The Argonautica
Thus he spake in his wrath; and mightily from its depths swelled the
heart of Aeacus’ son, and his soul within longed to speak a deadly word
in defiance, but Aeson’s son checked him, for he himself first made
gentle answer:
“Aeetes, bear with this armed band, I pray. For not in the way thou
deemest have we come to thy city and palace, no, nor yet with such
desires. For who would of his own will dare to cross so wide a sea for
the goods of a stranger? But fate and the ruthless command of a
presumptuous king urged me. Grant a favour to thy suppliants, and to
all Hellas will I publish a glorious fame of thee; yea, we are ready
now to pay thee a swift recompense in war, whether it be the Sauromatae
or some other people that thou art eager to subdue to thy sway.”
He spake, flattering him with gentle utterance; but the king’s soul
brooded a twofold purpose within him, whether he should attack and slay
them on the spot or should make trial of their might. And this, as he
pondered, seemed the better way, and he addressed Jason in answer:
“Stranger, why needest thou go through thy tale to the end? For if ye
are in truth of heavenly race, or have come in no wise inferior to me,
to win the goods of strangers, I will give thee the fleece to bear
away, if thou dost wish, when I have tried thee. For against brave men
I bear no grudge, such as ye yourselves tell me of him who bears sway
in Hellas. And the trial of your courage and might shall be a contest
which I myself can compass with my hands, deadly though it be. Two
bulls with feet of bronze I have that pasture on the plain of Ares,
breathing forth flame from their jaws; them do I yoke and drive over
the stubborn field of Ares, four plough-gates; and quickly cleaving it
with the share up to the headland, I cast into the furrows the seed,
not the corn of Demeter, but the teeth of a dread serpent that grow up
into the fashion of armed men; them I slay at once, cutting them down
beneath my spear as they rise against me on all sides. In the morning
do I yoke the oxen, and at eventide I cease from the harvesting. And
thou, if thou wilt accomplish such deeds as these, on that very day
shalt carry off the fleece to the king’s palace; ere that time comes I
will not give it, expect it not. For indeed it is unseemly that a brave
man should yield to a coward.”
Thus he spake; and Jason, fixing his eyes on the ground, sat just as he
was, speechless, helpless in his evil plight. For a long time he turned
the matter this way and that, and could in no way take on him the task
with courage, for a mighty task it seemed; and at last he made reply
with crafty words:
“With thy plea of right, Aeetes, thou dost shut me in overmuch.
Wherefore also I will dare that contest, monstrous as it is, though it
be my doom to die. For nothing will fall upon men more dread than dire
necessity, which indeed constrained me to come hither at a king’s
command.”
Thus he spake, smitten by his helpless plight; and the king with grim
words addressed him, sore troubled as he was: “Go forth now to the
gathering, since thou art eager for the toil; but if thou shouldst fear
to lift the yoke upon the oxen or shrink from the deadly harvesting,
then all this shall be my care, so that another too may shudder to come
to a man that is better than he.”
He spake outright; and Jason rose from his seat, and Augeias and
Telamon at once; and Argus followed alone, for he signed to his
brothers to stay there on the spot meantime; and so they went forth
from the hall. And wonderfully among them all shone the son of Aeson
for beauty and grace; and the maiden looked at him with stealthy
glance, holding her bright veil aside, her heart smouldering with pain;
and her soul creeping like a dream flitted in his track as he went. So
they passed forth from the palace sorely troubled. And Chalciope,
shielding herself from the wrath of Aeetes, had gone quickly to her
chamber with her sons. And Medea likewise followed, and much she
brooded in her soul all the cares that the Loves awaken. And before her
eyes the vision still appeared—himself what like he was, with what
vesture he was clad, what things he spake, how he sat on his seat, how
he moved forth to the door—and as she pondered she deemed there never
was such another man; and ever in her ears rung his voice and the
honey-sweet words which he uttered. And she feared for him, lest the
oxen or Aeetes with his own hand should slay him; and she mourned him
as though already slain outright, and in her affliction a round tear
through very grievous pity coursed down her cheek; and gently weeping
she lifted up her voice aloud:
“Why does this grief come upon me, poor wretch? Whether he be the best
of heroes now about to perish, or the worst, let him go to his doom.
Yet I would that he had escaped unharmed; yea, may this be so, revered
goddess, daughter of Perses, may he avoid death and return home; but if
it be his lot to be o’ermastered by the oxen, may he first learn this,
that I at least do not rejoice in his cruel calamity.”
Thus then was the maiden’s heart racked by love-cares. But when the
others had gone forth from the people and the city, along the path by
which at the first they had come from the plain, then Argus addressed
Jason with these words:
“Son of Aeson, thou wilt despise the counsel which I will tell thee,
but, though in evil plight, it is not fitting to forbear from the
trial. Ere now thou hast heard me tell of a maiden that uses sorcery
under the guidance of Hecate, Perses’ daughter. If we could win her aid
there will be no dread, methinks, of thy defeat in the contest; but
terribly do I fear that my mother will not take this task upon her.
Nevertheless I will go back again to entreat her, for a common
destruction overhangs us all.”
He spake with goodwill, and Jason answered with these words: “Good
friend, if this is good in thy sight, I say not nay. Go and move thy
mother, beseeching her aid with prudent words; pitiful indeed is our
hope when we have put our return in the keeping of women.” So he spake,
and quickly they reached the back-water. And their comrades joyfully
questioned them, when they saw them close at hand; and to them spoke
Aeson’s son grieved at heart:
“My friends, the heart of ruthless Aeetes is utterly filled with wrath
against us, for not at all can the goal be reached either by me or by
you who question me. He said that two bulls with feet of bronze pasture
on the plain of Ares, breathing forth flame from their jaws. And with
these he bade me plough the field, four plough-gates; and said that he
would give me from a serpent’s jaws seed which will raise up earthborn
men in armour of bronze; and on the same day I must slay them. This
task—for there was nothing better to devise—I took on myself outright.”
Thus he spake; and to all the contest seemed one that none could
accomplish, and long, quiet and silent, they looked at one another,
bowed down with the calamity and their despair; but at last Peleus
spake with courageous words among all the chiefs: “It is time to be
counselling what we shall do. Yet there is not so much profit, I trow,
in counsel as in the might of our hands. If thou then, hero son of
Aeson, art minded to yoke Aeetes’ oxen, and art eager for the toil,
surely thou wilt keep thy promise and make thyself ready. But if thy
soul trusts not her prowess utterly, then neither bestir thyself nor
sit still and look round for some one else of these men. For it is not
I who will flinch, since the bitterest pain will be but death.”
So spake the son of Aeacus; and Telamon’s soul was stirred, and quickly
he started up in eagerness; and Idas rose up the third in his pride;
and the twin sons of Tyndareus; and with them Oeneus’ son who was
numbered among strong men, though even the soft down on his cheek
showed not yet; with such courage was his soul uplifted. But the others
gave way to these in silence. And straightway Argus spake these words
to those that longed for the contest:
“My friends, this indeed is left us at the last. But I deem that there
will come to you some timely aid from my mother. Wherefore, eager
though ye be, refrain and abide in your ship a little longer as before,
for it is better to forbear than recklessly to choose an evil fate.
There is a maiden, nurtured in the halls of Aeetes, whom the goddess
Hecate taught to handle magic herbs with exceeding skill all that the
land and flowing waters produce. With them is quenched the blast of
unwearied flame, and at once she stays the course of rivers as they
rush roaring on, and checks the stars and the paths of the sacred moon.
Of her we bethought us as we came hither along the path from the
palace, if haply my mother, her own sister, might persuade her to aid
us in the venture. And if this is pleasing to you as well, surely on
this very day will I return to the palace of Aeetes to make trial; and
perchance with some god’s help shall I make the trial.”
Thus he spake, and the gods in their goodwill gave them a sign. A
trembling dove in her flight from a mighty hawk fell from on high,
terrified, into the lap of Aeson’s son, and the hawk fell impaled on
the stern-ornament. And quickly Mopsus with prophetic words spake among
them all:
“For you, friends, this sign has been wrought by the will of heaven; in
no other way is it possible to interpret its meaning better, than to
seek out the maiden and entreat her with manifold skill. And I think
she will not reject our prayer, if in truth Phineus said that our
return should be with the help of the Cyprian goddess. It was her
gentle bird that escaped death; and as my heart within me foresees
according to this omen, so may it prove! But, my friends, let us call
on Cytherea to aid us, and now at once obey the counsels of Argus.”
He spake, and the warriors approved, remembering the injunctions of
Phineus; but all alone leapt up Apharcian Idas and shouted loudly in
terrible wrath: “Shame on us, have we come here fellow voyagers with
women, calling on Cypris for help and not on the mighty strength of
Enyalius? And do ye look to doves and hawks to save yourselves from
contests? Away with you, take thought not for deeds of war, but by
supplication to beguile weakling girls.”
Such were his eager words; and of his comrades many murmured low, but
none uttered a word of answer back. And he sat down in wrath; and at
once Jason roused them and uttered his own thought: “Let Argus set
forth from the ship, since this pleases all; but we will now move from
the river and openly fasten our hawsers to the shore. For surely it is
not fitting for us to hide any longer cowering from the battle-cry.”
So he spake, and straightway sent Argus to return in haste to the city;
and they drew the anchors on board at the command of Aeson’s son, and
rowed the ship close to the shore, a little away from the back-water.
But straightway Aeetes held an assembly of the Colchians far aloof from
his palace at a spot where they sat in times before, to devise against
the Minyae grim treachery and troubles. And he threatened that when
first the oxen should have torn in pieces the man who had taken upon
him to perform the heavy task, he would hew down the oak grove above
the wooded hill, and burn the ship and her crew, that so they might
vent forth in ruin their grievous insolence, for all their haughty
schemes. For never would he have welcomed the Aeolid Phrixus as a guest
in his halls, in spite of his sore need, Phrixus, who surpassed all
strangers in gentleness and fear of the gods, had not Zeus himself sent
Hermes his messenger down from heaven, so that he might meet with a
friendly host; much less would pirates coming to his land be let go
scatheless for long, men whose care it was to lift their hands and