllenus, who alone
of many are called dispensers of doom and assessors of the Idaean
mother,—the Idaean Dactyls of Crete, whom once the nymph Anchiale, as
she grasped with both hands the land of Oaxus, bare in the Dictaean
cave. And with many prayers did Aeson’s son beseech the goddess to turn
aside the stormy blasts as he poured libations on the blazing
sacrifice; and at the same time by command of Orpheus the youths trod a
measure dancing in full armour, and clashed with their swords on their
shields, so that the ill-omened cry might be lost in the air the wail
which the people were still sending up in grief for their king. Hence
from that time forward the Phrygians propitiate Rhea with the wheel and
the drum. And the gracious goddess, I ween, inclined her heart to pious
sacrifices; and favourable signs appeared. The trees shed abundant
fruit, and round their feet the earth of its own accord put forth
flowers from the tender grass. And the beasts of the wild wood left
their lairs and thickets and came up fawning on them with their tails.
And she caused yet another marvel; for hitherto there was no flow of
water on Dindymum, but then for them an unceasing stream gushed forth
from the thirsty peak just as it was, and the dwellers around in after
times called that stream, the spring of Jason. And then they made a
feast in honour of the goddess on the Mount of Bears, singing the
praises of Rhea most venerable; but at dawn the winds had ceased and
they rowed away from the island.

Thereupon a spirit of contention stirred each chieftain, who should be
the last to leave his oar. For all around the windless air smoothed the
swirling waves and lulled the sea to rest. And they, trusting in the
calm, mightily drove the ship forward; and as she sped through the salt
sea, not even the storm-footed steeds of Poseidon would have overtaken
her. Nevertheless when the sea was stirred by violent blasts which were
just rising from the rivers about evening, forspent with toil, they
ceased. But Heracles by the might of his arms pulled the weary rowers
along all together, and made the strong-knit timbers of the ship to
quiver. But when, eager to reach the Mysian mainland, they passed along
in sight of the mouth of Rhyndaeus and the great cairn of Aegaeon, a
little way from Phrygia, then Heracles, as he ploughed up the furrows
of the roughened surge, broke his oar in the middle. And one half he
held in both his hands as he fell sideways, the other the sea swept
away with its receding wave. And he sat up in silence glaring round;
for his hands were unaccustomed to be idle.

Now at the hour when from the field some delver or ploughman goes
gladly home to his hut, longing for his evening meal, and there on the
threshold, all squalid with dust, bows his wearied knees, and,
beholding his hands worn with toil, with many a curse reviles his
belly; at that hour the heroes reached the homes of the Cianian land
near the Arganthonian mount and the outfall of Cius. Them as they came
in friendliness, the Mysians, inhabitants of that land, hospitably
welcomed, and gave them in their need provisions and sheep and abundant
wine. Hereupon some brought dried wood, others from the meadows leaves
for beds which they gathered in abundance for strewing, whilst others
were twirling sticks to get fire; others again were mixing wine in the
bowl and making ready the feast, after sacrificing at nightfall to
Apollo Ecbasius.

But the son of Zeus having duly enjoined on his comrades to prepare the
feast took his way into a wood, that he might first fashion for himself
an oar to fit his hand. Wandering about he found a pine not burdened
with many branches, nor too full of leaves, but like to the shaft of a
tall poplar; so great was it both in length and thickness to look at.
And quickly he laid on the ground his arrow-holding quiver together
with his bow, and took off his lion’s skin. And he loosened the pine
from the ground with his bronze-tipped club and grasped the trunk with
both hands at the bottom, relying on his strength; and he pressed it
against his broad shoulder with legs wide apart; and clinging close he
raised it from the ground deep-rooted though it was, together with
clods of earth. And as when unexpectedly, just at the time of the
stormy setting of baleful Orion, a swift gust of wind strikes down from
above, and wrenches a ship’s mast from its stays, wedges and all; so
did Heracles lift the pine. And at the same time he took up his bow and
arrows, his lion skin and club, and started on his return.

Meantime Hylas with pitcher of bronze in hand had gone apart from the
throng, seeking the sacred flow of a fountain, that he might be quick
in drawing water for the evening meal and actively make all things
ready in due order against his lord’s return. For in such ways did
Heracles nurture him from his first childhood when he had carried him
off from the house of his father, goodly Theiodamas, whom the hero
pitilessly slew among the Dryopians because he withstood him about an
ox for the plough. Theiodamas was cleaving with his plough the soil of
fallow land when he was smitten with the curse; and Heracles bade him
give up the ploughing ox against his will. For he desired to find some
pretext for war against the Dryopians for their bane, since they dwelt
there reckless of right. But these tales would lead me far astray from
my song. And quickly Hylas came to the spring which the people who
dwell thereabouts call Pegae. And the dances of the nymphs were just
now being held there; for it was the care of all the nymphs that
haunted that lovely headland ever to hymn Artemis in songs by night.
All who held the mountain peaks or glens, all they were ranged far off
guarding the woods; but one, a water-nymph was just rising from the
fair-flowing spring; and the boy she perceived close at hand with the
rosy flush of his beauty and sweet grace. For the full moon beaming
from the sky smote him. And Cypris made her heart faint, and in her
confusion she could scarcely gather her spirit back to her. But as soon
as he dipped the pitcher in the stream, leaning to one side, and the
brimming water rang loud as it poured against the sounding bronze,
straightway she laid her left arm above upon his neck yearning to kiss
his tender mouth; and with her right hand she drew down his elbow, and
plunged him into the midst of the eddy.

Alone of his comrades the hero Polyphemus, son of Eilatus, as he went
forward on the path, heard the boy’s cry, for he expected the return of
mighty Heracles. And he rushed after the cry, near Pegae, like some
beast of the wild wood whom the bleating of sheep has reached from
afar, and burning with hunger he follows, but does not fall in with the
flocks; for the shepherds beforehand have penned them in the fold, but
he groans and roars vehemently until he is weary. Thus vehemently at
that time did the son of Eilatus groan and wandered shouting round the
spot; and his voice rang piteous. Then quickly drawing his great sword
he started in pursuit, in fear lest the boy should be the prey of wild
beasts, or men should have lain in ambush for him faring all alone, and
be carrying him off, an easy prey. Hereupon as he brandished his bare
sword in his hand he met Heracles himself on the path, and well he knew
him as he hastened to the ship through the darkness. And straightway he
told the wretched calamity while his heart laboured with his panting
breath.

“My poor friend, I shall be the first to bring thee tidings of bitter
woe. Hylas has gone to the well and has not returned safe, but robbers
have attacked and are carrying him off, or beasts are tearing him to
pieces; I heard his cry.”

Thus he spake; and when Heracles heard his words, sweat in abundance
poured down from his temples and the black blood boiled beneath his
heart. And in wrath he hurled the pine to the ground and hurried along
the path whither his feet bore on his impetuous soul. And as when a
bull stung by a gadfly tears along, leaving the meadows and the marsh
land, and recks not of herdsmen or herd, but presses on, now without
cheek, now standing still, and raising his broad neck he bellows
loudly, stung by the maddening fly; so he in his frenzy now would ply
his swift knees unresting, now again would cease from toil and shout
afar with loud pealing cry.

But straightway the morning star rose above the topmost peaks and the
breeze swept down; and quickly did Tiphys urge them to go aboard and
avail themselves of the wind. And they embarked eagerly forthwith; and
they drew up the ship’s anchors and hauled the ropes astern. And the
sails were bellied out by the wind, and far from the coast were they
joyfully borne past the Posideian headland. But at the hour when
gladsome dawn shines from heaven, rising from the east, and the paths
stand out clearly, and the dewy plains shine with a bright gleam, then
at length they were aware that unwittingly they had abandoned those
men. And a fierce quarrel fell upon them, and violent tumult, for that
they had sailed and left behind the bravest of their comrades. And
Aeson’s son, bewildered by their hapless plight, said never a word,
good or bad; but sat with his heavy load of grief, eating out his
heart. And wrath seized Telamon, and thus he spake:

“Sit there at thy ease, for it was fitting for thee to leave Heracles
behind; from thee the project arose, so that his glory throughout
Hellas should not overshadow thee, if so be that heaven grants us a
return home. But what pleasure is there in words? For I will go, I
only, with none of thy comrades, who have helped thee to plan this
treachery.”

He spake, and rushed upon Tiphys son of Hagnias; and his eyes sparkled
like flashes of ravening flame. And they would quickly have turned back
to the land of the Mysians, forcing their way through the deep sea and
the unceasing blasts of the wind, had not the two sons of Thracian
Boreas held back the son of Aeacus with harsh words. Hapless ones,
assuredly a bitter vengeance came upon them thereafter at the hands of
Heracles, because they stayed the search for him. For when they were
returning from the games over Pelias dead he slew them in sea-girt
Tenos and heaped the earth round them, and placed two columns above,
one of which, a great marvel for men to see, moves at the breath of the
blustering north wind. These things were thus to be accomplished in
after times. But to them appeared Glaucus from the depths of the sea,
the wise interpreter of divine Nereus, and raising aloft his shaggy
head and chest from his waist below, with sturdy hand he seized the
ship’s keel, and then cried to the eager crew:

“Why against the counsel of mighty Zeus do ye purpose to lead bold
Heracles to the city of Aeetes? At Argos it is his fate to labour for
insolent Eurystheus and to accomplish full twelve toils and dwell with
the immortals, if so be that he bring to fulfilment a few more yet;
wherefore let there be no vain regret for him. Likewise it is destined
for Polyphemus to found a glorious city at the mouth of Cius among the
Mysians and to fill up the measure of his fate in the vast land of the
Chalybes. But a goddess-nymph through love has made Hylas her husband,
on whose account those two wandered and were left behind.”

He spake, and with a plunge wrapped him about with the restless wave;
and round him the dark water foamed in seething eddies and dashed
against the hollow ship as it moved through the sea. And the heroes
rejoiced, and Telamon son of Aeacus came in haste to Jason, and
grasping his hand in his own embraced him with these words:

“Son of Aeson, be not wroth with me, if in my folly I have erred, for
grief wrought upon me to utter a word arrogant and intolerable. But let
me give my fault to the winds and let our hearts be joined as before.”

Him the son of Aeson with prudence addressed: “Good friend, assuredly
with an evil word didst thou revile me, saying before them all that I
was the wronger of a kindly man. But not for long will I nurse bitter
wrath, though indeed before I was grieved. For it was not for flocks of
sheep, no, nor for possessions that thou wast angered to fury, but for
a man, thy comrade. And I were fain thou wouldst even champion me
against another man if a like thing should ever befall me.”

He spake, and they sat down, united as of old. But of those two, by the
counsel of Zeus, one, Polyphemus son of Eilatus, was destined to found
and build a city among the Mysians bearing the river’s name, and the
other, Heracles, to return and toil at the labours of Eurystheus. And
he threatened to lay waste the Mysian land at once, should they not
discover for him the doom of Hylas, whether living or dead. And for him
they gave pledges choosing out the noblest sons of the people and took
an oath that they would never cease from their labour of search.
Therefore to this day the people of Cius enquire for Hylas the son of
Theiodamas, and take thought for the well-built Trachis. For there did
Heracles settle the youths whom they sent from Cius as pledges.

And all day long and all night the wind bore the ship on, blowing fresh
and strong; but when dawn rose there was not even a breath of air. And
they marked a beach jutting forth from a bend of the coast, very broad
to behold, and by dint of rowing came to land at sunrise.




BOOK II


Here were the oxstalls and farm of Amycus, the haughty king of the
Bebrycians, whom once a nymph, Bithynian Melie, united to Poseidon
Genethlius, bare the most arrogant of men; for even for strangers he
laid down an insulting ordinance, that none should depart till they had
made trial of him in boxing; and he had slain many of the neighbours.
And at that time too he went down to the ship and in his insolence
scorned to ask them the occasion of their voyage, and who they were,
but at once spake out among them all:

“Listen, ye wanderers by sea, to what it befits you to know. It is the
rule that no stranger who comes to the Bebrycians should depart till he
has raised his hands in battle against mine. Wherefore select your
bravest warrior from the host and set him here on the spot to contend
with me in boxing. But if ye pay no heed and trample my decrees under
foot, assuredly to your sorrow will stern necessity come upon you.”

Thus he spake in his pride, but fierce anger seized them when they
heard it, and the challenge smote Polydeuces most of all. And quickly
he stood forth his comrades’ champion, and cried:

“Hold now, and display not to us thy brutal violence, whoever thou art;
for we will obey thy rules, as thou sayest. Willingly now do I myself
undertake to meet thee.”

Thus he spake outright; but the other with rolling eyes glared on him,
like to a lion struck by a javelin when hunters in the mountains are
hemming him round, and, though pressed by the throng, he reeks no more
of them, but keeps his eyes fixed, singling out that man only who
struck him first and slew him not. Hereupon the son of Tyndareus laid
aside his mantle, closely-woven, delicately-wrought, which one of the
Lemnian maidens had given him as a pledge of hospitality; and the king
threw down his dark cloak of double fold with its clasps and the
knotted crook of mountain olive which he carried. Then straightway they
looked and chose close by a spot that pleased them and bade their
comrades sit upon the sand in two lines; nor were they alike to behold
in form or in stature. The one seemed to be a monstrous son of baleful
Typhoeus or of Earth herself, such as she brought forth aforetime, in
her wrath against Zeus; but the other, the son of Tyndareus, was like a
star of heaven, whose beams are fairest as it shines through the
nightly sky at eventide. Such was the son of Zeus, the bloom of the
first down still on his cheeks, still with the look of gladness in his
eyes. But his might and fury waxed like a wild beast’s; and he poised
his hands to see if they were pliant as before and were not altogether
numbed by toil and rowing. But Amycus on his side made no trial; but
standing apart in silence he kept his eyes upon his foe, and his spirit
surged within him all eager to dash the life-blood from his breast. And
between them Lyeoreus, the henchman of Amycus, placed at their feet on
each side two pairs of gauntlets made of raw hide, dry, exceeding
tough. And the king addressed the hero with arrogant words:

“Whichever of these thou wilt, without casting lots, I grant thee
freely, that thou mayst not blame me hereafter. Bind them about thy
hands; thou shalt learn and tell another how skilled I am to carve the
dry oxhides and to spatter men’s cheeks with blood.”

Thus he spake; but the other gave back no taunt in answer, but with a
light smile readily took up the gauntlets that lay at his feet; and to
him came Castor and mighty Talaus, son of Bias, and they quickly bound
the gauntlets about his hands, often bidding him be of good courage.
And to Amycus came Aretus and Ornytus, but little they knew, poor
fools, that they had bound them for the last time on their champion, a
victim of evil fate.

Now when they stood apart and were ready with their gauntlets,
straightway in front of their faces they raised their heavy hands and
matched their might in deadly strife. Hereupon the Bebrycian king even
as a fierce wave of the sea rises in a crest against a swift ship, but
she by the skill of the crafty pilot just escapes the shock when the
billow is eager to break over the bulwark—so he followed up the son of
Tyndareus, trying to daunt him, and gave him no respite. But the hero,
ever unwounded, by his skill baffled the rush of his foe, and he
quickly noted the brutal play of his fists to see where he was
invincible in strength, and where inferior, and stood unceasingly and
returned blow for blow. And as when shipwrights with their hammers
smite ships’ timbers to meet the sharp clamps, fixing layer upon layer;
and the blows resound one after another; so cheeks and jaws crashed on
both sides, and a huge clattering of teeth arose, nor did they cease
ever from striking their blows until laboured gasping overcame both.
And standing a little apart they wiped from their foreheads sweat in
abundance, wearily panting for breath. Then back they rushed together
again, as two bulls fight in furious rivalry for a grazing heifer. Next
Amycus rising on tiptoe, like one who slays an ox, sprung to his full
height and swung his heavy hand down upon his rival; but the hero
swerved aside from the rush, turning his head, and just received the
arm on his shoulder; and coming near and slipping his knee past the
king’s, with a rush he struck him above the ear, and broke the bones
inside, and the king in agony fell upon his knees; and the Minyan
heroes shouted for joy; and his life was poured forth all at once.

Nor were the Bebrycians reckless of their king; but all together took
up rough clubs and spears and rushed straight on Polydeuces. But in
front of him stood his comrades, their keen swords drawn from the
sheath. First Castor struck upon the head a man as he rushed at him:
and it was cleft in twain and fell on each side upon his shoulders. And
Polydeuces slew huge Itymoneus and Mimas. The one, with a sudden leap,
he smote beneath the breast with his swift foot and threw him in the
dust; and as the other drew near he struck him with his right hand
above the left eyebrow, and tore away his eyelid and the eyeball was
left bare. But Oreides, insolent henchman of Amycus, wounded Talaus son
of Bias in the side, but did not slay him, but only grazing the skin
the bronze sped under his belt and touched not the flesh. Likewise
Aretus with well-seasoned club smote Iphitus, the steadfast son of
Eurytus, not yet destined to an evil death; assuredly soon was he
himself to be slain by the sword of Clytius. Then Ancaeus, the
dauntless son of Lycurgus, quickly seized his huge axe, and in his left
hand holding a bear’s dark hide, plunged into the midst of the
Bebrycians with furious onset; and with him charged the sons of Aeacus,
and with them started warlike Jason. And as when amid the folds grey
wolves rush down on a winter’s day and scare countless sheep, unmarked
by the keen-scented dogs and the shepherds too, and they seek what
first to attack and carry off; often glaring around, but the sheep are
just huddled together and trample on one another; so the heroes
grievously scared the arrogant Bebrycians. And as shepherds or
beekeepers smoke out a huge swarm of bees in a rock, and they
meanwhile, pent up in their hive, murmur with droning hum, till,
stupefied by the murky smoke, they fly forth far from the rock; so they
stayed steadfast no longer, but scattered themselves inland through
Bebrycia, proclaiming the death of Amycus; fools, not to perceive that
another woe all unforeseen was hard upon them. For at that hour their
vineyards and villages were being ravaged by the hostile spear of Lycus
and the Mariandyni, now that their king was gone. For they were ever at
strife about the ironbearing land. And now the foe was destroying their
steadings and farms, and now the heroes from all sides were driving off
their countless sheep, and one spake among his fellows thus:

“Bethink ye what they would have done in their cowardice if haply some
god had brought Heracles hither. Assuredly, if he had been here, no
trial would there have been of fists, I ween, but when the king drew
near to proclaim his rules, the club would have made him forget his
pride and the rules to boot. Yea, we left him uncared for on the strand
and we sailed oversea; and full well each one of us shall know our
baneful folly, now that he is far away.”

Thus he spake, but all these things had been wrought by the counsels of
Zeus. Then they remained there through the night and tended the hurts
of the wounded men, and offered sacrifice to the immortals, and made
ready a mighty meal; and sleep fell upon no man beside the bowl and the
blazing sacrifice. They wreathed their fair brows with the bay that
grew by the shore, whereto their hawsers were bound, and chanted a song
to the lyre of Orpheus in sweet harmony; and the windless shore was
charmed by their song; and they celebrated the Therapnaean son of
Zeus.[14]

But when the sun rising from far lands lighted up the dewy hills and
wakened the shepherds, then they loosed their hawsers from the stem of
the baytree and put on board all the spoil they had need to take; and
with a favouring wind they steered through the eddying Bosporus.
Hereupon a wave like a steep mountain rose aloft in front as though
rushing upon them, ever upheaved above the clouds; nor would you say
that they could escape grim death, for in its fury it hangs over the
middle of the ship, like a cloud, yet it sinks away into calm if it
meets with a skilful helmsman. So they by the steering-craft of Tiphys
escaped, unhurt but sore dismayed. And on the next day they fastened
the hawsers to the coast opposite the Bithynian land.

There Phineus, son of Agenor, had his home by the sea, Phineus who
above all men endured most bitter woes because of the gift of prophecy
which Leto’s son had granted him aforetime. And he reverenced not a
whit even Zeus himself, for he foretold unerringly to men his sacred
will. Wherefore Zeus sent upon him a lingering old age, and took from
his eyes the pleasant light, and suffered him not to have joy of the
dainties untold that the dwellers around ever brought to his house,
when they came to enquire the will of heaven. But on a sudden, swooping
through the clouds, the Harpies with their crooked beaks incessantly
snatched the food away from his mouth and hands. And at times not a
morsel of food was left, at others but a little, in order that he might
live and be tormented. And they poured forth over all a loathsome
stench; and no one dared not merely to carry food to his mouth but even
to stand at a distance; so foully reeked the remnants of the meal. But
straightway when he heard the voice and the tramp of the band he knew
that they were the men passing by, at whose coming Zeus’ oracle had
declared to him that he should have joy of his food. And he rose from
his couch, like a lifeless dream, bowed over his staff, and crept to
the door on his withered feet, feeling the walls; and as he moved, his
limbs trembled for weakness and age; and his parched skin was caked
with dirt, and naught but the skill held his bones together. And he
came forth from the hall with wearied knees and sat on the threshold of
the courtyard; and a dark stupor covered him, and it seemed that the
earth reeled round beneath his feet, and he lay in a strengthless
trance, speechless. But when they saw him they gathered round and
marvelled. And he at last drew laboured breath from the depths of his
chest and spoke among them with prophetic utterance:

“Listen, bravest of all the Hellenes, if it be truly ye, whom by a
king’s ruthless command Jason is leading on the ship Argo in quest of
the fleece. It is ye truly. Even yet my soul by its divination knows
everything. Thanks I render to thee, O king, son of Leto, plunged in
bitter affliction though I be. I beseech you by Zeus the god of
suppliants, the sternest foe to sinful men, and for the sake of Phoebus
and Hera herself, under whose especial care ye have come hither, help
me, save an ill-fated man from misery, and depart not uncaring and
leaving me thus as ye see. For not only has the Fury set her foot on my
eyes and I drag on to the end a weary old age; but besides my other
woes a woe hangs over me the bitterest of all. The Harpies, swooping
down from some unseen den of destruction, ever snatch the food from my
mouth. And I have no device to aid me. But it were easier, when I long
for a meal, to escape my own thoughts than them, so swiftly do they fly
through the air. But if haply they do leave me a morsel of food it
reeks of decay and the stench is unendurable, nor could any mortal bear
to draw near even for a moment, no, not if his heart were wrought of
adamant. But necessity, bitter and insatiate, compels me to abide and
abiding to put food in my cursed belly. These pests, the oracle
declares, the sons of Boreas shall restrain. And no strangers are they
that shall ward them off if indeed I am Phineus who was once renowned
among men for wealth and the gift of prophecy, and if I am the son of
my father Agenor; and, when I ruled among the Thracians, by my bridal
gifts I brought home their sister Cleopatra to be my wife.”

So spake Agenor’s son; and deep sorrow seized each of the heroes, and
especially the two sons of Boreas. And brushing away a tear they drew
nigh, and Zetes spake as follows, taking in his own the hand of the
grief-worn sire:

“Unhappy one, none other of men is more wretched than thou, methinks.
Why upon thee is laid the burden of so many sorrows? Hast thou with
baneful folly sinned against the gods through thy skill in prophecy?
For this are they greatly wroth with thee? Yet our spirit is dismayed
within us for all our desire to aid thee, if indeed the god has granted
this privilege to us two. For plain to discern to men of earth are the
reproofs of the immortals. And we will never check the Harpies when
they come, for all our desire, until thou hast sworn that for this we
shall not lose the favour of heaven.”

Thus he spake; and towards him the aged sire opened his sightless eyes,
and lifted them up and replied with these words:

“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 after; 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 cheeked 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
his 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 his 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 Aceres, 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 health 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 feel 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 slain, 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
oar, 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 hest 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, eating 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 Dipsaeus 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
Soonautes[15] 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[16] the Acherusian headland and came to land over against it as
the wind had just ceased.

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 Cyzieus; 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 fell. 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[17] and the cave
Aulion.[18]

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 hearts 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[19] 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 his 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.

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,[20] 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.

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 the 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 hailstorm 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. [21] 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 Orehomenus 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.”

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 Orthomenus. 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


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 catty through, smoothing the path in manner befitting. And
he once welcomed noble Phrixus, a fugitive from his stepmother’s wiles
and the sacrifice prepared by his father. For all men everywhere, even
the most shameless, reverence the ordinance of Zeus, god of strangers,
and regard it.”

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.[22] And here an inner-court was built, and round it were many
well-fitted doors and chambers here and there, and all along on each
side was a richly-wrought gallery. And on both sides loftier buildings
stood obliquely. In one, which was the loftiest, lordly Aeetes dwelt
with his queen; and in another dwelt Apsyrtus, son of Aeetes, whom a
Caucasian nymph, Asterodeia, bare before he made Eidyia his wedded
wife, the youngest daughter of Tethys and Oceanus. And the sons of the
Colchians called him by the new name of Phaethon,[23] 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:

“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 [24] in the murky night; and some god preserved us. For even
the birds of Ares that haunted the desert isle beforetime, not even
them did we find. But these men had driven them off, having landed from
their ship on the day before; and the will of Zeus taking pity on us,
or some fate, detained them there, since they straightway gave us both
food and clothing in abundance, when they heard the illustrious name of
Phrixus and thine own; for to thy city are they faring. And if thou
dost wish to know their errand, I will not hide it from time. A certain
king, vehemently longing to drive this man far from his fatherland and
possessions, because in might he outshone all the sons of Aeolus, sends
him to voyage hither on a bootless venture; and asserts that the stock
of Aeolus will not escape the heart-grieving wrath and rage of
implacable Zeus, nor the unbearable curse and vengeance due for
Phrixus, until the fleece comes back to Hellas. And their ship was
fashioned by Pallas Athena, not such a one as are the ships among the
Colchians, on the vilest of which we chanced. For the fierce waves and
wind broke her utterly to pieces; but the other holds firm with her
bolts, even though all the blasts should buffet her. And with equal
swiftness she speedeth before the wind and when the crew ply the oar
with unresting hands. And he hath gathered in her the mightiest heroes
of all Achaea, and hath come to thy city from wandering far through
cities and gulfs of the dread ocean, in the hope that thou wilt grant
him the fleece. But as thou dost please, so shall it be, for he cometh
not to use force, but is eager to pay thee a recompense for the gift.
He has heard from me of thy bitter foes the Sauromatae, and he will
subdue them to thy sway. And if thou desirest to know their names and
lineage I will tell thee all. This man on whose account the rest were
gathered from Hellas, they call Jason, son of Aeson, whom Cretheus
begat. And if in truth he is of the stock of Cretheus himself, thus he
would be our kinsman on the father’s side. For Cretheus and Athamas
were both sons of Aeolus; and Phrixus was the son of Athamas, son of
Aeolus. And here, if thou hast heard at all of the seed of Helios, thou
dost behold Augeias; and this is Telamon sprung from famous Aeacus; and
Zeus himself begat Aeacus. And so all the rest, all the comrades that
follow him, are the sons or grandsons of the immortals.”

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 the seed,
not the corn of Demeter, but the teeth of a dread serpent that grow up
into the fashion of armed men; them I slay at once, cutting them down
beneath my spear as they rise against me on all sides. In the morning
do I yoke the oxen, and at eventide I cease from the harvesting. And
thou, if thou wilt accomplish such deeds as these, on that very day
shalt carry off the fleece to the king’s palace; ere that time comes I
will not give it, expect it not. For indeed it is unseemly that a brave
man should yield to a coward.”

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 Apharcian Idas and shouted loudly in
terrible wrath: “Shame on us, have we come here fellow voyagers with
women, calling on Cypris for help and not on the mighty strength of
Enyalius? And do ye look to doves and hawks to save yourselves from
contests? Away with you, take thought not for deeds of war, but by
supplication to beguile weakling girls.”

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 evildoers, that they might
recklessly drive him from his honour and his throne; for once he had
heard a baleful prophecy from his father Helios, that he must avoid the
secret treachery and schemes of his own offspring and their crafty
mischief. Wherefore he was sending them, as they desired, to the
Achaean land at the bidding of their father—a long journey. Nor had he
ever so slight a fear of his daughters, that they would form some
hateful scheme, nor of his son Apsyrtus; but this curse was being
fulfilled in the children of Chalciope. And he proclaimed terrible
things in his rage against the strangers, and loudly threatened to keep
watch over the ship and its crew, so that no one might escape calamity.

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 far away among his own
folk; let maidenhood be mine and the home of my parents. Yet, taking to
myself a reckless heart, I will no more keep aloof but will make trial
of my sister to see if she will entreat me to aid in the contest,
through grief for her own sons; this would quench the bitter pain in my
heart.”

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 call I tell them? What trick, what
cunning device for aid can I find? If I see him alone, apart from his
comrades, shall I greet him? Ill-starred that I am! I c

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