Apollonius Rhodius: Argonautica
Book III
Translated by Christopher Kelk
© Copyright 2020 Christopher Kelk, All Rights Reserved.
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Erato, tell me, standing by my side,
How, aided by the passion of his bride,
Medea, Jason brought the fleece from there
To Colchis. Aphrodite’s power you share
For charming unwed maidens – hence your name
Of love. Thus in thick reeds those men of fame
In ambush hid. However, they were spied
By Hera and Athene who, aside
From Zeus and the other gods, in a chamber weighed
Their options. Hera, first to speak, assayed 10
Athene: “Zeus’s daughter, let me see
Your counsel first. What’s to be done? Tell me
Of some device to take the golden fleece
Away from Aeëtes and back to Greece.
Or shall they sway the king with gentleness
Of speech? For he is full of haughtiness.
There is no scheme that ought to stay untried.”
She spoke. Athene speedily replied:
“Hera, these things I too was pondering
As you spoke out. As yet, though, not a thing 20
Has struck me that will help these noble men,
Though I’ve weighed many strategies.” So then
Both fixed their eyes upon the ground as they
Brooded apart. Then Hera straightaway
Expressed the thoughts she had: “Pray come with me
To Aphrodite that together we
Might get her to persuade her son to dart
One of his shafts at the enchantress’ heart,
Aeëtes’ daughter, causing love to spring
In her for Jason. That’s the very thing! 30
Her schemes will bring the fleece to Greece,” said she.
Athene liked this clever strategy
And gently answered: “Hera, born to learn
No lessons from the darts which make folk burn,
I know no love-charms but, if what you say
Contents you, I’ll agree in every way,
Though you must speak first at our rendezvous.”
She spoke and they set off, journeying to
Cypris’ large home, which her lame husband wrought
When first from Zeus, to be his wife, he brought 40
The goddess. To the court they came and there
They stood beneath the gallery, just where
The goddess had prepared Hephaestos’ bed,
But he had gone, as soon as night had fled,
To his forge and anvil on a floating isle,
In a broad cave, where he in many a style
And with the blast of flame had shaped much art;
Upon an inlaid seat she sat apart,
Facing the door, her snow-white shoulders cloaked
With locks that with a golden comb she stroked, 50
About to braid their length. She saw them there
And called them in, ceasing to comb her hair,
And rose and sat them down. When she’d done that,
Starting to bind her uncombed locks, she sat
As well, then smiled and hailed them craftily:
“Dear friends, what brings you here so tardily?
You were not frequent visitors before,
Since you are goddesses superior
To all of us. Why come now? This address
Hera rejoined: “You mock us. But distress 60
Disturbs us. Argo, Jason’s ship, is moored
Upon the River Phasis, and on board
Are all the other heroes. For each one
We greatly fear – the labour to be done
Is close at hand – but more specifically
We fear for Jason. That man I will free
Even if he to Hades were to sail
To rescue Ixion from his golden gaol
Of fetters, while my limbs possess the might,
That Pelias, having dodged an evil plight, 70
May not make mock – for his pomposity
Denied me sacrifice. Yet previously
Was Jason loved by me: at the gateway
Of the Anaurus’ flood I made essay
Of mortal righteousness, and there he met
Me, coming from the hunt. The snow had wet
The peaks and lengthy ridges, down which poured
The torrents that, cascading, rolled and roared.
I had assumed the similarity
Of an old crone and, thus, he pitied me: 80
He hoisted me and carried me straight through
The strong tide on his back - I will value
Him always for that. Pelias will not pay
For his outrage unless you pave the way
For Jason’s safe return.” She spoke. At that
Was Cypris rendered dumb as she looked at
The pleading Hera, she with awe and dread
Was struck, and thus with friendly words she said:
“Queen, goddess, may there be no viler thing
Than is Cypris if, at your hankering, 90
I undervalue you in word or deed,
Whatever my weak hands can do. I need
No favour in return.” Hera replied
With prudence: “Our quest you need not provide
With might. No, call your boy-child quietly
To captivate with love’s intensity
For Jason young Medea. I surmise
That, should she kindly aid him, being wise
In guile, with ease he’ll snatch the fleece of gold
And sail to Iolcus.” This was Cypris told, 100
Who said to both of them: “You he will heed
Rather than me: bold-faced he is indeed,
But there will be some small shame in his eyes
Before you, while he will not recognize
My worth but always in contentiousness
Disdains me. Angry at his naughtiness,
His bow and his ill-sounding darts I mean
To break within his sight. For he has been
So angry that he threatens that, if I
Do not keep off him while he makes a try 110
At stifling his temper, he will do
Me mischief.” Thus she spoke, and then those two
Smiled, looking at each other. Cypris, though,
Said in vexation: “Others find my woe
Amusing. I should not tell it to all –
I know it all too well – but, since you call
It pleasant, I’ll appeal to and beguile
The boy. He’ll not deny me.” With a smile,
Then Hera took her by her slender hand
And gently said: “O goddess from the land 120
Of Cythera, do just that immediately.
Do not be angry at your progeny:
He will not vex you now.” That’s what she said.
She left her seat and, with Athene, sped
Back home. Then Cypris went to search the ground
In the Olymplan glens, and then she found
The boy among Zeus’s large apple-trees,
Apart but not alone – Ganymedes
Was with him, whom Zeus once brought through the air
To live among the gods, for he was fair 130
And Zeus was smitten. They were gambling
With golden dice, which is a common thing
For boys together. Eros stood upright
And greedily was holding very tight
Many dice in his left hand close to his chest,
His cheek with rosy colour sweetly blessed.
The other crouched nearby, both taciturn
And sad. The two he had he threw in turn,
Made angry by Eros’s laughing tone.
He lost those, too, then wandered off alone, 140
Helpless and empty-handed, unaware
Of the approach of Cypris. Standing there
Before him, she now held him by the chin
And said: “You dreadful rogue, why do you grin
In triumph? Did you cheat and sinfully
Defeat the innocent lad? Come, do for me
A task I’ll tell you of, and that fine toy
Of Zeus I’ll give you (when he was a boy
With boyish ways in the Idaean cave,
His dear nurse Adrasteia made and gave 150
It to him). It is a well-rounded ball.
You’ll get no better love-gift, not at all,
From Hephaestus. All its zones are gold, and round
Each one of them a double seam is bound.
Each stitch is hidden; over everything
Is a dark-blue spiral. Toss it – it will zing
Just like a flaming star. This gift from me
You’ll get, but you must charm the progeny
Of Aeëtes with an arrow from your bow
With love for Jason. You must not be slow 160
Or else I’ll thank you less.” He heard her say
These words and revelled, then he cast away
All of his toys. He grasped her eagerly
And clung on to her robe. He made a plea
To give it him at once. But she then drew
His cheeks to her and cordially, too,
She, smiling, said: “I swear, by you and me,
I’ll give this present – no chicanery –
If that Medea’s heart will be injected
With love by you.” She spoke. Then he collected 170
His dice, then counted all of them, then flung
Them in his mother’s shining lap, then hung
Around his frame his quiver which he’d leant,
With its gold sash, against a trunk, then went
With his bow straight through the apple-trees which bear
Much fruit near Zeus’s hall, high in the air
Passing through Olympus’ gates. Twin poles on high,
The highest peaks on earth, held in the sky
Steep mountains where the sun, with its first rays,
Begins to redden. He could cast his gaze 180
From here upon life-giving earth as well
As sacred streams, the peaks, the ocean’s swell,
As through the air he flew. A marshy part
Of the river held the heroes all apart
In ambush on their benches, meeting there
In council. Jason spoke. The very air
Was hushed as they attended silently,
Row upon row in place: “What pleases me,
My friends, I’ll tell you; and you all must do
The task in hand, common to all the crew, 190
As is free speech: let him who locks away
His views know that it’s he alone this day
Who thwarts the army’s safe return to Greece.
The rest, stay with your arms, enjoy some peace
Upon the ship, but I’ll be on my way
To the palace of Aeëtes to assay
The man with words to see if cordially
He’ll give the fleece to us or not – if he
Trusts in his power, he will snub our quest.
The sons of Phrixus and, among the rest, 200
Two others I’ll take with me. Since we know
His former badness, whether we should go
To battle or devise some other scheme
In lieu of battle-cries shall be our theme.
Till we test him with words, let us not wrest
The fleece from him by force: it is far best
To win him verbally. For frequently
That’s often met a need, when potency
Could hardly win: apt mellowness and ease
Prevailed. When his stepmother’s knaveries 210
And father’s plan to sacrifice him he
Escaped, Aeëtes’ hospitality
The noble Phrixus had. The wickedest
Of men – yes, all – revere Zeus’s behest
(For he’s the god of strangers).” With one voice
The youths cheered what he said. No other choice
Of action could be heard among the men.
He called upon the sons of Phrixus then,
Telamon and Augeias. He held the wand
Of Hermes. Then at once they passed beyond 220
The reeds and water onto the dry land
And where the plain rose up – I understand
They call it Circe’s. There, line after line
Grow many willows, and, attached with twine,
Corpses hung from their tops – at this late date
It’s still considered evil to cremate
Dead men by the Colchians, while burial
And monuments are likewise criminal.
Instead, wrapped in untanned oxhides, they are
Suspended from the trees some distance far 230
From the city, thereby making earth and air
Share equal portions, for the women there
Are buried – that’s their law. As on they went,
In kindly thoughtfulness Queen Hera sent
A heavy mist throughout the town that they
Might not be seen, as they went on their way,
By the vast horde of Colchians. Then again,
When they came to the city from the plain
And the palace of Aeëtes, she diffused
The mist. They stood at the entrance, quite bemused 240
At the king’s courts, the broad gates and, around
The walls in rows, the columns, while they found,
High up, a stone cornice resting upon
Its bronze triglyphs. In silence they passed on
Beyond the threshold. There were vines nearby,
Blooming with dark-green foliage on high;
Four ever-flowing fountains stood below
(Hephaestus had acquired them). A flow
Of milk gushed out of one, another teemed
With wine, while odiferous oil outstreamed 250
From a third, the fourth poured water which became,
At the Pleiads’ setting, warm, yet that selfsame
Liquid, when they arose, would bubble out
Of the hollow rock, a crystalled, icy spout.
In the palace of Cytaian Aeëtes
Craftsman Hephaestus had built all of these
Wonderful things. Bulls he had made, their feet
Of bronze, their mouths as well – a scorching heat
Breathed out of them. He’d also forged a plough
Of rigid adamant in one piece, a vow 260
Of thanks to Helios, who took him upon
His chariot to rest, when he was wan
From fighting. There was built an inner square
With well-built doors and chambers here and there;
On either side there was a gallery,
Cunningly fashioned, and, diagonally,
There were yet higher homes that faced each other.
Aeëtes and his wife lived in another,
The loftiest. Another housed his son
Apsyrtus, born to a Caucasian, 270
The nymph Asteropodeia, before he
Took young Eidyia into matrimony,
Tethys’ and Ocean’s youngest girl. The name
Phaëthon was chosen, since his fame
Outstripped all other young men, by the sons
Of the Colchians, and then the other ones
Housed servants and the two girls of the king –
They came upon Medea wandering
From room to room, seeking Chalciope,
Her sister, who was kept in custody 280
By Hera, unaccustomed to frequent
The halls before because all day she’d spent,
As priestess, at the shrine of Hecate.
She saw them and cried out. Chalciope
Picked up the sound at once. Their yarn and thread
The maids threw at their feet, then out they sped
In droves. When she saw in that company
Her sons, she raised her hands in ecstasy.
They greeted her likewise; in joy they swept
Her up in their embrace and then she wept 290
And said: “So it was not your destiny
To travel far and leave me heedlessly
And cause me grief. Ah, what a mad desire
To travel far to Greece set you afire
At your father Phrixus’ urging! As he died,
He caused my heart sorely to sorrow. Why’d
You go to the city of Orchomenus,
Whatever that is, and cause calamitous
Grief to your mother, for the property
Of Athamas?” She spoke. Then finally 300
Aeëtes ventured out, his wife as well,
Hearing Chalciope. Then such a swell
Of people now were thronging the courtyard.
Some slaves with a huge bull were working hard,
Some chopping kindling, some bringing to boil
Bath-water. None of them left off his toil
That served the king. Then, through the murky air,
Unseen, flew Eros, causing everywhere
Confusion, as a gadfly on a herd
Of heifers (oxherds call it by the word 310
Myops) brings havoc. Once he’d strung his bow,
From his quiver a virgin arrow, full of woe,
He took beneath the lintel. Speedily,
Unseen, he crossed the threshold, cannily
Looking about, then, gliding nearer to
The son of Aeson, notched the cord and drew
The bow apart with both his hands, let go
And struck Medea, who was by this blow
Then rendered speechless. Eros laughingly
Flew back home from the high-roofed palace; she 320
Had been profoundly pierced, deep in the heart,
The bolt like flame. Her eyes would often dart
A flashing glance at Jason; from her breast
Her heart would thickly pant in its unrest;
Her memory was gone and in sweet ache
She melted, as a poor woman will take
Around a blazing brand some kindling
While spinning wool, that in the evening
She may have light within the house when she
Had been roused early; this small quantity 330
Of flame with wondrous blaze reduced to ash
Each stick of wood; so in a hidden flash
Destructive Eros round about her twined;
Her delicate cheeks, through her distracted mind,
Alternately grew sickly pale, then red.
After the servants had laid out a spread
And they had bathed, they revelled merrily
In meat and drink, and then accordingly
Aeëtes to his sons-in-law said: “You
Sons of Medea and of Phrixus, who 340
Was my most honoured guest, why are you back
In Aia? Were you put upon the rack
By Fate in your escape? You paid no mind
To me when your long journey I outlined.
When Helios my father hurried me
Behind his steeds I could not fail to see
Its length. My sister Circe to the west
He was conveying; so we came to rest
On the Tyrrhenian shore, where still today
She dwells, from Colchis many miles away. 350
What joy is there in words? Then lucidly
Say what befell you, who these men may be
Who travel with you, and where you touched shore
Upon your hollow ship.” Argos, before
His kin in fear for the son of Aeson’s quest,
Replied (for he was older than the rest)
With gentle words: “Aeëtes, she was split
By violent squalls, and then the crew was spit
On dry land by a wave in murky night
(We’d crouched under the beams) then to alight 360
On Euryalios Isle. We were rescued
By some god. In that island’s solitude
Even the Arian birds that, before then,
Had dwelt there we could not find, for these men
Had driven them off when they had come ashore
The previous day. Then Zeus felt pity for
Our plight (or else some Fate), for he delayed
Them there, since straightaway a gift they made
Of plenteous food and clothes, once the renowned
“Phrixus” they heard, and your name, for they’re bound 370
For your own city. If you wish to know
Their quest, I’ll not withhold it. Longing so
To drive this man far from his property
And native land because in toughness he
Outstrips all of the house of Aeolus,
A king contrives a fruitless venture thus
For him and threatens Aeolus’s line
Will not break free from Zeus incarnadine
And his great wrath until the fleece is brought
To Greece. This ship Pallas Athene wrought, 380
Not one like those you might in Colchis see
(We chanced upon its worst epitome
Which blasts and fierce winds shattered). This, however,
Her bolts hold firm should every squall endeavour
To buffet her. She speeds before the breeze
As fast as when her oarsmen beat the seas
Unceasingly. So Jason chose the best
Of Greece’s heroes, sailing without rest
Through many towns across the angry foam
To your domain to take the fleece back home. 390
It shall be as you wish – to use duress
He is not here; payment of worthiness
He’ll give to you, for he has heard from me
Of the Sauromatae, your greatest enemy:
He’ll crush them to your sway. In answer to
Your wish to know their names and race, to you
I’ll tell all. This man, for whose sake did all
The others gather out of Greece, they call
Jason, grandson of Cretheus, who begat
His father Aeson. If it’s genuine that 400
He’s of the lineage of Cretheus, he
Is our kin from the father’s family –
Both Athamas and Cretheus Aiolos
Begat, and Athamas begat Phrixos.
You’ve heard of Helios’ seed? Well then behold
Augeias. Here is Telamon, the bold
Aeacos’ son and Zeus’ grandson. The rest
With him can trace their lineage to the blessed
Immortals.” Thus spoke Argos. Nonetheless
This irked the king, angry tempestuousness 410
Causing his heart to rise, so testily
He spoke, his anger aimed especially
At Chalciope’s sons. For it was his surmise
The Argo came because of them. His eyes
Flashed in his fury. “Sinners, disappear
At once, you and your tricks. Begone from here
Lest someone to his sorrow see the fleece
And Phrixus! You and these men came from Greece
Not for the fleece but kingly dignity –
My sceptre! Had my hospitality 420
Not fed your stomachs, then I would have cut
Your tongues and hands off, sending you with but
Your feet upon your way and hindering
Your setting forth again and perjuring
Yourselves before the blessed gods.” Thus he
In his displeasure spoke. Then mightily
The heart of Telamon began to swell
Deep down and in his soul he longed to tell
A deadly tale to him in confrontation,
But Jason hindered him and, in placation, 430
Spoke in his stead: “Aeëtes, with this crew
Have patience, please. We have not come to you
To do what you surmise. Who’d cross the sea
So far to steal a stranger’s property?
No, no, fate and a ruthless king’s command
Compelled me. Grant our prayer and through the land
Of Greece I’ll publish your great prominence.
We’re ready now to pay swift recompense
In war, should you desire to overthrow
The Sauromatae or any other foe.” 440
He spoke with words both mild and flattering.
Yet with a two-fold purpose did the king
Sit brooding. Should he slay them instantly
Or test their strength? The latter seemed to be
The better choice to him, so in reply
He said: “Why must you tell all, stranger? Why,
If you indeed are of the heavenly line,
Your stock thus not inferior to mine,
I’ll give the fleece and gratify your will
Once you’ve been tested. For I bear no ill 450
To honest men, such as the one you say
Rules Greece. There’ll be a contest to assay
Your strength which I can compass though it be
A lethal one. Two bulls belong to me,
Bronze-footed, grazing on Ares’ plateau
And breathing flame. I yoke them and we go
Through his severe four-acre field. With speed
I cleave it to its edge and cast the seed
In the furrows – not the corn of Mother Earth
But a dread serpent’s teeth which then give birth 460
To armed men whom I slaughter with my spear
As they attack me from both front and rear.
At dawn I yoke my oxen and at close
Of day I cease to plough. If feats like those
You master, you shall take that very day
This fleece back to your king. I’ll say you nay
Till then, you may be sure. The valorous
Should not surrender to the timorous.”
He spoke, and Jason sat there silently,
His eyes fixed downward, his extremity 470
Leaving him helpless. Brooding long, his mind
Turned now this way, now that, he could not find
His courage for the deed (it seemed so vast).
With crafty words he answered him at last:
“Aeëtes, you restrict me with your plea
Of right. I’ll take your challenge, though it be
A great one, even if it is the will
Of the gods that I should die: no harsher ill
Befalls a man than ruinous privation,
Which brought me, through a kingly proclamation, 480
To you.” He spoke, with helplessness laid low.
Aeëtes, though, with words that fit a foe,
Replied: “Go to the meeting, since for sweat
You yearn, but if you shake with fear to set
The yoke upon the bulls or should you shy
From deadly harvesting, you’ll see that I
Shall be the victor in all this: in fact
Another man may quake to interact
With a better.” This was his abrupt response.
Then Jason rose up from his seat at once, 490
Augeias and Telamon too. Argos, as well,
Followed alone and gave a sign to tell
His brothers to remain. They left the hall,
And Jason’s grace and beauty through them all
Shone out; the maid with sidelong glances cast
Her eyes on him and held her bright veil tight
To one side, while her heart was smouldering
With pain. Her soul, dream-like, was slithering
And flitting in his tracks. In sore distress
They left the palace. Now with speediness 500
Chalciope to her room had made repair
With all her sons, for she was taking care
To keep far from Aeëtes’ indignation.
Medea went as well, in rumination
About those things the Loves arouse. To her
He still appeared – his clothes, his character,
His words, the way he sat, the way he went
Towards the door: it was her sentiment
That there was none like him, while constantly
His voice, the honeyed words he spoke would be 510
Upon her ears. For him she worried lest
The oxen or the king himself would best
And kill him, grieving as though he were slain
Outright already, while in her great pain
There trickled down her cheek a soft, sad tear.
She wept and softly spoke up loud and clear:
“Why am I melancholy? Should he die
The best or worst of all the heroes, I
Say let him meet his doom. O would that he
Were safe; however, o Queen Hecate, 520
And sailed back home unharmed. If the gods ordain,
However, that by oxen he’ll be slain,
Let him know in this dread calamity
I’ll take no pleasure. So oppressed was she
By love’s bite. When the others left the town
And people by the path they’d travelled down
From the plain, Jason by Argos was addressed:
“Jason, you’ll hate my plan but so oppressed
Are we that I don’t think that we should shun
The contest. You have heard me talk of one 530
Young maid who practises some sorcery
Through Hecate’s advice. It seems to me
That, if we trust in her, no longer will
We fear to be defeated thus. But still
I greatly dread my mother won’t agree
To do this thing, but, since calamity
Is hanging over us, then back I’ll go
To meet her.” These kind words he answered so:
“If you believe in what you say, my friend,
I’ll not refuse. Go to your mother, bend 540
Her ear with crafty words. Wretched indeed
Is hope of reaching Hellas if we need
To turn to women.” Thus he spoke and then
They quickly reached the backwater. The men,
When they came close, made question joyfully,
And Jason answered them disconsolately:
“My friends, there’s anger in Aeëtes’ soul
At us and we will never reach our goal,
Nor I nor you. He says on the lowland
Of Ares graze two bulls, bronze-footed and 550
Exhaling fire. This four-acre field
He bade me plough and said that he would yield
To me a serpent’s seed, which he will take
Out of its jaws and which will later make
Earth-born, bronze-armoured men. That very day
I must subdue them. This without delay
I took upon me, for no better plan
Existed.” Thus he spoke, and every man
Deemed it impossible, while silently
Regarding one another, tragedy 560
And helplessness oppressing them. But then
At last Peleus spoke up among the men
Who led the quest. He boldly stated: “It
Is time to plan our move. Yet benefit
Comes less from talk than might. If you’re intent
On yoking Aeëtes’ oxen, Jason, bent
On tackling this toil, to your vow you’ll hold
And in your preparations yet be bold,
But if you do not trust implicitly
Her skill, don’t go ahead nor try to see, 570
As you sit there, some other man to take
The task upon him. I shan’t shrink or quake
Since merely death will be the bitterest
Of pain for me.” He spoke, and Telamon’s breast
Was stirred. He rose, agog, immediately,
Then Idas in his pride made Number Three,
Tyndareus’ sons and Oineus’ son as well,
A mighty man, though yet there did not dwell
Soft down upon his cheek, so did his breast
With courage swell. In silence sat the rest, 580
Taking no part. Then Argos instantly
Said to the men who hungered eagerly
For the contest: “Friends, it’s we who in the end
Must act. My mother, I believe, will lend
Her timely aid. Now stay a short while more
On board, though eager, as you did before –
It’s better to refrain than carelessly
To end up with a tragic destiny.
Aeëtes’ halls have nurtured a young maid
Who learnt to master ably, with the aid 590
Of Hecate, the herbs that Nature grows
On land and in the flowing waters: those
Can quench a blast of endless flame, impede
At once the roaring rivers as they speed
Upon their way and exercise control
Over the holy moon from pole to pole
And all the stars. We thought of her as we
Went from the hall with the expectancy
My mother, her own sister, might prevail
Upon her now to offer some avail 600
For this contest. If this pleases you, this day
To make the trial I’ll be on my way
Back to Aeëtes’ palace. I’ll succeed
Perhaps with some god’s help.” He spoke. Indeed
The gods gave him a sign of their goodwill:
As he fled from a mighty falcon’s bill,
A dove, trembling with fear, fell from on high
Into the lap of Jason. From the sky
The falcon fell upon the figurehead,
Impaled. Prophetically then Mopsus said: 610
‘My friends, this sign is heaven’s divination
And there is only one interpretation:
We must seek out the maid and skilfully
Try to persuade her, and it seems to me
She’ll not deny us if Phineus did say
That our return on Aphrodite lay.
This gentle bird of hers escaped his fate,
So by this falcon I prognosticate
My victory. My friends, invoke the shield
Of Cytherea and to Argos yield 620
Yourselves.” These words were praised by the young men
Recalling Phineus’s advice. But then
Idas, the son of Aphareus, of all
The only one, leapt up and, filled with gall,
Yelled: “Travellers with women, o for shame!
We call on Cypris, not the warlike fame
Of Ares, look to doves and hawks to stay
Away from toil! Don’t think of war! Away!
Beguile weak girls!” He shouted eagerly.
Though many of his comrades quietly 630
Murmured, not one replied. Back down again
He sat in indignation. Jason then
Spoke his own mind with this encouragement:
“Since all approve this, let Argos be sent
Ashore. But we will leave the river and
In full view tie our hawsers to the land.
We should no longer hide, far from the shout
Of battle.” Thus he spoke and summoned out
Argos at once with orders with all speed
To go back to the city and decreed 640
That they draw up their anchors and then row
A little from the marsh, and they did so.
At once Aeëtes held a convocation
With the Colchians far away from the location
Of the palace, where they’d sat before, so he
Could plan distress and ruthless treachery
For the Minyans. When the oxen tore asunder
Him who this heavy task had knuckled under,
He threatened that above the leafy height
He’d hew the oak-grove down and set alight 650
The ship with all its men, that they might vent
Their grief for being proudly insolent
In all their schemes. Though he had been distressed,
He would not have had Phrixus as a guest –
A man in warmth and grace beyond compare –
Had Zeus not sent a herald through the air,
Hermes, that he might meet a friendly host,
He stated, nor would pirates live to boast
That they were scatheless there – men resolute
On seizing others’ goods, who plan astute 660
And wily schemes and with strident sorties
Burn peasants’ stables. Also, penalties
Were due from Phrixus’ sons for coming there
With sinners and taking, without a care,
His honour and his sceptre: earlier, he
Had from his father heard a prophecy
Most dreadful: Helios told him he must shun
The cunning tricks and tactics of each son
Of his and their crafty iniquity.
So, as they wished, by fatherly decree 670
He sent them to Achaia, far away:
His daughters caused no little fear – did they
Plan something vile? – and his male progeny,
Apsyrtus. But upon the family
Of Chalciope this foul curse would be brought
And to these folk he spoke dread things, all wrought
In rage. He threatened to keep in his sight
The ship and all the crew that no-one might
Escape his death. Meanwhile, Argos, who’d gone
To Aeëtes’ palace, on and on 680
His mother to entreat Medea’s aid:
She’d thought to do this earlier, afraid,
However, lest she pointlessly should seek
To beg a maid who feared the fatal pique
Of her own father or, should her request
Be met, her deeds would all be manifest.
Deep sleep had soothed the maid, taking away
Her love-distress as on her couch she lay.
But fearful, crafty, grievous dreams appeared:
The foreigner had taken on, she feared, 690
The contest not to take away the fleece –
He had not travelled from his native Greece
To Aeëtes’ town, she thought, for this – oh no,
He’d hither come to choose a bride and go
Back home: she fought the oxen easily,
She thought: her parents for their guarantee
Had no regard, for her they did not dare
To yoke the beasts but Jason, and from there
Arose between her father and these men
Contention of a doubtful issue: then 700
They told her that she should herself decide
What she should do and, setting them aside,
She chose the stranger. Wretched misery
Assailed them and they shouted angrily.
Sleep left her with a cry. Quaking with dread,
She leapt up, looking, as she lay in bed,
At those four walls and barely summoning
Her spirit as before and bellowing:
“Alas, these gloomy dreams have frightened me ;
I fear great ill comes from this odyssey 710
Of men. My heart is fluttering with fear
For the stranger. Let him far away from here
Among his own woo some Achaean maid;
Let maidenhood and life at home be laid
Upon me. Recklessly, however, I
No more shall stay aloof. No, I will try
My sister so that I may see if she
Will ask my help in the contest, misery
Assailing her for her own sons. This may
Quench all my grief. “ That’s what she had to say. 720
She rose, opened the door, barefoot and clad
In just one tunic and – for now she had
A yen to go and see her sister – went
Across the threshold. Standing there, she spent
A long time, checked by shame. She turned back then,
Then exited once more, then back again
She stole; her feet would go hither and yon
In vain; as often as she went straight on,
Shame kept her in the room. Shame held her fast,
Then bold love urged her on again. At last, 730
After three times of turning either way,
She fell upon her bed, in her dismay
Writhing. Just as a bride within her room
Sits grieving for her young husband to whom
Her parents and her brother gave her, nor
Yet has conversed with all her servants, for
Shame and reserve preclude such things. So she
Sits on her own and grieves; some tragedy
Has taken him before they can delight
In each one’s body. At the very sight 740
Of the empty bed she weeps inaudibly,
Her heart on fire, lest the women see
And mock her. Thus Medea showed her woe.
A maid who served her saw her crying so
When she came near and told Chalciope
Who sat among her sons in reverie
On how to coax her sister. When she heard
The maid’s strange tale, she trusted every word.
She rushed straight to her sister’s room, alarmed;
She lay there in her grief, where she had harmed 750
Her cheeks by clawing. When she saw each eye
Tear-filled, she said to her: “Why do you cry,
Medea? What is wrong? What dire distress
Affects you? Has some god-inspired sickness
Assailed your body? Have you maybe heard
Your father tell you of some dreadful word
Of menace to my progeny and me?
Would that my parents’ home I may not see,
The city neither; rather let me dwell
In this earth’s limits, where there never fell 760
‘Colchis’ on human ears.” That’s what she said.
Chalciope with maiden shame blushed red;
Though keen to speak, she dared not. Now would speech
Rise up to her tongue’s tip, now flit to reach
Her breast’s abyss. It often searched about
To leave her lovely lips, but nought came out.
At last she spoke with guile, for she was pressed
By the swift Loves: “Chalciope, my breast
Is trembling for my children, for I dread
My father speedily will have them dead 770
Along with all the strangers. Recently,
While sleeping for a brief while, did I see
Such dreadful dreams. May some god see they go
Unrealized and you from dire woe
About your sons are free.” Thus did she try
Her sister, hoping she would first supply
Succour. Her sister in oppressive pain
And fear was caught at what she said. Again
She spoke: “I, too, to set all this in motion,
Have come to you. Do you have any notion 780
That you may put to use? Swear now by Ge
And Ouranus that what I say may be
Our secret and you’ll work with me. I pray
By the gods, yourself, your parents, too, that they
Will not before your very eyes be fated
Unjustly to be foully extirpated,
Or else with my dear sons may I die, too,
Then afterwards from Hades come to you,
A vengeful Fury.” Thus she spoke. A tide
Of tears then coursed her cheeks. On either side 790
Her hands embraced both of her sister’s knees,
She laid her head upon her breast, then these
Two women shared their grief. The distant sound
Of women sorrowing was heard around
The halls. Medea answered in the sting
Of anguish: “Wretched maid, what can I bring
To ease what you have spoken of to me,
Your Furies and your dire calamity?
Would I could help your sons. The potent vow
Of Colchis you urged me to swear just now 800
Be witness, great Ouranos, Mother Ge,
You shall not, while there is some strength in me,
Lack my support, should all the gods comply
With your appeals.” She spoke, and in reply
Chalciope said: “Have you some device
To give the stranger who needs your advice,
Some ruse that he might win the tournament
And aid my sons? From him Argos was sent
To urge my help. I left him and came here.”
She spoke. Medea’s heart capered with cheer, 810
At once her fair cheeks flushed, here eyes aglow
Though wrapped in mist, and thus she answered: “O
Chalciope, as is to yours and you
Sweet and delightful, even so I’ll do.
May I no longer see daylight, not live
A moment longer if I ever give
A thought to ought before what will set free
You and your sons, who are my family,
My brothers, kinsmen, young comrades. It’s true
I am your sister, and your daughter, too, 820
Because, like them, you took me to your breast
When I was tiny, as Mother confessed
So often in the past. But hide this act
Of mine so that I may fulfil my pact
Without our parents’ knowledge. At daybreak
Some sorcery to charm the bulls I’ll take
To Hecate’s temple.” Then Chalciope,
That she might relay to her progeny
Her sister’s aid, back to her room repaired.
Medea, left alone, was greatly scared 830
And wracked with guilt that she had hatched a plan
Against her father’s will to help this man.
Night closed the earth. The sailors on the sea
Saw from their ships the stars of Helice
And of Orion, while a hankering
For sleep assailed those who were travelling
And the gatekeepers, and, her children gone
Across the Styx, a mother slumbered on;
No dogs barked in the town, there was no sound
Of men, and pitchy blackness all around 840
Was wrapped in silence. To Medea, though,
No sweet sleep came. The son of Aeson’s woe
Kept her awake: she feared the bulls’ fierce might
Through which his wretched doom was endless night
Upon the field of Ares, while her heart
Seethed fiercely as a beam of light may dart
Across a house, flung up from water splashed
From a cauldron or a bucket, swiftly flashed
And dancing here and there, a rapid whirl;
So whirled beneath the bosom of the girl 850
Her heart. Here eyes shed tears of sympathy
And in her soul there smouldered agony,
Round her fine nerves and neck where penetrate
The deepest pains, when never the Loves abate
From piercing shafts of torture. Now would she
Intend to give to him the sorcery
To charm the bulls, now would she change her mind
And plan herself to die, but then she’d find
Her thoughts had turned again – she would remain
Alive, not give the charms but bear the pain 860
In silence. Down she sat, still wavering,
And said: “Poor wretch, must all these troubles fling
Me back and forth? My heart’s in misery
On every side, and there’s no remedy.
A constant burn lives there. Would that a dart
From Artemis’ swift bow had pierced my heart
Before I’d seen that man, before that band
Of my own sister’s sons had reached the land
Of Greece. Some Fury or a god has brought
To us from thence this torture which has wrought 870
Full many a tear. In the contest may he die
If he must perish there. For how can I,
Without my parents knowing it, prepare
The charms? What story can I give them? Where
Is there a cunning, beneficial plan?
Should I give greeting when I see the man
Without his friends? Poor wretch, I can’t foresee
That I shall rest from misery, though he
Be dead: when he’s bereft of life, then woe
Will come; now shame, begone, begone, all glow. 880
Saved by my art, let Jason go away
And wander where he will, but on that day
When he’s the victor in the contest, I
Shall die, either by fixing way up high
A rope to stretch my neck and swallowing
Destructive drugs. Still then people will fling
Their taunts at me. All cities far away
Will shout my destiny. My name shall play
In Colchian women’s mouths and here and there
They’ll mock me foully – ‘that’s the maid whose care890
For a stranger was so great she died; that’s she
Who shamed her home and parents; lunacy
Destroyed her.’ What disgrace shall not adhere
To me? It would be better far right here,
Alas, to end my life this very night
Through some strange fate, for in this way I might
Avoid all taunts, thus never having wrought
Such dreadful shame.” She spoke, and then she brought
A box wherein drugs that were remedies
And those that kill were kept. Upon her knees 900
She settled it and wept. Incessantly
The tears bedewed her bosom; copiously
They flowed as there she sat and at her fate
Wailed bitterly. She longed to designate
A fatal drug to taste. The box’s string
She now untied, poor creature, hankering
To extricate the drug. But suddenly
Her heart was filled with dread anxiety
Concerning hateful Hades. Checking long
This urge, she sat while all around a throng 910
Of life’s sweet cares appeared. She contemplated
The joys the living share and meditated
Her joyous friends, as maids are apt to do;
The sun now seemed much sweeter in her view
Than heretofore – for every joy she yearned.
The box she now put down, her judgment turned
By Hera. Wavering no more, daybreak
She longed to look upon that she might take
The charms to Jason as she’d vowed to do
And meet him face-to-face. Longing to view 920
The dawn, she often locked the bolts. Dayspring
Now shed its welcome light that it might bring
The people to the streets. Argos then told
His brothers to remain there to unfold
Medea’s plans, though he himself turned round
And went back to the ship. Medea bound
Her golden hair, which fell in disarray
About her, when she first espied the day,
And bathed her tear-stained cheeks. Her skin now shone
With honeyed salve; a fine robe she put on, 930
Well clasped with brooches, and above her head
She placed a shining veil, and then she sped
Throughout the palace, heedless of the woes
That heaven sent to her and all of those
Which were to come. She called her maids to her –
The same age as herself, twelve maids there were,
Who in the fragrant chamber’s portico
Would sleep, for whom it was not yet to know
A man – and ordered them to speedily
Yoke to the chariot mules that she might be 940
To the fair temple of Hecate conveyed.
While they prepared the chariot, the maid
Took from the hollow box the talisman
They call Promethean (if any man
Should smear himself with it at night when he
Makes sacrifice, appeasing Hecate,
The only-begotten maid, there will be no
Wound made upon him by a bronze sword’s blow
Nor shall he flinch away from fire; that day
He’ll prove superior in every way, 950
In prowess and in might). From earth it grew,
First-born, when the ravening eagle, as it flew,
Upon the vales of Caucasus let fall
Tortured Prometheus’ blood-like ichor. All
Of one full cubit high it bloomed, in hue
Like the Corycian crocus, upon two
Stalks rising. But the root, within earth’s bed,
Resembled new-cut flesh. She harvested
Its liquid, like a mountain-oak’s dark juice,
And placed it in a Caspian shell for use 960
In her enchantment, after she had soaked
In seven endless rivers and invoked
Full seven times Brimo, youth-nurturing,
Queen of the dead, in Hades wandering,
In gloomy night, all clothed in black, and when
The Titanian root was cut, the dark earth then
Shook with a bellow; then Prometheus made
A heart-charged groan. She took the charm and laid
It in the fragrant band that circled round
Her lovely breast. She went outside and found 970
The speedy chariot which she mounted, two
Handmaids on either side; she drove straight through
The city, having seized the reins, one hand
Holding a well-made whip. The rest of the band
Of handmaids laid their hands upon the back
As they now ran over the ample track,
Their flimsy tunics all secured aloft
Above their snow-white knees. As by the soft
Parthenian waters or, bathed in the rills
Of River Amnisus, across the hills 980
Queen Artemis sped in her golden car
Behind her swift roes, coming from afar
That she may greet a tasty offering,
Her nymphs with her; some gathered at the spring
Of Amnisus, some gathered in the dales
And spring-packed peaks, as beasts kept low their tails
In fear at her approach, thus did they speed
Straight through the town. The people, taking heed
That they not look straight at the royal maid,
Made way for her. But when the streets, well-laid, 990
Of the city were behind them and the shrine
Beyond the plains was reached, down from the fine
Chariot she stepped at once impatiently
And to her maids said: “My iniquity
Is great: I was not heedful to restrain
From foreigners who wander our terrain.
The whole city is smitten with dismay;
None of the women who’d meet here each day
Is present. But since we alone are here,
Let us not spare to soothe our hearts with cheer 1000
By singing and let’s pluck fair flowers that grow
Upon the tender grass and straightway go
Back home. You’ll leave with many gifts that day
If you perform the thing for which I pray.
Argos has changed my mind, Chalciope
As well. But keep these words you hear from me
A secret lest my father hear what I
Have said. As for the stranger, who will try
To quell the bulls, I must receive, they state,
The gifts he brings to me and liberate 1010
Him from the fatal toil. This gladdened me.
I summoned him to come alone that we
Might portion out the gifts – mine he will bring
While I will give to him a different thing,
A deadly charm. When he comes, stand apart.”
She spoke, and this device pleased every heart.
Then was it that Argos rapidly drew
Jason from his companions when he knew
From his brothers that Medea now had gone
To Hecate’s holy shrine, then led him on 1020
Across the plain, and in their company
Went also Mopsus, good at augury,
Ampycus’ son, who counselled well all men
Who travelled. Never had there been till when
The bride of Zeus made Jason on that day
A man like him, to see or have parlay
With. His comrades themselves, as they all gazed
Upon the son of Aeson, were amazed
To look upon those graces as they shone
Out of the man, and as they journeyed on 1030
Mopsus rejoiced, already reckoning
The end. There was a poplar, burgeoning
With leaves, upon the footpath and near by
The temple, whither cawing crows would fly
To roost. One, on the branches way up high,
Now shook her feathers and was heard to cry
Hera’s counsels: “You do not understand,
Poor seer, what children know – in all the land
No maid will speak sweet nothings to a beau
When strangers are about. Non-prophet, go, 1040
You witless thing! No generosity
From Cypris or the gentle Loves shall be
Breathed on you.” Thus did Hera reprehend,
And Mopsos smiled a smile that she should send
A bird-borne message, so he said: “Repair
To Hecate’s temple, son of Aeson, where
You’ll find Medea. Thanks to Cypris, who
Will in the contest be a help to you
(As Phineus, son of Agenor, had foretold),
Medea will with kindliness enfold 1050
You to her heart. Argos and I will wait
Right here till you return. Propitiate
The maid, yourself alone, and cleverly
Win her to you.” He spoke sagaciously.
Both praised him then. Despite Medea’s song,
She did not shift her thoughts; never for long
Did such amusement bring her much delight.
Perplexed, she faltered, though, so that her sight
Upon her handmaids wavered, and she tried
To see the far-off path, turning aside 1060
Her cheek. Her heart was often quivering
When she thought that she heard the hurrying
Of feet or else the wind. But by and by
Into her eager purview, striding high,
He came, like Sirius coming from the sea,
Which rises fine and clear, though misery
That’s infinite it brings to flocks. Thus fair
To see walked Jason. But a love-sick care,
Along with him, came to her. Her heart’s core
Then tumbled from her breast and, furthermore, 1070
Her eyes were misted, while a reddening
Suffused her burning cheeks. She could not bring
Her knees up, for her feet seemed bound to stay
Upon the ground. Her handmaids moved away
From them. They stood there, silent, face to face,
Like oaks or lofty pines which stand in place
Upon the mountains when there is no hint
Of wind, in silence, but will, without stint,
Murmur when winds breathe on them. Similarly
Would they converse, moved by the agency 1080
Of Love’s sweet breath. And Jason knew a woe
Sent down from heaven troubled her, and so
He said to her: “Pray tell to me, fair maid,
Why, since I’m here alone, are you afraid?
I’m not an idle boaster, as some are,
Nor was I when in my own land afar.
Don’t be abashed before me to enquire
About whatever is your heart’s desire
Or speak your mind. But to this hallowed place,
Where sin cannot be sanctioned, face to face 1090
We have arrived, therefore you must feel free
To ask and speak; and do not hoodwink me
With honeyed words, for at the first you swore
To your sister that the drugs I hankered for
You would bestow on me. I beg of you
By Hecate, my children, Lord Zeus, too,
Who holds his hand out to those who implore
And strangers also, for my need is sore
And I am both of these. Without avail
From you, in this fell test I’ll not prevail. 1100
Later I’ll show you my appreciation,
For that befits men of another nation.
I’ll spread your name and make you glorious;
You’ll be ennobled by the rest of us,
Their wives and mothers, too, on our return,
Who now perhaps sit on the shores and yearn
In grief for us. Their painful misery
You may dispel. Once in antiquity
Minoan Ariadne loosed the bond
Of grim contests for Theseus in her fond 1110
Indulgence, daughter of Pasiphaë
(Her father was the sun god who held sway
Up in the sky). When Minos quelled his spleen,
She boarded ship and sailed with Theseus, keen
To leave her native-land. She was held dear
Even by the gods; each night one sees appear
A starry crown up high, which people call
The Crown of Ariadne; like a ball
It rolls along, a holy constellation
All night. And thus the gods’ appreciation 1120
Will you receive if only you’ll redeem
This mighty host of heroes, for you seem,
By your allure, in gentle courtesy
To shine.” He spoke, bestowing dignity
Upon her, and she cast her eyes aside
And sweetly smiled, her heart melted with pride
At his acclaim, then faced him, having no
Idea how she should start to speak, although
She yearned to blurt out all immediately.
She from her fragrant girdle willingly 1130
Pulled out the charm, which forthwith in delight
He took from her, and now her soul she might
Have drawn from out her breast in her elation
At his desire and made it a donation
To him. Such was Love’s honeyed flames that gleamed
From Jason’s golden head; her eyes now beamed,
So captivated was she. Through and through
Her heart grew melting-warm just like the dew
Upon the roses; by the bright sunrise
Made warm. Now would they shyly drop their eyes,1140
Now drink each other in, beneath each brow
With rapture smiling. Finally, somehow
She managed: “Take heed now, that I may frame
Aid for you. Since my father, when you came,
Gave you the dragon’s deadly teeth for you
To sow, wait till the night is split in two,
Wash in the endless stream, then move away
From all your comrades, dressed in the array
Of dark-blue clothes, and dig a rounded pit,
Thereafter slay a female lamb in it, 1150
Then sacrifice it whole, accumulate
A pyre above the pit and then placate
The only-begotten daughter of Perses
And pour the hive-stored industry of bees
From a cup, seek her goodwill and let no sound
Of steps behind you make you turn around,
Or barking dogs, in case you should undo
All rites; don’t go back duly to the crew.
When dawn appears, moisten the charm, undress
And smear yourself with oil. Then will prowess 1160
And mighty strength be yours – you’ll have to say
You’re like the gods, not men. Then you must spray
Your spear, your shield, your sword. The earthborn men
Will not transfix you with their spear-points then,
Nor the flame of deadly bulls, which cruelly
Darts quickly onward. But you shall not be
This way for long – just one day. Do not quail,
However, from the contest. More avail
I’ll tell you of. You must immediately,
After the bulls are yoked, your energy 1170
And strength apply to sow the stubborn land.
The Giants will be springing up to stand
Among the rows, the serpent’s teeth now sown
Upon the dusky clods. Throw a large stone,
Unseen, should you observe a massive pack
Arising from the field, for they’ll attack
Each other over it, as over food
Wild dogs will fight. Then join them in this mood.
From out of Aia you shall take the fleece
By this device away from here to Greece. 1180
Go where you please after you’ve left this place.”
She spoke and silently levelled her face
Towards the ground and wept exceedingly
And moistened her fair cheeks in misery,
For he’d sail far away and leave her there.
Taking his hand, she spoke in her despair,
For shame had left her eyes. “Should you reach home,
Remember me. Though far across the foam,
I will remember you. Pray tell to me,
Where is your home? Whither across the sea 1190
Shall you be bound? Will you perhaps go by
Wealthy Orchomenus? Or shall you ply
Your oars close to Aeaea Island? Pray,
Tell of the daughter of Pasiphaë,
The noble maid you named, who is related
To my father.” Deadly Love insinuated
Himself, at what she spoke and at her tears,
In him as well. He said: “If all my fears
Are groundless and I conquer, I can say
That I shall not forget you night and day, 1200
Should I get home to Greece, so long as there
Is not a viler toil that I must bear
At Aeëtes’ hands. But if it pleases you
To know where is my home, I’ll tell you true,
As I feel bound to do. There is a land
Where all around it lofty mountains stand,
Rich in both sheep and pasture: in that place
Deucalion, a hero full of grace,
Was fathered by Prometheus, progeny
Of Iapetus, who was the first to be 1210
A city-founder and who shrines created
To the immortals and who delegated
Himself as ruler. Those who dwell nearby
Have called this land Haemonia, where my
City, Iolcus, stands, and many more;
Aiaia Isle is unknown on that shore.
It’s said that Minyas, son of Aiolus,
Left there and built the town Orchomenus,
Which borders Thebes. What is the use to tell
To you these petty details? – where I dwell, 1220
Of Minos’ progeny, fair and far-famed
(You asked of her, who is for Minos named)
As for her sake Minos was well inclined
To Theseus, may your father turn his mind
Benignly to us.” Thus he spoke, allaying
Her fears with those soft words that he was saying.
Her heart was stirred with anguish unrelenting
As she addressed him, grievously lamenting:
“No doubt in Greece such covenants as these
Are recognized; however, Aeëtes 1230
Is not such as you claim Minos to be,
My husband and Pasiphaë’s progeny,
And I’m no Ariadne. Do not, then,
Discourse on hospitality but, when
You reach Iolcus, think of me, as I
Shall think of you: my parents I defy.
And may a rumour from afar reach me
Or an avian herald, if your memory
Of me has lapsed or else across the foam
May swift squalls snatch and take me to your home 1240
In Iolcus that before your eyes I might
Reproach you and remind you that your flight
Was due to my goodwill; may I then be
Your unexpected guest.” With these words she
Shed piteous tears. Then Jason said: “To hell
With empty blasts, that courier-bird as well,
My dear: your talk is vain. If to the land
Of Greece you travel, you will surely stand
In everyone’s respect and admiration;
They’ll treat you with a goddess’ veneration 1250
Because by virtue of your strategy
Their sons came home, and from calamity
Their brothers, kinsmen, stalwart spouses, too,
Were saved. Within the bridal chamber you
Shall then prepare our couch, and not a thing
Shall come between our love until the ring
Of Death’s grim knell.“ He spoke, at which, inside,
Her soul at what he’d spoken liquefied.
And yet she shuddered at the ruination
To come. Poor wretch! For her repudiation 1260
Of living in Hellas could not endure
For very long, for Hera made quite sure
Medea from Aeaea was to go
To holy Iolcus as a source of woe
To Pelias, leaving her native land.
Now, watching from a distance, her whole band
Of handmaids mutely grieved. She must now set
Off back to her mother’s home. She did not yet
Think of departure, for she filled with cheer
To look upon his beauty and to hear 1270
His winsome words. But Jason finally
With prudence said to her: “It’s time that we
Departed lest the setting of the sun
Should catch us unawares and then someone
From an alien land may know our strategy.
But we’ll return and meet.” To this degree
They tested out each other as they voiced
Soft words, then parted. Jason now rejoiced
As he returned to Argo hurriedly
To join his friends, while to the company 1280
Of her handmaids she went. They came to her
As one, but as they pressed her close, they were
Unseen by her, for high up in the air
Her soul was hovering. Right then and there
She mounted the swift car robotically;
With reins and well-made whip in each hand, she
Urged on the mules, which to the palace raced.
As she approached the city, she was faced
With questions from Chalciope, distressed
About her sons. Medea, though, oppressed 1290
With changing fancies, didn’t hear a word,
Nor would she have replied if she had heard.
She sat upon a low stool which was set
At the bed’s foot and, with eyes that were wet,
Laid her left hand upon her cheek and thought
Upon the evil deeds that would be wrought
Through her advice. When Jason had repaired
To where he’d left his comrades, he prepared
To go with them, telling them all he’d done,
Back to the other heroes. So, as one, 1300
They went to the ship. They hastened to enfold
Him in their arms and questioned him. He told
Them of the maid’s devices, having shown
The dreadful charm to them. But, all alone
Sat Idas, from the others separated,
Biting his wrath. The crew, though, were elated
And, when night’s darkness hindered them, they went
About their evening business. Jason sent
Two men at dawn to ask of Aeëtes
For the seed – Telamon, who loved hostilities, 1310
And Aethalides, Hermes’s famous son.
Nor did their journey prove a useless one,
For Lord Aeëtes gave them straightaway
The Aonian dragon’s fell teeth for the fray
(In Ogygian Thebes had Cadmos, following
Europe, killed that guardian of the spring
Of Ares). There he settled , for Apollo
Had given him a cow that he might follow,
By his prophetic word, and she had led
Him thither. From the jaws within its head 1320
The goddess tore them all, delivering
Them to Aeëtes as an offering
And to the slayer. After dissemination
On the Aonian plains, an earthborn nation
Aeëtes founded of those who stayed free
From death at Ares’ sowing. Readily
He gave them to take back to the Argo,
Thinking he’d not complete the task, although
He’d yoke the oxen. In the west the day
Was sinking through the dark earth far away 1330
Beyond the further Aethiopian height,
While all her steeds were being yoked by Night
And all the heroes now prepared to lie
On pallets by the hawsers. In the sky
The stars of gleaming Helice, the Bear,
Had set and under heaven’s girth the air
Was still, when Jason went immediately
To a bare place with all the secrecy
Of a thief and all his needs. He’d taken thought
Of everything. Now Argos came and brought 1340
A ewe and sheep’s milk, both of which he’d got
From Argo. But when Jason saw the spot,
Far from the haunt of men, a meadow still
And bright, to start with in the sacred rill
He washed his tender body solemnly,
Put on a dark robe which Hypsipyle
Of Lemnos gave to him, commemorating
For him full many an amatory mating.
Then, eighteen inches deep, he dug a pit
And then he heaped wood-billets over it. 1350
He cut the sheep’s throat and above the height
Of wood he duly stretched it, set alight
The billets, pouring on the offering
Mixed wine, asked Brimo Hecate to bring
Him triumph in the contests, and then drew
Away and, from the utmost depths, she knew
His voice, that dread goddess, and came to find
His sacrifice, while her dread serpents twined
Round the oak boughs; a multiplicity
Of torches were agleam, and one could see 1360
The hellhounds sharply barking all about;
The meadows trembled at her step; a shout
Rose from the nymphs who to each marsh resort
And every river, too, and who cavort
Round Amarantian Phasis. Now a dread
Seized Jason; even so, with forward tread,
He never looked back till he came upon
His comrades once again. Now early Dawn
Above the snowy Caucasos showed light.
Aeëtes then around his chest pulled tight 1370
His stiff breastplate which, having liquidated
Phlegraian Mimas, Ares had donated
To him, and then upon his head he fit
His golden helmet with the four plumes – it
Flashed like the rolling sun when up it slides
From Ocean. Now his shield of many hides
And grim, resistless spear he swung, whose blow
No hero could withstand, now there was no
Heracles with them – for he alone could stand
Its shock in war. Phaëthon was at hand, 1380
Holding the rapid steeds that he might go
Onto the well-built chariot: he did so
And grasped the reins. On the broad thoroughfare
He travelled from the city, out to where
The contest would be held, and, right along
With him, there went the multitudinous throng.
Just as Poseidon on his car would cross
The land to the Isthmian Games, or Tainarus,
Or Lerne’s water, or Hyantian
Onchestos’ grove or with those horses ran 1390
To Calaureia, or the promontory
Of Harmonia, or Garaistus’ grove – thus he,
Lord of Colchis, appeared. Jason submerged
The charm in water, as Medea urged,
Then both his shield and heavy spear he sprayed
With it, and then his sword. His friends displayed
Great strength in trying out his arms, but they
Could not contort even a little way
That spear: in their robust hands quite intact
And firm it stayed. Now it was wildly whacked 1400
By Idas with his mighty sword, for he
Was angry at them, and its apogee,
Like a hammer on an anvil, was repelled
And leapt back. Now the heroes happily yelled,
Their hopes enlarged, and then each body part
Did Jason spray, whereon into his heart
A terrible strength, dauntless, unspeakable.
Entered. On both sides were his hands filled full
Of vigour. As a war horse, hankering
For battle, beats the ground while whinnying 1410
And leaping, ears pricked up in haughtiness,
So Aeson’s son was filled with happiness
At his own strength; often high-leaping here
And there, he brandished in his hands his spear
Of ash and shield. You’d say a wintry glare
Kept scintillating through the gloomy air
Out of the clouds, when they bring on the rain
In blackest storm. His men would soon refrain
From the contest, but, on benches row on row,
They swiftly reached the Arian plains and lo! 1420
It stood beyond the town, as far away
As the turning-point is from the starting-bay
In chariot-races, when the family
Of some dead lord holds games for soldiery
And knights. They found Aeëtes and the rest
Of the Colchians – they had settled on the crest
Of Caucasus, he on the winding lip
Of the river. When the crew had moored the ship
With hawsers, Jason leapt down, on the way,
With both his spear and buckler, to the fray. 1430
At once he took his shining helmet, made
Of bronze, filled with sharp teeth, his bow displayed
Around his shoulders, stripped, now like the bold
Ares, now Phoebus with his sword of gold.
He looked across the grassland and espied
The bulls’ bronze yokes and, lying by their side,
The plough, unsectioned, rock-hard. He came near,
Then through the butt he fixed his mighty spear
And, doffing his helmet, this he reclined
Against it, then , with just his shield, to find 1440
The countless bull-tracks, he advanced. From some
Dark recess in the earth he saw them come,
Leaving their staunch, smoke-filled abode, and flame
Shot out of all four nostrils as they came.
The heroes quailed at this, but he withstood
Their onrush as a rocky sea-reef would
Withstand the waves by countless squalls propelled.
His shield before his body Jason held.
Both roaring bulls with mighty horns attacked
The man but made upon him no impact 1450
At all. As when the armourer’s bellows glow
All through the furnace and thereby bestow
Strength to the ravening flame, then blows no more,
And from it emanates a dreadful roar
As up it leaps, so, fiercely breathing flame,
The deadly heat like lightning as they came,
Those bulls roared out. The maid’s charms, though, protected
The man, who now with all his strength connected
With the horn of the right-hand bull and then he tugged
It nearer to the bronze-cast yoke and lugged 1460
The bull down to the ground. Then straightaway
He kicked the bronze foot. In the self-same way,
With just one blow, the other bull he downed.
His ample shield he threw down on the ground,
Then grasped their foreknees, striding here and there,
From side to side, and swiftly through the glare
Of flame he rushed. The king was startled by
The hero’s strength. Now the Tyndaridae –
For it had been predicted long ago –
Took up the yoke and gave it him to throw 1470
About them. Then a bronze-made pole he placed
Between them both and to the yoke he laced
It by its point. Leaving the fire, those two
Returned then to the ship. But Jason drew
His shield onto his back; he now put on
His sharp-toothed helm and took his spear, which none
Could shun, and, like a worker of the earth
With an Argive goad, he struck the bulls’ wide girth
And pricked them, well directing the plough’s blade
Of adamant. The animals now made 1480
A raging din and breathed fierce fire, their breath
Like howling winds which men, in fear of death
While sailing on the sea, shrink from, thereat
Their great sail furling. Not long after that
They yielded to the spear, the rugged land
Now broken up, cleft by the ploughshare and
The vigorous bulls. The clods groaned dreadfully,
Rent by the furrows, each a misery
To man, while he, far from him, cast the teeth
Incessantly among the clods beneath, 1490
And often turning round lest that the yield
Of earth-born men should rise up in the field
Against him, while the beasts, bronze-hoofed, went on
In toil. The third part of the day still shone
When weary workers call out for that sweet
Ox-loosing hour – now ploughing was complete,
The tireless ploughman finishing the field,
Though four plough-gates were measured in the yield.
He then unyoked the bulls which, at his shout,
Fled to the plain in fright. He turned about, 1500
Returning to the ship, while he could see
The earth-born men. His comrades heartily
Encouraged him. He then drew from the rill
His helmet and with water drank his fill,
Then bent his nimble knees, replenishing
His mighty heart with courage, quivering
With ardour, like a boar who hones his teeth
On hunters, while upon the ground beneath
Much foam flows from his angry mouth. Around
The entire field the earth-born men were found 1510
Already rising. Many a stout shield,
Two-pronged spear, shining helmet caused the field
Of dread Ares to bristle. Through the air
From earth up to Olympus flashed the glare.
As when the wintry clouds are put to flight
By hurricanes beneath the murky night
After a mighty snowfall, and a mass
Of shining stars throughout the gloom can pass,
So did they shine as they began to spring
Above the earth. But the wise counselling 1520
Of sly Medea Jason once again
Recalled: he seized a boulder from the plain,
Huge, round, the quoit of Ares, God of War:
This quoit could not be lifted up by four
Stalwart young men one inch. Then instantly
He cast it in their midst and secretly
Crouched, confident, beneath his shield. As when
The sea roars over jagged rocks, just then
The Colchians cried aloud; meanwhile the king
Was speechless at that hard rock’s hurtling. 1530
The Earthborn, like swift hounds with gnashing teeth,
Fell on and killed each other and, beneath
Their spears, like pines or oaks which by a squall
Are devastated, now began to fall.
Just as a fiery star leaps from the sky,
Blazing, a sign to mortals who descry
Throughout the gloomy air its vividness,
So did the son of Jason start to press
In on the earthborn men, his weapon free
Of its sheath, and, smiting indiscriminately, 1540
Mowed them all down, many face to the ground
Or on their side – there were some that were found
Upright up to their shoulders, others quite
Erect, while others en route to the fight
Were caught. As in a war for property,
A husbandman fears that his fields might be
Mowed down, he grasps his sickle in his hands
New-honed and curved, then darts across his lands
And cuts the unripe crops, with no delay
Until the sun should parch them, in this way 1550
He slashed the earthborn crop. Their blood was spilled
Upon those rows, as fountains’ grooves are filled
With water. So, some biting on the land
Headlong, some backward, some on side or hand,
They fell, seeming like monsters of the sea.
Many were hit before their feet were free
From the earth; as far as they rose in the air,
They bent towards the ground, reclining there
With sopping brows. When heavy rain is sent
By Zeus, thus new-grown orchard-shoots are bent, 1560
I think, down to the ground, pulled clean apart
From their roots, the toil of gardening men. Then heart-
Onerousness and deadly misery
Comes to the landlord/planter, similarly
A heavy misery assailed the king.
To the Colchians he went back, pondering
How swiftly he might strike them. Now the sun
Had set and Jason’s trials were all done.