Apollonius Rhodius: Argonautica
Book II
Translated by Christopher Kelk
© Copyright 2020 Christopher Kelk, All Rights Reserved.
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Here were the stables and the smallholding
Of Amycos, the Bebrycians’ arrogant king,
Whom the Bithynian nymph named Melie
Had to Poseidon borne - indeed she lay
With him, who was the most presumptuous
Of men for a decree contemptuous
For even strangers, who could not depart
Till they have tried the pugilistic art
Against him. Many locals had he slain.
He now approached the ship but did not deign 10
To ask who they were or what was their quest;
Instead immediately he thus addressed
Them all: “Give heed to what you all must know,
Seafarers. A newcomer may not go
From here until he’s tried his hand with me
In boxing, so pick from your company
Your finest man and put him to the test.
If you refuse, trampling on my behest,
It shall go hard with you.” Thus haughtily
He spoke; wild anger seized the company. 20
Now this struck Polydeuces most of all
And, standing forth, he said: “Contain your gall,
Whoever you are; your rules we will obey,
For I propose myself for this affray.”
Bluntly he spoke; the other, glowering,
Rolled up his eyes just as, when in a ring
The hunters hem him, a struck lion glares –
Though circled, for the crowd he has no cares
But on the man who, though he did not slay
But wounded him, fixates. Then straightaway 30
The son of Tyndareus his mantle doffed,
A closely-woven cloak and very soft,
Which, as a pledge of hospitality,
A maid from the Lemnos community
Had given him. The king threw down his dark
And closely-buckled mantle and the stark
Staff that he bore, cut from the olive-tree
And mountain-grown. On the locality
They looked and chose a satisfying space,
Then bade their comrades all take up their place 40
Apart from them and sit upon the shore.
In form and stature they could not be more
Dissimilar. Of baleful Typhoeus
One seemed to be the child prodigious
And of Gaia herself, such as in spleen
At Zeus she bore before; one had the sheen
Of heavenly stars whose brightest beams appear
At night-time just as eventide is near.
So, with his downy cheeks and glittering eyes,
Appeared the son of Zeus, yet still the size 50
Of his strength was a beast’s: he verified
His hands could, as before, be well applied
To boxing, not heavy from handling
The oars. Amycos, though, did no such thing.
Silent, he stood apart and fixed his eyes
Upon his foe; he felt his spirit rise
While hungering to scatter from his frame
His life’s blood. In between them then there came
His servant Lycoreus who placed beside
Them both four thongs of dry, raw leather-hide. 60
And then the king addressed them haughtily:
“If these you want, I’ll give them willingly
Lest you should blame me. Place them both about
Your hands so you may say without a doubt
To others how adept I am at slashing
The desiccated ox-hides and at splashing
Men’s cheeks with blood.” He spoke; no barbed reply
Was made, just a swift smile; with what lay by
His feet he clothed himself quite silently.
Great Talaos, Bias’s progeny, 70
And Castor quickly came to fasten tight
The thongs while urging him to show his might.
Aretos and Oryntos did likewise
And bound the king but did not realize,
Poor fools, that they would never do this more.
Standing apart, equipped, they held before
Themselves their heavy hands and set to fight
Each other: as a violent billow might
Attack a swift ship, though for a little she
Escapes it through pilot ability, 80
While it spurts up the sides, thus did the king
Go after Polydeuces, essaying
To daunt him and not give him any rest,
But he, with not a scratch and being blessed
With skill, fought off his charge. The brutal sweep
Of fists he noted so that he might keep
An eye on where he showed his skills and where
His weaknesses, so, ever standing there,
He parried blow for blow. As woodsmen strike
A vessel’s beams that they may meet each spike, 90
Each blow resounding, cheeks and jawbones clashed
On either side, and noisily teeth gnashed,
Nor did they cease till laboured gasps won out.
Standing apart a little, every gout
Of ample sweat they wiped away as they
Tried hard to catch their breath. Then straightaway
They re-engaged, as bulls in rivalry
Fight wildly for a heifer. Suddenly
Amycos, stretching himself, rose on tiptoe,
As one who slays an ox, and on his foe 100
Brought down his heavy hands. He turned his head
And took the blow on his shoulders instead,
A minor one; he then advanced his knee
Beyond that of the king and fleetingly
Smote him above the ear, thus shattering
The bones, and he fell to his knees. A ring
Of cheers went up among the Argo’s men.
His life’s blood issued from him there and then.
His folk did not neglect him as they caught
Up in their hands rough clubs and spears and sought 110
Polydeuces. His companions went up to
These men as they their pointed daggers drew.
One of them Castor struck upon the head
As he approached him and it plummeted
To earth each side of him, for it was slashed
In two. Huge Itymoneus and Minas crashed
In the dust – one Polydeuces speedily
Kicked in the chest, the other one, while he
Was running straight at him, with his right hand
Struck his left eyebrow, took the lid off and 120
Exposed the eyeball. Now the insolent
Oreides, the king’s henchman, made a rent
In Bias’ son Talaos’ side, although
He was not slain but merely grazed below
The belt – the bronze did not disturb his skin.
Then with his seasoned club there waded in
Arctos, beating the brave progeny
Of Eurytos, Iphitos, his destiny
Of death still unfulfilled - soon Klytios
Would pierce him with his sword. Bold Ancaios, 130
Lycourgos’ son, large, dark axe in one hand,
A bear’s hide in the other, took a stand
Against the foe and leapt into the fray
Impatiently with, joining the melée,
The Aiacidai and, starting out as well,
The warlike Jason. As grey wolves, pell-mell,
On winter days rush down and terrorize
A flock of countless sheep, beyond the eyes
Of the keen-scented hounds and those who keep
An eye on them, determining which sheep 140
To take first, often glancing all around;
The huddled sheep are falling on the ground
Over each other; thus the violent
Heroes now terrorized the insolent
Bebrycians and, just as those men who tend
A flock and those who keep a hive will send
Thick smoke into a rock, thus dislodging
A bee-swarm, still with buzz-like murmuring
Packed tightly – they at last, quite stupefied
By all that smoke, unable to abide 150
For longer, flee the rock – thus, staying there
No longer, through Bebrycia everywhere,
Announcing their king’s death. They did not know,
Poor fools, that there was further unseen woe:
For Lycos and the Mariandyni
Were ravaging the whole vicinity –
Each vineyard and each village – now the king
Was gone, for there was constant squabbling
In that iron-bearing land, so now these men
Destroyed each farm and stable while, again, 160
Hither and yon the heroes drove away
Their countless sheep. One to his friends would say:
“Pray tell me, what would these faint-hearted men
Have done if a god had brought to us again
Our Herakles? With him here, I suppose,
There would have been no test of trading blows
With fists. No, when he came to us to tell
His rules, those rules and his hauteur as well
Would quite have fled his mind when Herakles
Had plied his club. Instead we sailed the seas 170
And left him callously. We all shall see
Our fatal folly now he’s gone.” Thus he
Addressed them. But by Zeus’ will everything
Was fulfilled. They remained that night to bring
Assistance to the wounded. Then they made
Their sacrifices to the gods and laid
A goodly spread. No slumber overcame
One man beside the sacrificial flame
And bowl. They interwove their golden hair
With laurel growing on the shoreline, where 180
Their hawsers had been bound; melodiously
They sweetly sang a hymn in harmony
With Orpheus’s lute, the windless shore
Enchanted by their singing, which was for
Polydeuces. Now the sun from far away
Shone on the dewy hills; to greet the day
It roused the shepherds, and they now unmoored
Their cables from the bay tree while on board
They stored essentials. Now they steered straight through
The eddying Bosporus while fair winds blew. 190
And then a breaker they could see appear
Assailant-like before them, mountain-sheer,
Ever upheaved above the clouds. You’d say
That death was certain, for it hung midway
Above the ship, cloud-like and angrily,
And yet it settles in tranquillity
When meeting a good helmsman. They were taken
From harm by Tiphys’ skill, rescued but shaken.
Next day they roped their hawsers in the land
Of Bithynia, where Phineus lived, on the strand, 200
Agenor’s son, who in his misery
Bore more woes, for the gift of prophecy
From Phoebus, than did other men. He cared
For Zeus himself no whit, for he declared
His holy will to all unerringly.
So Zeus a long-drawn-out senility
Afforded him and took the pleasing light
From his eyes and wouldn’t let him take delight
In boundless food the neighbours, as they sought
Predictions, brought to them, for Harpies caught 210
It in their jaws and wrenched it all away
Out of his hands and mouth, so quickly they
Rushed at him through the clouds – now not a thing,
No, just a scrap so that his suffering
Might carry on, they left him – and they spewed
A loathsome stench. None dared to bring him food
Or even stand far off, so foul a smell
Those kitchen-scraps gave off. But he knew well
The voices and the tramping of the crew
Who would ensure his feasting would ensue 220
(So Zeus allowed): he rose from where he lay,
Just like a lifeless dream, and made his way
Towards the door on withered feet while bent
Over his staff and feeling, as he went,
The walls; his body trembled, frail and old;
His skin, quite parched with dirt, was, truth be told,
The only thing that held his bones. He left
The house and on the threshold sat, bereft
Of vigour. A dark stupor wrapped around
Him and it seemed to him the very ground 230
Wavered beneath him. Speechless, there he lay,
Both weak and in a coma, and, when they
Saw him, they gathered round, amazed. But he
With laboured breath pronounced this prophecy:
“Hear, mighty Greeks, if it be truly you,
Whom by a ruthless king’s decree pursue,
Upon the Argo under Jason’s sway,
The fleece. It’s you indeed. My mind still may
Know every prophecy. I thank you, king,
Son of Leto, though plunged in suffering. 240
Zeus, god of suppliants, to sinful folk
The sternest punisher, you I invoke
For Phoebus and for Hera, through whose aid
Especially you come; help me evade
This torment in my misery. Don’t go
And mercilessly leave me full of woe
Like this. Upon my eyes a Fury set
Her foot that I might pay an endless debt
Through many weary years; not only thus:
There hangs above me the most onerous 250
Of woes: the Harpies snatch my food from me
As, from some fatal place no-one can see,
They swoop down. I am helpless. With more ease
Might I escape my very thoughts than these,
When I crave sustenance, so rapidly
They fly, and if they have some scraps for me,
The mouldy smell is just too great to bear:
Though adamantine-hearted, none would dare
Come close. Force, sharp and hard to tolerate,
However, makes me stay and satiate 260
My wretched belly. They, the gods decree,
Shall be restricted by the progeny
Of Boreas. No foreign aid are these
If I am Phineus, once in prophecies
And riches famed, Agenor’s son; when Thrace
Was in my governance, I brought, to grace
My home, their sister Cleopatra.” So
Spoke out Agenor’s son, and each hero
Was filled with formidable misery,
The sons of Boreas especially. 270
Then when they had their tears all brushed aside,
They came to him and now Zetes replied,
Taking the wretched old man’s hand in his:
“Unhappy one, I do not think there is
A man more cursed. Why is such misery
Laid on you? Did some fell insanity
Within you cause you, by your readiness
In everything prophetic, to transgress
Against the gods? Did this stir their great spleen?
Our hearts, though, are dismayed, though we are keen 280
To aid you, if a god to both of us
Indeed bestows this due, for obvious
To men are their reproofs. For you we care,
But we won’t stop the Harpies till you swear
The pantheon of the gods won’t take away
Their favour. “ That is what he had to say.
The old man opened eyes that could not see
And raised them, saying, “Silence. Child, let be
Such thoughts. Let Phoebus, who in kindliness
Taught me to prophesy, be my witness; 290
Be witness, also, the portentous doom
That holds me in its grip, the murky gloom
About my eyes, the gods below – may I
Receive their curse if I should perjured die –
No anger from the gods shall come to you
Because you aid me.” With their oath those two
Now yearned to give him help. The younger men
Made ready for the old man there and then
A dinner, for the Harpies a last prey.
Close by they stood that with their swords they may 300
Pierce them in flight. The old man touched the fare
And instantly the Harpies through the air
Came flying, like harsh squalls or lightning,
And through the clouds with sudden clamouring
They yelled their lust for food. When they’d been spied,
The heroes shouted loud on every side;
But, gulping all, the Harpies crossed the sea
In flight, but an oppressive pungency
Remained. The Boreads, with daggers drawn,
Pursued them: Zeus had given quenchless brawn 310
To them, for they could not have held their quest
Without Zeus, for in swiftness they could best
The West Wind’s squalls whenever they came or went.
Like hounds that are proficient in the scent
In wooded valleys or sniff out the deer
Or hornèd goats as onward they career
And, straining from behind a little way,
They gnash their teeth in irritation, they,
Zetes and Calaïs, so close behind,
In vain their fingertips they’d always find 320
Just scraping at the Harpies, who’d have rent
Them quite apart against the gods’ consent
When on the Floating Isles they met, had there
Not been swift Iris watching: through the air
She sped from heaven, checking them. Thus she
Spoke up: “O Boreads, illicitly
You chase with swords the Harpies, for they are
Great Zeus’s hounds. I’ll give you oaths to bar
Them from your path,” and, saying this, she swore
By Styx’s waters – there is nothing more 330
Awful and dread to all the gods – that they
To Phineus’ house would never make their way
Again (thus Fate decreed), and to this oath
They yielded, turning from the ships, the both
Of them. Therefore this place has come to be
‘The Turning Isles’, though mortals previously
Called them ‘The Floating Isles’. The Harpies and
Iris then parted: in the Cretan land
They entered their den; to Olympus she
Went flying up with great velocity. 340
The chiefs then washed the old man’s squalid flesh
So thoroughly that it now shone afresh,
Then sacrificing sheep which carefully
They chose and was the looted property
Of Amycos. They cooked a mammoth feast
Within the hall, then dined; not with the least
Gusto did Phineus eat; his heart was glad
As in a dream. When everyone had had
Sufficient food and drink, they watched all night
For both the Boreads. By firelight 350
The old man sat among them, telling how
Their quest would be concluded. “Listen now:
You may not know all things undoubtedly,
But what the gods allow you’ll hear from me.
From first to last I foretold Zeus’s mind –
A foolish act, for he would give mankind
Unfinished details, that they still will need
Some knowledge of his will. You first will heed
The twin Kyanean Rocks upon the sea
Once you have left me on your odyssey: 360
No-one has ever made escape betwixt
Those two, for they are not rootedly fixed
But at one point they clatter constantly
Together while, above them violently,
Salt-water spumes and on the rigid beach
Comes crashing down. Attend to what I teach
If you respect the gods and wisely go
Your way nor bring about your overthrow
Through foolishness and hold no certainty
In youth’s advice. When you are back at sea, 370
Firstly release a dove, and should it dart
Safe through those rocks, then afterwards depart
No longer from your path; row sturdily
And with your oars drive through the narrow sea,
For safety’s light is not so much in prayer
As in your strength, and therefore have no care
For aught but labouring with might and main.
Till then, however, I will not restrain
Your prayers. But if in flight between those two
She dies, then turn around – much better you 380
Yield to the gods. Those two rocks would entail
Your doom though flint the ship in which you sail.
Unlucky ones, my warnings do not dare
Transgress, even though you think the gods might bear
A thricefold hatred to me, or yet more
Than that. Don’t dare to sail beyond the shore
In spite of my predictions. All shall be
As it shall be. Should you unscathedly
Avoid the clashing rocks and sail into
The Black Sea, then Bithynia see that you 390
Keep on your right until you skirt around
Swift Rhodas and the black beach, finding ground
In Thynias Island’s port. Some little space
Sail back and moor your vessel where the race
Of Mariandyni abide. Close by
A way to Hades lies, while up on high
Acherusia’s headland stretches. Far below
The waters of the eddying Acheron flow
Even through the headland through a huge ravine.
Nearby, as you sail on, there will be seen 400
The many Paphlagonian hills – their king
First was Enetian Pelops, from whom spring
Those folk, they boast, while opposite the bear
Called Helice there is a headland where
Approach is steep on every side. They call
It Carambis: there is a constant squall
Of north winds splitting round her head. Thus she
Looms high above and turns towards the sea.
Beyond lies broad Aigialos. Past here
Upon a jutting piece of coast appear 410
The streams of River Halys, on a shore
That bulges out, which, with a dreadful roar,
Spurts forth; then Iris, nearby rippling,
Though smaller, rolls to sea, white-eddying;
And then projecting forward from the land,
There stands a promontory, massive and grand;
Then Thermodon into a quiet bay
At Themiscyra’s headland makes its way
From thrusting through a sweeping countryside.
Here is Doias’s plain; close by abide 420
The Amazons in their three conurbations,
And then the wretchedest of all the nations,
The Chalybes, who ply a rugged soil,
Unyielding, working iron with much toil.
The Tibareni, rich in flocks, dwell near
Beyond the Genetaian headland, dear
To Zeus the god of hospitality.
The next in order, the Mossynici,
Dwell in the forests and declivities –
Their homes they built from towers made of trees, 430
Which they call Mossyni: their soubriquet
Derives from them. When you have made your way
Beyond them, moor your ship on a smooth isle
When you have driven off, with endless guile,
The birds of prey, which are a multitude
And dwell upon this island solitude.
It’s here Otrere and Antiope,
The Amazon queens, once built a sanctuary
Of stone to Ares when they marched away
To war. With kindly heart I bid you stay 440
Since you will win from the astringent sea
Unutterable aid. Why must I be
A sinner once again since I forecast
Your total venture? On the mainland past
This island and across from it reside
The Philyri; the Macrones abide
Above them, while, beyond, the massive race
Of Becheiri is found. The next in place
Are the Sapeiri, following hard fast
The Byzeres; beyond these tribes, at last 450
The warlike Colchi live. Your odyssey
Keep up until you reach the innermost sea.
There on the Cytaiian mainland, far away
From the mountains and the plateau of Circe
The eddying Phasis casts its ample flow
Into the sea; into that river go:
Cytaiian Aeetes’ towers you will see
And Ares’ shady grove: on an oak-tree
And guarded by a snake, dire to the sight,
Eyes darting, is the spread-out fleece: nor night 460
Nor day does sleep his wicked eyelids quell.”
He spoke, and fear upon his listeners fell.
For some time they were hit with speechlessness
But finally, dismayed by their distress,
The hero, son of Aeson, spoke: “You now
Have reached our journey’s end and made your vow,
Old man, which we believe will take us through
The dreaded rocks to Pontus. But from you
I’d gladly learn if, having shunned them, we
May then return to Greece. How can it be, 470
How could I sail so far, unqualified,
My comrades likewise? On the utmost side
Of earth lies Aian Colchos.” In reply
The old man said: “Child, when you have passed by
Those dreaded rocks, fear not. Another track
A god will show you. Thence you will not lack
For guides. Take thought, friends, of the cunning aid
Of Aphrodite. Your hopes must be laid
On her in your endeavours. Ask no more
Of me.” Thus spoke the son of Agenor. 480
The twins of Thracian Boreas through the air
Came darting down, their swift feet brought to bear
Upon the threshold. Then from every seat
Each hero, seeing them, got to his feet.
Zetes, still breathing hard from his travail,
Then told the eager throng how long a trail
They made to rout the Harpies far and wide,
How Iris banned their slaughter and supplied
Them, in her grace, with oaths, and how in fear
The Harpies crept away to disappear 490
Into their massive cave within the peak
Of Dicte. Then, when they had heard him speak
These words, the heroes all were jubilant,
And Phineus, too. Then a benevolent
Jason said: “Phineus, indubitably
A god grieved for your great adversity
And sent us from afar so that you might
Be helped by Boreas’s sons. If sight
Were given you again, a joy so vast
As if I were returning home at last 500
Would girdle me.” He spoke, but with an air
Of sadness, Phineus said: “It’s past repair,
Jason; there’ll be no cure. Deprived of sight,
My eyes are blasted. Would a god may smite
Me now instead with death that I may be
In perfect bliss.” In suchlike colloquy
They traded words, and early morning light
Soon broke upon their converse, shining bright.
The neighbours, who beforehand had amassed
Each day to give a share of their repast 510
To Phineus, gathered now. To each one he,
Indifferent to any penury,
Gave forecasts freely, with each revelation
Releasing many from their tribulation:
For this they came to him and lavished care
Upon him. With them came a friend most rare
To him - Paraibios. He was delighted
To see them there, for long he had recited
The story of the Greek heroic band
Destined to moor their ship in Thynian land 520
As they sailed on to reach Aeëtes’ port,
Who by the will of Zeus would also thwart
The Harpies’ rout. He sent upon their way
The rest with kind, wise words but urged to stay
Only Paraibios with those who led
The expedition. And to him he said
That he should bring to him immediately
The choicest sheep and then, as soon as he
Had left the hall, he graciously addressed
The gathered oarsmen: “It must be confessed, 530
My friends, not all men are imperious
Or lacking kindness. This man came to us,
Though loyal, keen to know his destiny:
Despite his constant toil, his penury
Chafed at him: more abject from day to day,
He saw no rest. But he was doomed to pay
The price of his own father’s wicked deed:
Alone, while felling trees, he failed to heed
A hamadryad’s plea. For clamorously,
In grief, she begged him not to fell a tree 540
Coeval with herself (a mighty span
Of years she had lived in it). Foolish man,
He cut it down with youthful loftiness.
The nymph ordained perpetual distress
Both to the man and to his progeny.
At his arrival, that iniquity
I recognized and bade him build to her
An altar and request that she defer
Forevermore his father’s destiny.
Ever since he dodged this god-sent misery, 550
He’s not forgotten me, for in regard
He holds me. Now it goes extremely hard
To send him off, unwilling, since he’s so
Desirous to be with me in my woe.”
Thus spoke Agenor’s son. Immediately
His friend came back with two sheep from the lea.
The Boreads and Jason then arose
At the old man’s command and, at the close
Of day, called on the god of divination,
Phoebus, and at the hearth made an oblation. 560
The young ones made a satisfying spread:
When it was eaten, some men made their bed
Alongside Argo’s cables, others lay
Within the house in crowds. At break of day
Rushed periodic winds, over the land
Evenly blowing by Zeus’s command.
Cyrene, it is said, would formerly
Tend to her sheep by the Peneian lea.
For maidenhood and an unspotted bed
Were dear to her. However, as she fed 570
Her flock beside the river, far away
From her Haimonia she was one day
Snatched by Phoebus Apollo and amid
The nymphs who haunt the earth deposited
(By high Myrtosios their habitation
They had established in the Libyan nation).
To Phoebus she bore Aristaeus there
(Although her corn-rich folk gave her a pair
Of names, Hunter and Shepherd: tenderness
Had caused Apollo to make timelessness 580
And hunting her especial care: he sent
The boy to Chiron’s cave that time be spent
In nurturing his youth, and then when he
Was grown, the Muses taught him prophecy
And healing, giving him a bride, and made
Him keeper of the flocks of sheep that they’d
Been tending on Adamas’s plateau
In Phthia round the Apidanos’ flow,
That holy river, and the well-protected
Othys. Minos’s islands were reflected 590
By Sirius and scorched – no remedy
Was there for those in the vicinity
Until, at last, at Hecate’s command,
They called for him to banish from the land
This plague. His father bade him go away
From Phthia: in Ceos he made his stay
And gathered the Parrasians (of the strain
Of Lycaon), to Zeus the god of rain
Built a large altar and established rites
Of sacrifice to Sirius in the heights 600
As well as Zeus, who sent to cool the land
For his sake periodic winds which spanned
Twice twenty days. In Ceos now as well
Before the Dog-Star’s rising, priests, they tell,
Make sacrifice. The chiefs were urged to stay:
The Thynians, sending great gifts every day,
Paid Phineus honour. To the twelve gods they made
An altar on the shore and on it laid
Their offerings. They embarked on swift Argo,
Remembering, as they set out to row, 610
A timid dove. It trembled with dismay
As Euphemos grasped it. They then made away,
Loosing the double hawsers, not unmarked
By Queen Athene, who with speed embarked
Upon an airy cloud, which rapidly,
Despite her strength, would carry her. For she
Sped seawards to the oarsmen’s service. Just
As one leaves home, smitten with wanderlust,
As hardy souls as we roam far and near,
No land too far and every pathway clear, 620
He seems to see his home, his odyssey
Over both sea and land quite plain to see,
Ardently thinking, striving here and there
To find it, so, posthaste, upon the bare
And inhospitable Thynian strand,
The progeny of Zeus now came to land.
When they came to the narrow, winding sound,
Hemmed with harsh cliffs, there eddied all around
The ship a surge from underneath the sea
As they advanced with great anxiety, 630
The sound of clashing rocks a never-ending
Hubbub upon their ears, the sea-cliffs sending
Out roars, then Euphemos began to climb
The prow, grasping the dove; at the same time,
At Tiphys’, son of Hagnias, decree,
They helped by rowing, in their certainty
Of their own strength, so they might drive straight past
The rocks. Then straightaway they saw at last
The rocks all gaping open after they
Had rowed around the winding passageway. 640
Their hearts melted; Euphemos sent the dove
A-winging; then all cast their eyes above,
Raising their heads, as through them all she soared:
The rocks, clashing together, loudly roared.
A deal of brine spumed up, just like a cloud,
The sea let forth a noise, dreadful and loud,
The mighty heavens crashed, within the spume
That surged beneath the harsh crags came a boom
From hollow caves, and in the air there hissed
Above the cliffs the bubbling wave’s white mist. 650
Then round the ship the deluge pressed. Above
The rocks clipped the tail-feathers of the dove
As she flew back unscathed. A mighty shout
Came from the oarsmen. Tiphys now yelled out
For strenuous rowing, for the rocks again
Were opening. Now trembling racked the men
As on they rowed until the very tide,
Receding, raised them up and back inside
The rocks. Now all were struck with extreme fear:
Up high inexorable death was near. 660
The broad Black Sea was seen from left to right,
But unforeseen there rose up in their sight
A mighty curving wave resembling
A sheer hilltop, and when they saw this thing
They bowed their heads – it seemed about to flip
Upon them and spread over the whole ship.
But Tiphys swiftly slackened her as she
Was fretting in her oars, and utterly
It rolled beneath her keel: from stern to prow
It drew her up far from the rocks, and now 670
It bore her high. Through the entire crew
Euphemos went and yelled that they must do
Their utmost at the oars, so with a roar
They struck the waves. But what ground every oar
Achieved was in reversing halved. Each blade
Was bent just like a bow as each man made
Heroic effort. Then immediately
A vaulted wave surged at the ship, and she,
Cylinder-like, rode on that violent sweep,
Rushed down and forward through the hollow deep. 680
She was contained in the Symplegades
By this vortex. They made a noise like bees
And shook. The Argo’s timbers had been jammed.
And then with her left hand Athene rammed
The stout rocks far apart and with her right
Pushed Argo through the middle. In her flight
She was a winged arrow. All the same,
The rocks, forever clashing as she came,
Grazed off the top of Argo’s ornament.
Athene rose and to Olympus went, 690
Once they’d escaped unscathed. The rocks, however,
Were quickly rooted in one spot forever
By heavenly decree that, sailing by,
A man might live. At last they breathed a sigh,
No longer chilled with fear, as on the sea
And sky spread out in their immensity
They looked. They felt they had escaped from Hell.
Tiphys spoke first: “I hope this ugly spell
Is now behind us, ship and all. Alone
Athene, since her heavenly strength was blown 700
Upon our ship as Argos riveted her
With nails, must now be called our saviour.
She can’t be caught. Jason, no longer dread
Your king’s command - a holy one has led
Us through the rocks. Phineus said there’s no doubt
That all our labours will from hereon out
Be easy.” Thus he spoke and through the sea
Drove Argo past Bithynian land. But he
Heard Jason answer him with gentleness:
“Phineus, why comfort me in my distress? 710
I sinned and acted unforgivably.
I should, when Pelias gave me his decree,
Have flatly turned it down, though doomed to die
Deplorably, hacked limb from limb. Here I,
Beset with worries too extreme to bear
And copious fears, hate each dread thoroughfare
We must endure on shipboard, dread, also,
The mainland, hostile everywhere you go.
I’ve suffered sleepless nights since, for my sake,
You gathered for the first time, while I rake 720
Over everything. You speak with easiness,
Concerned for self alone, yet all my stress
Is for this man and for all of my men
Lest I do not deliver you again
To Greece.” Thus did he test his chiefs, and they
Yelled cheerfully, succeeding to allay
His fears. He then addressed them openly:
“My friends, the courage that you show to me
Shall swell my confidence. Be I conveyed
To Hades’ depths, I will not be afraid 730
Since, faced with dreadful terrors, you stay true
And steadfast. Since we now have sailed straight through
And circumvented the Symplegades,
I think no bogeyman will rival these
As long as we attend the admonition
Of Phineus as upon our expedition
We go.” He spoke, and they immediately
Broke off all talk, and constant industry
Was plied in rowing. Then they passed beside
Colone’s crag and the swift-flowing tide 740
Of Rhebas and then the Black Promontory
Nearby, when where the Phyllis meets the sea
And where into his dwelling Dipsacos
Received, when he had fled Orchomenos,
The son of Adamas who with his ram
Arrived; a meadow-nymph had been his dam.
Devoid of insolence, he willingly
Lived with his mother, feeding by the sea
His flock nearby his father’s stream. They spied
His shrine while swiftly sailing alongside, 750
The broad shores of the river, and the plain,
And deep Calpe, but then with might and main
They laboured at their oars all day and night
When everything was calm. As oxen fight
To cleave the land while down their neck and sides
A constant source of perspiration slides,
And underneath the yoke they glance around,
Their fiery breath making a roaring sound
Nonstop, and with their hooves in weariness
They delve all day, the heroes did no less 760
Lean on their oars. Before the holy light
Yet when it was no longer wholly night,
Some little specks now flickering through the dark,
Which risers call the dawn, they moored their barque
On Thynia, an uninhabited
Island, and disembarked with heavy tread.
The son of Leto came into their view,
Who’d come from Lycia and was passing through
En route to the great Hyperborean nation.
His clustered locks hung in proliferation 770
About his cheeks. He held in his left hand
A silver bow; meanwhile a quiver spanned
His back and shoulders. Underneath his feet
The island shook. The waves crashed as they beat
The shoreline. Nonplussed incredulity
Struck them and none had the temerity
To look him in the eye. They all stood there
With eyes cast down. But he flew through the air
Across the sea. Then Orpheus, when he’d gone,
Said to his chieftains: “Let us, every one, 780
Give nomination to this holy isle
Of “Dawn’s Apollo” since at Dawn’s first smile
He showed himself to us. We’ll do what we
Must do and build a shrine next to the sea.
But if at last we make a safe return
To our Haemonia, we’ll surely burn
A sacrifice of goats. I advocate
That you with wine and meat propitiate
The god right now. Show your benignity,
O lord.” He spoke, and they immediately 790
With pebbles built an altar. Then around
The isle they roamed to see if could be found
Some deer or else some goats which often feed
Deep in the wood, and then that very need
Was granted them by Leto’s son. They greased
The thighs in fat and piously they placed
Them on the holy altar’s holy flame
While calling out Apollo’s holy name,
‘Eoios’. Around the offering
They organized a spacious dancing-ring 800
And sang, “All praise, healing divinity.”
Along with them a clear-toned melody
Was started up on the Bistonian lyre
By good Orpheus (Oiagros was his sire) -
How once beneath Parnassus Mountain he
Slew with his bow the monster Delphyne
While yet a beardless youth and while his hair
Was still unshorn. O grant our fortune fair!
Be unshorn ever, lord! Lord, may you be
(For it is right) secure from injury! 810
Your tresses are by Leto’s kindly hand
Alone caressed. The Corykaean band
Of nymphs, Pleistos’s daughters, words of cheer
Addressed to you while shouting, “Healer, hear!”
Thus came this lovely Phoebus-hymn to be.
After this music and terpsichory,
They carried out an undefiled libation
And made a promise of cooperation
Between them for eternity, while they
All touched the sacrifice. Even today 820
There lies the shrine of joyful Harmony
Which they provided by their industry
For their great goddess. Then on the third day
They left the precipitous island, on their way
Under the strong west wind. Then on they sped
Beyond where the Sangarios River fed
Into the sea, beyond the fertile land
The Mariandyni inhabit, and
The Lycian streams, Anthemoseisis Lake…
The wind they sailed before made all thing shake - 830
The ropes, the tackle – then during the night
The wind calmed and, at dawn, with great delight
They reached the harbour set beneath the crest
Of Acherousia. She makes her nest
Amid steep slopes and looks upon the sea
Of Bithynia; sea-smoothed rocks appear to be
Deep-rooted there; the water round about
Rolls, loudly roaring; at the peak there sprout
Huge plane-trees, while from it, stretching away
Towards the mainland, deep-indented, lay 840
A hollow glen where, overarched with wood
And piles of rocks, a cave of Hades stood,
Whence chilly blasts of vapour endlessly
Would emanate from their foul cavity,
Congealing white frost which the noonday sun
Would melt away. The noise was never done
On this grim peak. Beneath the roaring sea
The groans continued, while the greenery
Shook from the blasts within. The Acheron
Emerged from them, disgorging straight upon 850
The Eastern sea down from the mountain’s peak,
Within a hollow gorge. About to seek
A home among the Mariandynian nation,
The Megarans gave it the appellation,
Much later, “Sailor-Saver” - a bad squall
Had threatened them, and it had saved them all,
Their ships as well. The crew immediately
Went through the Acherousian promontory,
The wind now ceasing, as they reached the strand.
Unmarked by Lycos, ruler of that land 860
And the Mariandyni – they, who had slain
Amycos, as they’d heard, a dreadful stain –
They soon made out a compact for their sin,
And as from all sides they came flocking in
They welcomed Polydeuces as though he
Had been a god – for an eternity
The proud Bebrycians and themselves had clashed;
That very day to Lycos they now dashed
And in the royal halls in amity
Prepared a banquet and with jollity 870
Conversed. The very names and families
Of all his comrades, Pelias’ decrees,
The Lemnian women’s entertainment and
What in Cyzikos, Dolionian land,
Had happened, how Mysia and Cios
They visited, the unintended loss
Of Herakles, left there, the divination
Of Glaucos and their own extermination
Of Amycos and the community
Of the Bebrycians, Phineus’ prophecy 880
And woe, and how they managed to evade
The Clashing Rocks, how on the isle they made
Acquaintance with Apollo, he related.
At all these stories Lycos was elated,
Though grieved they had abandoned Herakles.
To all he said, “Friends, though to Aeetes
You travel, from a great man’s aid you’ve strayed.
For well I know I saw him when he stayed
As Dascylos my father’s guest: he went
On foot straight through the Asian continent, 890
Holding the girdle of Hippolyte,
The lover of all war: he found in me
A downy-cheeked young lad. That hero, when
My brother Priolas was by the men
Of Mysia slaughtered (whom we even yet
Lament with mournful songs), in contest met
Great Titias, a man who quite transcended
All youths in beauty and in strength, and ended
His life, his teeth smashed out. My father held
Command when all the Phrygians were quelled 900
By Herakles and the Mysians, whose land
Is next to ours; of each Bithynian band
He gained possession with its property
As far as to the peak of Colone
And Rhebas’ mouth. The Paphlagonian men
Of Pelops yielded to them there and then,
Whom Billaios’ dark water roars among.
But the Bebrycians and Amycos’ wrong,
With Herakles far away, have cheated me.
For they’ve been chipping off my property 1000
For so long now that they can draw the line
At deep Hypios’s meadows; yet the fine
They’ve paid is due to you; and that this day
He battled the Bebrycians, I must say,
Is with the gods’ will – it’s of him I tell,
Tyndareus, who sent that man to Hell.
What I can pay you in remuneration
I gladly shall pay. When cooperation
Begins from stronger men, it is the due
Of weaker ones. I urge that all of you 1010
Should take my son, Dascylos: if he goes,
You’ll meet across the seaway only those
Who show true amity as far away
As Thermodon pours out into the bay.
And I shall raise to the Tyndaridae
A lofty altar reaching to the sky
Upon the Acherousian elevation
So that from far away propitiation
Is made by every sailor to the sea.
As for the gods, so for the community 1020
Upon the well-ploughed plain I will dispense
Rich fields. “ All day they feasted well but thence
At dawn sped to the ship, and with them went
Lycos with countless gifts; he also sent
His son out of the palace. Destiny
Then took a man unmatched in prophecy,
Idmon, Abantios’s son, whose skill
Did not avail him, for by heavenly will
He was destroyed. A white-toothed boar there lay,
Cooling his flanks and large gut in the clay, 1030
A dreadful monster (even the nymphs of the fen
Were greatly terrified), beyond the ken
Of every man, and here he fed alone.
Along this muddy river’s banks Idmon
Was walking when out of the reeds this boar
With unexpected speed began to roar,
Then ran straight at him, fastening on the thigh,
Sinew and bone ripped through; with a sharp cry
He fell to earth. All yelled in unity
At this. Seeing the rabid animal flee, 1040
Peleus then launched a javelin, but then
The beast now turned around and charged again.
But Idas pierced it: with a roaring sound
It fell around the swift spear. On the ground
They left it. Then the men, in misery,
Conveyed him back towards the ship as he
Gasped out his last, and in their arms he died.
They then delayed departure as they cried
Their grief around his body. Three whole days
They mourned him, then upon the next, with praise 1050
Aplenty, they interred him. Everyone,
King Lycos too, mourned him in unison.
They slaughtered countless sheep, a ritual
Due to the dead, then a memorial
Was built for him in that locality,
That future generations all might see.
The trunk of an olive-tree, of which are made
Our ships, stands as a token in the shade
Of Acherousia’s cliff and blossoming.
If at the Muses’ bidding I must sing
Of this, Phoebus Apollo stringently 1060
To Boeotia and Nysos gave his decree
To worship Idmon and authenticate
Him as their guardian and to fabricate
The city round the trunk of this old tree,
Yet Agamestor is the honouree
Today, not that devout Aeolian.
Who was the next to die? Now they began
Again to build a tomb to glorify
A dead comrade: two tombs will meet your eye
Even yet. The son of Hagnias, it’s said,
Tiphys, expired. Two heroes lay dead, 1070
Their sailing done. A short-lived malady
Now granted him ceaseless tranquillity,
After the crew had paid due accolade
To Idmon’s corpse. This cruel grief dismayed
Them all with an unsufferable pain.
Besides the seer, fulfilling once again
The funeral rites, they sagged down on the shore
In helplessness, with little longing for
Both food and drink, their spirits bleak and black,
Since there was now no hope of sailing back. 1080
They would have stayed there in their misery
Had Hera not imposed great bravery
Upon Ancaios (where the waters run
On Imbrasos was he, Poseidon’s son,
Born to Astypalaia). Masterly
In steersmanship especially, eagerly
He spoke to Peleus: “Son of Aeacus,
How can it be appropriate for us
To give up toil amidst a foreign race?
Jason has not allotted me a space 1090
Upon the Argo the fleece to possess,
Far from Parthenia, for my skilfulness
In war but for my naval qualities.
So let there be no fear upon the seas.
The others are as are all men of skill
Not one of whom will cause us any ill,
Whoever guides us. Quickly tell them all
I’ve said and boldly urge them not to fall
From toil.” Peleus’s heart with gaiety
Was stirred at this, and he immediately 1100
Addressed the men: “What idle grief, my friends,
Is this which grips us? These two met the ends
Ordained for them, but here among the men
Are pilots, and a host of them. So then,
Let’s not delay our task. Let misery
Be cast out, turn instead to industry.”
Jason with helpless words replied: “So, these
Steersmen you speak about, Aiacides,
Where are they? Those in whom we would invest
Our trust in former days are more depressed 1110
Than I am now. So for them I foresee
The fate the dead were meted, if it be
Cruel Aeëtes’ city is denied
To us or if beyond the rocks the tide
Won’t take us back to Greece and in this place
A wretched fate will veil us in disgrace
As we grow old in idleness.” He spoke;
Ancaios eagerly put on the yoke
Of steering the swift ship – the impetus
Of Hera stirred him. Up leapt Erginos, 1120
Euphemos and Nauplios eagerly,
Agog to steer. Some of the company,
However, held them back, and of the crew
A number gave to Ancaius the due
Of steering. When daybreak on the twelfth day
Arrived, they boarded ship to sail away –
A strong west wind was blowing. Hurriedly
They rowed through Acheron and now shook free
The sails, their confidence placed upon the breeze.
With sails spread wide, they ploughed on through the seas 1130
In tranquil weather. Soon they came upon
Callichorus’s mouth, where Zeus’s son,
Bacchus, they say, when he in Thebes once dwelled,
Leaving the Indian tribes, where he then held
Revels and dances near a cave where he
Spent holy, smileless nights: accordingly
The neighbours call the stream Callichorus,
The grotto Aulion. Then Sthenelus’
Barrow they saw, the son of Actor, who,
Returning from the valorous set-to 1140
Against the Amazons – for Heracles
Accompanied him in those hostilities –
Was wounded with an arrow, on the shore
To perish. They then stayed a little, for
Persephone had sent his soul, mush-rued,
To beg, even for a short-lived interlude,
Like-minded men to see him. Just as he
Was when he fought, to the periphery
Of his own tomb he climbed and looked upon
The ship. Around his head a fair helm shone, 1150
Four-peaked with blood-red crest. Then back he went
Into the giant gloom. Astonishment
Assailed them as they looked. But then the son
Of Ampykus, Mopsus, urged everyone,
In prophecy, to go ashore and then
Appease him with libations. So the men
Drew in the sail and cast the cables out
Upon the shore, and then they set about
The tomb; the water poured, they purified
Some sheep as sacrifices and, beside 1160
The water, to Phoebus, the island’s aid,
They built an altar; in the fire they laid
The victim’s thighs. Then Orpheus dedicated
His lyre – hence this place was designated
Lyra. They boarded ship immediately
Because the wind was blowing fervently.
The sail was now stretched to each corner tightly;
The ship was carried forward, yare and spritely.
Just as a swift hawk, airborne in the sky,
Entrusts his wings to breezes way up high, 1170
Not swerving in his flight but floating through
A clear sky on untroubled wings. Then too,
They passed Parthenius flowing to the sea,
The gentlest of streams – the progeny
Of Leto, when ascending through the air
After her hunting, cools her body there
In pleasant water. Then all through the night
They sped past Erythini, great in height,
As well as Sesamos, Krobalios,
Past Kromna, too, and wooded Cytoros. 1180
At rising of the sun they curved around
Carambis, then beyond Aegialus sound
All day and through the night. Immediately
They beached on Assyrian land, where Sinope,
Asopos’ child, was granted maidenhead
And an abode by Zeus, who was misled
By his own oaths. For he had sorely needed
Her ardour and therefore he had acceded
To grant her anything she craved, so she,
In cunning, asked him for virginity. 1190
Apollo, too, she cozened just like this,
Who lusted after her by the Halys;
No man had ever in his fond embrace
Possessed her. There resided in that place
The three sons of Trikkan Deimachus -
That is Deïleon, Autolycus
And Phlogius – ever since they strayed away
From Heracles. When they discerned that day
The crew, they made known their identity
When meeting them; they did not wish to be 1200
In that land any longer, so, when blew
The North-West wind, they went and joined the crew
On board. Together they left the Halys,
Borne on a swift breeze, left, too, the Iris
That flowed nearby, and then the delta-land
Of Assyria and then the far headland
Of the Amazons, that guards their port, that day
They rounded. Once, when going on her way,
Was Melanippe, Ares’ daughter, caught
By Heracles. Hippolyte then brought 1210
To him her glittering girdle that would pay
To save her sister. He sent her away
And she returned unharmed. Then in the bay,
Where Thermodon pours out, they made their stay,
For as they came the sea was turbulent.
No river is like this: none yet has sent
Such mighty streams upon the land. If you
Should count them all, you’d lack but two times two
Out of a hundred. Yet there’s one real spring.
It cascades to the flatland, tumbling 1220
From lofty mountain-peaks which, people say,
Are called the Amazons, then makes its way
Inland through higher country and from there,
This way and that, the streams flow anywhere
They may reach lower ground, an endless flow,
One far, one nearer. Many we do not know
By name, where they are drained off. With a few
Mixed in, however, one bursts out to spew
Its arching crest into the Pontic Sea,
Which hates all ships. In this vicinity 1230
They would have stayed to tangle in a fray
With the Amazons (for whom a bloodless day
Would not have passed) – they weren’t a peaceful clan
But lawless, who on the Doeantian
Flatland resided; fierce pomposity
And war were all their care; their family tree
Grew from the nymph Harmonia and Ares,
Who, through the sexual intimacies
In Acmon’s woods and valleys, bred a strain
Of warlike maids – except there came again 1240
From Zeus the North-West currents: with a breeze
Behind they left the rounded beach, where these
Themiscyrean Amazons prepared
For battle: for their dwelling was not shared
In just one town, but, scattered through the land,
They lived in three tribes: under the command
Of Hippolyte, the Themiskureans
Were one, another the Lycastrians,
Then the Chadesians, who plied the spear.
A day and night of rowing brought them near 1250
The Chalybes, who did not care to till
Their soil nor yet with honeyed fruit to fill
Their stores, no flocks of sheep are to be found
In dewy pastures; no, they cleave the ground
That’s hard and iron-bearing, and their pay
They use to purchase victuals day by day;
No dawn appears without some dire distress;
Amid black smoke they bear great heaviness.
They soon arrived at Father Zeus’s cape
And safely passed the Tibarenes’ landscape. 1260
Whenever there’s a woman of this clan
Who has produced a child, it is the man
Who lies in bed and groans, his head bound fast,
While it’s his wife who brings him his repast
And gives him child-birth baths. Then next to see
Was the sacred mount where the Massynnoici
Reside in mountain-huts (they got their name
From μασσυν). Laws and customs aren’t the same
As ours are here. Those things the laws permit
In public places, these they all commit 1270
Within their homes, while all the acts that we
Perform indoors they do quite openly
Out in the streets without reproof; the act
Of love they don’t respect – not even racked
With shame at others’ presence they, like swine
That feed in herds, will on the ground entwine
In intercourse. Above them all, their king
Dispenses upright judgments, wretched thing.
For if he errs in his decrees, that day
They lock him up and starve him. After they 1280
Had passed this place, their oars sliced through the seas
All day past Ares’ isle, for the light breeze
Abandoned them at dusk. Then they perceived
At last a bird of Ares as it cleaved
The air in flight (they all frequent this isle).
It shook its wings upon the ship, meanwhile
Dropping a knife-sharp feather vertically;
It fell on pure Oileus’ left shoulder: he
Then dropped his oar; then all were stupefied
At this plumed bolt. Then sitting by his side, 1290
Erybotes pulled out the thing to wrap
The wound up tight, having released the strap
Suspended from his scabbard. Now there flew
Another, swooping down above the crew:
Klytius, Eurytus’ son, a champion,
Now took his curving bow, drawing upon
The bird: that winged arrow reached its mark,
Which whirled and fell beside the speedy bark.
Amphidamas, Aleus’ progeny,
Now spoke: “We see in close proximity 1300
Ares’ isle. You yourselves must know this, too,
Seeing these birds. But arrows will not do,
I think, to aid us here. We must explore
Some other method if to go ashore
Is your intent. Even Heracles, when he
Came to Arcadia, would fruitlessly
Aim at the birds that on Lake Stymphalis
Would swim. I was an eye-witness to this.
But, on the lofty hilltop brandishing
A rattle of bronze, he made the whole cliff ring. 1310
The birds fled far and screamed in frantic dread.
Likewise let’s plan anew. What’s in my head,
Once I have pondered, I will let you know.
Put on your high-plumed helmets: half then row
In turns, the others fence the ship about
With polished spears and shields; raise a loud shout
Together that the unaccustomed sound,
The nodding plumes, the high spears all around
May frighten them. If we should reach the land,
With vigour clash your shields.” What he had planned 1320
Much pleased them. Their bronze helms that starkly glowed
They donned; the crimson crests shook. Then half rowed
By turns; with spears and shields the other men
Surrounded the whole vessel, just as when
A man may tile his roof to beautify
His house while from the rain he keeps it dry,
One tile into another dovetailing,
Just so about the ship they made a ring
Of shields. Just like the din of warrior-men
As they sweep on to meet in battle, then 1330
A din rose from the ship. As yet they spied
No birds, but after they came alongside
The isle and clashed their shields, into the air
There flew a giant flock: we may compare
A time when the son of Cronus has flung down
A massive storm of hail upon a town
And all its houses, while the folk below
Can hear the din upon their roofs, although
They sit in silence, since they are aware
Of rain-storm season and have taken care 1340
To fortify their homes, these birds then sent
Thick showers of feathers as in flight they went
To the opposing peaks across the sea.
What then did Phineus have in mind when he
Bade this heroic band to go ashore
Upon this isle? What help was there in store?
The sons of Phrixus were upon the seas
From Aea and Cytaian Aieëtes,
En route to Orchomenos, under the mast
Of a Colchian ship, that they might take the vast 1350
Resources of their father who, when he
Was dying, urged them to this odyssey.
That ship was near the isle that day, but lo!
Zeuas gave the North Wind strength that it might blow,
Marking with rain Arctourus’ moistened way,
And shook the mountain-leaves throughout the day
And gently breathed on tree-tops. But at night
He rampaged seaward and, with all his might,
With screaming winds, he roused the surge. A mist
Of darkness screened the sky; no bright star kissed 1360
The heavens through the clouds, dark gloominess
Loomed all around. Grave apprehensiveness
Assailed the sons of Phrixus as the ship
Bore them, quite drenched. They saw the mainsail rip,
Snatched by the winds’ great strength which cleft in two
The bark herself which shuddered through and through,
Smashed by the surge. These four the gods induced
To grab a huge beam (with the ship reduced
To smithereens such things lay all around,
Held by sharp bolts). Upon the isle they found 1370
Themselves, near-dead and in great misery,
Borne by the waves and wind. Immediately
A mighty rain burst from the skies to fall
Upon the sea, the isle, indeed on all
The land that lay across from it. the home
Of the scornful Massynoici. Swelling foam
Cast Phrixus’ sons upon the island’s shore
On that huge beam, in murky night. The store
Of endless water Zeus at the first trace
Of dawn left off. Soon after, face-to-face 1380
The two bands met. Argos spoke first: “Our plea,
By Watchful Zeus, whoever you may be,
Is that with grace you’ll succour our distress.
Upon the sea, with dreadful fiendishness,
Cascaded tempests, scattering far and wide
The poor ship’s boards, on which we had relied,
On business bound. Therefore, if you will heed
Our prayer, we beg that you will serve our need
For clothes and for our plight show clemency –
For you are all of the same age as we. 1390
Strangers and suppliants for Zeus’s sake
(Who loves them both) you deference should take.
To Zeus belong them all and, I may guess,
He looks on us as well.” With canniness
The son of Aeson questioned him, convinced
That Phineus’ prophecies would be evinced:
“We’ll gladly do all this immediately,
But tell me where you live and why the sea
Compelled you hither, your line of descent
And your great names.” Then Argos, impotent 1400
In his distress, said: “You heard previously,
I’m sure, a certain Phrixus crossed the sea
From his Aeolia in Greece and beached
On Aea’s mainland – Phrixus, who then reached
Aeëtes’ town astride a ram of gold
(The work of Hermes). Still you may behold
Its fleece today. Then, by its own advice,
To Lord Zeus he made it a sacrifice –
To Zeus, the son of Cronus, above all
The god of fugitives. Into his hall 1410
Aeëtes welcomed him. Chalciope,
His daughter, he in magnanimity
Gave him in marriage, asking no payment.
From both of these we reckon our descent.
Within those halls, bowed with senility,
Phrixus now died, and, heeding his decree,
We promptly for Orchomenus set sail,
Of Athamas’s assets to avail
Ourselves. If you would know our names, Argos
You may call me, this is Kytissorus, 1420
This Phrontis, this Melas. He spoke and they,
The chiefs, rejoiced at what he had to say.
Then Jason made rejoinder fittingly:
“You who would have us salve your misery
Are doubtless kin upon my father’s side.
Cretheus and Athamas were unified
In brotherhood and I am the grandson
Of Cretheus. These, my comrades every one,
And I have come from Greece upon our way
To Aeëtes’ city. But another day 1430
We’ll speak of this. But first put on some wear.
The gods, I think, gave you unto my care.
He spoke and gave them clothes for them to don
Out of the ship. Together they went on
To Ares’ shrine that they might sacrifice
Some sheep. Around the altar in a trice
They gathered – built of pebbles, close beside
The roofless temple, there it stood; inside
A massive, sacred stone had been made fast,
To which all Amazons had in the past 1440
Prayed. When they had arrived from opposite
This land, to offer ox or sheep to it
Was not allowed by law. Horses that they
Nurtured in great abundance they would slay.
The sacrificing and the feasting done,
There then began a speech by Aeson’s son:
“Zeus can see all: his gaze we cannot flee,
We honest men. As Zeus once chose to free
Your father from the sanguinary guile
Of a stepmother, vouchsafing, too, a pile 1450
Of treasure, so from that ferocious gale
He saved you, too. On Argo you may sail
Here, there, indeed wherever your intent –
To Aea or the sacred, opulent
Orchomenus. For it was on the tip
Of Pelion that through her craftsmanship
Athene with her bronze axe felled each tree
That built this ship, and Argos’ industry
Assisted her. But yours the vicious shocks
Of foam has crushed before you reached those rocks 1460
Which all day clash together in the sound.
But come and help our cause, for we are bound
To bring the golden fleece back to our nation;
Guide us for I intend an expiation
For Phrixus’ plans for sacrifice (for these
Caused Zeus’s wrath at the Aeolides).”
His words were soothing, yet a horror shook
The hearers for Aeëtes would not look
With kindliness on them, they thought, if they
Intended to steal the ram’s fleece away, 1470
So Argos, vexed at such a strategy,
Said: “Friends, what little strength we have will be
Forever yours in need. But Aeëtes
Is dread and ruthless; thus to sail these seas
I dread. He boasts that he’s the progeny
Of Helios; in that vicinity
Dwell tribes of Colchians. His fierce war-shout
And massive strength would parallel, no doubt,
Those traits in Ares. It is no small chore
To take the fleece from him, and, what is more, 1480
A deathless, sleepless serpent guards it; Earth
Herself in the Caucasian vales gave birth
To it, by the rock of Typhaon: it’s said
That beast by Zeus’s bolt was buffeted
When he opposed him sturdily: there gushed
Hot lifeblood from his head, and thus he rushed
To the Nysaean mountains and plateau,
Where still he lies beneath the water’s flow
In the Serbonian lake.” He spoke. There grew
On many cheeks a pallor now they knew 1490
The venture’s aim. Peleus immediately
Encouraged him: “Do not excessively
Take fright, dear friend. We are not lacking might
So much that we can’t match the man in fight.
We go there skilled, I think, in strategy.
If he won’t give to us in amity
The golden fleece, the Colchians I doubt
Will be of use to him.” Thus, turn about,
They spoke till, feasted, they took their repose.
At dawn a gentle breeze, as they arose, 1500
Was blowing, so they raised the sails which strained,
Stretched by its force, and, with the speed they gained,
Soon left that island, reaching, at nightfall,
The isle of Philyris, where the god of all
The Titans, Cronus, son of Ouranus,
Wooed Philyra, an act duplicitous
To Rhea, while, in a Cretan cave somewhere,
The Idaean Kyretes were taking care
Of infant Zeus. Then Rhea found those two
Entwined in dalliance, so Zeus then flew 1510
From bed, adopting the anatomy
Of a long-maned steed; the maid, the progeny
Of Ocean, left in shame and went to stay
In Pelasgia’s long mountains where one day
She bore to Zeus huge Cheiron, half a horse,
Half god. From there they fetched up, in due course,
Near the Macrones and the boundless land
Of the Becheiri, then sailed beyond the strand
Of the proud Sapeires, then the Byzeres.
Forever moving on, they cleft the seas, 1520
Borne by the gentle breeze. As on they sailed
A nook appeared before them which availed
Them of the sight of steep crags rising high
Above the land of Caucasos. Nearby
Prometheus, to the harsh rocks tightly tied
With manacles forged out of bronze, supplied
With is own liver an eagle which, each day,
Came rushing back to reattack its prey.
At evening near the clouds they saw it fly,
Its wings a-whirring, high up in the sky, 1530
Yet with its wings, which made a buzzing sound,
Shaking their sails, though it did not, they found,
Look like a bird, its wings like polished oars
Poised in the air. They heard the dreadful roars,
The poor man’s liver being torn away.
The air rang till that savage bird of prey
Was seen to leave the peak, its path of flight
The same as ever. Then, during the night,
They reached broad River Phasis, courtesy
Of Argos, and the sea’s extremity. 1540
They let down sails and yard-arm and then packed
The mast and laid it flat, and then they hurled
The ship into that mighty stream, which swirled
While giving way. Steep Caucasus they spied,
Cytaian Aea also on that side;
Upon the other side from those there stood
The plain of Ares and his sacred wood:
Here was the fleece, hung on an oak’s green bough,
By a serpent watched and closely guarded. Now 1550
From a gold cup pouring sweet wine, undiluted,
Into the stream, Jason thus executed
Libations to all the divinities
Near there, to Earth and to the essences
Of the dead heroes, offering up a plea
That they would give them help indulgently
And greet with grace the hawsers. This oration
Came from Ancaius: “We have reached the nation
Of Colchis and Phasis. The time is nigh
To hatch a plan of action: should we try 1560
Aeëtes with soft words or should there be
A somewhat different approach? Thus he
Spoke out. Then Jason bade them take away
The ship to anchor in some secret bay,
At Argus’s advice. This was nearby
Where they encamped all night; and the sunrise
Soon showed itself to their expectant eyes.