The Argonautica
straightway she fared backwards, and in her subtlety she bade the
heroes follow, charming them on with her hand. Thereupon the host
remained stedfast at the bidding of Aeson’s son, but Jason drew with
him the Colchian maid. And both followed the selfsame path till they
reached the hall of Circe, and she in amaze at their coming bade them
sit on brightly burnished seats. And they, quiet and silent, sped to
the hearth and sat there, as is the wont of wretched suppliants. Medea
hid her face in both her hands, but Jason fixed in the ground the
mighty hilted sword with which he had slain Aeetes’ son; nor did they
raise their eyes to meet her look. And straightway Circe became aware
of the doom of a suppliant and the guilt of murder. Wherefore in
reverence for the ordinance of Zeus, the god of suppliants, who is a
god of wrath yet mightily aids slayers of men, she began to offer the
sacrifice with which ruthless suppliants are cleansed from guilt when
they approach the altar. First, to atone for the murder still
unexpiated, she held above their heads the young of a sow whose dugs
yet swelled from the fruit of the womb, and, severing its neck,
sprinkled their hands with the blood; and again she made propitiation
with other drink offerings, calling on Zeus the Cleanser, the protector
of murder-stained suppliants. And all the defilements in a mass her
attendants bore forth from the palace—the Naiad nymphs who ministered
all things to her. And within, Circe, standing by the hearth, kept
burning atonement-cakes without wine, praying the while that she might
stay from their wrath the terrible Furies, and that Zeus himself might
be propitious and gentle to them both, whether with hands stained by
the blood of a stranger or, as kinsfolk, by the blood of a kinsman,
they should implore his grace.
But when she had wrought all her task, then she raised them up and
seated them on well polished seats, and herself sat near, face to face
with them. And at once she asked them clearly of their business and
their voyaging, and whence they had come to her land and palace, and
had thus seated themselves as suppliants at her hearth. For in truth
the hideous remembrance of her dreams entered her mind as she pondered;
and she longed to hear the voice of the maiden, her kinswoman, as soon
as she saw that she had raised her eyes from the ground. For all those
of the race of Helios were plain to discern, since by the far flashing
of their eyes they shot in front of them a gleam as of gold. So Medea
told her all she asked—the daughter of Aeetes of the gloomy heart,
speaking gently in the Colchian tongue, both of the quest and the
journeyings of the heroes, and of their toils in the swift contests,
and how she had sinned through the counsels of her much-sorrowing
sister, and how with the sons of Phrixus she had fled afar from the
tyrannous horrors of her father; but she shrank from telling of the
murder of Apsyrtus. Yet she escaped not Circe’s ken; nevertheless, in
spite of all, she pitied the weeping maiden, and spake thus:
“Poor wretch, an evil and shameful return hast thou planned. Not for
long, I ween, wilt thou escape the heavy wrath of Aeetes; but soon will
he go even to the dwellings of Hellas to avenge the blood of his son,
for intolerable are the deeds thou hast done. But since thou art my
suppliant and my kinswoman, no further ill shall I devise against thee
at thy coming; but begone from my halls, companioning the stranger,
whosoever he be, this unknown one that thou hast taken in thy father’s
despite; and kneel not to me at my hearth, for never will I approve thy
counsels and thy shameful flight.”
Thus she spake, and measureless anguish seized the maid; and over her
eyes she cast her robe and poured forth a lamentation, until the hero
took her by the hand and led her forth from the hall quivering with
fear. So they left the home of Circe.
But they were not unmarked by the spouse of Zeus, son of Cronos; but
Iris told her when she saw them faring from the hall. For Hera had
bidden her watch what time they should come to the ship; so again she
urged her and spake:
“Dear Iris, now come, if ever thou hast fulfilled my bidding, hie thee
away on light pinions, and bid Thetis arise from the sea and come
hither. For need of her is come upon me. Then go to the sea-beaches
where the bronze anvils of Hephaestus are smitten by sturdy hammers,
and tell him to still the blasts of fire until Argo pass by them. Then
go to Aeolus too, Aeolus who rules the winds, children of the clear
sky; and to him also tell my purpose so that he may make all winds
cease under heaven and no breeze may ruffle the sea; yet let the breath
of the west wind blow until the heroes have reached the Phaeacian isle
of Alcinous.”
So she spake, and straightway Iris leapt down from Olympus and cleft
her way, with light wings outspread. And she plunged into the Aegean
Sea, where is the dwelling of Nereus. And she came to Thetis first and,
by the promptings of Hera, told her tale and roused her to go to the
goddess. Next she came to Hephaestus, and quickly made him cease from
the clang of his iron hammers; and the smoke-grimed bellows were stayed
from their blast. And thirdly she came to Aeolus, the famous son of
Hippotas. And when she had given her message to him also and rested her
swift knees from her course, then Thetis leaving Nereus and her sisters
had come from the sea to Olympus to the goddess Hera; and the goddess
made her sit by her side and uttered her word:
“Hearken now, lady Thetis, to what I am eager to tell thee. Thou
knowest how honoured in my heart is the hero, Aeson’s son, and the
others that have helped him in the contest, and how I saved them when
they passed between the Wandering rocks,[31] where roar terrible storms
of fire and the waves foam round the rugged reefs. And now past the
mighty rock of Scylla and Charybdis horribly belching, a course awaits
them. But thee indeed from thy infancy did I tend with my own hands and
love beyond all others that dwell in the salt sea because thou didst
refuse to share the couch of Zeus, for all his desire. For to him such
deeds are ever dear, to embrace either goddesses or mortal women. But
in reverence for me and with fear in thy heart thou didst shrink from
his love; and he then swore a mighty oath that thou shouldst never be
called the bride of an immortal god. Yet he ceased not from spying thee
against thy will, until reverend Themis declared to him the whole
truth, how that it was thy fate to bear a son mightier than his sire;
wherefore he gave thee up, for all his desire, fearing lest another
should be his match and rule the immortals, and in order that he might
ever hold his own dominion. But I gave thee the best of the sons of
earth to be thy husband, that thou mightest find a marriage dear to thy
heart and bear children; and I summoned to the feast the gods, one and
all. And with my own hand I raised the bridal torch, in return for the
kindly honour thou didst pay me. But come, let me tell a tale that
erreth not. When thy son shall come to the Elysian plain, he whom now
in the home of Cheiron the Centaur water-nymphs are tending, though he
still craves thy mother milk, it is fated that he be the husband of
Medea, Aeetes’ daughter; do thou aid thy daughter-in-law as a
mother-in-law should, and aid Peleus himself. Why is thy wrath so
steadfast? He was blinded by folly. For blindness comes even upon the
gods. Surely at my behest I deem that Hephaestus will cease from
kindling the fury of his flame, and that Aeolus, son of Hippotas, will
check his swift rushing winds, all but the steady west wind, until they
reach the havens of the Phaeacians; do thou devise a return without
bane. The rocks and the tyrannous waves are my fear, they alone, and
them thou canst foil with thy sisters’ aid. And let them not fall in
their helplessness into Charybdis lest she swallow them at one gulp, or
approach the hideous lair of Scylla, Ausonian Scylla the deadly, whom
night-wandering Hecate, who is called Crataeis,[32] bare to Phoreys,
lest swooping upon them with her horrible jaws she destroy the chiefest
of the heroes. But guide their ship in the course where there shall be
still a hair’s breadth escape from destruction.”
Thus she spake, and Thetis answered with these words: “If the fury of
the ravening flame and the stormy winds cease in very deed, surely will
I promise boldly to save the ship, even though the waves bar the way,
if only the west wind blows fresh and clear. But it is time to fare on
a long and measureless path, in quest of my sisters who will aid me,
and to the spot where the ship’s hawsers are fastened, that at early
dawn the heroes may take thought to win their home-return.”
She spake, and darting down from the sky fell amid the eddies of the
dark blue sea; and she called to aid her the rest of the Nereids, her
own sisters; and they heard her and gathered together; and Thetis
declared to them Hera’s behests, and quickly sped them all on their way
to the Ausonian sea. And herself, swifter than the flash of an eye or
the shafts of the sun, when it rises upwards from a far-distant land,
hastened swiftly through the sea, until she reached the Aeaean beach of
the Tyrrhenian mainland. And the heroes she found by the ship taking
their pastime with quoits and shooting of arrows; and she drew near and
just touched the hand of Aeaeus’ son Peleus, for he was her husband;
nor could anyone see her clearly, but she appeared to his eyes alone,
and thus addressed him:
“No longer now must ye stay sitting on the Tyrrhenian beach, but at
dawn loosen the hawsers of your swift ship, in obedience to Hera, your
helper. For at her behest the maiden daughters of Nereus have met
together to draw your ship through the midst of the rocks which are
called Planctae, [33] for that is your destined path. But do thou show
my person to no one, when thou seest us come to meet time, but keep it
secret in thy mind, lest thou anger me still more than thou didst anger
me before so recklessly.”
She spake, and vanished into the depths of the sea; but sharp pain
smote Peleus, for never before had he seen her come, since first she
left her bridal chamber and bed in anger, on account of noble Achilles,
then a babe. For she ever encompassed the child’s mortal flesh in the
night with the flame of fire; and day by day she anointed with ambrosia
his tender frame, so that he might become immortal and that she might
keep off from his body loathsome old age. But Peleus leapt up from his
bed and saw his dear son gasping in the flame; and at the sight he
uttered a terrible cry, fool that he was; and she heard it, and
catching up the child threw him screaming to the ground, and herself
like a breath of wind passed swiftly from the hall as a dream and leapt
into the sea, exceeding wroth, and thereafter returned not again.
Wherefore blank amazement fettered his soul; nevertheless he declared
to his comrades all the bidding of Thetis. And they broke off in the
midst and hurriedly ceased their contests, and prepared their meal and
earth-strewn beds, whereon after supper they slept through the night as
aforetime.
Now when dawn the light-bringer was touching the edge of heaven, then
at the coming of the swift west wind they went to their thwarts from
the land; and gladly did they draw up the anchors from the deep and
made the tackling ready in due order; and above spread the sail,
stretching it taut with the sheets from the yard-arm. And a fresh
breeze wafted the ship on. And soon they saw a fair island,
Anthemoessa, where the clear-voiced Sirens, daughters of Achelous, used
to beguile with their sweet songs whoever cast anchor there, and then
destroy him. Them lovely Terpsichore, one of the Muses, bare, united