Roman Roads Reader: Drama and Lyric

Transcription

Roman Roads Reader: Drama and Lyric

Roman Roads Reader:
Drama and Lyric
Selections from Greek Drama & Lyric
Companion Book for Greeks: Drama and Lyric,
a video course by Roman Roads Media.
Euripides, Sappho, Pindar, Hesiod, Theocritus,
Quintus of Smyrna, and Apollonius of Rhodes
Edited by Daniel Foucachon
This book has been designed to accompany the video course Greeks:
Drama and Lyric, part of the Old Western Culture series by Roman Roads
Media. To find out more about this course, visit
www.romanroadsmedia.com
While the selections contained in this volume match the specific course of
study for Drama and Lyric (mentioned above), this selection may be of
great use and enjoyment to any student of the classics, and we hope it
finds its way into your library.
Other titles in the Old Western Culture Series by Roman Roads Media:
Greeks:
-- The Epics (The Iliad & The Odyssey)
-- Drama and Lyric (The Tragedies, Comedies, and Minor Poets)
-- The Histories (Herodotus, Thucydides, and Xenophon)
-- The Philosophers (Plato and Aristotle)
Romans:
-- The Roman Epic (The Aeneid, Ovid, and Lucretius)
-- The Historians (Livy, Tacitus, Salust, Julius Caesar, Plutarch, and Cicero)
-- Early Christianity (Clementine, Ignatius, Irenaeus, Justin Martyr, and Eusebius)
-- Post-Nicene Christianity (Athanasius, Augustine, and Boethius)
Christendom:
-- Early Medieval (St. Benedict, Bede, Charlemagne, and Alfred the Great)
-- The Defense of the Faith (Anselm, Geffrey of Monmoth, The Golden Legend)
-- The Medieval Mind (Dante and Aquinas)
-- The Reformation (Erasmus, Calvin, Cranmer, Spencer, and Chaucer)
Early Moderns:
-- Early British Poetry (Metaphysical Poets, Milton, Shakespeare, and Bunyan)
-- The Rise of Enlightenment (Bacon, Descartes, Locke, Rousseau, Jefferson,
Burke, and Alexis de Toqueville)
-- Later British Poetry (Neo-Classical Poetry, Victorian Poetry, and Romantic Poetry)
-- The Novels (Austen, Dickens, Dostoevsky, Hugo)
Other video courses by Roman Roads Media:
Grammar of Poetry (Matt Whitling)
French Cuisine (Francis Foucachon)
Introductory Logic (Jim Nance)
Intermediate Logic (Jim Nance)
Video Curriculum | Classical Education | Christian Perspective
Roman Roads Reader:
Drama and Lyric
Selections from Greek Drama & Lyric
Companion Book for Greeks: Drama and Lyric,
a video course by Roman Roads Media.
Euripides, Sappho, Pindar, Hesiod, Theocritus,
Quintus of Smyrna, and Apollonius of Rhodes
Edited by Daniel Foucachon
Copyright © 2013 by Roman Roads Media, LLC
Roman Roads Media
739 S Hayes St
Moscow, Idaho
83843
www.romanroadsmedia.com
Roman Roads combines its technical expertise with the experience of
established authorities in the field of classical education to create
quality video courses and resources tailored to the homeschooler. Just
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by which the early church spread the gospel far and wide, so Roman
Roads Media uses today’s technology to bring timeless truth, goodness,
and beauty into your home. By combining excellent instruction
augmented with visual aids and examples, we help inspire in your
children a lifelong love of learning.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN: 978-0-9897028-0-5
Table of Contents
EURIPIDES (PLAYS) ........................................................................................1
THE MEDEA ................................................................................................... 1
THE TROJAN WOMEN ................................................................................. 39
SAPPHO (POEMS)...................................................................................... 101
HYMN TO APHRODITE ............................................................................... 101
SECOND POEM .......................................................................................... 102
THIRD POEM ............................................................................................. 103
FOURTH POEM.......................................................................................... 104
FIFTH POEM .............................................................................................. 105
INVOCATION TO APHRODITE .................................................................... 105
PINDAR (ODES) ......................................................................................... 107
5TH NEMEAN ODE .................................................................................... 107
10TH PYTHIAN ODE ................................................................................... 109
1ST OLYPIAN ODE...................................................................................... 112
1ST ISTHMIAN ODE ................................................................................... 115
THEOCRITUS (IDYLLS) ................................................................................ 119
IDYLL I. ...................................................................................................... 119
IDYLL VI ..................................................................................................... 125
IDYLL VII .................................................................................................... 127
IDYLL XI ..................................................................................................... 133
HESIOD (WORKS & DAYS) ......................................................................... 137
QUINTUS OF SMYRNA (FALL OF TROY) ...................................................... 155
BOOK I ....................................................................................................... 155
BOOK III ..................................................................................................... 174
BOOK V ..................................................................................................... 190
BOOK XII .................................................................................................... 204
APOLLONIUS OF RHODES (ARGONAUTICA) ............................................... 215
BOOK I ........................................................................................................ 215
BOOK II ....................................................................................................... 251
BOOK III ...................................................................................................... 278
BOOK IV ...................................................................................................... 308
A note about line numbers.
You will notice that the longer works in this collection have numbers at
the beginning most paragraphs. These roughly correspond to the original
line numbers in the Greek, and are a way of referencing the specific parts.
Large works are divided into “books” rather than the chapters we use in
modern books. If you wanted to reference a certain part of a larger work,
such as Argonautica, you might inscribe it thusly: [Argonautica, III.22]. This
would tell the reader that you are referencing Argonautica, Book III, line
22. This is a very common short hand for classical books. For term
papers, please reference Kate Turabian’s Manual for Writers of Research
Papers, Theses, and Dissertations (University of Chicago Press).
The Medea
Euripides
TRANS. BY THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY
PERSONS REPRESENTED:
Nurse
Jason
Tutor
Ægeus
Medea
Messenger
Chorus of Corinthian women
Sons of Medea
Creon
The Scene lies in the vestibule of the palace of Jason at Corinth.
THE ARGUMENT.
J
ason, having come to Corinth, and bringing with him Medea, espouses
Glauce, the daughter of Creon, king of Corinth. But Medea, on the
point of being banished from Corinth by Creon, having asked to
remain one day, and having obtained her wish, sends to Glauce, by the
hands of her sons, presents, as an acknowledgment for the favor, a robe
and a golden chaplet, which she puts on and perishes; Creon also having
embraced his daughter is destroyed. But Medea, when she had slain her
children, escapes to Athens, in a chariot drawn by winged dragons, which
she received from the Sun, and there marries Ægeus son of Pandion.
ROMAN ROADS READER: DRAMA & LYRIC
NURSE OF MEDEAi.
Would that the hull of Argo had not winged her way to the Colchian land
through the Cyanean Symplegades,ii and that the pine felled in the forests
of Pelion had never fallen, nor had caused the hands of the chiefs to
row,iii who went in search of the golden fleece for Pelias; for neither then
would my mistress Medea have sailed to the towers of the Iolcian land,
deeply smitten in her mind with the love of Jason; nor having persuaded
the daughters of Pelias to slay their father would she have inhabited this
country of Corinth with her husband and her children, pleasing indeed by
her flightiv the citizens to whose land she came, and herself concurring in
every respect with Jason; which is the surest support of conjugal
happiness, when the wife is not estranged from the husband. But now
every thing is at variance, and the dearest ties are weakened. For having
betrayed his own children, and my mistress, Jason reposes in royal
wedlock, having married the daughter of Creon, who is prince of this
land. But Medea the unhappy, dishonored, calls on his oaths, and recalls
the hands they plighted, the greatest pledge of fidelity, and invokes the
gods to witness what return she meets with from Jason. And she lies
without tasting food, having sunk her body in grief, dissolving all her
tedious time in tears, after she had once known that she had been injured
by her husband, neither raising her eye, nor lifting her countenance from
the ground; but as the rock, or the wave of the sea, does she listen to her
friends when advised. Save that sometimes having turned her snow-white
neck she to herself bewails her dear father, and her country, and her
house, having betrayed which she hath come hither with a man who has
now dishonored her. And she wretched hath discovered from affliction
what it is not to forsake one's paternal country. But she hates her children,
nor is she delighted at beholding them: but I fear her, lest she form some
new design: for violent is her mind, nor will it endure to suffer ills. I know
her, and I fear her, lest she should force the sharpened sword through her
heart, or even should murder the princess and him who married her, and
These headers in all caps indicate the person or people who are about to talk, or who
have entered the scene.
i
The Cyaneæ Petræ, or Symplegades, were two rocks in the mouth of the Euxine Sea, said
to meet together with prodigious violence, and crush the passing ships. See Pindar. Pyth.
iv. 386.
ii
ερετμωσαι signifies to make to row; ερετμησαι, to row. In the same sense the two verbs
derived from πολεμος are used, πολεμοω signifying ad bellum excito; πολεμεω, bellum
gero.
iii
iv
Elmsley reads φυγη in the nominative case, "a flight indeed pleasing," etc.
2
EURIPIDES: THE MEDEA
after that receive some greater ill. For she is violent; he who engages with
her in enmity will not with ease at least sing the song of victory. But these
her children are coming hither having ceased from their exercises, nothing
mindful of their mother's ills, for the mind of youth is not wont to grieve.
TUTOR, WITH THE SONS OF MEDEA, NURSE.
TUT. O thou ancient possession of my mistress's house, why dost thou
stand at the gates preserving thus thy solitude, bewailing to thyself our
misfortunes? How doth Medea wish to be left alone without thee?
NUR. O aged man, attendant on the children of Jason, to faithful servants
the affairs of their masters turning out ill are a calamity, and lay hold upon
their feelings. For I have arrived at such a height of grief that desire hath
stolen on me to come forth hence and tell the misfortunes of Medea to
the earth and heaven.
TUT. Does not she wretched yet receive any respite from her grief?
NUR. I envy thy ignorance; her woe is at its rise, and not even yet at its
height.
TUT. O unwise woman, if it is allowable to say this of one's lords, since
she knows nothing of later ills.
NUR. But what is this, O aged man? grudge not to tell me.
TUT. Nothing: I have repented even of what was said before.
NUR. Do not, I beseech you by your beard, conceal it from your fellowservant; for I will preserve silence, if it be necessary, on these subjects.
TUT. I heard from some one who was saying, not appearing to listen,
having approached the places where dice is played, where the elders sit,
3
around the hallowed font of Pirene, that the king of this land, Creon,
intends to banish from the Corinthian country these children, together
with their mother; whether this report be true, however, I know not; but I
wish this may not be the case.
NUR. And will Jason endure to see his children suffer this, even although
he is at enmity with their mother?
TUT. Ancient alliances are deserted for new, and he is no friend to this
family.
NUR. We perish then, if to the old we shall add a new ill, before the
former be exhausted.
TUT. But do thou, for it is not seasonable that my mistress should know
this, restrain your tongue, and be silent on this report.
NUR. O my children, do you hear what your father is toward you? Yet
may he not perish, for he is my master, yet he is found to be treacherous
toward his friends.
TUT. And what man is not? dost thou only now know this, that every one
loves himself dearer than his neighbor, some indeed with justice, but
others even for the sake of gain, unless it be that their father loves not
these at least on account of new nuptials.
NUR. Go within the house, my children, for all will be well. But do thou
keep these as much as possible out of the way, and let them not approach
their mother, deranged through grief. For but now I saw her looking with
wildness in her eyes on these, as about to execute some design, nor will
she cease from her fury, I well know, before she overwhelm some one
with it; upon her enemies however, and not her friends, may she do some
[ill.]
MEDEA. (within) Wretch that I am, and miserable on account of my
misfortunes, alas me! would I might perish!
4
NUR. Thus it is, my children; your mother excites her heart, excites her
fury. Hasten as quick as possible within the house, and come not near her
sight, nor approach her, but guard against the fierce temper and violent
nature of her self-willed mind. Go now, go as quick as possible within.
But it is evident that the cloud of grief raised up from the beginning will
quickly burst forth with greater fury; what I pray will her soul, great in
rage, implacable, irritated by ills, perform!
MED. Alas! alas! I wretched have suffered, have suffered treatment
worthy of great lamentation. O ye accursed children of a hated mother,
may ye perish with your father, and may the whole house fall.
NUR. Alas! alas! me miserable! but why should your children share their
father's error? Why dost thou hate these! Alas me, my children, how
beyond measure do I grieve lest ye suffer any evil! Dreadful are the
dispositions of tyrants, and somehow in few things controlled, in most
absolute, they with difficulty lay aside their passion. The being
accustomed thenv to live in mediocrity of life is the better: may it be my
lot then to grow old if not in splendor, at least in security. For, in the first
place, even to mention the name of moderation carries with it superiority,
but to use it is by far the best conduct for men; but excess of fortune
brings more power to men than is convenient; and has brought greater
woes upon families, when the Deity be enraged.
NURSE, CHORUS.
CHOR. I heard the voice, I heard the cry of the unhappy Colchian; is not
she yet appeased? but, O aged matron, tell me; for within the apartment
with double doors, I heard her cry; nor am I delighted, O woman, with
the griefs of the family, since it is friendly to me.
NUR. The family is not; these things are gone already: for he possesses
the bed of royalty; but she, my mistress, is melting away her life in her
v
In Elms. Dind. το γαρ ειθισθαι, "for the being accustomed," etc.
5
chamber, in no way soothing her mind by the advice of any one of her
friends.
MED. Alas! alas! may the flame of heaven rush through my head, what
profit for me to live any longer. Alas! alas! may I rest myself in death,
having left a hated life.
CHOR. Dost thou hear, O Jove, and earth, and light, the cry which the
wretched bride utters? why I pray should this insatiable love of the
marriage-bed hasten thee, O vain woman, to death? Pray not for this. But
if thy husband courts a new bed, be not thus enraged with him. Jove will
avenge these wrongs for thee: waste not thyself so, bewailing thy husband.
MED. O great Themis and revered Diana, do ye behold what I suffer,
having bound my accursed husband by powerful oaths? Whom may I at
some time see and his bride torn piecemeal with their very houses, who
dare to injure me first. O my father, O my city, whom I basely abandoned,
having slain my brother.
NUR. Do ye hear what she says, and how she invokes Themis hearing the
vow, and Jove who is considered the dispenser of oaths to mortals? It is
not possible that my mistress will lull her rage to rest on any trivial
circumstance.
CHOR. By what means could she come into our sight, and hear the voice
of our discourse, if she would by any means remit her fierce anger and her
fury of mind. Let not my zeal however be wanting ever to my friends. But
go and conduct her hither from without the house, my friend, and tell her
this, hasten, before she injure in any way those within, for this grief of
hers is increased to a great height.
NUR. I will do it, but I fear that I shall not persuade my mistress;
nevertheless I will give you this favor of my labor. And yet with the aspect
of a lioness that has just brought forth does she look sternly on her
attendants when any one approaches near attempting to address her. But
thou wouldest not err in calling men of old foolish and nothing wise, who
invented songs, for festivals, for banquets, and for suppers, the delights of
life that charm the ear; but no mortal has discovered how to soothe with
6
music and with varied strains those bitter pangs, from which death and
dreadful misfortunes overthrow families. And yet for men to assuage
these griefs with music were gain; but where the plenteous banquet is
furnished, why raise they the song in vain? for the present bounty of the
feast brings pleasure of itself to men.
CHOR. I heard the dismal sound of groans, and in a shrill voice she vents
her bitter anguish on the traitor to her bed, her faithless husband—and
suffering wrongs she calls upon the Goddess Themis, arbitress of oaths,
daughter of Jove, who conducted her to the opposite coast of Greece,
across the sea by night, over the salt straits of the boundless ocean.
MEDEA, CHORUS.
MED. Ye Corinthian dames, I have come from out my palace; do not in
any wise blame me; for I have known many men who have been
renowned, some who have lived far from public notice, and others in the
world; but those of a retired turn have gained for themselves a character
of infamy and indolence. For justice dwells not in the eyes of man, vi
whoever, before he can well discover the disposition of a man, hates him
at sight, in no way wronged by him. But it is necessary for a stranger
exactly to conform himself to the state, nor would I praise the native,
whoever becoming self-willed is insolent to his fellow-citizens through
ignorance. But this unexpected event that hath fallen upon me hath
destroyed my spirit: I am going, and having given up the pleasure of life I
am desirous to meet death, my friends. For he on whom my all rested, as
you well know, my husband, has turned out the basest of men. But of all
things as many as have life and intellect, we women are the most wretched
race. Who indeed first must purchase a husband with excess of money,
and receive him a lord of our persons; for this is a still greater ill than the
former. And in this is the greatest risk, whether we receive a bad one or a
good one; for divorces bring not good fame to women, nor is it possible
to repudiate one's husband. But on passing to new tempers and new laws,
one need be a prophetess, as one can not learn of one's self, what sort of
That is, the character of man can not be discovered by the countenance: so Juvenal,
Fronti nulla fides. ‛οστις, though in the singular number, refers to βροτων in the plural: a
similar construction is met with in Homer, Il. Γ. 279.
vi
7
consort one shall most likely experience. And if with us carefully
performing these things a husband shall dwell not imposing on us a yoke
with severity, enviable is our life; if not, to die is better. But a man, when
he is displeased living with those at home, having gone abroad is wont to
relieve his heart of uneasiness, having recourse either to some friend or
compeer. But we must look but to one person. But they say of us that we
live a life of ease at home, but they are fighting with the spear; judging ill,
since I would rather thrice stand in arms, than once suffer the pangs of
child-birth. But, for the same argument comes not home to you and me,
this is thy city, and thy father's house, thine are both the luxuries of life,
and the society of friends; but I being destitute, cityless, am wronged by
my husband, brought as a prize from a foreign land, having neither
mother, nor brother, nor relation to afford me shelter from this calamity.
So much then I wish to obtain from you, if any plan or contrivance be
devised by me to repay with justice these injuries on my husband, and on
him who gave his daughter, and on her to whom he was married,vii that
you would be silent; for a woman in other respects is full of fear, and
timid to look upon deeds of courage and the sword; but when she is
injured in her bed, no other disposition is more blood-thirsty.
CHOR. I will do this; for with justice, Medea, wilt thou avenge thyself on
thy husband, and I do not wonder that you lament your misfortunes. But
I see Creon monarch of this land advancing, the messenger of new
counsels.
CREON, MEDEA, CHORUS.
CRE. Thee of gloomy countenance, and enraged with thy husband,
Medea, I command to depart in exile from out of this land, taking with
thee thy two children, and not to delay in any way, since I am the arbiter
of this edict, and I will not return back to my palace, until I shall drive
thee beyond the boundaries of this realm.
Grammarians teach us that γαμειν is applied to the husband, γαμεισθαι to the wife; and
this rule will generally be found to hold good. We must either then read ‛η τ' εγηματο,
which Porson does not object to, and Elmsley adopts; or understand εγηματο in an
ironical sense, in the spirit of Martial's Uxori nubere nolo meæ: in the latter case ‛ηι τ'
εγηματο should be read (not ‛ην τ'), as being the proper syntax.
vii
8
MED. Alas! alas! I wretched am utterly destroyed, for my enemies stretch
out every cable against me; nor is there any easy escape from this evil, but
I will speak, although suffering injurious treatment; for what, Creon, dost
thou drive me from this land?
CRE. I fear thee (there is no need for me to wrap my words in obscurity,)
lest thou do my child some irremediable mischief, And many
circumstances are in unison with this dread. Thou art wise, and skilled in
many evil sciences, and thou art exasperated, deprived of thy husband's
bed. And I hear that thou threatenest, as they tell me, to wreak some deed
of vengeance on the betrother, and the espouser and the espoused; against
this then, before I suffer, will I guard. Better is it for me now to incur
enmity from you, than softened by your words afterward greatly to lament
it.
MED. Alas! alas! not now for the first time, but often, Creon, hath this
opinion injured me, and worked me much woe. But whatever man is
prudent, let him never educate his children too deep in wisdom. For,
independent of the other charges of idleness which they meet with, they
find hostile envy from their fellow-citizens. For holding out to fools some
new-discovered wisdom, thou wilt seem to be useless and not wise. And
being judged superior to others who seem to have some varied
knowledge, thou wilt appear offensive in the city. But even I myself share
this fortune; for being wise, to some I am an object of envy, but to others,
unsuited; but I am not very wise. Thou then fearest me, lest thou suffer
some grievous mischief. My affairs are not in a state, fear me not, Creon,
so as to offend against princes. For in what hast thou injured me? Thou
hast given thy daughter to whom thy mind led thee; but I hate my
husband: but thou, I think, didst these things in prudence. And now I
envy not that thy affairs are prospering; make your alliances, be successful;
but suffer me to dwell in this land, for although injured will I keep silence,
overcome by my superiors.
CRE. Thou speakest soft words to the ear, but within my mind I have my
fears, lest thou meditate some evil intent. And so much the less do I trust
thee than before. For a woman that is quick to anger, and a man likewise,
is easier to guard against, than one that is crafty and keeps silence. But
begone as quick as possible, make no more words; since this is decreed,
and thou hast no art, by which thou wilt stay with us, being hostile to me.
9
MEDviii. No I beseech you by your knees, and your newly-married
daughter.
CRE. Thou wastest words; for thou wilt never persuade me.
MED. Wilt thou then banish me, nor reverence my prayers?
CRE. For I do not love thee better than my own family.
MED. O my country, how I remember thee now!
CRE. For next to my children it is much the dearest thing to me.
MED. Alas! alas! how great an ill is love to man!
CRE. That is, I think, as fortune also shall attend it.
MED. Jove, let it not escape thine eye, who is the cause of these
misfortunes.
CRE. Begone, fond woman, and free me from these cares.
MED. Care indeed; and do not I experience cares?
CRE. Quickly shalt thou be driven hence by force by the hands of my
domestics.
MED. No, I pray not this at least; but I implore thee, Creon.
CRE. Thou wilt give trouble, woman, it seems.
MED. I will go; I dare not ask to obtain this of you.
CRE. Why then dost thou resist, and wilt not depart from these realms?
MED. Permit me to remain here this one day, and to bring my purpose to
a conclusion, in what way we shall fly, and to make provision for my sons,
viii
Short back-and-forth exchanges between two people are grouped for easier reading.
10
since their father in no way regards providing for his children; but pity
them, for thou also art the father of children; and it is probable that thou
hast tenderness: for of myself I have no care whether I may suffer
banishment, but I weep for them experiencing this calamity.
CRE. My disposition is least of all imperious, and through feeling pity in
many cases have I injured myself. And now I see that I am doing wrong,
O lady, but nevertheless thou shalt obtain thy request; but this I warn
thee, if to-morrow's light of the God of day shall behold thee and thy
children within the confines of these realms, thou shalt die: this word is
spoken in truth. But now if thou must stay, remain here yet one day, for
thou wilt not do any horrid deed of which I have dread.
MEDEA, CHORUS.
CHOR. Unhappy woman! alas wretched on account of thy griefs! whither
wilt thou turn? what hospitality, or house, or country wilt thou find a
refuge for these ills? how the Deity hath led thee, Medea, into a pathless
tide of woes!
MED. Ill hath it been done on every side. Who will gainsay it? but these
things are not in this way, do not yet think it. Still is there a contest for
those lately married, and to those allied to them no small affliction. For
dost thou think I ever would have fawned upon this man, if I were not to
gain something, or form some plan? I would not even have addressed
him. I would not even have touched him with my hands. But he hath
arrived at such a height of folly, as that, when it was in his power to have
crushed my plans, by banishing me from this land, he hath granted me to
stay this day in which three of mine enemies will I put to death, the father,
the bride, and my husband. But having in my power many resources of
destruction against them, I know not, my friends, which I shall first
attempt. Whether shall I consume the bridal house with fire, or force the
sharpened sword through her heart having entered the chamber by stealth
where the couch is spread? But one thing is against me; if I should be
caught entering the house and prosecuting my plans, by my death I shall
afford laughter for my foes. Best then is it to pursue the straight path, in
which I am most skilled, to take them off by poison. Let it be so. And
suppose them dead: what city will receive me? What hospitable stranger
affording a land of safety and a faithful home will protect my person?
11
There is none. Waiting then yet a little time, if any tower of safety shall
appear to us, I will proceed to this murder in treachery and silence. But if
ill fortune that leaves me without resource force me, I myself having
grasped the sword, although I should die, will kill them, and will rush to
the extreme height of daring. For never, I swear by my mistress whom I
revere most of all, and have chosen for my assistant, Hecate, who dwells
in the inmost recesses of my house, shall any one of them wring my heart
with grief with impunity. Bitter and mournful to them will I make these
nuptials, and bitter this alliance, and my flight from this land. But come,
spare none of these sciences in which thou art skilled, Medea, deliberating
and plotting. Proceed to the deed of terror: now is the time of resolution:
seest thou what thou art suffering? Ill doth it become thee to incur
ridicule from the race of Sisyphus, and from the nuptials of Jason, who art
sprung from a noble father, and from the sun. And thou art skilled.
Besides also we women are, by nature, to good actions of the least
capacity, but the most cunning inventors of every ill.
CHOR. The waters of the hallowed streams flow upward to their sources,
and justice and every thing is reversed. The counsels of men are
treacherous, and no longer is the faith of heaven firm. But fame changes,
so that my sex may have the glory.ix Honor cometh to the female race; no
longer shall opprobrious fame oppress the women. But the Muses shall
cease from their ancient strains, from celebrating our perfidy. For
Phœbus, leader of the choir, gave not to our minds the heavenly music of
the lyre, since they would in turn have raised a strain against the race of
men. But time of old hath much to say both of our life and the life of
men. But thou hast sailed from thy father's house with maddened heart,
having passed through the double rocks of the ocean, and thou dwellest in
a foreign land, having lost the shelter of thy widowed bed, wretched
woman, and art driven dishonored an exile from this land. The reverence
of oaths is gone, nor does shame any longer dwell in mighty Greece, but
hath fled away through the air. But thou helpless woman hast neither
father's house to afford you haven from your woes, and another more
powerful queen of the nuptial bed rules over the house.
Beck interprets this passage, "Mea quidem vita ut non habeat laudem, fama obstat."
Heath translates it, "Jam in contrariam partem tendens fama efficit, ut mea quoque vita
laudem habeat." We are told by the Scholiast, that by βιοταν is to be understood φυσιν.
ix
12
JASON, MEDEA, CHORUS.
JAS. Not now for the first time, but often have I perceived that fierce
anger is an irremediable ill. For though it was in your power to inhabit this
land and this house, bearing with gentleness the determination of thy
superiors, by thy rash words thou shalt be banished from this land. And
to me indeed it is of no importance; never cease from saying that Jason is
the worst of men. But for what has been said by thee against the royal
family, think it the greatest good fortune that thou art punished by
banishment only. I indeed was always employed in diminishing the anger
of the enraged princes, and was willing that thou shouldest remain. But
thou remittest not of thy folly, always reviling the ruling powers;
wherefore thou shalt be banished from the land. But nevertheless even
after this am I come, not wearied with my friends, providing for thee, O
woman, that thou mightest not be banished with thy children, either
without money, or in want of any thing. Banishment draws many
misfortunes with it. For although thou hatest me, I never could wish thee
evil.
MED. O thou vilest of men (for this is the greatest reproach I have in my
power with my tongue to tell thee, for thy unmanly cowardice), hast thou
come to us, hast thou come, who art most hateful? This is not fortitude,
or confidence, to look in the face of friends whom thou hast injured, but
the worst of all diseases among men, impudence. But thou hast done well
in coming. For both I shall be lightened in my heart while reviling thee,
and thou wilt be pained at hearing me. But I will first begin to speak from
the first circumstances. I preserved thee (as those Greeks well know as
many as embarked with thee on board the same ship Argo) when sent to
master the fire-breathing bulls with the yoke, and to sow the fatal seed:
and having slain the dragon who watching around the golden fleece
guarded it with spiry folds, a sleepless guard, I raised up to thee a light of
safety. But I myself having betrayed my father, and my house, came to the
Peliotic Iolcosx with thee, with more readiness than prudence. And I slew
Pelias by a death which it is most miserable to die, by the hands of his
own children, and I freed thee from every fear. And having experienced
Iolcos was a city of Thessaly, distant about seven stadii from the sea, where the parents
of Jason lived: Pelion was both a mountain and city of Thessaly, close to Iolcos; whence
Iolcos is called Peliotic.
x
13
these services from me, thou vilest of men, thou hast betrayed me and
hast procured for thyself a new bed, children being born to thee, for if
thou wert still childless it would be pardonable in thee to be enamored of
this alliance. But the faith of oaths is vanished: nor can I discover whether
thou thinkest that the former Gods are not still in power, or whether new
laws are now laid down for men, since thou art at least conscious of being
perjured toward me. Alas! this right hand which thou hast often touched,
and these knees, since in vain have I been polluted by a wicked husband,
and have failed in my hopes. Come (for I will converse with thee as with a
friend, not expecting to receive any benefit from thee at least, but
nevertheless I will; for when questioned thou wilt appear more base), now
whither shall I turn? Whether to my father's house, which I betrayed for
thee, and my country, and came hither? or to the miserable daughters of
Pelias? friendly would they indeed receive me in their house, whose father
I slew. For thus it is: I am in enmity with my friends at home; but those
whom I ought not to injure, by obliging thee, I make my enemies. On
which account in return for this thou hast made me to be called happy by
many dames through Greece, and in thee I, wretch that I am, have an
admirable and faithful husband, if cast out at least I shall fly this land,
deserted by my friends, lonely with thy lonely children. Fair renown
indeed to the new married bridegroom, that his children are wandering in
poverty, and I also who preserved thee. O Jove, why I pray hast thou
given to men certain proofs of the gold which is adulterate, but no mark is
set by nature on the person of men by which one may distinguish the bad
man.
CHOR. Dreadful is that anger and irremediable, when friends with friends
kindle strife.
JAS. It befits me, it seems, not to be weak in argument, but as the prudent
pilot of a vessel, with all the sail that can be hoisted, to run from out of
thy violent abuse, O woman. But I, since thou thus much vauntest thy
favors, think that Venus alone both of Gods and men was the protectress
of my voyage. But thou hast a fickle mind, but it is an invidious account
to go through, how love compelled thee with his inevitable arrows to
preserve my life. But I will not follow up arguments with too great
accuracy, for where thou hast assisted me it is well. Moreover thou hast
received more at least from my safety than thou gavest, as I will explain to
thee. First of all thou dwellest in Greece instead of a foreign land, and
thou learnest what justice is, and to enjoy laws, not to be directed by mere
force. And all the Grecians have seen that thou art wise, and thou hast
renown; but if thou wert dwelling in the extreme confines of that land,
14
there would not have been fame of thee. But may neither gold in my
house be be my lot, nor to attune the strain more sweet than Orpheus, if
my fortune be not conspicuous. So much then have I said of my toils; for
thou first broughtest forward this contest of words. But with regard to
those reproaches which thou heapest on me for my royal marriage, in this
will I show first that I have been wise, in the next place moderate, thirdly
a great friend to thee, and my children: but be silent. After I had come
hither from the Iolcian land bringing with me many grievous calamities,
what measure more fortunate than this could I have invented, than, an
exile as I was, to marry the daughter of the monarch? not, by which thou
art grated, loathing thy bed, nor smitten with desire of a new bride, nor
having emulation of a numerous offspring, for those born to me are
sufficient, nor do I find fault with that; but that (which is of the greatest
consequence) we might live honorably, and might not be in want,
knowing well that every friend flies out of the way of a poor man; and
that I might bring up my children worthy of my house, and that having
begotten brothers to those children sprung from thee, I might place them
on the same footing, and having united the family, I might flourish; for
both thou hast some need of children, and to me it were advantageous to
advance my present progeny by means of the children which might arise;
have I determined ill? not even thou couldest say so, if thy bed did not
gall thee. But thus far have you come, that your bed being safe, you
women think that you have every thing. But if any misfortune befall that,
the most excellent and fairest objects you make the most hateful. It were
well then that men should generate children from some other source, and
that the female race should not exist, and thus there would not have been
any evil among men.xi
CHOR. Jason, thou hast well adorned these arguments of thine, but
nevertheless to me, although I speak reluctantly, thou appearest, in
betraying thy wife, to act unjustly.
For the same sentiment more fully expressed, see Hippolytus, 616-625. See also Paradise
Lost, x. 890.
xi
Oh, why did God,
Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven
With spirits masculine, create at last
This novelty on earth, this fair defect
Of nature, and not fill the world at once
With men, as angels, without feminine?
15
MED. Surely I am in many things different from many mortals, for in my
judgment, whatever man being unjust, is deeply skilled in argument,
merits the severest punishment. For vaunting that with his tongue he can
well gloze over injustice, he dares to work deceit, but he is not over-wise.
Thus do not thou also be now plausible to me, nor skilled in speaking, for
one word will overthrow thee: it behooved thee, if thou wert not a bad
man, to have contracted this marriage having persuaded me, and not
without the knowledge of thy friends.
JAS. Well wouldest thou have lent assistance to this report, if I had
mentioned the marriage to thee, who not even now endurest to lay aside
this unabated rage of heart.
MED. This did not move thee, but a foreign bed would lead in its result
to an old age without honor.
JAS. Be well assured of this, that I did not form this alliance with the
princess, which I now hold, for the sake of the woman, but, as I said
before also, wishing to preserve thee, and to beget royal children brothers
to my sons, a support to our house.
MED. Let not a splendid life of bitterness be my lot, nor wealth, which
rends my heart.
JAS. Dost thou know how to alter thy prayers, and appear wiser? Let not
good things ever seem to you bitter, nor when in prosperity seem to be in
adversity.
MED. Insult me, since thou hast refuge, but I destitute shall fly this land.
JAS. Thou chosest this thyself, blame no one else.
MED. By doing what? by marrying and betraying thee?
JAS. By imprecating unhallowed curses on the royal family.
MED. From thy house at least am I laden with curses.
JAS. I will not dispute more of this with thee. But if thou wishest to
receive either for thyself or children any part of my wealth as an assistant
16
on thy flight, speak, since I am ready to give with an unsparing hand, and
to send tokens of hospitality to my friends, who will treat you well; and
refusing these thou wilt be foolish, woman, but ceasing from thine anger,
thou wilt gain better treatment.
MED. I will neither use thy friends, nor will I receive aught; do not give
to me, for the gifts of a bad man bring no assistance.
JAS. Then I call the Gods to witness, that I wish to assist thee and thy
children in every thing; but good things please thee not, but thou rejectest
thy friends with audacity, wherefore shalt thou grieve the more.
MED. Begone, for thou art captured by desire of thy new bride, tarrying
so long without the palace; wed her, for perhaps, but with the assistance
of the God shall it be said, thou wilt make such a marriage alliance, as
thou wilt hereafter wish to renounce.
CHOR. The loves, when they come too impetuously, have given neither
good report nor virtue among men, but if Venus come with moderation,
no other Goddess is so benign. Never, O my mistress, mayest thou send
forth against me from thy golden bow thy inevitable shaft, having steeped
it in desire. But may temperance preserve me, the noblest gift of heaven;
never may dreaded Venus, having smitten my mind for another's bed,
heap upon me jealous passions and unabated quarrels, but approving the
peaceful union, may she quick of perception sit in judgment on the bed of
women. O my country, and my house, never may I be an outcast of my
city, having a life scarce to be endured through poverty, the most
lamentable of all woes. By death, by death, may I before that be subdued,
having lived to accomplish that day; but no greater misfortune is there
than to be deprived of one's paternal country. We have seen it, nor have
we to speak from others' accounts; for thee, neither city nor friend hath
pitied, though suffering the most dreadful anguish. Thankless may he
perish who desires not to assist his friends, having unlocked the pure
treasures of his mind; never shall he be friend to me.
17
ÆGEUS, MEDEA, CHORUS.
ÆG. Medea, hail! for no one hath known a more honorable salutation to
address to friends than this.
MED. Hail thou also, son of the wise Pandion, Ægeus, coming from what
quarter dost thou tread the plain of this land?
ÆG. Having left the ancient oracle of Phœbus.
MED. But wherefore wert thou sent to the prophetic centre of the earth?
ÆG. Inquiring of the God how offspring may arise to me?
MED. By the Gods, tell me, dost thou live this life hitherto childless?
ÆG. Childless I am, by the disposal of some deity.
MED. Hast thou a wife, or knowest thou not the marriage-bed!
ÆG. I am not destitute of the connubial bed.
MED. What then did Apollo tell thee respecting thy offspring?
ÆG. Words deeper than a man can form opinion of.
MED. Is it allowable for me to know the oracle of the God?
ÆG. Certainly, inasmuch as it needs also a deep-skilled mind.
MED. What then did he say? Speak, if I may hear.
ÆG. That I was not to loose the projecting foot of the vessel—
MED. Before thou didst what, or came to what land?
ÆG. Before I revisit my paternal hearth.
MED. Then as desiring what dost thou direct thy voyage to this land?
18
ÆG. There is one Pittheus, king of the country of Trazene.
MED. The most pious son, as report says, of Pelops.
ÆG. To him I wish to communicate the oracle of the God.
MED. For he is a wise man, and versed in such matters.
ÆG. And to me at least the dearest of all my friends in war.
MED. Mayest thou prosper, and obtain what thou desirest.
ÆG. But why is thine eye and thy color thus faded?
MED. Ægeus, my husband is the worst of all men.
ÆG. What sayest thou? tell me all thy troubles.
MED. Jason wrongs me, having never suffered wrong from me.
ÆG. Having done what? tell me more clearly.
MED. He hath here a wife besides me, mistress of the house.
ÆG. Hath he dared to commit this disgraceful action?
MED. Be assured he has; but we his former friends are dishonored.
ÆG. Enamored of her, or hating thy bed?
MED. [Smitten with] violent love indeed, he was faithless to his friends.
ÆG. Let him perish then, since, as you say, he is a bad man.
MED. He was charmed to receive an alliance with princes.
ÆG. And who gives the bride to him? finish the account, I beg.
MED. Creon, who is monarch of this Corinthian land.
19
ÆG. Pardonable was it then that thou art grieved, O lady.
MED. I perish, and in addition to this am I banished from this land.
ÆG. By whom? thou art mentioning another fresh misfortune.
MED. Creon drives me an exile out of this land of Corinth.
ÆG. And does Jason suffer it? I praise not this.
MED. By his words he does not, but at heart he wishes [to endure my
banishment:] but by this thy beard I entreat thee, and by these thy knees,
and I become thy suppliant, pity me, pity this unfortunate woman, nor
behold me going forth in exile abandoned, but receive me at thy hearth in
thy country and thy house. Thus by the Gods shall thy desire of children
be accomplished to thee, and thou thyself shalt die in happiness. But thou
knowest not what this fortune is that thou hast found; but I will free thee
from being childless, and I will cause thee to raise up offspring, such
charms I know.
ÆG. On many accounts, O lady, am I willing to confer this favor on thee,
first on account of the Gods, then of the children, whose birth thou
holdest forth; for on this point else I am totally sunk in despair. But thus
am I determined: if thou comest to my country, I will endeavor to receive
thee with hospitality, being a just man; so much however I beforehand
apprise thee of, O lady, I shall not be willing to lead thee with me from
this land; but if thou comest thyself to my house, thou shalt stay there in
safety, and to no one will I give thee up. But do thou of thyself withdraw
thy foot from this country, for I wish to be without blame even among
strangers.
MED. It shall be so, but if there was a pledge of this given to me, I should
have all things from thee in a noble manner.
ÆG. Dost thou not trust me? what is thy difficulty?
MED. I trust thee; but the house of Pelias is mine enemy, and Creon too;
to these then, wert thou bound by oaths, thou wouldest not give me up
from the country, should they attempt to drag me thence. But having
20
agreed by words alone, and without calling the Gods to witness, thou
mightest be their friend, and perhaps be persuaded by an embassy; for
weak is my state, but theirs are riches, and a royal house.
ÆG. Thou hast spoken much prudence, O lady. But if it seems fit to thee
that I should do this, I refuse not. For to me also this seems the safest
plan, that I should have some pretext to show to your enemies, and thy
safety is better secured; propose the Gods that I am to invoke.
MED. Swear by the earth, and by the sun the father of my father, and join
the whole race of Gods.
ÆG. That I will do what thing, or what not do? speak.
MED. That thou wilt neither thyself ever cast me forth from out of thy
country, nor, if any one of my enemies desire to drag me thence, that thou
wilt, while living, give me up willingly.
ÆG. I swear by the earth, and the hallowed majesty of the sun, and by all
the Gods, to abide by what I hear from thee.
MED. It is sufficient: but what wilt thou endure shouldest thou not abide
by this oath?
ÆG. That which befalls impious men.
MED. Go with blessings; for every thing is well. And I will come as quick
as possible to thy city, having performed what I intend, and having
obtained what I desire.
CHOR. But may the son of Maia the king, the guide, conduct thee safely
to thy house, and the plans of those things, which thou anxiously keepest
in thy mind, mayest thou bring to completion, since, Ægeus, thou hast
appeared to us to be a noble man.
21
MEDEA, CHORUS.
MED. O Jove, and thou vengeance of Jove, and thou light of the sun,
now, my friends, shall I obtain a splendid victory over my enemies, and I
have struck into the path. Now is there hope that my enemies will suffer
punishment. For this man, where I was most at a loss, hath appeared a
harbor to my plans. From him will I make fast my cable from the stern,
having come to the town and citadel of Pallas. But now will I
communicate all my plans to thee; but receive my words not as attuned to
pleasure. Having sent one of my domestics, I will ask Jason to come into
my presence; and when he is come, I will address gentle words to him, as
that it appears to me that these his actions are both honorable, and are
advantageous and well determined on. And I will entreat him that my
sons may stay; not that I would leave my children in a hostile country for
my enemies to insult, but that by deceit I may slay the king's daughter. For
I will send them bearing presents in their hands, both a fine-wrought
robe, and a golden-twined wreath.xii And if she take the ornaments and
place them round her person, she shall perish miserably, and every one
who shall touch the damsel; with such charms will I anoint the presents.
Here however I finish this account; but I bewail the deed such as must
next be done by me; for I shall slay my children; there is no one who shall
rescue them from me; and having heaped in ruins the whole house of
Jason, I will go from out this land, flying the murder of my dearest
children, and having dared a deed most unhallowed. For it is not to be
borne, my friends, to be derided by one's enemies. Let things take their
course; what gain is it to me to live longer? I have neither country, nor
house, nor refuge from my ills. Then erred I, when I left my father's
house, persuaded by the words of a Grecian man, who with the will of the
Gods shall suffer punishment from me. For neither shall he ever hereafter
behold the children he had by me alive, nor shall he raise a child by his
new wedded wife, since it is fated that the wretch should wretchedly
perish by my spells. Let no one think me mean-spirited and weak, nor of a
gentle temper, but of a contrary disposition to my foes relentless, and to
my friends kind: for the lives of such sort are most glorious.
In Elmsley this line is omitted, and instead of it is inserted: "νυμφηι φεροντας, τηνδε μη
φευγειν χθονα," that is, "offering them to the bride, that they may not be banished from
this country," which Dindorf retains, and brackets the other.
xii
22
CHOR. Since thou hast communicated this plan to me, desirous both of
doing good to thee, and assisting the laws of mortals, I dissuade thee from
doing this.
MED. It can not be otherwise, but it is pardonable in thee to say this, not
suffering the cruel treatment that I do.
CHOR. But wilt thou dare to slay thy two sons, O lady?
MED. For in this way will my husband be most afflicted.
CHOR. But thou at least wilt be the most wretched woman.
MED. Be that as it may: all intervening words are superfluous; but go,
hasten, and bring Jason hither; for I make use of thee in all matters of
trust. And thou wilt mention nothing of the plans determined on by me, if
at least thou meanest well to thy mistress, and art a woman.
CHOR. The Athenians happy of old, and the descendants of the blessed
Gods, feeding on the most exalted wisdom of a country sacred and
unconquered, always tripping elegantly through the purest atmosphere,
where they say that of old the golden-haired Harmonia gave birth to the
chaste nine Pierian Muses. And they report also that Venus drawing in her
breath from the stream of the fair-flowing Cephisus, breathed over their
country gentle sweetly-breathing gales of air; and always entwining in her
hair the fragrant wreath of roses, sends the loves as assessors to wisdom;
the assistants of every virtue. How then will the city of hallowed rivers, or
the country which conducts thee to friends, receive the murderer of her
children, the unholy one? Consider in conjunction with others of the
slaughter of thy children, consider what a murder thou wilt undertake. Do
not by thy knees, by every plea, by every prayer, we entreat you, do not
murder your children; but how wilt thou acquire confidence either of
mind or hand or in heart against thy children, attempting a dreadful deed
of boldness? But how, having darted thine eyes upon thy children, wilt
thou endure the perpetration of the murder without tears? Thou wilt
23
notxiii be able, when thy children fall suppliant at thy feet, to imbrue thy
savage hand in their wretched life-blood.
JASON, MEDEA, CHORUS.
JAS. I am come, by thee requested; for although thou art enraged, thou
shalt not be deprived of this at least; but I will hear what new service thou
dost desire of me, lady.
MED. Jason, I entreat you to be forgiving of what has been said, but right
is it that you should bear with my anger, since many friendly acts have
been done by us two. But I reasoned with myself and rebuked myself;
wayward woman, why am I maddened and am enraged with those who
consult well for me? and why am I in enmity with the princes of the land
and with my husband, who is acting in the most advantageous manner for
us, having married a princess, and begetting brothers to my children? Shall
I not cease from my rage? What injury do I suffer, the Gods providing
well for me? Have I not children? And I know that I am flying the
country, and am in want of friends. Revolving this in my mind I perceive
that I had much imprudence, and was enraged without reason. Now then
I approve of this, and thou appearest to me to be prudent, having added
this alliance to us; but I was foolish, who ought to share in these plans,
and to join in adorning and to stand by the bed, and to delight with thee
that thy bride was enamored of thee; but we women are as we are, I will
not speak evil of the sex; wherefore it is not right that you should put
yourself on an equality with the evil, nor repay folly for folly. I give up,
and say that then I erred in judgment, but now I have determined on
these things better. O my children, my children, come forth, leave the
house, come forth, salute, and address your father with me, and be
reconciled to your friends from your former hatred together with your
mother. For there is amity between us, and my rage hath ceased. Take his
right hand. Alas! my misfortunes; how I feel some hidden ill in my mind!
Will ye, my children, in this manner, and for a long time enjoying life,
stretch out your dear hands? Wretch that I am! how near am I to weeping
and full of fear!—But at last canceling this dispute with your father, I have
filled thus my tender sight with tears.
Elmsley reads ‛η δυνασει with the note of interrogation after θυμωι; "or how wilt thou be
able," etc.
xiii
24
CHOR. In my eyes also the moist tear is arisen; and may not the evil
advance to a greater height than it is at present.
JAS. I approve of this, lady, nor do I blame the past; for it is reasonable
that the female sex be enraged with a husband who barters them for
another union.—But thy heart has changed to the more proper side, and
thou hast discovered, but after some time, the better counsel: these are
the actions of a wise woman. But for you, my sons, your father not
without thought hath formed many provident plans, with the assistance of
the Gods. For I think that you will be yet the first in this Corinthian
country, together with your brothers. But advance and prosper: and the
rest your father, and whatever God is propitious, will effect. And may I
behold you blooming arrive at the prime of youth, superior to my
enemies. And thou, why dost thou bedew thine eyes with the moist tear,
having turned aside thy white cheek, and why dost thou not receive these
words from me with pleasure?
MED. It is nothing. I was thinking of my sons.
JAS. Be of good courage; for I will arange well for them.
MED. I will be so, I will not mistrust thy words; but a woman is of soft
mould, and was born to tears.
JAS. Why, I pray, dost thou so grieve for thy children?
MED. I brought them into the world, and when thou wert praying that
thy children might live, a feeling of pity came upon me if that would be.
But for what cause thou hast come to a conference with me, partly hath
been explained, but the other reasons I will mention. Since it appeareth fit
to the royal family to send me from this country, for me also this appears
best, I know it well, that I might not dwell here, a check either to thee or
to the princes of the land; for I seem to be an object of enmity to the
house; I indeed will set out from this land in flight; but to the end that the
children may be brought up by thy hand, entreat Creon that they may not
leave this land.
JAS. I know not whether I shall persuade him; but it is right to try.
25
MED. But do thou then exhort thy bride to ask her father, that my
children may not leave this country.
JAS. Certainly I will, and I think at least that she will persuade him, if
indeed she be one of the female sex.
MED. I also will assist you in this task, for I will send to her presents
which (I well know) far surpass in beauty any now among men, both a
fine-wrought robe, and a golden-twined chaplet, my sons carrying them.
But as quick as possible let one of my attendants bring hither these
ornaments. Thy bride shall be blessed not in one instance, but in many,
having met with you at least the best of husbands, and possessing
ornaments which the sun my father's father once gave to his descendants.
Take these nuptial presents, my sons, in your hands, and bear and present
them to the blessed royal bride; she shall receive gifts not indeed to be
despised.
JAS. Why, O fond woman, dost thou rob thy hands of these; thinkest
thou that the royal palace is in want of vests? in want of gold? keep these
presents, give them not away; for if the lady esteems me of any value, she
will prefer pleasing me to riches, I know full well.
MED. But do not oppose me; gifts, they say, persuade even the Gods, xiv
and gold is more powerful than a thousand arguments to men. Hers is
fortune, her substance the God now increases, she in youth governs all.
But the sentence of banishment on my children I would buy off with my
life, not with gold alone. But my children, enter you the wealthy palace, to
the new bride of your father, and my mistress, entreat her, beseech her,
that you may not leave the land, presenting these ornaments; but this is of
the greatest consequence, that, she receive these gifts in her own hand.
Go as quick as possible, and may you be bearers of good tidings to your
mother in what she desires to obtain, having succeeded favorably.
CHOR. Now no longer have I any hope of life for the children, no longer
[is there hope]; for already are they going to death. The bride shall receive
the destructive present of the golden chaplet, she wretched shall receive
An allusion to that well-known saying in Plato, de Repub. 1. 3. Δωρα θεους πειθει, δωρ'
αιδοιους βασιληας. Ovid. de Arte Am. iii. 635. Munera, crede mini, capiunt hominesque
deosque.
xiv
26
them, and around her golden tresses shall she place the attire of death,
having received the presents in her hands. The beauty and the divine
glitter of the robe will persuade her to place around her head the goldenwrought chaplet. Already with the dead shall the bride be adorned; into
such a net will she fall, and such a destiny will she, hapless woman, meet
with; nor will she escape her fate. But thou, oh unhappy man! oh
wretched bridegroom! son-in-law of princes, unknowingly thou bringest
on thy children destruction, and on thy wife a bitter death; hapless man,
how much art thou fallen from thy state! But I lament for thy grief, O
wretch, mother of these children, who wilt murder thy sons on account of
a bridal-bed; deserting which, in defiance of thee, thy husband dwells with
another wife.
TUTOR, MEDEA, CHORUS.
TUT. Thy sons, my mistress, are reprieved from banishment, and the
royal bride received thy presents in her hands with pleasure, and hence is
peace to thy children.
MED. Ah!
TUT. Why dost thou stand in confusion, when thou art fortunate?
MED. Alas! alas!
TUT. This behavior is not consonant with the message I have brought
thee.
MED. Alas! again.
TUT. Have I reported any ill fortune unknowingly, and have I failed in
my hope of being the messenger of good?
MED. Thou hast said what thou hast said, I blame not thee.
TUT. Why then dost thou bend down thine eye, and shed tears?
27
MED. Strong necessity compels me, O aged man, for this the Gods and I
deliberating ill have contrived.
TUT. Be of good courage; thou also wilt return home yet through thy
children.
MED. Others first will I send to their home,xv O wretched me!
TUT. Thou art not the only one who art separated from thy children; it
behooves a mortal to bear calamities with meekness.
MED. I will do so; but go within the house, and prepare for the children
what is needful for the day. O my sons, my sons, you have indeed a city,
and a house, in which having forsaken me miserable, you shall dwell, ever
deprived of a mother. But I am now going an exile into a foreign land,
before I could have delight in you, and see you flourishing, before I could
adorn your marriage, and wife, and nuptial-bed, and hold up the torch. xvi
O unfortunate woman that I am, on account of my wayward temper. In
vain then, my children, have I brought you up, in vain have I toiled, and
been consumed with cares, suffering the strong agonies of child-bearing.
Surely once there was a time when I hapless woman had many hopes in
you, that you would both tend me in my age, and when dead would with
your hands decently compose my limbs, a thing desired by men. But now
this pleasing thought hath indeed perished; for deprived of you I shall
pass a life of misery, and bitter to myself. But you will no longer behold
your mother with your dear eyes, having passed into another state of life.
Alas! alas! why do you look upon me with your eyes, my children? Why do
ye smile that last smile? Alas! alas! what shall I do? for my heart is sinking.
Ye females, when I behold the cheerful look of my children, I have no
power. Farewell my counsels: I will take my children with me from this
land. What does it avail me grieving their father with the ills of these, to
acquire twice as much pain for myself? never will I at least do this.
Farewell my counsels. And yet what do I suffer? do I wish to incur
ridicule, having left my foes unpunished? This must be dared. But the
bringing forward words of tenderness in my mind arises also from my
cowardice. Go, my children, into the house; and he for whom it is not
Medea here makes use of the ambiguous word καταξω, which may be understood by the
Tutor in the sense of "bringing back to their country," but implies also the horrid purpose
of destroying her children: τοδε 'καταξω' αντι του πεμψω εις τον Αιδην, as the Scholiast
explains it.
xv
It was the custom for mothers to bear lighted torches at their children's nuptials. See
Iphig. Aul. l. 372.
xvi
28
lawful to be present at my sacrifice, let him take care himself to keep
away. But I will not stain my hand. Alas! alas! do not thou then, my soul,
do not thou at least perpetrate this. Let them escape, thou wretch, spare
thy sons. There shall they live with us and delight thee. No, I swear by the
infernal deities who dwell with Pluto, never shall this be, that I will give
up my children to be insulted by my enemies. [At all events they must die,
and since they must, I who brought them into the world will perpetrate
the deed.] This is fully determined by fate, and shall not pass away. And
now the chaplet is on her head, and the bride is perishing in the robes; of
this I am well assured. But, since I am now going a most dismal path, and
these will I send by one still more dismal, I desire to address my children:
give, my sons, give thy right hand for thy mother to kiss. O most dear
hand, and those lips dearest to me, and that form and noble countenance
of my children, be ye blessed, but there; xvii for every thing here your father
hath taken away. O the sweet embrace, and that soft skin, and that most
fragrant breath of my children. Go, go; no longer am I able to look upon
you, but am overcome by my ills. I know indeed the ills that I am about to
dare, but my rage is master of my counsels, which is indeed the cause of
the greatest calamities to men.
CHOR. Already have I often gone through more refined reasonings, and
have come to greater arguments than suits the female mind to investigate;
for we also have a muse, which dwelleth with us, for the sake of teaching
wisdom; but not with all, for haply thou wilt find but a small number of
the race of women out of many not ungifted with the muse.
And I say that those men who are entirely free from wedlock, and have
not begotten children, surpass in happiness those who have families;
those indeed who are childless, through inexperience whether children are
born a joy or anguish to men, not having them themselves, are exempt
from much misery. But those who have a sweet blooming offspring of
children in their house, I behold worn with care the whole time; first of all
how they shall bring them up honorably, and how they shall leave means
of sustenance for their children. And still after this, whether they are
toiling for bad or good sons, this is still in darkness. But one ill to mortals,
the last of all, I now will mention. For suppose they have both found
sufficient store, and the bodies of their children have arrived at manhood,
and that they are good; but if this fortune shall happen to them, death,
xvii
But there; that is, in the regions below.
29
bearing away their sons, vanishes with them to the shades of darkness.
How then does it profit that the Gods heap on mortals yet this grief in
addition to others, the most bitter of all, for the sake of children?
MEDEA, MESSENGER, CHORUS.
MED. For a long time waiting for the event, my friends, I am anxiously
expecting what will be the result thence. And I see indeed one of the
domestics of Jason coming hither, and his quickened breath shows that he
will be the messenger of some new ill.
MESS. O thou, that hast impiously perpetrated a deed of terror, Medea,
fly, fly, leaving neither the ocean chariot, nor the car whirling o'er the
plain.
MED. But what is done that requires this flight?
MESS. The princess is just dead, and Creon her father destroyed by thy
charms.
MED. Thou hast spoken most glad tidings: and hereafter from this time
shalt thou be among my benefactors and friends.
MESS. What sayest thou? Art thou in thy senses, and not mad, lady? who
having destroyed the king and family, rejoicest at hearing it, and fearest
not such things?
MED. I also have something to say to these words of thine at least; but be
not hasty, my friend; but tell me how they perished, for twice as much
delight wilt thou give me if they died miserably.
MESS. As soon as thy two sons were come with their father, and had
entered the bridal house, we servants, who were grieved at thy
misfortunes, were delighted; and immediately there was much
conversation in our ears, that thy husband and thou had brought the
former quarrel to a friendly termination. One kissed the hand, another the
auburn head of thy sons, and I also myself followed with them to the
women's apartments through joy. But my mistress, whom we now
reverence instead of thee, before she saw thy two sons enter, held her
30
cheerful eyes fixed on Jason; afterward however she covered her eyes, and
turned aside her white cheek, disgusted at the entrance of thy sons; but
thy husband quelled the anger and rage of the young bride, saying this; Be
not angry with thy friends, but cease from thy rage, and turn again thy
face, esteeming those as friends, whom thy husband does. But receive the
gifts, and ask thy father to give up the sentence of banishment against
these children for my sake. But when she saw the ornaments, she refused
not, but promised her husband every thing; and before thy sons and their
father were gone far from the house, she took and put on the variegated
robes, and having placed the golden chaplet around her tresses she
arranges her hair in the radiant mirror, smiling at the lifeless image of her
person. And after, having risen from her seat, she goes across the
chamber, elegantly tripping with snow-white foot; rejoicing greatly in the
presents, looking much and oftentimes with her eyes on her outstretched
neck. After that however there was a sight of horror to behold. For
having changed color, she goes staggering back trembling in her limbs,
and is scarce in time to prevent herself from falling on the ground, by
sinking into a chair. And some aged female attendant, when she thought
that the wrath either of Pan or some other Deityxviii had visited her,
offered up the invocation, before at least she sees the white foam bursting
from her mouth, and her mistress rolling her eyeballs from their sockets,
and the blood no longer in the flesh; then she sent forth a loud shriek of
far different sound from the strain of supplication; and straightway one
rushed to the apartments of her father, but another to her newly-married
husband, to tell the calamity befallen the bride, and all the house was filled
with frequent hurryings to and fro. And by this time a swift runner,
exerting his limbs, might have reached the goal of the course of six
plethra; but she, wretched woman, from being speechless, and from a
closed eye having groaned deeply writhed in agony; for a double pest was
warring against her. The golden chaplet indeed placed on her head was
sending forth a stream of all-devouring fire wonderful to behold, but the
fine-wrought robes, the presents of thy sons, were devouring the white
flesh of the hapless woman. But she having started from her seat flies, all
on fire, tossing her hair and head on this side and that side, desirous of
shaking off the chaplet; but the golden wreath firmly kept its hold; but the
fire, when she shook her hair, blazed out with double fury, and she sinks
upon the ground overcome by her sufferings, difficult for any one except
her father to recognize. For neither was the expression of her eyes clear,
The ancients attributed all sudden terrors, and sudden sicknesses, such as epilepsies, for
which no cause appeared, to Pan, or to some other Deity. The anger of the God they
endeavored to avert by a hymn, which had the nature of a charm.
xviii
31
nor her noble countenance; but the blood was dropping from the top of
her head mixed with fire. But her flesh was dropping off her bones, as the
tear from the pine-tree, by the hidden fangs of the poison; a sight of
horror. But all feared to touch the body, for we had her fate to warn us.
But the hapless father, through ignorance of her suffering, having come
with haste into the apartment, falls on the corpse, and groans immediately;
and having folded his arms round her, kisses her, saying these words; O
miserable child, what Deity hath thus cruelly destroyed thee? who makes
an aged father bowing to the tomb bereaved of thee? Alas me! let me die
with thee, my child. But after he had ceased from his lamentations and
cries, desiring to raise his aged body, he was held, as the ivy by the boughs
of the laurel, by the fine-wrought robes; and dreadful was the struggle, for
he wished to raise his knee, but she held him back; but if he drew himself
away by force he tore the aged flesh from his bones. But at length the
wretched man swooned away, and gave up his life; for no longer was he
able to endure the agony. But they lie corses, the daughter and aged father
near one another; a calamity that demands tears. And let thy affairs indeed
be not matter for my words; for thou thyself wilt know a refuge from
punishment. But the affairs of mortals not now for the first time I deem a
shadow, and I would venture to say that those persons who seem to be
wise and are researchers of arguments, these I say, run into the greatest
folly. For no mortal man is happy; but wealth pouring in, one man may be
more fortunate than another, but happy he can not be.
CHOR. The Deity, it seems, will in this day justly heap on Jason a variety
of ills. O hapless lady, how we pity thy sufferings, daughter of Creon, who
art gone to the house of darkness, through thy marriage with Jason.
MED. The deed is determined on by me, my friends, to slay my children
as soon as possible, and to hasten from this land; and not by delaying to
give my sons for another hand more hostile to murder. But come, be
armed, my heart; why do we delay to do dreadful but necessary deeds?
Come, O wretched hand of mine, grasp the sword, grasp it, advance to
the bitter goal of life, and be not cowardly, nor remember thy children
how dear they are, how thou broughtest them into the world; but for this
short day at least forget thy children; hereafter lament. For although thou
slayest them, nevertheless they at least were dear, but I a wretched
woman.
CHOR. O thou earth, and thou all-illuming beam of the sun, look down
upon, behold this abandoned woman, before she move her blood-stained
32
hand itself about to inflict the blow against her children; for from thy
golden race they sprung; but fearful is it for the blood of Gods to fall by
the hand of man. But do thou, O heaven-born light, restrain her, stop her,
remove from this house this blood-stained and miserable Erinnys agitated
by the Furies. The care of thy children perishes in vain, and in vain hast
thou produced a dear race, O thou who didst leave the most inhospitable
entrance of the Cyanean rocks, the Symplegades. Hapless woman, why
does such grievous rage settle on thy mind; and hostile slaughter ensue?
For kindred pollutions are difficult of purification to mortals;
correspondent calamities falling from the Gods to the earth upon the
houses of the murderers.
FIRST SON. (within) Alas! what shall I do? whither shall I fly from my
mother's hand?
SECOND SON. I know not, dearest brother, for we perish.
CHOR. Hearest thou the cry? hearest thou the children? O wretch, O illfated woman! Shall I enter the house? It seems right to me to ward off the
murderous blow from the children.
SONS. Nay, by the Gods assist us, for it is in needful time; since now at
least are we near the destruction of the sword.
CHOR. Miserable woman, art thou then a rock, or iron, who cuttest
down with death by thine own hand the fair crop of children which thou
producedst thyself? one indeed I hear of, one woman of those of old, who
laid violent hands on her children, Ino, maddened by the Gods when the
wife of Jove sent her in banishment from her home; and she miserable
woman falls into the sea through the impious murder of her children,
directing her foot over the sea-shore, and dying with her two sons, there
she perished! what then I pray can be more dreadful than this? O thou
bed of woman, fruitful in ills, how many evils hast thou already brought to
men!
33
JASON, CHORUS.
JAS. Ye females, who stand near this mansion, is she who hath done these
deeds of horror, Medea, in this house; or hath she withdrawn herself in
flight? For now it is necessary for her either to be hidden beneath the
earth, or to raise her winged body into the vast expanse of air, if she
would not suffer vengeance from the king's house. Does she trust that
after having slain the princes of this land, she shall herself escape from
this house with impunity?—But I have not such care for her as for my
children; for they whom she has injured will punish her. But I came to
preserve my children's life, lest [Creon's] relations by birth do any injury,
avenging the impious murder perpetrated by their mother.
CHOR. Unhappy man! thou knowest not at what misery thou hast
arrived, Jason, or else thou wouldest not have uttered these words.
JAS. What is this, did she wish to slay me also?
CHOR. Thy children are dead by their mother's hand.
JAS. Alas me! What wilt thou say? how hast thou killed me, woman!
CHOR. Think now of thy sons as no longer living.
JAS. Where did she slay them, within or without the house?
CHOR. Open those doors, and thou wilt see the slaughter of thy sons.
JAS. Undo the bars, as quick as possible, attendants; unloose the hinges,
that I may see this double evil, my sons slain, and may punish her.
MED. Why dost thou shake and unbolt these gates, seeking the dead and
me who did the deed. Cease from this labor; but if thou wantest aught
with me, speak if thou wishest any thing; but never shall thou touch me
with thy hands; such a chariot the sun my father's father gives me, a
defense from the hostile hand.xix
Here Medea appears above in a chariot drawn by dragons, bearing with her the bodies
of her slaughtered sons. SCHOL. See Horace, Epod. 3.
xix
34
JAS. O thou abomination! thou most detested woman, both by the Gods
and by me, and by all the race of man; who hast dared to plunge the
sword in thine own children, thou who bore them, and hast destroyed me
childless. And having done this thou beholdest both the sun and the
earth, having dared a most impious deed. Mayest thou perish! but I am
now wise, not being so then when I brought thee from thy house and
from a foreign land to a Grecian habitation, a great pest, traitress to thy
father and the land that nurtured thee. But the Gods have sent thy evil
genius on me. For having slain thy brother at the altar, thou embarkedst
on board the gallant vessel Argo. Thou begannest indeed with such deeds
as these; and being wedded to me, and bearing me children, thou hast
destroyed them on account of another bed and marriage. There is not one
Grecian woman who would have dared a deed like this, in preference to
whom at least, I thought worthy to wed thee, an alliance hateful and
destructive to me, a lioness, no woman, having a nature more savage than
the Tuscan Scylla. But I can not gall thy heart with ten thousand
reproaches, such shameless confidence is implanted in thee. Go, thou
worker of ill, and stained with the blood of thy children. But for me it
remains to bewail my fate, who shall neither enjoy my new nuptials, nor
shall I have it in my power to address while alive my sons whom I begot
and educated, but I have lost them.
MED. Surely I could make long reply to these words, if the Sire Jupiter
did not know what treatment thou receivedst from me, and what thou
didst in return; but you were mistaken, when you expected, having
dishonored my bed, to lead a life of pleasure, mocking me, and so was the
princess, and so was Creon, who proposed the match to thee, when he
expected to drive me from this land with impunity. Wherefore, if thou
wilt, call me lioness, and Scylla who dwelt in the Tuscan plain. For thy
heart, as is right, I have wounded.
JAS. And thou thyself grievest at least, and art a sharer in these ills.
MED. Be assured of that; but this lessens the grief, that thou canst not
mock me.
JAS. My children, what a wicked mother have ye found!
MED. My sons, how did ye perish by your father's fault!
35
JAS. Nevertheless my hand slew them not.
MED. But injury, and thy new nuptials.
JAS. And on account of thy bed didst thou think fit to slay them?
MED. Dost thou deem this a slight evil to a woman?
JAS. Whoever at least is modest; but in thee is every ill.
MED. These are no longer living, for this will gall thee.
JAS. These are living, alas me! avenging furies on thy head.
MED. The Gods know who began the injury.
JAS. They know indeed thy execrable mind.
Meo. Thou art hateful to me, and I detest thy bitter speech.
JAS. And I in sooth thine; the separation at least is without pain.
MED. How then? what shall I do? for I also am very desirous.
JAS. Suffer me, I beg, to bury and mourn over these dead bodies.
MED. Never indeed; since I will bury them with this hand bearing them
to the shrine of Juno, the Goddess guardian of the citadel, that no one of
my enemies may insult them, tearing up their graves. But in this land of
Sisyphus will I institute in addition to this a solemn festival and sacrifices
hereafter to expiate this unhallowed murder. But I myself will go to the
land of Erectheus, to dwell with Ægeus son of Pandion. But thou, wretch,
as is fit, shalt die wretchedly, struck on thy head with a relic of thy ship
Argo, having seen the bitter end of my marriage.
JAS. But may the Fury of the children, and Justice the avenger of murder,
destroy thee.
MED. But what God or Deity hears thee, thou perjured man, and traitor
to the rights of hospitality?
36
JAS. Ah! thou abominable woman, and murderer of thy children.
MED. Go to thy home, and bury thy wife.
JAS. I go, even deprived of both my children.
MED. Thou dost not yet mourn enough: stay and grow old.
JAS. Oh my dearest sons!
MED. To their mother at least, but not to thee.
JAS. And yet thou slewest them.
MED. To grieve thee.
JAS. Alas, alas! I hapless man long to kiss the dear mouths of my children.
MED. Now them addressest, now salutest them, formerly rejecting them
with scorn.
JAS. Grant me, by the Gods, to touch the soft skin of my sons.
MED. It is not possible. Thy words are thrown away in vain.
JAS. Dost thou hear this, O Jove, how I am rejected, and what I suffer
from this accursed and child-destroying lioness? But as much indeed as is
in my power and I am able, I lament and mourn over these; calling the
Gods to witness, that having slain my children, thou preventest me from
touching them with my hands, and from burying the bodies, whom, oh
that I had never begotten, and seen them thus destroyed by thee.
CHOR. Jove is the dispenser of various fates in heaven, and the Gods
perform many things contrary to our expectations, and those things which
we looked for are not accomplished; but the God hath brought to pass
things unthought of. In such manner hath this affair ended.
THE END.
37
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The Trojan Women
Euripides
TRANS. BY GILBERT MURRAY
PREFACE
by FRANCIS H. STODDARD
In his clear preface, Gilbert Murray says with truth that The Trojan Women,
valued by the usage of the stage, is not a perfect play. "It is only the crying
of one of the great wrongs of the world wrought into music." Yet it is one
of the greater dramas of the elder world. In one situation, with little
movement, with few figures, it flashes out a great dramatic lesson, the
infinite pathos of a successful wrong. It has in it the very soul of the
tragic. It even goes beyond the limited tragic, and hints that beyond the
defeat may come a greater glory than will be the fortune of the victors.
And thus through its pity and terror it purifies our souls to thoughts of
peace.
Great art has no limits of locality or time. Its tidings are timeless, and its
messages are universal. The Trojan Women was first performed in 415 B.C.,
from a story of the siege of Troy which even then was ancient history. But
the pathos of it is as modern to us as it was to the Athenians. The terrors
of war have not changed in three thousand years. Euripides had that to
say of war which we have to say of it to-day, and had learned that which
we are even now learning, that when most triumphant it brings as much
wretchedness to the victors as to the vanquished. In this play the great
conquest "seems to be a great joy and is in truth a great misery." The
tragedy of war has in no essential altered. The god Poseidon mourns over
Troy as he might over the cities of to-day, when he cries:
"How are ye blind,
Ye treaders down of cities, ye that cast
Temples to desolation, and lay waste
Tombs, the untrodden sanctuaries where lie
The ancient dead; yourselves so soon to die!"
To the cities of this present day might the prophetess Cassandra speak her
message:
"Would ye be wise, ye Cities, fly from war!
Yet if war come, there is a crown in death
For her that striveth well and perisheth
Unstained: to die in evil were the stain!"
A throb of human sympathy as if with one of our sisters of to-day comes
to us at the end, when the city is destroyed and its queen would throw
herself, living, into its flames. To be of the action of this play the
imagination needs not to travel back over three thousand years of history.
It can simply leap a thousand leagues of ocean.
If ever wars are to be ended, the imagination of man must end them. To
the common mind, in spite of all its horrors, there is still something
glorious in war. Preachers have preached against it in vain; economists
have argued against its wastefulness in vain. The imagination of a great
poet alone can finally show to the imagination of the world that even the
glories of war are an empty delusion. Euripides shows us, as the centre of
his drama, women battered and broken by inconceivable torture—the
widowed Hecuba, Andromache with her child dashed to death, Cassandra
ravished and made mad—yet does he show that theirs are the
unconquered and unconquerable spirits. The victorious men, flushed with
pride, have remorse and mockery dealt out to them by those they fought
for, and go forth to unpitied death. Never surely can a great tragedy seem
more real to us, or purge our souls more truly of the unreality of our
thoughts and feelings concerning vital issues, than can The Trojan
Women at this moment of the history of the world.
40
EURIPIDES: THE TROJAN WOMEN
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
by GILBERT MURRAY
Judged by common standards, the Troädes is far from a perfect play; it is
scarcely even a good play. It is an intense study of one great situation,
with little plot, little construction, little or no relief or variety. The only
movement of the drama is a gradual extinguishing of all the familiar lights
of human life, with, perhaps, at the end, a suggestion that in the utterness
of night, when all fears of a possible worse thing are passed, there is in
some sense peace and even glory. But the situation itself has at least this
dramatic value, that it is different from what it seems.
The consummation of a great conquest, a thing celebrated in paeans and
thanksgivings, the very height of the day-dreams of unregenerate man—it
seems to be a great joy, and it is in truth a great misery. It is conquest seen
when the thrill of battle is over, and nothing remains but to wait and
think. We feel in the background the presence of the conquerors, sinister
and disappointed phantoms; of the conquered men, after long torment,
now resting in death. But the living drama for Euripides lay in the
conquered women. It is from them that he has named his play and built
up his scheme of parts: four figures clearly lit and heroic, the others in
varying grades of characterisation, nameless and barely articulate, mere
half-heard voices of an eternal sorrow.
Indeed, the most usual condemnation of the play is not that it is dull, but
that it is too harrowing; that scene after scene passes beyond the due
limits of tragic art. There are points to be pleaded against this criticism.
The very beauty of the most fearful scenes, in spite of their fearfulness, is
one; the quick comfort of the lyrics is another, falling like a spell of peace
when the strain is too hard to bear (cf. p. 89). But the main defence is
that, like many of the greatest works of art, the Troädes is something more
than art. It is also a prophecy, a bearing of witness. And the prophet,
bound to deliver his message, walks outside the regular ways of the artist.
For some time before the Troädes was produced, Athens, now entirely in
the hands of the War Party, had been engaged in an enterprise which,
though on military grounds defensible, was bitterly resented by the more
humane minority, and has been selected by Thucydides as the great crucial
crime of the war. She had succeeded in compelling the neutral Dorian
island of Mêlos to take up arms against her, and after a long siege had
conquered the quiet and immemorially ancient town, massacred the men
and sold the women and children into slavery. Mêlos fell in the autumn of
416 B.C. The Troädes was produced in the following spring. And while the
41
gods of the prologue were prophesying destruction at sea for the sackers
of Troy, the fleet of the sackers of Mêlos, flushed with conquest and
marked by a slight but unforgettable taint of sacrilege, was actually
preparing to set sail for its fatal enterprise against Sicily.
Not, of course, that we have in the Troädes a case of political allusion. Far
from it. Euripides does not mean Mêlos when he says Troy, nor mean
Alcibiades' fleet when he speaks of Agamemnon's. But he writes under
the influence of a year which to him, as to Thucydides, had been filled full
of indignant pity and of dire foreboding. This tragedy is perhaps, in
European literature, the first great expression of the spirit of pity for
mankind exalted into a moving principle; a principle which has made the
most precious, and possibly the most destructive, elements of
innumerable rebellions, revolutions, and martyrdoms, and of at least two
great religions.
Pity is a rebel passion. Its hand is against the strong, against the organised
force of society, against conventional sanctions and accepted Gods. It is
the Kingdom of Heaven within us fighting against the brute powers of the
world; and it is apt to have those qualities of unreason, of contempt for
the counting of costs and the balancing of sacrifices, of recklessness, and
even, in the last resort, of ruthlessness, which so often mark the paths of
heavenly things and the doings of the children of light. It brings not
peace, but a sword.
So it was with Euripides. The Troädes itself has indeed almost no
fierceness and singularly little thought of revenge. It is only the crying of
one of the great wrongs of the world wrought into music, as it were, and
made beautiful by "the most tragic of the poets." But its author lived ever
after in a deepening atmosphere of strife and even of hatred, down to the
day when, "because almost all in Athens rejoiced at his suffering," he took
his way to the remote valleys of Macedon to write the Bacchae and to die.
42
THE TROJAN WOMEN
or
Troades
CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY:
THE GOD POSEIDON.
THE GODDESS PALLAS ATHENA.
HECUBA, Queen of Troy, wife of Priam, mother of Hector and Paris.
CASSANDRA, daughter of Hecuba, a prophetess.
ANDROMACHE, wife of Hector, Prince of Troy.
HELEN, wife of Menelaus, King of Sparta; carried off by Paris, Prince of Troy.
TALTHYBIUS, Herald of the Greeks.
MENELAUS, King of Sparta, and, together with his brother Agamemnon,
General of the Greeks.
SOLDIERS ATTENDANT ON TALTHYBIUS AND MENELAUS.
CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN WOMEN, YOUNG AND OLD,
MAIDEN AND MARRIED.
The Troädesi was first acted in the year 415 B.C. "The first prize was won by
Xenocles, whoever he may have been, with the four plays Oedipus, Lycaon, Bacchae
and Athamas, a Satyr-play. The second by Euripides with the Alexander, Palamêdês,
Troädes and Sisyphus, a Satyr-play."—AELIAN, Varia Historia, ii. 8.
The scene represents a battlefield, a few days after the battle. At the back are the walls
of Troy, partially ruined. In front of them, to right and left, are some huts, containing
those of the Captive Women who have been specially set apart for the chief Greek
leaders. At one side some dead bodies of armed men are visible. In front a tall woman
with white hair is lying on the ground asleep.
It is the dusk of early dawn, before sunrise. The figure of the god POSEIDON is
dimly seen before the walls.
i
Another name for The Trojan Women by Euripides.
43
POSEIDON.ii
Up from Aegean caverns, pool by pool
Of blue salt sea, where feet most beautiful
Of Nereid maidens weave beneath the foam
Their long sea-dances, I, their lord, am come,
Poseidon of the Sea. 'Twas I whose power,
With great Apollo, builded tower by tower
These walls of Troy; and still my care doth stand
True to the ancient People of my hand;
Which now as smoke is perished, in the shock
Of Argive spears. Down from Parnassus' rock
The Greek Epeios came, of Phocian seed,
And wrought by Pallas' mysteries a Steed
Marvellous, big with arms; and through my wall
It passed, a death-fraught image magical.
The groves are empty and the sanctuaries
Run red with blood. Unburied Priam lies
By his own hearth, on God's high altar-stair,
And Phrygian gold goes forth and raiment rare
To the Argive ships; and weary soldiers roam
Waiting the wind that blows at last for home,
For wives and children, left long years away,
Beyond the seed's tenth fullness and decay,
To work this land's undoing.
In the Iliad Poseidon is the enemy of Troy, here the friend. This sort of confusion comes
from the fact that the Trojans and their Greek enemies were largely of the same blood,
with the same tribal gods. To the Trojans, Athena the War-Goddess was, of
course, their War-Goddess, the protectress of their citadel. Poseidon, god of the sea and its
merchandise, and Apollo (possibly a local shepherd god?), were their natural friends and
had actually built their city wall for love of the good old king, Laomedon. Zeus, the great
father, had Mount Ida for his holy hill and Troy for his peculiar city.
ii
To suit the Greek point of view all this had to be changed or explained away. In
the Iliad generally Athena is the proper War-Goddess of the Greeks. Poseidon had indeed
built the wall for Laomedon, but Laomedon had cheated him of his reward—as afterwards
he cheated Heracles, and the Argonauts and everybody else! So Poseidon hated Troy. Troy
is chiefly defended by the barbarian Ares, the oriental Aphrodite, by its own rivers
Scamander and Simois and suchlike inferior or unprincipled gods.
Yet traces of the other tradition remain. Homer knows that Athena is specially worshipped
in Troy. He knows that Apollo, who had built the wall with Poseidon, and had the same
experience of Laomedon, still loves the Trojans. Zeus himself, though eventually in
obedience to destiny he permits the fall of the city, nevertheless has a great tenderness
towards it.
44
And for me,
Since Argive Hera conquereth, and she
Who wrought with Hera to the Phrygians' woe,
Pallas, behold, I bow mine head and go
Forth from great Ilioniii and mine altars old.
When a still city lieth in the hold
Of Desolation, all God's spirit there
Is sick and turns from worship.—Hearken where
The ancient River waileth with a voice
Of many women, portioned by the choice
Of war amid new lords, as the lots leap
For Thessaly, or Argos, or the steep
Of Theseus' Rock. And others yet there are,
High women, chosen from the waste of war
For the great kings, behind these portals hid;
And with them that Laconian Tyndaridiv,
Helen, like them a prisoner and a prize.
And this unhappy one—would any eyes
Gaze now on Hecuba? Here at the Gates
She lies 'mid many tears for many fates
Of wrong. One child beside Achilles' grave
In secret slainv, Polyxena the brave,
Lies bleeding. Priam and his sons are gone;
And, lo, Cassandravi, she the Chosen One,
Whom Lord Apollo spared to walk her way
A swift and virgin spirit, on this day
[go forth from great Ilion, &c.]—The correct ancient doctrine. When your gods forsook
you, there was no more hope. Conversely, when your state became desperate, evidently
your gods were forsaking you. From another point of view, also, when the city was
desolate and unable to worship its gods, the gods of that city were no more.
iii
[Laotian Tyndarid.]—Helen was the child of Zeus and Leda, and sister of Castor and
Polydeuces; but her human father was Tyndareus, an old Spartan king. She is treated as "a
prisoner and a prize," i.e., as a captured enemy, not as a Greek princess delivered from the
Trojans.
iv
v
[In secret slain.]—Because the Greeks were ashamed of the bloody deed.
[Cassandra.]—In the Agamemnon the story is more clearly told, that Cassandra was loved
by Apollo and endowed by him with the power of prophecy; then in some way she
rejected or betrayed him, and he set upon her the curse that though seeing the truth she
should never be believed. The figure of Cassandra in this play is not inconsistent with that
version, but it makes a different impression. She is here a dedicated virgin, and her mystic
love for Apollo does not seem to have suffered any breach.
vi
45
Lust hath her, and she goeth garlanded
A bride of wrath to Agamemnon's bed.
[He turns to go; and another divine Presence becomes visible in the dusk. It is the
goddess PALLAS ATHENA.]
O happy long ago, farewell, farewell,
Ye shining towers and mine old citadel;
Broken by Pallasvii, Child of God, or still
Thy roots had held thee true.
PALLAS.
Is it the will
Of God's high Brother, to whose hand is given
Great power of old, and worship of all Heaven,
To suffer speech from one whose enmities
This day are cast aside?
POSEIDON.
His will it is:
Kindred and long companionship withal,
Most high Athena, are things magical.
PALLAS.
Blest be thy gentle mood!—Methinks I see
A road of comfort here, for thee and me.
POSEIDON.
Thou hast some counsel of the Gods, or word
Spoken of Zeus? Or is it tidings heard
From some far Spirit?
PALLAS.
For this Ilion's sake,
Whereon we tread, I seek thee, and would make
My hand as thine.
POSEIDON.
[Pallas.]— The historical explanation of the Trojan Pallas and the Greek Pallas is simple
enough; but as soon as the two are mythologically personified and made one, there
emerges just such a bitter and ruthless goddess as Euripides, in his revolt against the
current mythology, loved to depict. But it is not only the mythology that he is attacking.
He seems really to feel that if there are conscious gods ruling the world, they are cruel or
"inhuman" beings.
vii
46
Hath that old hate and deep
Failed, where she lieth in her ashen sleep?
Thou pitiest her?
PALLAS.
Speak first; wilt thou be one
In heart with me and hand till all be done?
POSEIDON.
Yea; but lay bare thy heart. For this land's sake
Thou comest, not for Hellas?
PALLAS.
I would make
Mine ancient enemies laugh for joy, and bring
On these Greek ships a bitter homecoming.
POSEIDON.
Swift is thy spirit's path, and strange withal,
And hot thy love and hate, where'er they fall.
PALLAS.
A deadly wrong they did me, yea within
Mine holy place: thou knowest?
POSEIDON.
I know the sin
Of Ajaxviii, when he cast Cassandra down….
PALLAS.
And no man rose and smote him; not a frown
Nor word from all the Greeks!
POSEIDON.
And 'twas thine hand
That gave them Troy!
PALLAS.
Therefore with thee I stand
To smite them.
Ajax the Less, son of Oïleus, either ravished or attempted to ravish Cassandra (the story
occurs in both forms) while she was clinging to the Palladium or image of Pallas. It is one
of the great typical sins of the Sack of Troy, often depicted on vases.
viii
47
POSEIDON.
All thou cravest, even now
Is ready in mine heart. What seekest thou?
PALLAS.
An homecoming that striveth ever more
And cometh to no home.
POSEIDON.
Here on the shore
Wouldst hold them or amid mine own salt foam?
PALLAS.
When the last ship hath bared her sail for home!
Zeus shall send rain, long rain and flaw of driven
Hail, and a whirling darkness blown from heaven;
To me his levin-light he promiseth
O'er ships and men, for scourging and hot death:
Do thou make wild the roads of the sea, and steep
With war of waves and yawning of the deep,
Till dead men choke Euboea's curling bay.
So Greece shall dread even in an after day
My house, nor scorn the Watchers of strange lands!
POSEIDON.
I give thy boon unbartered. These mine hands
Shall stir the waste Aegean; reefs that cross
The Delian pathways, jag-torn Myconos,
Scyros and Lemnos, yea, and storm-driven
Caphêreus with the bones of drownèd men
Shall glut him.—Go thy ways, and bid the Sire
Yield to thine hand the arrows of his fire.
Then wait thine hour, when the last ship shall wind
Her cable coil for home! [Exit PALLAS.
How are ye blind,
Ye treaders down of cities, ye that cast
Temples to desolation, and lay waste
Tombs, the untrodden sanctuaries where lie
The ancient dead; yourselves so soon to die!
[Exit POSEIDON.
*****
The day slowly dawns: HECUBA wakes.
48
HECUBA.
Up from the earth, O weary head!
This is not Troy, about, above—
Not Troy, nor we the lords thereof.
Thou breaking neck, be strengthenèd!
Endure and chafe not. The winds rave
And falter. Down the world's wide road,
Float, float where streams the breath of God;
Nor turn thy prow to breast the wave.
Ah woe!… For what woe lacketh here?
My children lost, my land, my lord.
O thou great wealth of glory, stored
Of old in Ilion, year by year
We watched … and wert thou nothingness?
What is there that I fear to say?
And yet, what help?… Ah, well-a-day,
This ache of lying, comfortless
And haunted! Ah, my side, my brow
And temples! All with changeful pain
My body rocketh, and would fain
Move to the tune of tears that flow:
For tears are music too, and keep
A song unheard in hearts that weep.
[She rises and gazes towards the Greek ships far off on the shore.
O ships, O crowding faces
Of shipsix, O hurrying beat
Of oars as of crawling feet,
How found ye our holy places?
Threading the narrows through,
Out from the gulfs of the Greek,
Out to the clear dark blue,
With hate ye came and with joy,
And the noise of your music flew,
Clarion and pipe did shriek,
As the coilèd cords ye threw,
Held in the heart of Troy!
[Faces of ships.]—Homeric ships had prows shaped and painted to look like birds' or
beasts' heads. A ship was always a wonderfully live and vivid thing to the Greek poets.
ix
49
What sought ye then that ye came?
A woman, a thing abhorred:
A King's wife that her lord
Hateth: and Castor'sx shame
Is hot for her sake, and the reeds
Of old Eurôtas stir
With the noise of the name of her.
She slew mine ancient King,
The Sower of fifty Seedsxi,
And cast forth mine and me,
As shipwrecked men, that cling
To a reef in an empty sea.
Who am I that I sit
Here at a Greek king's door,
Yea, in the dust of it?
A slave that men drive before,
A woman that hath no home,
Weeping alone for her dead;
A low and bruisèd head,
And the glory struck therefrom.
[She starts up from her solitary brooding, and calls to the other
Trojan Women in the huts.
O Mothers of the Brazen Spear,
And maidens, maidens, brides of shame,
Troy is a smoke, a dying flame;
Together we will weep for her:
I call ye as a wide-wing'd bird
Calleth the children of her fold,
To cry, ah, not the cry men heard
In Ilion, not the songs of old,
That echoed when my hand was true
On Priam's sceptre, and my feet
Touched on the stone one signal beat,
And out the Dardan music rolled;
And Troy's great Gods gave ear thereto.
[The door of one of the huts on the right opens, and the Women steal out severally,
startled and afraid.
x
[Castor.]—Helen's brother: the Eurôtas, the river of her home, Sparta.
[Fifty seeds.]—Priam had fifty children, nineteen of them children of Hecuba (Iliad vi.
451, &c.).
xi
50
FIRST WOMAN.
[Strophe I.
How say'st thou? Whither moves thy cry,
Thy bitter cry? Behind our door
We heard thy heavy heart outpour
Its sorrow: and there shivered by
Fear and a quick sob shaken
From prisoned hearts that shall be free no more!
HECUBA.
Child, 'tis the ships that stir upon the shore….
SECOND WOMAN.
The ships, the ships awaken!
THIRD WOMAN.
Dear God, what would they? Overseas
Bear me afar to strange cities?
HECUBA.
Nay, child, I know not. Dreams are these,
Fears of the hope-forsaken.
FIRST WOMAN.
Awake, O daughters of affliction, wake
And learn your lots! Even now the Argives break
Their camp for sailing!
HECUBA.
Ah, not Cassandra! Wake not her
Whom God hath maddened, lest the foe
Mock at her dreaming. Leave me clear
From that one edge of woe.
O Troy, my Troy, thou diest here
Most lonely; and most lonely we
The living wander forth from thee,
And the dead leave thee wailing!
[One of the huts on the left is now open, and the rest of the CHORUS come out
severally. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen.
FOURTH WOMAN.
[Antistrophe I.
51
Out of the tent of the Greek king
I steal, my Queen, with trembling breath:
What means thy call? Not death; not death!
They would not slay so low a thing!
FIFTH WOMAN.
O, 'tis the ship-folk crying
To deck the galleys: and we part, we part!
HECUBA.
Nay, daughter: take the morning to thine heart.
FIFTH WOMAN.
My heart with dread is dying!
SIXTH WOMAN.
An herald from the Greek hath come!
FIFTH WOMAN.
How have they cast me, and to whom
A bondmaid?
HECUBA.
Peace, child: wait thy doom.
Our lots are near the trying.
FOURTH WOMAN.
Argos, belike, or Phthia shall it be,
Or some lone island of the tossing sea,
Far, far from Troy?
HECUBA.
And I the agèd, where go I,
A winter-frozen bee, a slave
Death-shapen, as the stones that lie
Hewn on a dead man's grave:
The children of mine enemy
To foster, or keep watch before
The threshold of a master's door,
I that was Queen in Troy!
A WOMAN TO ANOTHER.
[Strophe 2.
And thou, what tears can tell thy doom?
52
THE OTHER.
The shuttle still shall flit and change
Beneath my fingers, but the loom,
Sister, be strange.
ANOTHER (wildly).
Look, my dead child! My child, my love,
The last look….
ANOTHER.
Oh, there cometh worse.
A Greek's bed in the dark….
ANOTHER.
God curse
That night and all the powers thereof!
ANOTHER.
Or pitchers to and fro to bear
To some Pirênêxii on the hill,
Where the proud water craveth still
Its broken-hearted minister.
ANOTHER.
God guide me yet to Theseus' land,
The gentle land, the famed afar….
ANOTHER.
But not the hungry foam—Ah, never!—
Of fierce Eurotas, Helen's river,
To bow to Menelaus' hand,
That wasted Troy with war!
A WOMAN.
[Antistrophe 2.
They told us of a land high-born,
Where glimmers round Olympus' roots
A lordly river, red with corn
And burdened fruits.
[Pirênê.]—The celebrated spring on the hill of Corinth. Drawing water was a typical
employment of slaves.
xii
53
ANOTHER.
Aye, that were next in my desire
To Athens, where good spirits dwell….
ANOTHER.
Or Aetna's breast, the deeps of fire
That front the Tyrian's Citadel:
First mother, she, of Sicily
And mighty mountains: fame hath told
Their crowns of goodness manifold….
ANOTHER.
And, close beyond the narrowing sea,
A sister land, where float enchanted
Ionian summits, wave on wave,
And Crathis of the burning tresses
Makes red the happy vale, and blesses
With gold of fountains spirit-haunted
Homes of true men and brave!
LEADER.
But lo, who cometh: and his lips
Grave with the weight of dooms unknown:
A Herald from the Grecian ships.
Swift comes he, hot-foot to be done
And finished. Ah, what bringeth he
Of news or judgment? Slaves are we,
Spoils that the Greek hath won!
[TALTHYBIUSxiii, followed by some Soldiers, enters from the left.
TALTHYBIUS.
Thou know'st me, Hecuba. Often have I crossed
Thy plain with tidings from the Hellene host.
'Tis I, Talthybius…. Nay, of ancient use
Thou know'st me. And I come to bear thee news.
HECUBA.
Talthybius is a loyal soldier with every wish to be kind. But he is naturally in good spirits
over the satisfactory end of the war, and his tact is not sufficient to enable him to
understand the Trojan Women's feelings. Yet in the end, since he has to see and do the
cruelties which his Chiefs only order from a distance, the real nature of his work forces
itself upon him, and he feels and speaks at times almost like a Trojan. It is worth noticing
how the Trojan Women generally avoid addressing him.
xiii
54
Ah me, 'tis here, 'tis here,
Women of Troy, our long embosomed fear!
TALTHYBIUS.
The lots are cast, if that it was ye feared.
HECUBA.
What lord, what land…. Ah me,
Phthia or Thebes, or sea-worn Thessaly?
TALTHYBIUS.
Each hath her own. Ye go not in one herd.
HECUBA.
Say then what lot hath any? What of joy
Falls, or can fall on any child of Troy?
TALTHYBIUS.
I know: but make thy questions severally.
HECUBA.
My stricken one must be
Still first. Say how Cassandra's portion lies.
TALTHYBIUS.
Chosen from all for Agamemnon's prize!
HECUBA.
How, for his Spartan bride
A tirewoman? For Helen's sister's pride?
TALTHYBIUS.
Nay, nay: a bride herself, for the King's bed.
HECUBA.
The sainted of Apollo? And her own
Prize that God promised
Out of the golden clouds, her virgin crown?…
TALTHYBIUS.
He loved her for that same strange holiness.
HECUBA.
Daughter, away, away,
Cast all away,
55
The haunted Keys, the lonely stole's array
That kept thy body like a sacred place!
TALTHYBIUS.
Is't not rare fortune that the King hath smiled
On such a maid?
HECUBA.
What of that other child
Ye reft from me but now?
TALTHYBIUS (speaking with some constraint).
Polyxena? Or what child meanest thou?
HECUBA.
The same. What man now hath her, or what doom?
TALTHYBIUS.
She rests apart, to watch Achilles' tomb.
HECUBA.
To watch a tomb? My daughter? What is this?…
Speak, Friend? What fashion of the laws of Greece?
TALTHYBIUS.
Count thy maid happy! She hath naught of ill
To fear….
HECUBA.
What meanest thou? She liveth still?
TALTHYBIUS.
I mean, she hath one toilxiv that holds her free
From all toil else.
HECUBA.
What of Andromache,
Wife of mine iron-hearted Hector, where
Journeyeth she?
TALTHYBIUS.
[She hath a toil, &c.]—There is something true and pathetic about this curious
blindness which prevents Hecuba from understanding "so plain a riddle. She takes the
watching of a Tomb to be some strange Greek custom, and does not seek to have it
explained further.
xiv
56
Pyrrhus, Achilles' son, hath taken her.
HECUBA.
And I, whose slave am I,
The shaken head, the arm that creepeth by,
Staff-crutchèd, like to fall?
TALTHYBIUS.
Odysseusxv, Ithaca's king, hath thee for thrall.
HECUBA.
Beat, beat the crownless head:
Rend the cheek till the tears run red!
A lying man and a pitiless
Shall be lord of me, a heart full-flown
With scorn of righteousness:
O heart of a beast where law is none,
Where all things change so that lust be fed,
The oath and the deed, the right and the wrong,
Even the hate of the forked tongue:
Even the hate turns and is cold,
False as the love that was false of old!
O Women of Troy, weep for me!
Yea, I am gone: I am gone my ways.
Mine is the crown of misery,
The bitterest day of all our days.
LEADER.
Thy fate thou knowest, Queen: but I know not
What lord of South or North has won my lot.
TALTHYBIUS.
Go, seek Cassandra, men! Make your best speed,
That I may leave her with the King, and lead
These others to their divers lords…. Ha, there!
What means that sudden light? Is it the flare
Of torches?
[Odysseus.]—In Euripides generally Odysseus is the type of the successful unscrupulous
man, as soldier and politician—the incarnation of what the poet most hated. In Homer of
course he is totally different.
xv
57
[Light is seen shining through the crevices of the second hut on the right. He moves
towards it.
Would they fire their prison rooms,
Or how, these dames of Troy?—'Fore God, the dooms
Are known, and now they burn themselves and diexvi
Rather than sail with us! How savagely
In days like these a free neck chafes beneath
Its burden!… Open! Open quick! Such death
Were bliss to them, it may be: but 'twill bring
Much wrath, and leave me shamed before the King!
HECUBA.
There is no fire, no peril: 'tis my child,
Cassandra, by the breath of God made wild.
[The door opens from within and CASSANDRA enters, white-robed and wreathed
like a Priestess, a great torch in her hand. She is singing softly to herself and does not
see the Herald or the scene before her.
CASSANDRA.
Lift, lift it high: [Strophe.
Give it to mine hand!
Lo, I bear a flame
Unto God! I praise his name.
I light with a burning brand
This sanctuary.
Blessèd is he that shall wed,
And blessèd, blessèd am I
In Argos: a bride to lie
With a king in a king's bed.
Hail, O Hymenxvii red,
O Torch that makest one!
Weepest thou, Mother mine own?
[Burn themselves and die.]—Women under these circumstances did commit suicide in
Euripides' day, as they have ever since. It is rather curious that none of the characters of
the play, not even Andromache, kills herself. The explanation must be that no such suicide
was recorded in the tradition; a significant fact, suggesting that in the Homeric age, when
this kind of treatment of women captives was regular, the victims did not suffer quite so
terribly under it.
xvi
[Hymen.]—She addresses the Torch. The shadowy Marriage-god "Hymen" was a torch
and a cry as much as anything more personal. As a torch he is the sign both of marriage
and of death, of sunrise and of the consuming fire. The full Moon was specially connected
with marriage ceremonies.
xvii
58
Surely thy cheek is pale
With tears, tears that wail
For a land and a father dead.
But I go garlanded:
I am the Bride of Desire:
Therefore my torch is borne—
Lo, the lifting of morn,
Lo, the leaping of fire!—
For thee, O Hymen bright,
For thee, O Moon of the Deep,
So Law hath charged, for the light
Of a maid's last sleep.
Awake, O my feet, awake: [Antistrophe.
Our father's hope is won!
Dance as the dancing skies
Over him, where he lies
Happy beneath the sun!…
Lo, the Ring that I make….
[She makes a circle round her with a torch, and visions appear to her.
Apollo!… Ah, is it thou?
O shrine in the laurels cold,
I bear thee still, as of old,
Mine incense! Be near to me now.
[She waves the torch as though bearing incense.
O Hymen, Hymen fleet:
Quick torch that makest one!…
How? Am I still alone?
Laugh as I laugh, and twine
In the dance, O Mother mine:
Dear feet, be near my feet!
Come, greet ye Hymen, greet
Hymen with songs of pride:
Sing to him loud and long,
Cry, cry, when the song
Faileth, for joy of the bride!
O Damsels girt in the gold
Of Ilion, cry, cry ye,
For him that is doomed of old
To be lord of me!
59
LEADER.
O hold the damsel, lest her trancèd feet
Lift her afar, Queen, toward the Hellene fleet!
HECUBA.
O Fire, Fire, where men make marriages
Surely thou hast thy lot; but what are these
Thou bringest flashing? Torches savage-wild
And far from mine old dreams.—Alas, my child,
How little dreamed I then of wars or red
Spears of the Greek to lay thy bridal bed!
Give me thy brand; it hath no holy blaze
Thus in thy frenzy flung. Nor all thy days
Nor all thy griefs have changed them yet, nor learned
Wisdom.—Ye women, bear the pine half burned
To the chamber back; and let your drownèd eyes
Answer the music of these bridal cries!
[She takes the torch and gives it to one of the women.
CASSANDRA.
O Mother, fill mine hair with happy flowers,
And speed me forth. Yea, if my spirit cowers,
Drive me with wrath! So liveth Loxiasxviii,
A bloodier bride than ever Helen was
Go I to Agamemnon, Lord most high
Of Hellas!… I shall kill him, mother; I
Shall kill him, and lay waste his house with fire
As he laid ours. My brethren and my sire
Shall win again….xix
(Checking herself) But part I must let be,
And speak not. Not the axe that craveth me,
And more than me; not the dark wanderings
Of mother-murder that my bridal brings,
And all the House of Atreus down, down, down….
xviii
[Loxias.]—The name of Apollo as an Oracular God.
[Cassandra's visions.]—The allusions are to the various sufferings of Odysseus, as
narrated in the Odyssey, and to the tragedies of the house of Atreus, as told for instance in
Aeschylus' Oresteia. Agamemnon together with Cassandra, and in part because he brought
Cassandra, was murdered—felled with an axe—on his return home by his wife
Clytaemnestra and her lover Aegisthus. Their bodies were cast into a pit among the rocks.
In vengeance for this, Orestes, Agamemnon's son, committed "mother-murder," and in
consequence was driven by the Erinyes (Furies) of his mother into madness and exile.
xix
60
Nay, I will show thee. Even now this town
Is happier than the Greeks. I know the power
Of God is on me: but this little hour,
Wilt thou but listen, I will hold him back!
One love, one woman's beauty, o'er the track
Of hunted Helen, made their myriads fall.
And this their King so wisexx, who ruleth all,
What wrought he? Cast out Love that Hate might feed:
Gave to his brother his own child, his seed
Of gladness, that a woman fled, and fain
To fly for ever, should be turned again!
So the days waned, and armies on the shore
Of Simois stood and strove and died. Wherefore?
No man had moved their landmarks; none had shook
Their wallèd towns.—And they whom Ares took,
Had never seen their children: no wife came
With gentle arms to shroud the limbs of them
For burial, in a strange and angry earth
Laid dead. And there at home, the same long dearth:
Women that lonely died, and aged men
Waiting for sons that ne'er should turn again,
Nor know their graves, nor pour drink-offerings,
To still the unslakèd dust. These be the things
The conquering Greek hath won!
But we—what pride,
What praise of men were sweeter?—fighting died
To save our people. And when war was red
Around us, friends upbore the gentle dead
Home, and dear women's heads about them wound
White shrouds, and here they sleep in the old ground
Belovèd. And the rest long days fought on,
Dwelling with wives and children, not alone
And joyless, like these Greeks.
And Hector's woe,
What is it? He is gone, and all men know
His glory, and how true a heart he bore.
[This their king so wise.]—Agamemnon made the war for the sake of his brother
Menelaus, and slew his daughter, Iphigenia, as a sacrifice at Aulis, to enable the ships to
sail for Troy.
xx
61
It is the gift the Greek hath brought! Of yore
Men saw him not, nor knew him. Yea, and even
Paris hath loved withal a child of heaven:
Else had his love but been as others are.
Would ye be wise, ye Cities, fly from war!
Yet if war come, there is a crown in death
For her that striveth well and perisheth
Unstained: to die in evil were the stain!
Therefore, O Mother, pity not thy slain,
Nor Troy, nor me, the bride. Thy direst foe
And mine by this my wooing is brought low.
TALTHYBIUS (at last breaking through the spell that has held him).
I swear, had not Apollo made thee mad,
Not lightly hadst thou flung this shower of bad
Bodings, to speed my General o'er the seas!
'Fore God, the wisdoms and the greatnesses
Of seeming, are they hollow all, as things
Of naught? This son of Atreus, of all kings
Most mighty, hath so bowed him to the love
Of this mad maid, and chooseth her above
All women! By the Gods, rude though I be,
I would not touch her hand!
Look thou; I see
Thy lips are blind, and whatso words they speak,
Praises of Troy or shamings of the Greek,
I cast to the four winds! Walk at my side
In peace!… And heaven content him of his bride!
[He moves as though to go, but turns to HECUBA, and speaks more
gently.
And thou shalt follow to Odysseus' host
When the word comes. 'Tis a wise queenxxi thou
go'st
To serve, and gentle: so the Ithacans say.
CASSANDRA (seeing for the first time the Herald and all the scene).
How fierce a slave!… O Heralds, Heralds!
Yea,
xxi
[A wise queen.]—Penelope, the faithful wife of Odysseus.
62
Voices of Deathxxii; and mists are over them
Of dead men's anguish, like a diadem,
These weak abhorred things that serve the hate
Of kings and peoples!…
To Odysseus' gate
My mother goeth, say'st thou? Is God's word
As naught, to me in silence ministered,
That in this place she dies?xxiii… (To herself) No
more; no more!
Why should I speak the shame of them, before
They come?… Little he knows, that hard-beset
Spirit, what deeps of woe await him yet;
Till all these tears of ours and harrowings
Of Troy, by his, shall be as golden things.
Ten years behind ten years athwart his way
Waiting: and home, lost and unfriended….
Nay:
Why should Odysseus' labours vex my breath?
On; hasten; guide me to the house of Death,
To lie beside my bridegroom!…
Thou Greek King,
Who deem'st thy fortune now so high a thing,
Thou dust of the earth, a lowlier bed I see,
In darkness, not in light, awaiting thee:
And with thee, with thee … there, where yawneth
plain
A rift of the hills, raging with winter rain,
Dead … and out-cast … and naked…. It is I
[O Heralds, yea, Voices of Death.]—There is a play on the word for "heralds" in the
Greek here, which I have evaded by a paraphrase. ([Greek: Kaer-ukes] as though from
[Greek: Kaer] the death-spirit, "the one thing abhorred of all mortal men.")
xxii
[That in this place she dies.]—The death of Hecuba is connected with a certain heap of
stones on the shore of the Hellespont, called Kunossêma, or "Dog's Tomb." According to
one tradition (Eur. Hec. 1259 ff.) she threw herself off the ship into the sea; according to
another she was stoned by the Greeks for her curses upon the fleet; but in both she is
changed after death into a sort of Hell-hound. M. Victor Bérard suggests that the dog first
comes into the story owing to the accidental resemblance of the (hypothetical) Semitic
word S'qoulah, "Stone" or "Stoning," and the Greek Skulax, dog. The Homeric Scylla
(Skulla) was also both a Stone and a Dog (Phéneciens et Odyssée, i. 213). Of course in the
present passage there is no direct reference to these wild sailor-stories.
xxiii
63
Beside my bridegroom: and the wild beasts cry,
And ravin on God's chosen!
[She clasps her hands to her brow and feels the wreaths.
O, ye wreaths!
Ye garlands of my God, whose love yet breathes
About me, shapes of joyance mystical,
Begone! I have forgot the festival,
Forgot the joy. Begone! I tear ye, so,
From off me!… Out on the swift winds they go.
With flesh still clean I give them back to thee,
Still white, O God, O light that leadest me!
[_Turning upon the Herald.
Where lies the galley? Whither shall I tread?
See that your watch be set, your sail be spread
The wind comes quickxxiv! Three Powers—mark me,
thou!—
There be in Hell, and one walks with thee now!
Mother, farewell, and weep not! O my sweet
City, my earth-clad brethren, and thou great
Sire that begat us, but a space, ye Dead,
And I am with you, yea, with crowned head
I come, and shining from the fires that feed
On these that slay us now, and all their seed!
[She goes out, followed by Talthybius and the Soldiers Hecuba, after waiting for an
instant motionless, falls to the ground.
LEADER OF CHORUS.
The Queen, ye Watchers! See, she falls, she falls,
Rigid without a word! O sorry thralls,
Too late! And will ye leave her downstricken,
A woman, and so old? Raise her again!
[Some women go to HECUBA, but she refuses their aid and speaks without rising.
HECUBA.
Let lie … the love we seek not is no love….
This ruined body! Is the fall thereof
Too deep for all that now is over me
Of anguish, and hath been, and yet shall be?
[The wind comes quick.]—i.e.. The storm of the Prologue. Three Powers: the three
Erinyes.
xxiv
64
Ye Gods…. Alas! Why call on things so weak
For aid? Yet there is something that doth seek,
Crying, for God, when one of us hath woe.
O, I will think of things gone long ago
And weave them to a song, like one more tear
In the heart of misery…. All kings we were;
And I must wed a king. And sons I brought
My lord King, many sons … nay, that were naught;
But high strong princes, of all Troy the best.
Hellas nor Troäs nor the garnered East
Held such a mother! And all these things beneath
The Argive spear I saw cast down in death,
And shore these tresses at the dead men's feet.
Yea, and the gardener of my garden great,
It was not any noise of him nor tale
I wept for; these eyes saw him, when the pale
Was broke, and there at the altar Priam fell
Murdered, and round him all his citadel
Sacked. And my daughters, virgins of the fold,
Meet to be brides of mighty kings, behold,
'Twas for the Greek I bred them! All are gone;
And no hope left, that I shall look upon
Their faces any more, nor they on mine.
And now my feet tread on the utmost line:
An old, old slave-woman, I pass below
Mine enemies' gates; and whatso task they know
For this age basest, shall be mine; the door,
Bowing, to shut and open…. I that bore
Hector!… and meal to grind, and this racked head
Bend to the stones after a royal bed;
Tom rags about me, aye, and under them
Tom flesh; 'twill make a woman sick for shame!
Woe's me; and all that one man's arms might hold
One woman, what long seas have o'er me rolled
And roll for ever!… O my child, whose white
Soul laughed amid the laughter of God's light,
Cassandra, what hands and how strange a day
Have loosed thy zone! And thou, Polyxena,
Where art thou? And my sons? Not any seed
Of man nor woman now shall help my need.
Why raise me any more? What hope have I
To hold me? Take this slave that once trod high
65
In Ilion; cast her on her bed of clay
Rock-pillowed, to lie down, and pass away
Wasted with tears. And whatso man they call
Happy, believe not ere the last day fall!
*****
CHORUS. [Strophe.
O Muse, be near me now, and make
A strange song for Ilion's sake,
Till a tone of tears be about mine ears
And out of my lips a music break
For Troy, Troy, and the end of the years:
When the wheels of the Greek above me pressed,
And the mighty horse-hoofs beat my breast;
And all around were the Argive spears
A towering Steed of golden rein—
O gold without, dark steel within!—
Ramped in our gates; and all the plain
Lay silent where the Greeks had been.
And a cry broke from all the folk
Gathered above on Ilion's rock:
"Up, up, O fear is over now!
To Pallas, who hath saved us living,
To Pallas bear this victory-vow!"
Then rose the old man from his room,
The merry damsel left her loom,
And each bound death about his brow
With minstrelsy and high thanksgiving!
[Antistrophe.
O, swift were all in Troy that day,
And girt them to the portal-way,
Marvelling at that mountain Thing
Smooth-carven, where the Argives lay,
And wrath, and Ilion's vanquishing:
Meet gift for her that spareth notxxv,
Her that spareth not, Heaven's yokeless rider.]—Athena like a northern Valkyrie, as
often in the Iliad. If one tries to imagine what Athena, the War-Goddess worshipped by
the Athenian mob, was like—what a mixture of bad national passions, of superstition and
statecraft, of slip-shod unimaginative idealisation—one may partly understand why
Euripides made her so evil. Allegorists and high-minded philosophers might make Athena
entirely noble by concentrating their minds on the beautiful elements in the tradition, and
xxv
66
Heaven's yokeless Rider. Up they brought
Through the steep gates her offering:
Like some dark ship that climbs the shore
On straining cables, up, where stood
Her marble throne, her hallowed floor,
Who lusted for her people's blood.
A very weariness of joy
Fell with the evening over Troy:
And lutes of Afric mingled there
With Phrygian songs: and many a maiden,
With white feet glancing light as air,
Made happy music through the gloom:
And fires on many an inward room
All night broad-flashing, flung their glare
On laughing eyes and slumber-laden.
A MAIDEN.
I was among the dancers there
To Artemis, and glorying sang
Her of the Hills, the Maid most fair,
Daughter of Zeus: and, lo, there rang
A shout out of the dark, and fell
Deathlike from street to street, and made
A silence in the citadel:
And a child cried, as if afraid,
And hid him in his mother's veil.
Then stalked the Slayer from his den,
The hand of Pallas served her well!
O blood, blood of Troy was deep
About the streets and altars then:
And in the wedded rooms of sleep,
Lo, the desolate dark alone,
And headless things, men stumbled on.
And forth, lo, the women go,
The crown of War, the crown of Woe,
To bear the children of the foe
And weep, weep, for Ilion!
*****
forgetting or explaining away all that was savage; he was determined to pin her down to
the worst facts recorded of her, and let people worship such a being if they liked!
67
[As the song ceases a chariot is seen approaching from the town, laden with spoils. On
it sits a mourning Woman with a child in her arms.
LEADER.
Lo, yonder on the heapèd crest
Of a Greek wain, Andromachêxxvi,
As one that o'er an unknown sea
Tosseth; and on her wave-borne breast
Her loved one clingeth, Hector's child,
Astyanax…. O most forlorn
Of women, whither go'st thou, borne
'Mid Hector's bronzen arms, and piled
Spoils of the dead, and pageantry
Of them that hunted Ilion down?
Aye, richly thy new lord shall crown
The mountain shrines of Thessaly!
ANDROMACHE
[Strophe I.
Forth to the Greek I go,
Driven as a beast is driven.
HEC. Woe, woe!
AND. Nay, mine is woe:
Woe to none other given,
And the song and the crown therefor!
HEC. O Zeus!
AND. He hates thee sore!
HEC. Children!
AND. No more, no more
To aid thee: their strife is striven!
HECUBA.
[Antistrophe I.
Troy, Troy is gone!
[Andromache and Hecuba.]—This very beautiful scene is perhaps marred to most
modern readers by an element which is merely a part of the convention of ancient
mourning. Each of the mourners cries: "There is no affliction like mine!" and then
proceeds to argue, as it were, against the other's counter claim. One can only say that it
was, after all, what they expected of each other; and I believe the same convention exists in
most places where keening or wailing is an actual practice.
xxvi
68
AND. Yea, and her treasure parted.
HEC. Gone, gone, mine own
Children, the noble-hearted!
AND. Sing sorrow….
HEC. For me, for me!
AND. Sing for the Great City,
That falleth, falleth to be
A shadow, a fire departed.
ANDROMACHE.
[Strophe 2.
Come to me, O my lover!
HEC. The dark shroudeth him over,
My flesh, woman, not thine, not thine!
AND. Make of thine arms my cover!
HECUBA.
[Antistrophe 2.
O thou whose wound was deepest,
Thou that my children keepest,
Priam, Priam, O age-worn King,
Gather me where thou sleepest.
ANDROMACHE (her hands upon her heart).
[Strophe 3.
O here is the deep of desire,
HEC. (How? And is this not woe?)
AND. For a city burned with fire;
HEC. (It beateth, blow on blow.)
AND. God's wrath for Paris, thy son, that he died not long ago:
Who sold for his evil love
Troy and the towers thereof:
Therefore the dead men lie
Naked, beneath the eye
Of Pallas, and vultures croak
And flap for joy:
69
So Love hath laid his yoke
On the neck of Troy!
HECUBA.
[Antistrophe 3.
O mine own land, my home,
AND. (I weep for thee, left forlorn,)
HEC. See'st thou what end is come?
AND. (And the house where my babes were born.)
HEC. A desolate Mother we leave, O children, a City of scorn:
Even as the sound of a song
Left by the way, but long
Remembered, a tune of tears
Falling where no man hears,
In the old house, as rain,
For things loved of yore:
But the dead hath lost his pain
And weeps no more.
LEADER.
How sweet are tears to them in bitter stress,
And sorrow, and all the songs of heaviness.
ANDROMACHE.
Mother of him of old, whose mighty spear Smote Greeks like chaff, see'st
thou what things are here?
HECUBA.
I see God's hand, that buildeth a great crown
For littleness, and hath cast the mighty down.
ANDROMACHE.
I and my babe are driven among the droves
Of plundered cattle. O, when fortune moves
So swift, the high heart like a slave beats low.
HECUBA.
'Tis fearful to be helpless. Men but now
Have taken Cassandra, and I strove in vain.
ANDROMACHE.
70
Ah, woe is me; hath Ajax come again?
But other evil yet is at thy gate.
HECUBA.
Nay, Daughter, beyond number, beyond weight
My evils are! Doom raceth against doom.
ANDROMACHE.
Polyxena across Achilles' tomb
Lies slain, a gift flung to the dreamless dead.
HECUBA.
My sorrow!… 'Tis but what Talthybius said:
So plain a riddle, and I read it not.
ANDROMACHE.
I saw her lie, and stayed this chariot;
And raiment wrapt on her dead limbs, and beat
My breast for her.
HECUBA (to herself).
O the foul sin of it!
The wickedness! My child. My child! Again
I cry to thee. How cruelly art thou slain!
ANDROMACHE.
She hath died her death, and howso dark it be,
Her death is sweeter than my misery.
HECUBA.
Death cannot be what Life is, Child; the cup
Of Death is empty, and Life hath always hope.
ANDROMACHE.
O Mother, having ears, hear thou this word
Fear-conquering, till thy heart as mine be stirred
With joy. To die is only not to be;
And better to be dead than grievously
Living. They have no pain, they ponder not
Their own wrong. But the living that is brought
From joy to heaviness, his soul doth roam,
As in a desert, lost, from its old home.
Thy daughter lieth now as one unborn,
Dead, and naught knowing of the lust and scorn
71
That slew her. And I … long since I drew my
bow
Straight at the heart of good fame; and I know
My shaft hit; and for that am I the more
Fallen from peace. All that men praise us for,
I loved for Hector's sake, and sought to win.
I knew that alway, be there hurt therein
Or utter innocence, to roam abroad
Hath ill report for women; so I trod
Down the desire thereof, and walked my way
In mine own garden. And light words and gay
Parley of women never passed my door.
The thoughts of mine own heart … I craved no more….
Spoke with me, and I was happy. Constantly
I brought fair silence and a tranquil eye
For Hector's greeting, and watched well the way
Of living, where to guide and where obey.
And, lo! some rumour of this peace, being gone
Forth to the Greek, hath cursed me. Achilles' son,
So soon as I was taken, for his thrall
Chose me. I shall do service in the hall
Of them that slew…. How? Shall I thrust aside
Hector's beloved face, and open wide
My heart to this new lord? Oh, I should stand
A traitor to the dead! And if my hand
And flesh shrink from him … lo, wrath and despite
O'er all the house, and I a slave!
One night,
One night … aye, men have said it … maketh tame
A woman in a man's arms…. O shame, shame!
What woman's lips can so forswear her dead,
And give strange kisses in another's bed?
Why, not a dumb beast, not a colt will run
In the yoke untroubled, when her mate is gone—
A thing not in God's image, dull, unmoved
Of reason. O my Hector! best beloved,
That, being mine, wast all in all to me,
My prince, my wise one, O my majesty
Of valiance! No man's touch had ever come
Near me, when thou from out my father's home
Didst lead me and make me thine…. And thou art
dead,
And I war-flung to slavery and the bread
72
Of shame in Hellas, over bitter seas!
What knoweth she of evils like to these,
That dead Polyxena, thou weepest for?
There liveth not in my life any more
The hope that others have. Nor will I tell
The lie to mine own heart, that aught is well
Or shall be well…. Yet, O, to dream were sweet!
LEADER.
Thy feet have trod the pathway of my feet,
And thy clear sorrow teacheth me mine own.
HECUBA.
Lo, yonder ships: I ne'er set foot on one,
But tales and pictures tell, when over them
Breaketh a storm not all too strong to stem,
Each man strives hard, the tiller gripped, the mast
Manned, the hull baled, to face it: till at last
Too strong breaks the o'erwhelming sea: lo, then
They cease, and yield them up as broken men
To fate and the wild waters. Even so
I in my many sorrows bear me low,
Nor curse, nor strive that other things may be.
The great wave rolled from God hath conquered me.
But, O, let Hector and the fates that fell
On Hector, sleep. Weep for him ne'er so well,
Thy weeping shall not wake him. Honour thou
The new lord that is set above thee now,
And make of thine own gentle piety
A prize to lure his heart. So shalt thou be
A strength to them that love us, and—God knows,
It may be—rear this babe among his foes,
My Hector's child, to manhood and great aid
For Ilion. So her stones may yet be laid
One on another, if God will, and wrought
Again to a city! Ah, how thought to thought
Still beckons!… But what minion of the Greek
Is this that cometh, with new words to speak?
[Enter TALTHYBIUS with a band of Soldiers. He comes forward slowly and with
evident disquiet.
TALTHYBIUS.
73
Spouse of the noblest heart that beat in Troy,
Andromache, hate me not! 'Tis not in joy
I tell thee. But the people and the Kings
Have with one voice….
ANDROMACHE.
What is it? Evil things
Are on thy lips!
TALTHYBIUS.
Tis ordered, this child…. Oh,
How can I tell her of it?
ANDROMACHE.
Doth he not go
With me, to the same master?
TALTHYBIUS.
There is none
In Greece, shall e'er be master of thy son.
ANDROMACHE.
How? Will they leave him here to build again
The wreck?…
TALTHYBIUS.
I know not how to tell thee plain!
ANDROMACHE.
Thou hast a gentle heart … if it be ill,
And not good, news thou hidest!
TALTHYBIUS.
'Tis their will
Thy son shall die…. The whole vile thing is said
Now!
ANDROMACHE.
Oh, I could have borne mine enemy's bed!
TALTHYBIUS.
And speaking in the council of the host
Odysseus hath prevailed—
ANDROMACHE.
74
O lost! lost! lost!…
Forgive me! It is not easy….
TALTHYBIUS.
… That the son
Of one so perilous be not fostered on
To manhood—
ANDROMACHE.
God; may his own counsel fall
On his own sons!
TALTHYBIUS.
… But from this crested wall
Of Troy be dashed, and die…. Nay, let the thing
Be done. Thou shalt be wiser so. Nor cling
So fiercely to him. Suffer as a brave
Woman in bitter pain; nor think to have
Strength which thou hast not. Look about thee here!
Canst thou see help, or refuge anywhere?
Thy land is fallen and thy lord, and thou
A prisoner and alone, one woman; how
Canst battle against us? For thine own good
I would not have thee strive, nor make ill blood
And shame about thee…. Ah, nor move thy lips
In silence there, to cast upon the ships
Thy curse! One word of evil to the host,
This babe shall have no burial, but be tossed
Naked…. Ah, peace! And bear as best thou may,
War's fortune. So thou shalt not go thy way
Leaving this child unburied; nor the Greek
Be stern against thee, if thy heart be meek!
ANDROMACHE (to the child).
Go, die, my best-beloved, my cherished one,
In fierce men's hands, leaving me here alone.
Thy father was too valiant; that is why
They slay thee! Other children, like to die,
Might have been spared for that. But on thy head
His good is turned to evil.
O thou bed
And bridal; O the joining of the hand,
That led me long ago to Hector's land
75
To bear, O not a lamb for Grecian swords
To slaughter, but a Prince o'er all the hordes
Enthroned of wide-flung Asia…. Weepest thou?
Nay, why, my little one? Thou canst not know.
And Father will not come; he will not come;
Not once, the great spear flashing, and the tomb
Riven to set thee free! Not one of all
His brethren, nor the might of Ilion's wall.
How shall it be? One horrible spring … deep,
deep
Down. And thy neck…. Ah God, so cometh
sleep!…
And none to pity thee!… Thou little thing
That curlest in my arms, what sweet scents cling
All round thy neck! Belovèd; can it be
All nothing, that this bosom cradled thee
And fostered; all the weary nights, wherethrough
I watched upon thy sickness, till I grew
Wasted with watching? Kiss me. This one time;
Not ever again. Put up thine arms, and climb
About my neck: now, kiss me, lips to lips….
O, ye have found an anguish that outstrips
All tortures of the East, ye gentle Greeks!
Why will ye slay this innocent, that seeks
No wrong?… O Helen, Helen, thou ill tree
That Tyndareus planted, who shall deem of thee
As child of Zeus? O, thou hast drawn thy breath
From many fathers, Madness, Hate, red Death,
And every rotting poison of the sky!
Zeus knows thee not, thou vampire, draining dry.
Greece and the world! God hate thee and destroy,
That with those beautiful eyes hast blasted Troy,
And made the far-famed plains a waste withal.
Quick! take him: drag him: cast him from the wall,
If cast ye will! Tear him, ye beasts, be swift!
God hath undone me, and I cannot lift
One hand, one hand, to save my child from death….
O, hide my head for shame: fling me beneath
Your galleys' benches!…
[She swoons: then half-rising.
Quick: I must begone
To the bridal…. I have lost my child, my own!
76
[The Soldiers close round her.
LEADER.
O Troy ill-starred; for one strange woman, one
Abhorrèd kiss, how are thine hosts undone!
TALTHYBIUS (bending over ANDROMACHE and gradually taking the Child
from her).
Come, Child: let be that clasp of love
Outwearied! Walk thy ways with me,
Up to the crested tower, above
Thy father's wall…. Where they decree
Thy soul shall perish.—Hold him: hold!—
Would God some other man might ply
These charges, one of duller mould,
And nearer to the iron than I!
HECUBA.
O Child, they rob us of our own,
Child of my Mighty One outworn:
Ours, ours thou art!—Can aught be done
Of deeds, can aught of pain be borne,
To aid thee?—Lo, this beaten head,
This bleeding bosom! These I spread
As gifts to thee. I can thus much.
Woe, woe for Troy, and woe for thee!
What fall yet lacketh, ere we touch
The last dead deep of misery?
[The Child, who has started back from TALTHYBIUS, is taken up by one of the
Soldiers and borne back towards the city, while ANDROMACHE is set again on
the Chariot and driven off towards the ships. TALTHYBIUS goes with the Child.
*****
CHORUS.
[Strophe I.
In Salamis, filled with the foaming
Of billows and murmur of bees,
Old Telamon stayed from his roaming,
Long ago, on a throne of the seas;
Looking out on the hills olive-laden,
Enchanted, where first from the earth
The grey-gleaming fruit of the Maiden
77
Athena had birth;
A soft grey crown for a city
Belovèd a City of Light:
Yet he rested not there, nor had pity,
But went forth in his might,
Where Heracles wandered, the lonely
Bow-bearer, and lent him his hands
For the wrecking of one land only,
Of Ilion, Ilion only,
Most hated of lands!
[Antistrophe I.
Of the bravest of Hellas he made him
A ship-folk, in wrath for the Steeds,
And sailed the wide waters, and stayed him
At last amid Simoïs' reeds;
And the oars beat slow in the river,
And the long ropes held in the strand,
And he felt for his bow and his quiver,
The wrath of his hand.
And the old king died; and the towers
That Phoebus had builded did fall,
And his wrath, as a flame that devours,
Ran red over all;
And the fields and the woodlands lay blasted,
Long ago. Yea, twice hath the Sire
Uplifted his hand and downcast it
On the wall of the Dardan, downcast it
As a sword and as fire.
[Strophe 2.
In vain, all in vain,
O thou 'mid the wine-jars golden
That movest in delicate joy,
Ganymêdês, child of Troy,
The lips of the Highest drain
The cup in thine hand upholden:
And thy mother, thy mother that bore thee,
Is wasted with fire and torn;
And the voice of her shores is heard,
Wild, as the voice of a bird,
For lovers and children before thee
78
Crying, and mothers outworn.
And the pools of thy bathingxxvii are perished,
And the wind-strewn ways of thy feet:
Yet thy face as aforetime is cherished
Of Zeus, and the breath of it sweet;
Yea, the beauty of Calm is upon it
In houses at rest and afar.
But thy land, He hath wrecked and o'erthrown it
In the wailing of war.
[Antistrophe 2.
O Love, ancient Love,
Of old to the Dardan given;
Love of the Lords of the Sky;
How didst thou lift us high
In Ilion, yea, and above
All cities, as wed with heaven!
For Zeus—O leave it unspoken:
But alas for the love of the Morn;
Morn of the milk-white wing,
The gentle, the earth-loving,
That shineth on battlements broken
In Troy, and a people forlorn!
And, lo, in her bowers Tithônus,
Our brother, yet sleeps as of old:
O, she too hath loved us and known us,
And the Steeds of her star, flashing gold,
Stooped hither and bore him above us;
Then blessed we the Gods in our joy.
But all that made them to love us
Hath perished from Troy.
*****
[As the song ceases, the King MENELAUS enters, richly armed and followed by a
bodyguard of Soldiers. He is a prey to violent and conflicting emotions.
MENELAUSxxviii.
[Pools of thy bathing.]—It is probable that Ganymêdês was himself originally a pool or
a spring on Ida, now a pourer of nectar in heaven.
xxvii
[Menelaus and Helen.]—The meeting of Menelaus and Helen after the taking of Troy
was naturally one of the great moments in the heroic legend. The versions, roughly
speaking, divide themselves into two. In one (Little Iliad, Ar. Lysistr. 155,
xxviii
79
How bright the face of heaven, and how sweet
The air this day, that layeth at my feet
The woman that I…. Nay: 'twas not for her
I came. 'Twas for the man, the cozener
And thief, that ate with me and stole away
My bride. But Paris lieth, this long day,
By God's grace, under the horse-hoofs of the Greek,
And round him all his land. And now I seek….
Curse her! I scarce can speak the name she bears,
That was my wife. Here with the prisoners
They keep her, in these huts, among the hordes
Of numbered slaves.—The host whose labouring swords
Won her, have given her up to me, to fill
My pleasure; perchance kill her, or not kill,
But lead her home.—Methinks I have foregone
The slaying of Helen here in Ilion….
Over the long seas I will bear her back,
And there, there, cast her out to whatso wrack
Eur.Andromache 628) Menelaus is about to kill her, but as she bares her bosom to the
sword, the sword falls from his hand. In the other (Stesichorus, Sack of Ilion (?)) Menelaus
or some one else takes her to the ships to be stoned, and the men cannot stone her. As
Quintus of Smyrna says, "They looked on her as they would on a God!"
Both versions have affected Euripides here. And his Helen has just the magic of the Helen
of legend. That touch of the supernatural which belongs of right to the Child of Heaven—
a mystery, a gentleness, a strange absence of fear or wrath—is felt through all her words.
One forgets to think of her guilt or innocence; she is too wonderful a being to judge, too
precious to destroy. This supernatural element, being the thing which, if true, separates
Helen from other women, and in a way redeems her, is for that reason exactly what
Hecuba denies. The controversy has a certain eternal quality about it: the hypothesis of
heavenly enchantment and the hypothesis of mere bad behaviour, neither of them entirely
convincing! But the very curses of those that hate her make a kind of superhuman
atmosphere about Helen in this play; she fills the background like a great well-spring of
pain.
This Menelaus, however, is rather different from the traditional Menelaus. Besides being
the husband of Helen, he is the typical Conqueror, for whose sake the Greeks fought and
to whom the central prize of the war belongs. And we take him at the height of his
triumph, the very moment for which he made the war! Hence the peculiar bitterness with
which he is treated, his conquest turning to ashes in his mouth, and his love a confused
turmoil of hunger and hatred, contemptible and yet terrible.
The exit of the scene would leave a modern audience quite in doubt as to what happened,
unless the action were much clearer than the words. But all Athenians knew from
the Odyssey that the pair were swiftly reconciled, and lived happily together as King and
Queen of Sparta.
80
Of angry death they may devise, who know
Their dearest dead for her in Ilion.—Ho!
Ye soldiers! Up into the chambers where
She croucheth! Grip the long blood-reeking hair,
And drag her to mine eyes … [Controlling himself.
And when there come
Fair breezes, my long ships shall bear her home.
[The Soldiers go to force open the door of the second hut on the left.
HECUBA.
Thou deep Base of the Worldxxix, and thou high Throne
Above the World, whoe'er thou art, unknown
And hard of surmise, Chain of Things that be,
Or Reason of our Reason; God, to thee
I lift my praise, seeing the silent road
That bringeth justice ere the end be trod
To all that breathes and dies.
MENELAUS (turning).
Ha! who is there
That prayeth heaven, and in so strange a prayer?
Thou deep base of the world.]—These lines, as a piece of religious speculation, were
very famous in antiquity. And dramatically they are most important. All through the play
Hecuba is a woman of remarkable intellectual power and of fearless thought. She does not
definitely deny the existence of the Olympian gods, like some characters in Euripides, but
she treats them as beings that have betrayed her, and whose name she scarcely deigns to
speak. It is the very godlessness of Hecuba's fortitude that makes it so terrible and,
properly regarded, so noble. (Cf. p. 35 "Why call on things so weak?" and p. 74 "They
know, they know….") Such Gods were as a matter of fact the moral inferiors of good
men, and Euripides will never blind his eyes to their inferiority. And as soon as people see
that their god is bad, they tend to cease believing in his existence at all. (Hecuba's answer
to Helen is not inconsistent with this, it is only less characteristic.)
xxix
Behind this Olympian system, however, there is a possibility of some real Providence or
impersonal Governance of the world, to which here, for a moment, Hecuba makes a
passionate approach. If there is any explanation, any justice, even in the form of mere
punishment of the wicked, she will be content and give worship! But it seems that there is
not. Then at last there remains—what most but not all modern freethinkers would
probably have begun to doubt at the very beginning—the world of the departed, the
spirits of the dead, who are true, and in their dim way love her still (p. 71 "Thy father far
away shall comfort thee," and the last scene of the play).
This last religion, faint and shattered by doubt as it is, represents a return to the most
primitive "Pelasgian" beliefs, a worship of the Dead which existed long before the
Olympian system, and has long outlived it.
81
HECUBA.
I bless thee, Menelaus, I bless thee, If thou wilt slay her! Only fear to see
Her visage, lest she snare thee and thou fall! She snareth strong men's
eyes; she snareth tall Cities; and fire from out her eateth up Houses. Such
magic hath she, as a cup Of death!… Do I not know her? Yea, and thou,
And these that lie around, do they not know? [The Soldiers return from the hut
and stand aside to let HELEN pass between them. She comes through them, gentle
and unafraid; there is no disorder in her raiment.
HELEN.
King Menelaus, thy first deed might make
A woman fear. Into my chamber brake
Thine armèd men, and lead me wrathfully.
Methinks, almost, I know thou hatest me.
Yet I would ask thee, what decree is gone
Forth for my life or death?
MENELAUS (struggling with his emotion).
There was not one
That scrupled for thee. All, all with one will
Gave thee to me, whom thou hast wronged, to kill!
HELEN.
And is it granted that I speak, or no,
In answer to them ere I die, to show
I die most wronged and innocent?
MENELAUS.
I seek
To kill thee, woman; not to hear thee speak!
HECUBA.
O hear her! She must never die unheard,
King Menelaus! And give me the word
To speak in answer! All the wrong she wrought
Away from thee, in Troy, thou knowest not.
The whole tale set together is a death
Too sure; she shall not 'scape thee!
MENELAUS.
'Tis but breath
And time. For thy sake, Hecuba, if she need
To speak, I grant the prayer. I have no heed
Nor mercy—let her know it well—for her!
82
HELEN.
It may be that, how false or true soe'er
Thou deem me, I shall win no word from thee.
So sore thou holdest me thine enemy.
Yet I will take what words I think thy heart
Holdeth of anger: and in even part
Set my wrong and thy wrong, and all that fell.
[Pointing to HECUBA.
She cometh first, who bare the seed and well
Of springing sorrow, when to life she brought
Paris: and that old King, who quenched not
Quick in the spark, ere yet he woke to slay,
The fire-brand's image.—But enough: a day
Came, and this Paris judged beneath the trees
Three Crowns of Life, three diverse Goddesses.
The gift of Pallas was of War, to lead
His East in conquering battles, and make bleed
The hearths of Hellas. Hera held a Throne—
If majesties he craved—to reign alone
From Phrygia to the last realm of the West.
And Cypris, if he deemed her loveliest,
Beyond all heaven, made dreams about my face
And for her grace gave me. And, lo! her grace
Was judged the fairest, and she stood above
Those twain.—Thus was I loved, and thus my
love
Hath holpen Hellas. No fierce Eastern crown
Is o'er your lands, no spear hath cast them down.
O, it was well for Hellas! But for me
Most ill; caught up and sold across the sea
For this my beauty; yea, dishonourèd
For that which else had been about my head
A crown of honour…. Ah, I see thy thought;
The first plain deed, 'tis that I answer not,
How in the dark out of thy house I fled….
There came the Seed of Fire, this woman's seed;
Came—O, a Goddess great walked with him then—
This Alexander, Breaker-down-of-Men,
This Paris, Strength-is-with-him; whom thou,
whom—
O false and light of heart—thou in thy room
83
Didst leave, and spreadest sail for Cretan seas,
Far, far from me!… And yet, how strange it is!
I ask not thee; I ask my own sad thought,
What was there in my heart, that I forgot
My home and land and all I loved, to fly
With a strange man? Surely it was not I,
But Cypris, there! Lay thou thy rod on her,
And be more high than Zeus and bitterer,
Who o'er all other spirits hath his throne,
But knows her chain must bind him. My wrong done
Hath its own pardon….
One word yet thou hast,
Methinks, of righteous seeming. When at last
The earth for Paris oped and all was o'er,
And her strange magic bound my feet no more,
Why kept I still his house, why fled not I
To the Argive ships?… Ah, how I strove to fly!
The old Gate-Warden could have told thee all,
My husband, and the watchers from the wall;
It was not once they took me, with the rope
Tied, and this body swung in the air, to grope
Its way toward thee, from that dim battlement.
Ah, husband still, how shall thy hand be bent
To slay me? Nay, if Right be come at last,
What shalt thou bring but comfort for pains past,
And harbour for a woman storm-driven:
A woman borne away by violent men:
And this one birthright of my beauty, this
That might have been my glory, lo, it is
A stamp that God hath burned, of slavery!
Alas! and if thou cravest still to be
As one set above gods, inviolate,
'Tis but a fruitless longing holds thee yet.
LEADER.
O Queen, think of thy children and thy land,
And break her spell! The sweet soft speech, the
hand
And heart so fell: it maketh me afraid.
HECUBA.
Meseems her goddesses first cry mine aid
Against these lying lips!… Not Hera, nay,
84
Nor virgin Pallas deem I such low clay,
To barter their own folk, Argos and brave
Athens, to be trod down, the Phrygian's slave,
All for vain glory and a shepherd's prize
On Ida! Wherefore should great Hera's eyes
So hunger to be fair? She doth not use
To seek for other loves, being wed with Zeus.
And maiden Pallas … did some strange god's face
Beguile her, that she craved for loveliness,
Who chose from God one virgin gift above
All gifts, and fleeth from the lips of love?
Ah, deck not out thine own heart's evil springs
By making spirits of heaven as brutish things
And cruel. The wise may hear thee, and guess all!
And Cypris must take ship-fantastical!
Sail with my son and enter at the gate
To seek thee! Had she willed it, she had sate
At peace in heaven, and wafted thee, and all
Amyclae with thee, under Ilion's wall.
My son was passing beautiful, beyond
His peers; and thine own heart, that saw and conned
His face, became a spirit enchanting thee.
For all wild things that in mortality
Have being, are Aphroditê; and the name
She bears in heaven is born and writ of them.
Thou sawest him in gold and orient vest
Shining, and lo, a fire about thy breast
Leapt! Thou hadst fed upon such little things,
Pacing thy ways in Argos. But now wings
Were come! Once free from Sparta, and there rolled
The Ilian glory, like broad streams of gold,
To steep thine arms and splash the towers! How
small,
How cold that day was Menelaus' hall!
Enough of that. It was by force my son
Took thee, thou sayst, and striving…. Yet not one
In Sparta knew! No cry, no sudden prayer
Rang from thy rooms that night…. Castor was there
To hear thee, and his brother: both true men,
Not yet among the stars! And after, when
Thou camest here to Troy, and in thy track
Argos and all its anguish and the rack
85
Of war—Ah God!—perchance men told thee 'Now
The Greek prevails in battle': then wouldst thou
Praise Menelaus, that my son might smart,
Striving with that old image in a heart
Uncertain still. Then Troy had victories:
And this Greek was as naught! Alway thine eyes
Watched Fortune's eyes, to follow hot where she
Led first. Thou wouldst not follow Honesty.
Thy secret ropes, thy body swung to fall
Far, like a desperate prisoner, from the wall!
Who found thee so? When wast thou taken? Nay,
Hadst thou no surer rope, no sudden way
Of the sword, that any woman honest-souled
Had sought long since, loving her lord of old?
Often and often did I charge thee; 'Go,
My daughter; go thy ways. My sons will know
New loves. I will give aid, and steal thee past
The Argive watch. O give us peace at last,
Us and our foes!' But out thy spirit cried
As at a bitter word. Thou hadst thy pride
In Alexander's house, and O, 'twas sweet
To hold proud Easterns bowing at thy feet.
They were great things to thee!… And comest thou
now
Forth, and hast decked thy bosom and thy brow,
And breathest with thy lord the same blue air,
Thou evil heart? Low, low, with ravaged hair,
Rent raiment, and flesh shuddering, and within—
O shame at last, not glory for thy sin;
So face him if thou canst!… Lo, I have done.
Be true, O King; let Hellas bear her crown
Of Justice. Slay this woman, and upraise
The law for evermore: she that betrays
Her husband's bed, let her be judged and die.
LEADER.
Be strong, O King; give judgment worthily
For thee and thy great house. Shake off thy long
Reproach; not weak, but iron against the wrong!
MENELAUS.
Thy thought doth walk with mine in one intent.
'Tis sure; her heart was willing, when she went
86
Forth to a stranger's bed. And all her fair
Tale of enchantment, 'tis a thing of air!…
[Turning furiously upon HELEN.
Out, woman! There be those that seek thee yet
With stones! Go, meet them. So shall thy long debt
Be paid at last. And ere this night is o'er
Thy dead face shall dishonour me no more!
HELEN (kneeling before him and embracing him).
Behold, mine arms are wreathed about thy knees;
Lay not upon my head the phantasies
Of Heaven. Remember all, and slay me not!
HECUBA.
Remember them she murdered, them that fought
Beside thee, and their children! Hear that prayer!
MENELAUS.
Peace, agèd woman, peace! 'Tis not for her;
She is as naught to me.
(To the Soldiers) … March on before,
Ye ministers, and tend her to the shore …
And have some chambered galley set for her,
Where she may sail the seas.
HECUBA.
If thou be there,
I charge thee, let not her set foot therein!
MENELAUS.
How? Shall the ship go heavier for her sin?
HECUBA.
A lover once, will alway love again.
MENELAUS.
If that he loved be evil, he will fain
Hate it!… Howbeit, thy pleasure shall be done.
Some other ship shall bear her, not mine own….
Thou counsellest very well…. And when we come
To Argos, then … O then some pitiless doom
Well-earned, black as her heart! One that shall bind
Once for all time the law on womankind
87
Of faithfulness!… 'Twill be no easy thing,
God knoweth. But the thought thereof shall fling
A chill on the dreams of women, though they be
Wilder of wing and loathèd more than she!
[Exit, following HELEN, who is escorted by the Soldiers.
*****
CHORUS.
Some Women.
[Strophe I.
And hast thou turned from the Altar of frankincense,
And given to the Greek thy temple of Ilion?
The flame of the cakes of corn, is it gone from hence,
The myrrh on the air and the wreathèd towers gone?
And Ida, dark Ida, where the wild ivy grows,
The glens that run as rivers from the summer-broken snows,
And the Rock, is it forgotten, where the first sunbeam glows,
The lit house most holy of the Dawn?
EURIPIDES
Others.
[Antistrophe I.
The sacrifice is gone and the sound of joy,
The dancing under the stars and the night-long prayer:
The Golden Images and the Moons of Troy,
The twelve Moons and the mighty names they bear:
My heart, my heart crieth, O Lord Zeus on high,
Were they all to thee as nothing, thou thronèd in the sky,
Thronèd in the fire-cloud, where a City, near to die,
Passeth in the wind and the flare?
A Woman.
[Strophe 2.
Dear one, O husband mine,
Thou in the dim dominions
Driftest with waterless lips,
Unburied; and me the ships
Shall bear o'er the bitter brine,
Storm-birds upon angry pinions,
88
Where the towers of the Giantsxxx shine
O'er Argos cloudily,
And the riders ride by the sea.
Others.
And children still in the Gate
Crowd and cry,
A multitude desolate,
Voices that float and wait
As the tears run dry:
'Mother, alone on the shore
They drive me, far from thee:
Lo, the dip of the oar,
The black hull on the sea!
Is it the Isle Immortal,
Salamis, waits for me?
Is it the Rock that broods
Over the sundered floods
Of Corinth, the ancient portal
Of Pelops' sovranty?'
A Woman.
[Antistrophe 2.
Out in the waste of foam,
Where rideth dark Menelaus,
Come to us there, O white
And jagged, with wild sea-light
And crashing of oar-blades, come,
O thunder of God, and slay us:
While our tears are wet for home,
While out in the storm go we,
Slaves of our enemy!
Others.
And, God, may Helen be there,
With mirror of gold,
Decking her face so fair,
Girl-like; and hear, and stare,
And turn death-cold:
Never, ah, never more
xxx
[Towers of the Giants.]—The pre-historic castles of Tiryns and Mycênae.
89
The hearth of her home to see,
Nor sand of the Spartan shore,
Nor tombs where her fathers be,
Nor Athena's bronzen Dwelling,
Nor the towers of Pitanê
For her face was a dark desire
Upon Greece, and shame like fire,
And her dead are welling, welling,
From red Simoïs to the sea!
*****
[TALTHYBIUS, followed by one or two Soldiers and bearing the child
ASTYANAX dead, is seen approaching.
LEADER.
Ah, change on change! Yet each one racks
This land with evil manifold;
Unhappy wives of Troy, behold,
They bear the dead Astyanax,
Our prince, whom bitter Greeks this hour
Have hurled to death from Ilion's tower.
TALTHYBIUS.
One galley, Hecuba, there lingereth yet,
Lapping the wave, to gather the last freight
Of Pyrrhus' spoils for Thessaly. The chief
Himself long since hath parted, much in grief
For Pêleus' sake, his grandsire, whom, men say,
Acastus, Pelias' son, in war array
Hath driven to exile. Loath enough before
Was he to linger, and now goes the more
In haste, bearing Andromache, his prize.
'Tis she hath charmed these tears into mine eyes,
Weeping her fatherland, as o'er the wave
She gazed, and speaking words to Hector's grave.
Howbeit, she prayed us that due rites be done
For burial of this babe, thine Hector's son,
That now from Ilion's tower is fallen and dead.
And, lo! this great bronze-fronted shield, the dread
Of many a Greek, that Hector held in fray,
O never in God's name—so did she pray—
Be this borne forth to hang in Pêleus' hall
Or that dark bridal chamber, that the wall
May hurt her eyes; but here, in Troy o'erthrown,
90
Instead of cedar wood and vaulted stone,
Be this her child's last house…. And in thine hands
She bade me lay him, to be swathed in bands
Of death and garments, such as rest to thee
In these thy fallen fortunes; seeing that she
Hath gone her ways, and, for her master's haste,
May no more fold the babe unto his rest.
Howbeit, so soon as he is garlanded
And robed, we will heap earth above his head
And lift our sails…. See all be swiftly done,
As thou art bidden. I have saved thee one
Labour. For as I passed Scamander's stream
Hard by, I let the waters run on him,
And cleansed his wounds.—See, I will go forth now
And break the hard earth for his grave: so thou
And I will haste together, to set free
Our oars at last to beat the homeward sea!
[He goes out with his Soldiers, leaving the body of the Child in HECUBA'S arms.
HECUBA.
Set the great orb of Hector's shield to lie
Here on the ground. 'Tis bitter that mine eye
Should see it…. O ye Argives, was your spear
Keen, and your hearts so low and cold, to fear
This babe? 'Twas a strange murder for brave
men!
For fear this babe some day might raise again
His fallen land! Had ye so little pride?
While Hector fought, and thousands at his side,
Ye smote us, and we perished; and now, now,
When all are dead and Ilion lieth low,
Ye dread this innocent! I deem it not
Wisdom, that rage of fear that hath no thought….
Ah, what a death hath found thee, little one!
Hadst thou but fallen fighting, hadst thou known
Strong youth and love and all the majesty
Of godlike kings, then had we spoken of thee
As of one blessed … could in any wise
These days know blessedness. But now thine eyes
Have seen, thy lips have tasted, but thy soul
No knowledge had nor usage of the whole
Rich life that lapt thee round…. Poor little child!
91
Was it our ancient wall, the circuit piled
By loving Gods, so savagely hath rent
Thy curls, these little flowers innocent
That were thy mother's garden, where she laid
Her kisses; here, just where the bone-edge frayed
Grins white above—Ah heaven, I will not see!
Ye tender arms, the same dear mould have ye
As his; how from the shoulder loose ye drop
And weak! And dear proud lips, so full of hope
And closed for ever! What false words ye said
At daybreak, when he crept into my bed,
Called me kind names, and promised: 'Grandmother,
When thou art dead, I will cut close my hair
And lead out all the captains to ride by
Thy tomb.' Why didst thou cheat me so? 'Tis I,
Old, homeless, childless, that for thee must shed
Cold tears, so young, so miserably dead.
Dear God, the pattering welcomes of thy feet,
The nursing in my lap; and O, the sweet
Falling asleep together! All is gone.
How should a poet carve the funeral stone
To tell thy story true? 'There lieth here
A babe whom the Greeks feared, and in their fear
Slew him.' Aye, Greece will bless the tale it
tells!
Child, they have left thee beggared of all else
In Hector's house; but one thing shalt thou keep,
This war-shield bronzen-barred, wherein to sleep.
Alas, thou guardian true of Hector's fair
Left arm, how art thou masterless! And there
I see his handgrip printed on thy hold;
And deep stains of the precious sweat, that rolled
In battle from the brows and beard of him,
Drop after drop, are writ about thy rim.
Go, bring them—such poor garments hazardous
As these days leave. God hath not granted us
Wherewith to make much pride. But all I can,
I give thee, Child of Troy.—O vain is man,
Who glorieth in his joy and hath no fears:
While to and fro the chances of the years
Dance like an idiot in the wind! And none
By any strength hath his own fortune won.
92
[During these lines several Women are seen approaching with garlands and raiment in
their hands.
LEADER.
Lo these, who bear thee raiment harvested
From Ilion's slain, to fold upon the dead.
[During the following scene HECUBA gradually takes the garments and wraps them
about the Child.
HECUBA.
O not in pride for speeding of the car
Beyond thy peers, not for the shaft of war
True aimed, as Phrygians use; not any prize
Of joy for thee, nor splendour in men's eyes,
Thy father's mother lays these offerings
About thee, from the many fragrant things
That were all thine of old. But now no more.
One woman, loathed of God, hath broke the door
And robbed thy treasure-house, and thy warm breath
Made cold, and trod thy people down to death!
CHORUS. Some Women.
Deep in the heart of me
I feel thine hand,
Mother: and is it he
Dead here, our prince to be,
And lord of the land?
HECUBA.
Glory of Phrygian raiment, which my thought
Kept for thy bridal day with some far-sought
Queen of the East, folds thee for evermore.
And thou, grey Mother, Mother-Shield that bore
THE TROJAN WOMEN
A thousand days of glory, thy last crown
Is here…. Dear Hector's shield! Thou shalt lie
down
Undying with the dead, and lordlier there
Than all the gold Odysseus' breast can bear,
The evil and the strong!
CHORUS. Some Women.
93
Child of the Shield-bearer,
Alas, Hector's child!
Great Earth, the All-mother,
Taketh thee unto her
With wailing wild!
Others.
Mother of misery,
Give Death his song!
(HEC. Woe!) Aye and bitterly
(HEC. Woe!) We too weep for thee,
And the infinite wrong!
[During these lines HECUBA, kneeling by the body, has been performing a funeral
rite, symbolically staunching the dead Child's wounds.
HECUBA.
I make thee whole;
I bind thy wounds, O little vanished soul.
This wound and this I heal with linen white:
O emptiness of aid!… Yet let the rite
Be spoken. This and…. Nay, not I, but he,
Thy father far away shall comfort thee!
[She bows her head to the ground and remains motionless and unseeing.
CHORUS.
Beat, beat thine head:
Beat with the wailing chime
Of hands lifted in time:
Beat and bleed for the dead.
Woe is me for the dead!
HECUBA.
O Women! Ye, mine own….
[She rises bewildered, as though she had seen a vision.
LEADER.
Hecuba, speak!
Oh, ere thy bosom break….
HECUBA.
Lo, I have seen the open hand of God;
And in it nothing, nothing, save the rod
Of mine affliction, and the eternal hate,
94
Beyond all lands, chosen and lifted great
For Troy! Vain, vain were prayer and incense-swell
And bulls' blood on the altars!… All is well.
Had He not turned us in His hand, and thrust
Our high things low and shook our hills as dust,
We had not been this splendour, and our wrong
An everlasting music for the song
Of earth and heaven!
Go, women: lay our dead
In his low sepulchre. He hath his meed
Of robing. And, methinks, but little care
Toucheth the tomb, if they that moulder there
Have rich encerement. 'Tis we, 'tis we,
That dream, we living and our vanity!
[The Women bear out the dead Child upon the shield, singing, when presently flames of
fire and dim forms are seen among the ruins of the City.
CHORUS. Some Women.
Woe for the mother that bare thee, child,
Thread so frail of a hope so high,
That Time hath broken: and all men smiled
About thy cradle, and, passing by,
Spoke of thy father's majesty.
Low, low, thou liest!
Others.
Ha! Who be these on the crested rock?
Fiery hands in the dusk, and a shock
Of torches flung! What lingereth still,
O wounded City, of unknown ill,
Ere yet thou diest?
TALTHYBIUS (coming out through the ruined Wall).
Ye Captains that have charge to wreck this keep
Of Priam's City, let your torches sleep
No more! Up, fling the fire into her heart!
Then have we done with Ilion, and may part
In joy to Hellas from this evil land.
And ye—so hath one word two faces—stand,
Daughters of Troy, till on your ruined wall
The echo of my master's trumpet call
95
In signal breaks: then, forward to the sea,
Where the long ships lie waiting.
And for thee,
O ancient woman most unfortunate,
Follow: Odysseus' men be here, and wait
To guide thee…. 'Tis to him thou go'st for thrall.
HECUBA.
Ah, me! and is it come, the end of all,
The very crest and summit of my days?
I go forth from my land, and all its ways
Are filled with fire! Bear me, O aged feet,
A little nearer: I must gaze, and greet
My poor town ere she fall.
Farewell, farewell!
O thou whose breath was mighty on the swell
Of orient winds, my Troy! Even thy name
Shall soon be taken from thee. Lo, the flame
Hath thee, and we, thy children, pass away
To slavery…. God! O God of mercy!… Nay:
Why call I on the Gods? They know, they know,
My prayers, and would not hear them long ago.
Quick, to the flames! O, in thine agony,
My Troy, mine own, take me to die with thee!
[She springs toward the flames, but is seized and held by the Soldiers.
TALTHYBIUS.
Back! Thou art drunken with thy miseries,
Poor woman!—Hold her fast, men, till it please
Odysseus that she come. She was his lot
Chosen from all and portioned. Lose her not!
[He goes to watch over the burning of the City. The dusk deepens.
CHORUS. Divers Women.
Woe, woe, woe!
Thou of the Agesxxxi, O wherefore fleëst thou,
Lord of the Phrygian, Father that made us?
'Tis we, thy children; shall no man aid us?
'Tis we, thy children! Seëst thou, seëst thou?
xxxi
[Thou of the Ages.]—The Phrygian All-Father, identified with Zeus, son of Kronos.
96
Others.
He seëth, only his heart is pitiless;
And the land dies: yea, she,
She of the Mighty Cities perisheth citiless!
Troy shall no more be!
Others.
Woe, woe, woe!
Ilion shineth afar!
Fire in the deeps thereof,
Fire in the heights above,
And crested walls of War!
Others.
As smoke on the wing of heaven
Climbeth and scattereth,
Torn of the spear and driven,
The land crieth for death:
O stormy battlements that red fire hath riven,
And the sword's angry breath!
[A new thought comes to HECUBA; she kneels and beats the earth with her hands.
HECUBA.
[Strophe.
O Earth, Earth of my children; hearken! and O
mine own,
Ye have hearts and forget not, ye in the darkness
lying!
LEADER.
Now hast thou found thy prayer, crying to them that are gone.
HECUBA.
Surely my knees are weary, but I kneel above your
head;
Hearken, O ye so silent! My hands beat your bed!
LEADER.
I, I am near thee;
I kneel to thy dead to hear thee,
Kneel to mine own in the darkness; O husband, hear
my crying!
97
HECUBA.
Even as the beasts they drive, even as the loads they
bear,
LEADER.
(Pain; O pain!)
HECUBA.
We go to the house of bondage. Hear, ye dead, O
hear!
LEADER.
(Go, and come not again!)
HECUBA.
Priam, mine own Priam,
Lying so lowly,
Thou in thy nothingness,
Shelterless, comfortless,
See'st thou the thing I am?
Know'st thou my bitter stress?
LEADER.
Nay, thou art naught to him!
Out of the strife there came,
Out of the noise and shame,
Making his eyelids dim,
Death, the Most Holy!
[The fire and smoke rise constantly higher.
HECUBA.
[Antistrophe.
O high houses of Gods, beloved streets of my birth,
Ye have found the way of the sword, the fiery and
blood-red river!
LEADER.
Fall, and men shall forget you! Ye shall lie in the gentle earth.
HECUBA.
The dust as smoke riseth; it spreadeth wide its wing; It maketh me as a
shadow, and my City a vanished thing!
LEADER.
98
Out on the smoke she goeth,
And her name no man knoweth;
And the cloud is northward, southward; Troy is gone
for ever!
[A great crash is heard, and the Wall is lost in smoke and darkness.
HECUBA.
Ha! Marked ye? Heard ye? The crash of the towers that fall!
LEADER.
All is gone!
HECUBA.
Wrath in the earth and quaking and a flood that sweepeth all,
LEADER.
And passeth on! [The Greek trumpet sounds.
HECUBA.
Farewell!—O spirit grey,
Whatso is coming,
Fail not from under me.
Weak limbs, why tremble ye?
Forth where the new long day
Dawneth to slavery!
CHORUS.
Farewell from parting lips,
Farewell!—Come, I and thou,
Whatso may wait us now,
Forth to the long Greek ships
And the sea's foaming.
[The trumpet sounds again, and the Women go out in the darkness.
THE END.
99
Sappho
Poems
TRANS. BY EDWIN MARION COX
- HYMN TO APHRODITE Shimmering-throned immortal Aphrodite,
Daughter of Zeus, Enchantress, I implore thee,
Spare me, O queen, this agony and anguish,
Crush not my spirit.
Whenever before thou hast hearkened to me—
To my voice calling to thee in the distance,
And heeding, thou hast come, leaving thy father's
Golden dominions,
With chariot yoked to thy fleet-winged coursers,
Fluttering swift pinions over earth's darkness,
And bringing thee through the infinite, gliding
Downwards from heaven,
Then, soon they arrived and thou, blessed goddess,
With divine contenance smiling, didst ask me
What new woe had befallen me now and why,
Thus I had called thee.
What in my mad heart was my greatest desire,
Who was it now that must feel my allurements,
Who was the fair one that must be persuaded,
Who wronged thee Sappho?
For if now she flees, quickly she shall follow
And if she spurns gifts, soon shall she offer them
Yea, if she knows not love, soon shall she feel it
Even reluctant.
Come then, I pray, grant me surcease from sorrow,
Drive away care, I beseech thee, O goddess
Fulfil for me what I yearn to accomplish,
thou my ally.
- SECOND POEM Peer of the gods, the happiest man I seem
Sitting before thee, rapt at thy sight, hearing
Thy soft laughter and thy voice most gentle,
Speaking so sweetly.
Then in my bosom my heart wildly flutters,
And, when on thee I gaze never so little,
Bereft am I of all power of utterance,
My tongue is useless.
102
SAPPHO
There rushes at once through my flesh tingling fire,
My eyes are deprived of all power of vision,
My ears hear nothing but sounds of winds roaring,
And all is blackness.
Down courses in streams the sweat of emotion,
A dread trembling o'erwhelms me, paler am I
Than dried grass in autumn, and in my madness
Dead I seem almost.
- THIRD POEM A troop of horse, the serried ranks of marchers,
A noble fleet, some think these of all on earth
Most beautiful. For me naught else regarding
Is my beloved.
To understand this is for all most simple,
For thus gazing much on mortal perfection
And knowing already what life could give her,
Him chose fair Helen,
Him the betrayer of Ilium's honour.
Then recked she not of adored child or parent,
But yielded to love, and forced by her passion,
Dared Fate in exile.
103
Thus quickly is bent the will of that woman
To whom things near and dear seem to be nothing.
So mightest thou fail, My Anactoria,
If she were with you.
She whose gentle footfall and radiant face
Hold the power to charm more than a vision
Of chariots and the mail-clad battalions
Of Lydia's army.
So must we learn in a world made as this one
Man can never attain his greatest desire,
But must pray for what good fortune Fate holdeth,
Never unmindful.
- FOURTH POEM The gleaming stars all about the shining moon
Hide their bright faces, when full-orbed and splendid
In the sky she floats, flooding the shadowed earth
with clear silver light.
104
SAPPHO
- FIFTH POEM By the cool water the breeze murmurs, rustling
Through apple branches, while from quivering leaves
Streams down deep slumber.
- INVOCATION TO APHRODITE Come hither foam-born Cyprian goddess, come,
And in golden goblets pour richest nectar
All mixed in most ethereal perfection,
Thus to delight us.
105
Pindar
Odes of Pindar
TRANS. AND NOTES BY ERNEST MYERS
- 5TH NEMEAN ODE For Pytheas Of Aigina,
Winner In The Boys' Pankration.
The date of this ode is uncertain. The winner's brother Phylakidas, gained the two victories, also
in the pankration, which are celebrated in the fourth and fifth Isthmians.
N
o statuary I, that I should fashion images to rest idly on their
pedestals, nay but by every trading-ship and plying boat forth
from Aigina fare, sweet song of mine, and bear abroad the news,
how that Lampon's son, the strong-limbed Pytheas, hath won at Nemea
the pankratiast's crown, while on his cheeks he showeth not as yet the
vine-bloom's mother, mellowing midsummer.
So to the warrior heroes sprung from Kronos and Zeus and from the
golden nymphs, even to the Aiakidai, hath he done honour, and to the
mother-city, a friendly field to strangers. That she should have issue of
goodly men and should be famous in her ships, this prayed they of old,
standing beside the altar of their grandsire, Zeus Hellenios, and together
stretched forth their hands toward heaven, even the glorious sons of
Endaisi and the royal strength of Phokos, the goddess-born, whom on the
sea-beach Psamatheiaii bare. Of their deed portentous and unjustly dared I
am loth to tell, and how they left that famous isle, and of the fate that
drove the valiant heroes from Oinone. I will make pause: not for every
i
Wife of Aiakos and mother of Peleus and Telamon. They killed Phokos.
ii
A sea-nymph, mother of Phokos by Aiakos.
perfect truth is it best that it discover its face: silence is oft man's wisest
thought.
But if the praise of good hap or of strength of hand or of steel-clad war
be my resolve, let one mark me a line for a long leap hence: in my knees I
have a nimble spring: even beyond the sea the eagles wing their way.
With goodwill too for the Aiakidai in Pelion sang the Muses' choir most
fair, and in the midst Apollo playing with golden quill upon his seventoned lyre led them in ever-changing strains. They first of all from Zeus
beginning sang of holy Thetis and of Peleus, and how that Kretheus'
dainty daughter Hippolyte would fain have caught him by her wile, and
persuaded his friend the king of the Magnetes her husband by counsels of
deceit, for she forged a lying tale thereto devised, how that he essayed to
go in unto her in Akastos' bridal bed. But the truth was wholly contrary
thereto, for often and with all her soul she had besought him with
beguiling speech; but her bold words vexed his spirit; and forthwith he
refused the bride, fearing the wrath of the Father who guardeth host and
guest. And he, the cloud-compelling Zeus in heaven, the immortal's king,
was aware thereof, and he promised him that with all speed he would find
him a sea-bride from among the Nereids of golden distaffs, having
persuaded thereto Poseidon, their kinsman by his marriage, who from
Aigai to the famous Dorian Isthmus cometh oftentimes, where happy
troops with the reed-flute's noise welcome the god, and in bold strength
of limb men strive.
The fate that is born with a man is arbiter of all his acts. Thou,
Euthymenes iii, at Aigina falling into the goddess victory's arms didst win
thee hymns of subtle strain: yea and now too to thee, O Pytheas, who art
his kinsman of the same stock and followest in his footsteps, doth thy
mother's brother honour. Nemea is favourable unto him, and the month iv
of his country that Apollo loveth: the youth that came to strive with him
he overcame, both at home and by Nisos' hill of pleasant gladesv. I have
joy that the whole state striveth for glory. Know that through
iii
Maternal uncle of Pytheas.
iv
The month called in Aigina Delphinios (April-May) when the Nemean games took place.
v
At Megara
108
PINDAR
Menander's vi aid thou hast attained unto sweet recompense of toils. And
meet it is that from Athens a fashioner of athletes come.
But if thou comest to Themistiosvii, to sing of him, away with chill reserve,
shout aloud, hoist to the top-yard of the mast the sail, and tell how in the
boxing and the pankration at Epidauros he won a double prize of valour,
and to the portals of Aiakos bare fresh wreaths of flowers, led by the
Graces of the yellow hair.
- 10th PYTHIAN ODE For Hippokleas Of Thessaly,
Winner In The Two-Stadion Foot-Race Of Boys.
The only reason we know for the digression about Perseus which occupies great part of this ode
seems to be that Thorax, who engaged Pindar to write it for Hippokleas, and perhaps
Hippokleas himself, belonged to the family of the Aleuadai, who were descended through
Herakles from Perseus.
This ode is the earliest entire poem of Pindar's which survives. He wrote it when he was twenty
years old. The simplicity of the style and manner of composition are significant of this. But there
can scarcely be said to be traces here of Pindar's early tendency in dealing with mythological
allusions to 'sow not with the hand but with the whole sack,' which Korinna advised him to
correct, and which is conspicuous in a fragment remaining to us of one of his Hymns.
H
appy is Lakedaimon, blessed is Thessaly: in both there reigneth a
race sprung from one sire, from Herakles bravest in the fight.
What vaunt is this unseasonable? Nay, now, but Pytho calleth
me, and Pelinnaionviii, and the sons of Aleuas who would fain lead forth
the loud voices of a choir of men in honour of Hippokleas.
vi
Pytheas' trainer, an Athenian.
vii
Maternal grandfather of Pytheas.
viii
Hippokleas' birth-place
109
For now hath he tasted the joy of games, and to the host of the dwellers
round about hath the valley beneath Parnassos proclaimed him best
among the boys who ran the double raceix.
O Apollo, sweet is the end when men attain thereto, and the beginning
availed more when it is speeded of a god. Surely of thy devising were his
deeds: and this his inborn valour hath trodden in the footsteps of his
father twice victor at Olympia in panoply of war-affronting arms x:
moreover the games in the deep meadow beneath Kirrha's cliff gave
victory to the fleet feet of Phrikiasxi.
May good luck follow them, so that even in after days the splendour of
their wealth shall bloom. Of the pleasant things of Hellas they have no
scanty portion to their lot; may they happen on no envious repentings of
the gods. A god's heart, it may be, is painless ever; but happy and a theme
of poet's song is that man who for his valiance of hands or feet the
chiefest prizes hath by strength and courage won, and in his life-time seen
his young son by good hap attaining to the Pythian crown. Never indeed
shall he climb the brazen heaven, but whatsoever splendours we of mortal
race may reach, through such he hath free course even to the utmost
harbourage. But neither by taking ship, neither by any travel on foot, to
the Hyperborean folk shalt thou find the wondrous way.
Yet of old the chieftain Perseus entered into their houses and feasted
among them, when that he had lighted on them as they were sacrificing
ample hecatombs of asses to their god. For ever in their feasts and hymns
hath Apollo especial joy, and laugheth to see the braying ramp of the
strange beasts. Nor is the Muse a stranger to their lives, but everywhere
are stirring to and fro dances of maidens and shrill noise of pipes: and
binding golden bay-leaves in their hair they make them merry cheer. Nor
pestilence nor wasting eld approach that hallowed race: they toil not
neither do they fight, and dwell unharmed of cruel Nemesis.
ix
Down the stadion (220 yards) and back.
I.E. in the race run in full armour, like that at Pytho which Telesikrates, of Kyrene won,
celebrated in the fore-going ode.
x
xi
Probably a horse with which Hippokleas' father won a race at Pytho.
110
PINDAR
In the eagerness of his valiant heart went of old the son of Danaë, for that
Athene led him on his way, unto the company of that blessed folk. Also
he slew the Gorgon and bare home her head with serpent tresses decked,
to the island folk a stony death. I ween there is no marvel impossible if
gods have wrought thereto.
Let go the oar, and quickly drive into the earth an anchor from the prow,
to save us from the rocky reef, for the glory of my song of praise flitteth
like a honey-bee from tale to tale.
I have hope that when the folk of Ephyra pour forth my sweet strains by
Peneus' side, yet more glorious shall I make their Hippokleas for his
crowns and by my songs among his fellows and his elders, and I will make
him possess the minds of the young maidens.
For various longings stir secretly the minds of various men; yet each if he
attain to the thing he striveth for will hold his eager desire for the time
present to him, but what a year shall bring forth, none shall foreknow by
any sign.
My trust is in the kindly courtesy of my host Thorax, of him who to speed
my fortune hath yoked this four-horse car of the Pierides, as friend for
friend, and willing guide for guide.
As gold to him that trieth it by a touch-stone, so is a true soul known.
His noble brethren also will we praise, for that they exalt and make great
the Thessalians' commonwealth. For in the hands of good men lieth the
good piloting of the cities wherein their fathers ruled.
111
- 1ST OLYPIAN ODE For Hieron Of Syracuse,
Winner In The Horse-Race.
This ode seems to owe its position at the head of Pindar's extant works to Aristophanes the
grammarian, who placed it there on account of its being specially occupied with the glorification of
the Olympic games in comparison with others, and with the story of Pelops, who was their
founder.
Hieron won this race B.C. 472, while at the height of his power at Syracuse. Probably the ode
was sung at Syracuse, perhaps, as has been suggested, at a banquet.
B
est is Water of all, and Gold as a flaming fire in the night shineth
eminent amid lordly wealth; but if of prizes in the games thou art
fain, O my soul, to tell, then, as for no bright star more quickening
than the sun must thou search in the void firmament by day, so neither
shall we find any games greater than the Olympic whereof to utter our
voice: for hence cometh the glorious hymn and entereth into the minds of
the skilled in song, so that they celebrate the son xii of Kronos, when to the
rich and happy hearth of Hieron they are come; for he wieldeth the
sceptre of justice in Sicily of many flocks, culling the choice fruits of all
kinds of excellence: and with the flower of music is he made splendid,
even such strains as we sing blithely at the table of a friend.
Take from the peg the Dorian lute, if in any wise the glory of
Pherenikosxiii at Pisa hath swayed thy soul unto glad thoughts, when by
the banks of Alpheos he ran, and gave his body ungoaded in the course,
and brought victory to his master, the Syracusans' king, who delighteth in
horses.
Bright is his fame in Lydian Pelops' colonyxiv, inhabited of a goodly race,
whose founder mighty earth-enfolding Poseidon loved, what time from
xii
The Olympic games were sacred to Zeus.
xiii
The horse that won this race for Hieron.
xiv
Peloponnesos.
112
PINDAR
the vessel of purifyingxv Klotho took him with the bright ivory
furnishment of his shoulder.
Verily many things are wondrous, and haply tales decked out with cunning
fables beyond the truth make false men's speech concerning them. For
Charisxvi, who maketh all sweet things for mortal men, by lending honour
unto such maketh oft the unbelievable thing to be believed; but the days
that follow after are the wisest witnesses.
Meet is it for a man that concerning gods he speak honourably; for the
reproach is less. Of thee, son of Tantalos, I will speak contrariwise to
them who have gone before me, and I will tell how when thy father had
bidden thee to that most seemly feast at his beloved Sipylos, repaying to
the gods their banquet, then did he of the Bright Tridentxvii, his heart
vanquished by love, snatch thee and bear thee behind his golden steeds to
the house of august Zeus in the highest, whither again on a like errand
came Ganymede in the after time.
But when thou hadst vanished, and the men who sought thee long
brought thee not to thy mother, some one of the envious neighbours said
secretly that over water heated to boiling they had hewn asunder with a
knife thy limbs, and at the tables had shared among them and eaten
sodden fragments of thy flesh. But to me it is impossible to call one of the
blessed gods cannibal; I keep aloof; in telling ill tales is often little gain.
Now if any man ever had honour of the guardians of Olympus, Tantalos
was that man; but his high fortune he could not digest, and by excess
thereof won him an overwhelming woe, in that the Father hath hung
above him a mighty stone that he would fain ward from his head, and
therewithal he is fallen from joy.
I.E. immediately on his birth, for among the Fates Klotho was peculiarly concerned with
the beginning of man's life. Pindar refuses to accept the legend which made Pelops' ivory
shoulder a substitute for his fleshly one eaten at Tantalos' table by the gods; for thus the
gods would have been guilty of an infamous act.
xv
Goddess of Grace or Beauty. Often there are three Charites or Graces. Pindar means
here that men are prone to believe an untrue tale for the sake of the beauty of the form in
which it is presented, but that such tales will not stand the test of time.
xvi
xvii
Poseidon.
113
This hopeless life of endless misery he endureth with other three xviii, for
that he stole from the immortals and gave to his fellows at a feast the
nectar and ambrosia, whereby the gods had made him incorruptible. But if
a man thinketh that in doing aught he shall be hidden from God, he
erreth.
Therefore also the immortals sent back again his son to be once more
counted with the short-lived race of men. And he when toward the bloom
of his sweet youth the down began to shade his darkening cheek, took
counsel with himself speedily to take to him for his wife the noble
Hippodameia from her Pisan father's hand.
And he came and stood upon the margin of the hoary sea, alone in the
darkness of the night, and called aloud on the deep-voiced Wielder of the
Trident; and he appeared unto him nigh at his foot.
Then he said unto him: 'Lo now, O Poseidon, if the kind gifts of the
Cyprian goddess are anywise pleasant in thine eyes, restrain Oinomaos'
bronze spear, and send me unto Elis upon a chariot exceeding swift, and
give the victory to my hands. Thirteen lovers already hath Oinomaos
slain, and still delayeth to give his daughter in marriage. Now a great peril
alloweth not of a coward: and forasmuch as men must die, wherefore
should one sit vainly in the dark through a dull and nameless age, and
without lot in noble deeds? Not so, but I will dare this strife: do thou give
the issue I desire.'
Thus spake he, nor were his words in vain: for the god made him a
glorious gift of a golden car and winged untiring steeds: so he overcame
Oinomaos and won the maiden for his bride.
And he begat six sons, chieftains, whose thoughts were ever of brave
deeds: and now hath he part in honour of blood-offerings in his grave
beside Alpheos' stream, and hath a frequented tomb, whereto many
strangers resort: and from afar off he beholdeth the glory of the Olympian
games in the courses called of Pelops, where is striving of swift feet and
xviii
Sisyphos, Ixion, and Tityos.
114
PINDAR
of strong bodies brave to labour; but he that overcometh hath for the
sake of those games a sweet tranquillity throughout his life for evermore.
Now the good that cometh of to-day is ever sovereign unto every man.
My part it is to crown Hieron with an equestrian strain in Aeolian mood:
and sure am I that no host among men that now are shall I ever glorify in
sounding labyrinths of song more learned in the learning of honour and
withal with more might to work thereto. A god hath guard over thy
hopes, O Hieron, and taketh care for them with a peculiar care: and if he
fail thee not, I trust that I shall again proclaim in song a sweeter glory yet,
and find thereto in words a ready way, when to the fair-shining hill of
Kronos I am come. Her strongest-wingëd dart my Muse hath yet in store.
Of many kinds is the greatness of men; but the highest is to be achieved
by kings. Look not thou for more than this. May it be thine to walk loftily
all thy life, and mine to be the friend of winners in the games, winning
honour for my art among Hellenes everywhere.
- 1st ISTHMIAN ODE For Herodotos Of Thebes.
Winner In The Chariot-Race.
The date of this ode is unknown. We gather from the first strophe that Pindar was engaged at
the time to write an ode in honour of the Delian Apollo to be sung at Keos, but that he put this
off in order first to write the present ode in honour of a victory won for his own native state of
Thebes.
O
mother, Thebe of the golden shield, thy service will I set even
above the matter that was in my hand. May rocky Delos,
whereto I am vowed, be not therefore wroth with me. Is there
aught dearer to the good than noble parents?
Give place O Apollonian isle: these twain fair offices, by the grace of
God, will I join together in their end, and to Phoibos of the unshorn hair
115
in island Keos with men of her sea-race will I make my choral song, and
therewithal this other for the sea-prisoning cliffs of Isthmos.
For six crowns hath Isthmos given from her games to the people of
Kadmos, a fair glory of triumph for my country, for the land wherein
Alkmene bare her dauntless son, before whom trembled aforetime the
fierce hounds of Geryon.
But I for Herodotos' praise am fain to do honour unto his four-horsed
car, and to marry to the strain of Kastoreian or Iolaic song the fame that
he hath earned, handling his reins in his own and no helping hand.
For these Kastor and Iolaos were of all heroes the mightiest charioteers,
the one to Lakedaimon, the other born to Thebes. And at the games they
entered oftenest for the strife, and with tripods and caldrons and cups of
gold they made fair their houses, attaining unto victorious crowns: clear
shineth their prowess in the foot-race, run naked or with the heavy
clattering shield; and when they hurled the javelin and the quoit: for then
was there no five-fold game, but for each several feat there was a prize.
Oft did they bind about their hair a crowd of crowns, and showed
themselves unto the waters of Dirke or on Eurotas' banks xix, the son of
Iphikles a fellow-townsman of the Spartoi's race, the son of Tyndareus
inhabiting the upland dwelling-place of Therapnaxx among the Achaians.
So hail ye and farewell: I on Poseidon and holy Isthmos, and on the lakeshores of Onchestos will throw the mantle of my song, and will among
the glories of this man make glorious also the story of his father
Asopodoros' fate, and his new country Orchomenos, which, when he
drave ashore on a wrecked ship, harboured him amid his dismal hapxxi.
But now once more hath the fortune of his house raised him up to see the
Rivers were [Greek: kourotrophoi] (nurturers of youth), and thus young men who had
achieved bodily feats were especially bound to return thanks to the streams of their native
places.
xix
xx
In Lakonia.
Asopodoros seems to have been banished from Thebes and kindly received in his
banishment by Orchomenos.
xxi
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PINDAR
fair days of the old time: and he who hath suffered pain beareth
forethought within his soul.
If a man's desire be wholly after valour, and he give thereto both wealth
and toil, meet is it that to such as attain unto it we offer with ungrudging
heart high meed of praise. For an easy gift it is for a son of wisdom xxii, by
a good word spoken in recompense for labour manifold to set on high the
public fame. For diverse meeds for diverse works are sweet to men, to the
shepherd and to the ploughman, to the fowler and to him whom the sea
feedeth—howbeit all those strive but to keep fierce famine from their
bellies; but whoso in the games or in war hath won delightful fame,
receiveth the highest of rewards in fair words of citizens and of strangers.
Us it beseemeth to requite the earth-shaking son of Kronos, who is also
neighbour unto us, and to sound his praise as our well-doer, who hath
given speed to the horses of our car, and to call upon thy sons xxiii,
Amphitryon, and the inland dwellingxxiv of Minyas, and the famous grove
of Demeter, even Eleusis, and Euboia with her curving race-course. And
thy holy place, Protesilas, add I unto these, built thee at Phylake by
Achaian men.
But to tell over all that Hermes lord of games hath given to Herodotos by
his horses, the short space of my hymn alloweth not. Yea and full oft doth
the keeping of silence bring forth a larger joy.
Now may Herodotos, up-borne upon the sweet-voiced Muse's shining
wings, yet again with wreaths from Pytho and choice wreaths from
Alpheos from the Olympian games entwine his hand, and bring honour
unto seven-gated Thebes.
Now if one at home store hidden wealth, and fall upon other men to
mock them, this man considereth not that he shall give up his soul to
death having known no good report.
xxii
Here, as elsewhere probably in the special sense of a poet.
xxiii
Herakles and Iolaos.
xxiv
Orchomenos.
117
Theocritus
IDYLLS
TRANS. BY C.S. CALVERLEY
- IDYLL I. THYRSIS. A GOATHERD.
THYRSIS.
Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes
Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet
Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone.
Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat.
Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid;
And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids.
GOATHERD.
Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams
Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag.
If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe,
Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose
The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe.
THYRSIS.
Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here
Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade,
And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats.
GOATHERD.
I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe
At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour
Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he;
Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel.
But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes;
High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy:
Then rest we in the shadow of the elm
Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs.
There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat,
Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him
Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first,
To milk, ay thrice, a goat—she suckles twins,
Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;—
Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured,
Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet
0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs
About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays
Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts
Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears
A damsel ('tis a miracle of art)
In robe and snood: and suitors at her side
With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left,
Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart.
She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now
Her chance regards on that: they, all for love
Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost.
Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands
On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains
Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils
Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame
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THEOCRITUS
Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck
(In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell.
Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends
Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes;
A boy sits on the rude fence watching them.
Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes
One ranging steals the ripest; one assails
With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon
Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile
With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap,
And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip,
Little he cares, enamoured of his toy.
The cup is hung all round with lissom briar,
Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight.
It was a ferryman's of Calydon:
A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese.
Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still
It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou,
If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays.
I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own
In the dim land where all things are forgot.
THYSIS [sings].
Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song.
The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I.
Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined?
In fair Penëus' or in Pindus' glens?
For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt,
Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill.
121
O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him;
The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death.
The kine and oxen stood around his feet,
The heifers and the calves wailed all for him.
First from the mountain Hermes came, and said,
"Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?"
Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came;
All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came
And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid
Foots it round every pool and every grove,
(Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song)
"O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee;
Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called.
With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids
Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they:
(Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song):
"With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh
Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee."
Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone
His bitter portion, till the fatal end.
Came Aphroditè, smiles on her sweet face,
False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake:
"So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love!
But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee."
Then "Ruthless Aphroditè," Daphnis said,
"Accursed Aphroditè, foe to man!
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THEOCRITUS
Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set?
Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe."
"Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say)
And Aphroditè—to Anchises fly:
There are oak-forests; here but galingale,
And bees that make a music round the hives.
"Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks
And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down.
"Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain
The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.'
"Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear!
Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen
Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell,
And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side.
"I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine,
Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves.
"Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags
Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Mænalus,
Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now
Rhium and Helicè, and the mountain-cairn
(That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son!
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song.
"Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact
With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip:
123
For surely I am torn from life by Love.
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song.
"From thicket now and thorn let violets spring,
Now let white lilies drape the juniper,
And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong:
For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds,
And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale.
Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song."
So spake he, and he never spake again.
Fain Aphroditè would have raised his head;
But all his thread was spun. So down the stream
Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head
Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved.
Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk
The one, and pour the other to the Muse.
Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell!
I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be.
GOATHERD.
Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb
Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus:
For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song.
Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells:
The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well.
Hither, Cissætha! Thou, go milk her! Kids,
Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram.
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THEOCRITUS
- IDYLL VI THE DRAWN BATTLE
DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS.
Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once
Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen.
One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard.
And by a brookside on a summer noon
The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led
The song, for Daphnis was the challenger.
DAPHNIS.
"See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit,
And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme.
Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye
Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog:
Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks,
And, through the clear wave visible to her still,
Careers along the gently babbling beach.
Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen
From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs.
She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs
In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed,
Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win;
For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love."
And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang.
DAMOETAS.
"I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind,
125
By Pan, by this my one my precious eye
That bounds my vision now and evermore!
But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe,
His and his children's, that he promised me!
Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by,
Pretend to woo another:—and she hears
(Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy;
And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung,
Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock.
'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her;
For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay
His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note
Mayhap, and message send on message soon:
But I will bar my door until she swear
To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed.
And I am less unlovely than men say.
I looked into the mere (the mere was calm),
And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed
My solitary eye, and, half-revealed,
My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl.
Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe:
That learned I of the hag Cottytaris—her
Who fluted lately with Hippocoön's mowers."
Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly:
One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute.
Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe
The younglings bounded in the soft green grass:
And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both.
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THEOCRITUS
- IDYLL VII –
HARVEST-HOME
Once on a time did Eucritus and I
(With us Amyntas) to the riverside
Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons
Were that day busy with the harvest-home,
Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung
(If aught thou holdest by the good old names)
By Clytia from great Chalcon—him who erst
Planted one stalwart knee against the rock,
And lo, beneath his foot Burinè's rill
Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm
Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed
By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now,
Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas:
When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near
A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas.
The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell
So much: for every inch a herdsman he.
Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide
Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired,
That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped
A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff
A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore.
Soon with a quiet smile he spoke—his eye
Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip:
"And whither ploddest thou thy weary way
Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas?
127
For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall,
The crested lark folds now his wandering wing.
Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board?
Or townward to the treading of the grape?
For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet
The pavement-stones ring out right merrily."
Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none
Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match
At piping: and my soul is glad thereat.
Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee.
Now look, this road holds holiday to-day:
For banded brethren solemnise a feast
To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her
For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand
Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors.
So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine:
Try we our woodcraft—each may learn from each.
I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song;
All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not,
Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet
(I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard
Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song.
They are as cicadas challenged by a frog."
I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing light
He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed
A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand!
I hate your builders who would rear a house
High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle:
I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry
Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard.
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THEOCRITUS
But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas,
Our woodland music: and for my part I—
List, comrade, if you like the simple air
I forged among the uplands yesterday.
[Sings] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the main
To Mitylenè—though the southern blast
Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids,
Or low above the verge Orion stand—
If from Love's furnace she will rescue me,
For Lycidas is parched with hot desire.
Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds,
Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off
Flutters the seaweed—halcyons, of all birds
Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear
By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile
On her to Mitylenè voyaging,
And in fair harbour may she ride at last.
I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill
Or rose or simple violet on my brow,
Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask
Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans,
And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel
And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled
My bed of rushes, where in royal ease
I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain
With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs.
I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both,
This from Acharnæ, from Lycopè that;
And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing
129
How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid;
And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks
(Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal)
Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away
Like snow on Athos, or on Hæmus high,
Or Rhodopè, or utmost Caucasus.
And he shall sing me how the big chest held
(All through the maniac malice of his lord)
A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees,
Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell,
Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse
Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song.
Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine!
Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees
Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year:
And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick
In my day! I had led thy pretty goats
About the hill-side, listening to thy voice:
While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine,
Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly."
He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I.
"I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells,
Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs,
Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus.
But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first:
Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well.
[Sings] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless I
Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring.
But my best friend Aratus inly pines
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THEOCRITUS
For one who loves him not. Aristis saw—
(A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay
Shrinèd Apollo's self would scarce disdain)—
How love had scorched Aratus to the bone.
O Pan, who hauntest Homolè's fair champaign,
Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be,
Unbid to his sweet arms—so, gracious Pan,
May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed
With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er
They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer
Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep,
Dinted and sore all over from their claws!
Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills
By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist,
The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range
With the far Æthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks
Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves,
Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes
By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill,
Or fair Dionè's rocky pedestal,
And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike
The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend.
And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear?
The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.'
We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more,
Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock
Crow to wake others up to numb despair!
Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave:
While we make ease our study, and secure
Some witch, to charm all evil from our door."
131
I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before,
Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,'
And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while,
Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I,
And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay
Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed
And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we?
A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead;
Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on
From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs
The sweet cicada chirped laboriously.
Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away
The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark
Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan,
And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee.
All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all:
Pears at our feet, and apples at our side
Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground
Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed
From the cask's head the crust of four long years.
Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks,
Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er
Set before Heracles a cup so brave
In Pholus' cavern—did as nectarous draughts
Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand
Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong,
Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:—
As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us
All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home?
Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again
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THEOCRITUS
Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles,
Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm.
- IDYLL XI A GIANT’S WOOING
Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love,
Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one;
And this is light and pleasant to a man,
Yet hard withal to compass—minstrelsy.
As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech,
And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine.
'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease,
Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen
On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph:
No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer,
But a fell madman, blind to all but love.
Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep
Unbid: while he upon the windy beach,
Singing his Galatea, sat and pined
From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart:
Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there.
Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down
On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and sang:—
"White Galatea, why disdain thy love?
White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb,
Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes!
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If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large;
If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone,
Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near.
I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since,
To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell,
Thou and my mother, piloted by me.
I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth
For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee.
I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy:
Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans
From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye
Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip.
Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep
That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide:
In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still
Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows.
Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet,
Singing our loves—ours, honey, thine and mine—
At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven
(Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee.
Oh come to me—thou shalt not rue the day—
And let the mad seas beat against the shore!
'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night:
Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun,
And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there:
And a cold spring that pine-clad Ætna flings
Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods!
Who would not change for this the ocean-waves?
"But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken logs
Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire.
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THEOCRITUS
Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye,
Mine only eye wherein is my delight.
Oh why was I not born a finny thing,
To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand,
Denied thy lips—and bring thee lilies white
And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom!
Nay—summer hath his flowers and autumn his;
I could not bring all these the selfsame day.
Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road,
Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim,
That haply I may learn what bliss ye find
In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come
Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget
(As I do, sitting here) to get thee home:
And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth,
And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese!
"The blame's my mother's; she is false to me;
Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake,
Though day by day she sees me pine and pine.
I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet
To anguish her—as I am anguished now."
O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy wits?
Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs
To feed thy lambkins—'twere the shrewder part.
Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe:
The world hath Galateas fairer yet.
"—Many a fair damsel bids me sport with her
135
The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear.
On land at least I still am somebody."
Thus did the Giant feed his love on song,
And gained more ease than may be bought with gold.
136
Works and Days
Hesiod
TRANS. BY H. G. EVELYN-WHITE
- HYMN TO ZEUS [1] Muses of Pieria who give glory through song, come hither, tell of Zeus
your father and chant his praise. Through him mortal men are famed or
unfamed, sung or unsung alike, as great Zeus wills. For easily he makes
strong, and easily he brings the strong man low; easily he humbles the
proud and raises the obscure, and easily he straightens the crooked and
blasts the proud, -- Zeus who thunders aloft and has his dwelling most
high. Attend thou with eye and ear, and make judgements straight with
righteousness. And I, Perses, would tell of true things.
- TWO KINDS OF STRIFE –
[11] So, after all, there was not one kind of Strife alone, but all over the
earth there are two. As for the one, a man would praise her when he came
to understand her; but the other is blameworthy: and they are wholly
different in nature. For one fosters evil war and battle, being cruel: her no
man loves; but perforce, through the will of the deathless gods, men pay
harsh Strife her honour due. But the other is the elder daughter of dark
Night, and the son of Cronos who sits above and dwells in the aether, set
her in the roots of the earth: and she is far kinder to men. She stirs up
even the shiftless to toil; for a man grows eager to work when he
considers his neighbour, a rich man who hastens to plough and plant and
put his house in good order; and neighbour vies with is neighbour as he
hurries after wealth. This Strife is wholesome for men. And potter is angry
with potter, and craftsman with craftsman, and beggar is jealous of
beggar, and minstrel of minstrel.
[25] Perses, lay up these things in your heart, and do not let that Strife
who delights in mischief hold your heart back from work, while you peep
and peer and listen to the wrangles of the court-house. Little concern has
he with quarrels and courts who has not a year's victuals laid up betimes,
even that which the earth bears, Demeter's grain. When you have got
plenty of that, you can raise disputes and strive to get another's goods. But
you shall have no second chance to deal so again: nay, let us settle our
dispute here with true judgement divided our inheritance, but you seized
the greater share and carried it off, greatly swelling the glory of our bribeswallowing lords who love to judge such a cause as this. Fools! They
know not how much more the half is than the whole, nor what great
advantage there is in mallow and asphodel [poor man's fare].
- PANDORA AND THE JAR [42] For the gods keep hidden from men the means of life. Else you
would easily do work enough in a day to supply you for a full year even
without working; soon would you put away your rudder over the smoke,
and the fields worked by ox and sturdy mule would run to waste. But
Zeus in the anger of his heart hid it, because Prometheus the crafty
deceived him; therefore he planned sorrow and mischief against men. He
hid fire; but that the noble son of Iapetus stole again for men from Zeus
the counsellor in a hollow fennel-stalk, so that Zeus who delights in
thunder did not see it. But afterwards Zeus who gathers the clouds said to
him in anger:
[54] `Son of Iapetus, surpassing all in cunning, you are glad that you have
outwitted me and stolen fire -- a great plague to you yourself and to men
that shall be. But I will give men as the price for fire an evil thing in which
they may all be glad of heart while they embrace their own destruction.'
[60] So said the father of men and gods, and laughed aloud. And he bade
famous Hephaestus make haste and mix earth with water and to put in it
the voice and strength of human kind, and fashion a sweet, lovely maidenshape, like to the immortal goddesses in face; and Athene to teach her
needlework and the weaving of the varied web; and golden Aphrodite to
shed grace upon her head and cruel longing and cares that weary the
limbs. And he charged Hermes the guide, the Slayer of Argus, to put in
her a shameless mind and a deceitful nature.
[69] So he ordered. And they obeyed the lord Zeus the son of Cronos.
Forthwith the famous Lame God moulded clay in the likeness of a
modest maid, as the son of Cronos purposed. And the goddess brighteyed Athene girded and clothed her, and the divine Graces and queenly
Persuasion put necklaces of gold upon her, and the rich-haired Hours
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HESIOD: WORKS AND DAYS
crowned her head with spring flowers. And Pallas Athene bedecked her
form with all manners of finery. Also the Guide, the Slayer of Argus,
contrived within her lies and crafty words and a deceitful nature at the will
of loud thundering Zeus, and the Herald of the gods put speech in her.
And he called this woman Pandora (All Endowed), because all they who
dwelt on Olympus gave each a gift, a plague to men who eat bread.
[83] But when he had finished the sheer, hopeless snare, the Father sent
glorious Argus-Slayer, the swift messenger of the gods, to take it to
Epimetheus as a gift. And Epimetheus did not think on what Prometheus
had said to him, bidding him never take a gift of Olympian Zeus, but to
send it back for fear it might prove to be something harmful to men. But
he took the gift, and afterwards, when the evil thing was already his, he
understood.
[90] For ere this the tribes of men lived on earth remote and free from ills
and hard toil and heavy sickness which bring the Fates upon men; for in
misery men grow old quickly. But the woman took off the great lid of the
jar with her hands and scattered all these and her thought caused sorrow
and mischief to men. Only Hope remained there in an unbreakable home
within under the rim of the great jar, and did not fly out at the door; for
ere that, the lid of the jar stopped her, by the will of Aegis-holding Zeus
who gathers the clouds. But the rest, countless plagues, wander amongst
men; for earth is full of evils and the sea is full. Of themselves diseases
come upon men continually by day and by night, bringing mischief to
mortals silently; for wise Zeus took away speech from them. So is there
no way to escape the will of Zeus.
- THE AGES OF MAN [106] Or if you will, I will sum you up another tale well and skilfully -- and
do you lay it up in your heart, -- how the gods and mortal men sprang
from one source.
[109] First of all the deathless gods who dwell on Olympus made a golden
race of mortal men who lived in the time of Cronos when he was reigning
in heaven. And they lived like gods without sorrow of heart, remote and
free from toil and grief: miserable age rested not on them; but with legs
and arms never failing they made merry with feasting beyond the reach of
all evils. When they died, it was as though they were overcome with sleep,
and they had all good things; for the fruitful earth unforced bare them
fruit abundantly and without stint. They dwelt in ease and peace upon
their lands with many good things, rich in flocks and loved by the blessed
gods.
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[121] But after earth had covered this generation -- they are called pure
spirits dwelling on the earth, and are kindly, delivering from harm, and
guardians of mortal men; for they roam everywhere over the earth,
clothed in mist and keep watch on judgements and cruel deeds, givers of
wealth; for this royal right also they received; -- then they who dwell on
Olympus made a second generation which was of silver and less noble by
far. It was like the golden race neither in body nor in spirit. A child was
brought up at his good mother's side an hundred years, an utter
simpleton, playing childishly in his own home. But when they were full
grown and were come to the full measure of their prime, they lived only a
little time in sorrow because of their foolishness, for they could not keep
from sinning and from wronging one another, nor would they serve the
immortals, nor sacrifice on the holy altars of the blessed ones as it is right
for men to do wherever they dwell. Then Zeus the son of Cronos was
angry and put them away, because they would not give honour to the
blessed gods who live on Olympus.
[140] But when earth had covered this generation also -- they are called
blessed spirits of the underworld by men, and, though they are of second
order, yet honour attends them also -- Zeus the Father made a third
generation of mortal men, a brazen race, sprung from ash-trees [meliai];
and it was in no way equal to the silver age, but was terrible and strong.
They loved the lamentable works of Ares and deeds of violence; they ate
no bread, but were hard of heart like adamant, fearful men. Great was
their strength and unconquerable the arms which grew from their
shoulders on their strong limbs. Their armour was of bronze, and their
houses of bronze, and of bronze were their implements: there was no
black iron. These were destroyed by their own hands and passed to the
dank house of chill Hades, and left no name: terrible though they were,
black Death seized them, and they left the bright light of the sun.
[156] But when earth had covered this generation also, Zeus the son of
Cronos made yet another, the fourth, upon the fruitful earth, which was
nobler and more righteous, a god-like race of hero-men who are called
demi-gods, the race before our own, throughout the boundless earth.
Grim war and dread battle destroyed a part of them, some in the land of
Cadmus at seven- gated Thebe when they fought for the flocks of
Oedipus, and some, when it had brought them in ships over the great sea
gulf to Troy for rich-haired Helen's sake: there death's end enshrouded a
part of them. But to the others father Zeus the son of Cronos gave a
living and an abode apart from men, and made them dwell at the ends of
earth. And they live untouched by sorrow in the islands of the blessed
along the shore of deep swirling Ocean, happy heroes for whom the
grain-giving earth bears honey-sweet fruit flourishing thrice a year, far
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from the deathless gods, and Cronos rules over them; for the father of
men and gods released him from his bonds. And these last equally have
honour and glory.
[169c] And again far-seeing Zeus made yet another generation, the fifth,
of men who are upon the bounteous earth.
[170] Thereafter, would that I were not among the men of the fifth
generation, but either had died before or been born afterwards. For now
truly is a race of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day,
and from perishing by night; and the gods shall lay sore trouble upon
them. But, notwithstanding, even these shall have some good mingled
with their evils. And Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men also when
they come to have grey hair on the temples at their birth. The father will
not agree with his children, nor the children with their father, nor guest
with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor will brother be dear to
brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their parents as they grow
quickly old, and will carp at them, chiding them with bitter words, hardhearted they, not knowing the fear of the gods. They will not repay their
aged parents the cost their nurture, for might shall be their right: and one
man will sack another's city. There will be no favour for the man who
keeps his oath or for the just or for the good; but rather men will praise
the evil-doer and his violent dealing. Strength will be right and reverence
will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the worthy man, speaking false
words against him, and will swear an oath upon them. Envy, foulmouthed, delighting in evil, with scowling face, will go along with
wretched men one and all. And then Aidos and Nemesis [shame of
wrongdoing and indignation against the wrongdoer], with their sweet
forms wrapped in white robes, will go from the wide-pathed earth and
forsake mankind to join the company of the deathless gods: and bitter
sorrows will be left for mortal men, and there will be no help against evil.
- THE HAWK AND NIGHTINGALE[202] And now I will tell a fable for princes who themselves understand.
Thus said the hawk to the nightingale with speckled neck, while he carried
her high up among the clouds, gripped fast in his talons, and she, pierced
by his crooked talons, cried pitifully. To her he spoke disdainfully:
`Miserable thing, why do you cry out? One far stronger than you now
holds you fast, and you must go wherever I take you, songstress as you
are. And if I please I will make my meal of you, or let you go. He is a fool
who tries to withstand the stronger, for he does not get the mastery and
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suffers pain besides his shame.' So said the swiftly flying hawk, the longwinged bird.
- ACTING JUSTLY [212] But you, Perses, listen to right and do not foster violence; for
violence is bad for a poor man. Even the prosperous cannot easily bear its
burden, but is weighed down under it when he has fallen into delusion.
The better path is to go by on the other side towards justice; for Justice
beats Outrage when she comes at length to the end of the race. But only
when he has suffered does the fool learn this. For Oath keeps pace with
wrong judgements. There is a noise when Justice is being dragged in the
way where those who devour bribes and give sentence with crooked
judgements, take her. And she, wrapped in mist, follows to the city and
haunts of the people, weeping, and bringing mischief to men, even to
such as have driven her forth in that they did not deal straightly with her.
[225] But they who give straight judgements to strangers and to the men
of the land, and go not aside from what is just, their city flourishes, and
the people prosper in it: Peace, the nurse of children, is abroad in their
land, and all-seeing Zeus never decrees cruel war against them. Neither
famine nor disaster ever haunt men who do true justice; but lightheartedly they tend the fields which are all their care. The earth bears
them victual in plenty, and on the mountains the oak bears acorns upon
the top and bees in the midst. Their woolly sheep are laden with fleeces;
their women bear children like their parents. They flourish continually
with good things, and do not travel on ships, for the grain-giving earth
bears them fruit.
[238] But for those who practise violence and cruel deeds far-seeing Zeus,
the son of Cronos, ordains a punishment. Often even a whole city suffers
for a bad man who sins and devises presumptuous deeds, and the son of
Cronos lays great trouble upon the people, famine and plague together, so
that the men perish away, and their women do not bear children, and their
houses become few, through the contriving of Olympian Zeus. And
again, at another time, the son of Cronos either destroys their wide army,
or their walls, or else makes an end of their ships on the sea.
[248] You princes, mark well this punishment you also; for the deathless
gods are near among men and mark all those who oppress their fellows
with crooked judgements, and reck not the anger of the gods. For upon
the bounteous earth Zeus has thrice ten thousand spirits, watchers of
mortal men, and these keep watch on judgements and deeds of wrong as
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they roam, clothed in mist, all over the earth. And there is virgin Justice,
the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods
who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying
slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him
of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their
princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence
crookedly. Keep watch against this, you princes, and make straight your
judgements, you who devour bribes; put crooked judgements altogether
from your thoughts.
[265] He does mischief to himself who does mischief to another, and evil
planned harms the plotter most.
[267] The eye of Zeus, seeing all and understanding all, beholds these
things too, if so he will, and fails not to mark what sort of justice is this
that the city keeps within it. Now, therefore, may neither I myself be
righteous among men, nor my son -- for then it is a bad thing to be
righteous -- if indeed the unrighteous shall have the greater right. But I
think that all-wise Zeus will not yet bring that to pass.
[274] But you, Perses, lay up these things within you heart and listen now
to right, ceasing altogether to think of violence. For the son of Cronos has
ordained this law for men, that fishes and beasts and winged fowls should
devour one another, for right is not in them; but to mankind he gave right
which proves far the best. For whoever knows the right and is ready to
speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity; but whoever deliberately
lies in his witness and forswears himself, and so hurts Justice and sins
beyond repair, that man's generation is left obscure thereafter. But the
generation of the man who swears truly is better thenceforward.
[286] To you, foolish Perses, I will speak good sense. Badness can be got
easily and in shoals: the road to her is smooth, and she lives very near us.
But between us and Goodness the gods have placed the sweat of our
brows: long and steep is the path that leads to her, and it is rough at the
first; but when a man has reached the top, then is she easy to reach,
though before that she was hard.
[293] That man is altogether best who considers all things himself and
marks what will be better afterwards and at the end; and he, again, is good
who listens to a good adviser; but whoever neither thinks for himself nor
keeps in mind what another tells him, he is an unprofitable man. But do
you at any rate, always remembering my charge, work, high-born Perses,
that Hunger may hate you, and venerable Demeter richly crowned may
love you and fill your barn with food; for Hunger is altogether a meet
comrade for the sluggard. Both gods and men are angry with a man who
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lives idle, for in nature he is like the stingless drones who waste the labour
of the bees, eating without working; but let it be your care to order your
work properly, that in the right season your barns may be full of victual.
Through work men grow rich in flocks and substance, and working they
are much better loved by the immortals. Work is no disgrace: it is idleness
which is a disgrace. But if you work, the idle will soon envy you as you
grow rich, for fame and renown attend on wealth. And whatever be your
lot, work is best for you, if you turn your misguided mind away from
other men's property to your work and attend to your livelihood as I bid
you. An evil shame is the needy man's companion, shame which both
greatly harms and prospers men: shame is with poverty, but confidence
with wealth.
[320] Wealth should not be seized: god-given wealth is much better; for it
a man take great wealth violently and perforce, or if he steal it through his
tongue, as often happens when gain deceives men's sense and dishonour
tramples down honour, the gods soon blot him out and make that man's
house low, and wealth attends him only for a little time. Alike with him
who does wrong to a suppliant or a guest, or who goes up to his brother's
bed and commits unnatural sin in lying with his wife, or who infatuately
offends against fatherless children, or who abuses his old father at the
cheerless threshold of old age and attacks him with harsh words, truly
Zeus himself is angry, and at the last lays on him a heavy requittal for his
evil doing. But do you turn your foolish heart altogether away from these
things, and, as far as you are able, sacrifice to the deathless gods purely
and cleanly, and burn rich meats also, and at other times propitiate them
with libations and incense, both when you go to bed and when the holy
light has come back, that they may be gracious to you in heart and spirit,
and so you may buy another's holding and not another yours.
[342] Call your friend to a feast; but leave your enemy alone; and
especially call him who lives near you: for if any mischief happen in the
place, neighbours come ungirt, but kinsmen stay to gird themselves. A
bad neighbour is as great a plague as a good one is a great blessing; he
who enjoys a good neighbour has a precious possession. Not even an ox
would die but for a bad neighbour. Take fair measure from your
neighbour and pay him back fairly with the same measure, or better, if you
can; so that if you are in need afterwards, you may find him sure.
[352] Do not get base gain: base gain is as bad as ruin. Be friends with the
friendly, and visit him who visits you. Give to one who gives, but do not
give to one who does not give. A man gives to the free-handed, but no
one gives to the close- fisted. Give is a good girl, but Take is bad and she
brings death. For the man who gives willingly, even though he gives a
great thing, rejoices in his gift and is glad in heart; but whoever gives way
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to shamelessness and takes something himself, even though it be a small
thing, it freezes his heart. He who adds to what he has, will keep off
bright-eyed hunger; for it you add only a little to a little and do this often,
soon that little will become great. What a man has by him at home does
not trouble him: it is better to have your stuff at home, for whatever is
abroad may mean loss. It is a good thing to draw on what you have; but it
grieves your heart to need something and not to have it, and I bid you
mark this. Take your fill when the cask is first opened and when it is
nearly spent, but midways be sparing: it is poor saving when you come to
the lees.
[370] Let the wage promised to a friend be fixed; even with your brother
smile -- and get a witness; for trust and mistrust, alike ruin men.
[373] Do not let a flaunting woman coax and cozen and deceive you: she
is after your barn. The man who trusts womankind trust deceivers.
[376] There should be an only son, to feed his father's house, for so
wealth will increase in the home; but if you leave a second son you should
die old. Yet Zeus can easily give great wealth to a greater number. More
hands mean more work and more increase.
[381] If your heart within you desires wealth, do these things and work
with work upon work.
- THE AGRARIAN CALENDAR [383] When the Pleiades, daughters of Atlas, are rising [in early May],
begin your harvest, and your ploughing when they are going to set [in
November]. Forty nights and days they are hidden and appear again as the
year moves round, when first you sharpen your sickle. This is the law of
the plains, and of those who live near the sea, and who inhabit rich
country, the glens and dingles far from the tossing sea, -- strip to sow and
strip to plough and strip to reap, if you wish to get in all Demeter's fruits
in due season, and that each kind may grow in its season. Else, afterwards,
you may chance to be in want, and go begging to other men's houses, but
without avail; as you have already come to me. But I will give you no
more nor give you further measure. Foolish Perses! Work the work which
the gods ordained for men, lest in bitter anguish of spirit you with your
wife and children seek your livelihood amongst your neighbours, and they
do not heed you. Two or three times, may be, you will succeed, but if you
trouble them further, it will not avail you, and all your talk will be in vain,
and your word-play unprofitable. Nay, I bid you find a way to pay your
debts and avoid hunger.
145
[405] First of all, get a house, and a woman and an ox for the plough -- a
slave woman and not a wife, to follow the oxen as well -- and make
everything ready at home, so that you may not have to ask of another, and
he refuses you, and so, because you are in lack, the season pass by and
your work come to nothing. Do not put your work off till to-morrow and
the day after; for a sluggish worker does not fill his barn, nor one who
puts off his work: industry makes work go well, but a man who putts off
work is always at hand-grips with ruin.
[414] When the piercing power and sultry heat of the sun abate, and
almighty Zeus sends the autumn rains [in October], and men's flesh
comes to feel far easier, -- for then the star Sirius passes over the heads of
men, who are born to misery, only a little while by day and takes greater
share of night, -- then, when it showers its leaves to the ground and stops
sprouting, the wood you cut with your axe is least liable to worm. Then
remember to hew your timber: it is the season for that work. Cut a mortar
[for pounding grain] three feet wide and a pestle three cubits long, and an
axle of seven feet, for it will do very well so; but if you make it eight feet
long, you can cut a beetle [a mallet for pounding clods after ploughing]
from it as well. Cut a felloe three spans across for a waggon of ten palms'
width. Hew also many bent timbers, and bring home a plough-tree when
you have found it, and look out on the mountain or in the field for one of
holm-oak; for this is the strongest for oxen to plough with when one of
Athena's handmen has fixed in the share-beam and fastened it to the pole
with dowels. Get two ploughs ready work on them at home, one all of a
piece, and the other jointed. It is far better to do this, for if you should
break one of them, you can put the oxen to the other. Poles of laurel or
elm are most free from worms, and a share-beam of oak and a ploughtree of holm-oak. Get two oxen, bulls of nine years; for their strength is
unspent and they are in the prime of their age: they are best for work.
They will not fight in the furrow and break the plough and then leave the
work undone. Let a brisk fellow of forty years follow them, with a loaf of
four quarters [a flat bread] and eight slices for his dinner, one who will
attend to his work and drive a straight furrow and is past the age for
gaping after his fellows, but will keep his mind on his work. No younger
man will be better than he at scattering the seed and avoiding doublesowing; for a man less staid gets disturbed, hankering after his fellows.
[448] Mark, when you hear the voice of the crane [middle of November]
who cries year by year from the clouds above, for she give the signal for
ploughing and shows the season of rainy winter; but she vexes the heart
of the man who has no oxen. Then is the time to feed up your horned
oxen in the byre; for it is easy to say: `Give me a yoke of oxen and a
waggon,' and it is easy to refuse: Ì have work for my oxen.' The man who
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is rich in fancy thinks his waggon as good as built already -- the fool! He
does not know that there are a hundred timbers to a waggon. Take care to
lay these up beforehand at home.
[458] So soon as the time for ploughing is proclaimed to men, then make
haste, you and your slaves alike, in wet and in dry, to plough in the season
for ploughing, and bestir yourself early in the morning so that your fields
may be full. Plough in the spring; but fallow broken up in the summer will
not belie your hopes. Sow fallow land when the soil is still getting light:
fallow land is a defender from harm and a soother of children.
[465] Pray to Zeus of the Earth and to pure Demeter to make Demeter's
holy grain sound and heavy, when first you begin ploughing, when you
hold in your hand the end of the plough-tail and bring down your stick on
the backs of the oxen as they draw on the pole-bar by the yoke-straps. Let
a slave follow a little behind with a mattock and make trouble for the
birds by hiding the seed; for good management is the best for mortal men
as bad management is the worst. In this way your corn-ears will bow to
the ground with fullness if the Olympian himself gives a good result at the
last, and you will sweep the cobwebs from your bins and you will be glad,
I ween, as you take of your garnered substance. And so you will have
plenty till you come to grey [early] springtime, and will not look wistfully
to others, but another shall be in need of your help.
[479] But if you plough the good ground at the solstice [in December],
you will reap sitting, grasping a thin crop in your hand, binding the
sheaves awry, dust-covered, not glad at all; so you will bring all home in a
basket and not many will admire you. Yet the will of Zeus who holds the
aegis is different at different times; and it is hard for mortal men to tell it;
for if you should plough late, you may find this remedy -- when the
cuckoo first calls [in March] in the leaves of the oak and makes men glad
all over the boundless earth, if Zeus should send rain on the third day and
not cease until it rises neither above an ox's hoof nor falls short of it, then
the late-plougher will vie with the early. Keep all this well in mind, and fail
not to mark grey spring as it comes and the season of rain.
[493] Pass by the smithy and its crowded lounge in winter time when the
cold keeps men from field work, -- for then an industrious man can
greatly prosper his house -- lest bitter winter catch you helpless and poor
and you chafe a swollen foot with a shrunk hand. The idle man who waits
on empty hope, lacking a livelihood, lays to heart mischief-making; it is
not an wholesome hope that accompanies a need man who lolls at ease
while he has no sure livelihood.
147
[502] While it is yet midsummer command your slaves: Ìt will not always
be summer, build barns.'
[504] Avoid the month Lenaeon [late January, early February], wretched
days, all of them fit to skin an ox, and the frosts which are cruel when
Boreas blows over the earth. He blows across horse-breeding Thrace
upon the wide sea and stirs it up, while earth and the forest howl. On
many a high-leafed oak and thick pine he falls and brings them to the
bounteous earth in mountain glens: then all the immense wood roars and
the beasts shudder and put their tails between their legs, even those whose
hide is covered with fur; for with his bitter blast he blows even through
them although they are shaggy-breasted. He goes even through an ox's
hide; it does not stop him. Also he blows through the goat's fine hair. But
through the fleeces of sheep, because their wool is abundant, the keen
wind Boreas pierces not at all; but it makes the old man curved as a wheel.
And it does not blow through the tender maiden who stays indoors with
her dear mother, unlearned as yet in the works of golden Aphrodite, and
who washes her soft body and anoints herself with oil and lies down in an
inner room within the house, on a winter's day when the Boneless One
[octopus or cuttle] gnaws his foot in his fireless house and wretched
home; for the sun shows him no pastures to make for, but goes to and fro
over the land and city of dusky men [the southern Aethiopians], and
shines more sluggishly upon the whole race of the Hellenes. Then the
horned and unhorned denizens of the wood, with teeth chattering
pitifully, flee through the copses and glades, and all, as they seek shelter,
have this one care, to gain thick coverts or some hollow rock. Then, like
the Three-legged One [old man with walking-stick] whose back is broken
and whose head looks down upon the ground, like him, I say, they wander
to escape the white snow.
[536] Then put on, as I bid you, a soft coat and a tunic to the feet to
shield your body, -- and you should weave thick woof on thin warp. In
this clothe yourself so that your hair may keep still and not bristle and
stand upon end all over your body. Lace on your feet close-fitting boots
of the hide of a slaughtered ox, thickly lined with felt inside. And when
the season of frost comes on, stitch together skins of firstling kids with
ox-sinew, to put over your back and to keep off the rain. On your head
above wear a shaped cap of felt to keep your ears from getting wet, for
the dawn is chill when Boreas has once made his onslaught, and at dawn a
fruitful mist is spread over the earth from starry heaven upon the fields of
blessed men: it is drawn from the ever flowing rivers and is raised high
above the earth by windstorm, and sometimes it turns to rain towards
evening, and sometimes to wind when Thracian Boreas huddles the thick
clouds. Finish your work and return home ahead of him, and do not let
148
the dark cloud from heaven wrap round you and make your body clammy
and soak your clothes. Avoid it; for this is the hardest month, wintry, hard
for sheep and hard for men. In this season let your oxen have half their
usual food, but let your man have more; for the helpful nights are long.
Observe all this until the year is ended and you have nights and days of
equal length, and Earth, the mother of all, bears again her various fruit.
[564] When Zeus has finished sixty wintry days after the solstice, then the
star Arcturus [late February, early March] leaves the holy stream of Ocean
and first rises brilliant at dusk. After him the shrilly wailing daughter of
Pandion, the swallow, appears to men when spring is just beginning.
Before she comes, prune the vines, for it is best so.
[571] But when the House-carrier [the snail, in early May] climbs up the
plants from the earth to escape the Pleiades, then it is no longer the
season for digging vineyards, but to whet your sickles and rouse up your
slaves. Avoid shady seats and sleeping until dawn in the harvest season,
when the sun scorches the body. Then be busy, and bring home your
fruits, getting up early to make your livelihood sure. For dawn takes away
a third part of your work, dawn advances a man on his journey and
advances him in his work, -- dawn which appears and sets many men on
their road, and puts yokes on many oxen.
[582] But when the artichoke flowers [in June], and the chirping grasshopper sits in a tree and pours down his shrill song continually from
under his wings in the season of wearisome heat, then goats are plumpest
and wine sweetest; women are most wanton, but men are feeblest,
because Sirius parches head and knees and the skin is dry through heat.
But at that time let me have a shady rock and wine of Biblis, a clot of
curds and milk of drained goats with the flesh of an heifer fed in the
woods, that has never calved, and of firstling kids; then also let me drink
bright wine, sitting in the shade, when my heart is satisfied with food, and
so, turning my head to face the fresh Zephyr, from the everflowing spring
which pours down unfouled thrice pour an offering of water, but make a
fourth libation of wine.
[597] Set your slaves to winnow Demeter's holy grain, when strong Orion
[in July] first appears, on a smooth threshing-floor in an airy place. Then
measure it and store it in jars. And so soon as you have safely stored all
your stuff indoors, I bid you put your bondman out of doors and look out
for a servant-girl with no children; -- for a servant with a child to nurse is
troublesome. And look after the dog with jagged teeth; do not grudge him
his food, or some time the Day-sleeper [a robber] may take your stuff.
Bring in fodder and litter so as to have enough for your oxen and mules.
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After that, let your men rest their poor knees and unyoke your pair of
oxen.
[609] But when Orion and Sirius are come into mid-heaven, and rosyfingered Dawn sees Arcturus [in September], then cut off all the grapeclusters, Perses, and bring them home. Show them to the sun ten days and
ten nights: then cover them over for five, and on the sixth day draw off
into vessels the gifts of joyful Dionysus. But when the Pleiades and
Hyades and strong Orion begin to set [the end of October], then
remember to plough in season: and so the completed year [constellation
cycle] will fitly pass beneath the earth.
[618] But if desire for uncomfortable sea-faring seize you; when the
Pleiades plunge into the misty sea [end October, beginning November] to
escape Orion's rude strength, then truly gales of all kinds rage. Then keep
ships no longer on the sparkling sea, but bethink you to till the land as I
bid you. Haul up your ship upon the land and pack it closely with stones
all round to keep off the power of the winds which blow damply, and
draw out the bilge-plug so that the rain of heaven may not rot it. Put away
all the tackle and fittings in your house, and stow the wings of the seagoing ship neatly, and hang up the well-shaped rudder over the smoke.
You yourself wait until the season for sailing is come, and then haul your
swift ship down to the sea and stow a convenient cargo in it, so that you
may bring home profit, even as your father and mine, foolish Perses, used
to sail on shipboard because he lacked sufficient livelihood. And one day
he came to this very place crossing over a great stretch of sea; he left
Aeolian Cyme and fled, not from riches and substance, but from wretched
poverty which Zeus lays upon men, and he settled near Helicon in a
miserable hamlet, Ascra, which is bad in winter, sultry in summer, and
good at no time.
[641] But you, Perses, remember all works in their season but sailing
especially. Admire a small ship, but put your freight in a large one; for the
greater the lading, the greater will be your piled gain, if only the winds will
keep back their harmful gales.
[646] If ever you turn your misguided heart to trading and with to escape
from debt and joyless hunger, I will show you the measures of the loudroaring sea, though I have no skill in sea-faring nor in ships; for never yet
have I sailed by ship over the wide sea, but only to Euboea from Aulis
where the Achaeans once stayed through much storm when they had
gathered a great host from divine Hellas for Troy, the land of fair women.
Then I crossed over to Chalcis, to the games of wise Amphidamas where
the sons of the great-hearted hero proclaimed and appointed prizes. And
there I boast that I gained the victory with a song and carried off an
handled tripod which I dedicated to the Muses of Helicon, in the place
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where they first set me in the way of clear song. Such is all my experience
of many-pegged ships; nevertheless I will tell you the will of Zeus who
holds the aegis; for the Muses have taught me to sing in marvellous song.
[663] Fifty days after the solstice [in July-August], when the season of
wearisome heat is come to an end, is the right time for me to go sailing.
Then you will not wreck your ship, nor will the sea destroy the sailors,
unless Poseidon the Earth-Shaker be set upon it, or Zeus, the king of the
deathless gods, wish to slay them; for the issues of good and evil alike are
with them. At that time the winds are steady, and the sea is harmless.
Then trust in the winds without care, and haul your swift ship down to
the sea and put all the freight no board; but make all haste you can to
return home again and do not wait till the time of the new wine and
autumn rain and oncoming storms with the fierce gales of Notus who
accompanies the heavy autumn rain of Zeus and stirs up the sea and
makes the deep dangerous.
[678] Another time for men to go sailing is in spring when a man first sees
leaves on the topmost shoot of a fig-tree as large as the foot-print that a
cow makes; then the sea is passable, and this is the spring sailing time. For
my part I do not praise it, for my heart does not like it. Such a sailing is
snatched, and you will hardly avoid mischief. Yet in their ignorance men
do even this, for wealth means life to poor mortals; but it is fearful to die
among the waves. But I bid you consider all these things in your heart as I
say. Do not put all your goods in hallow ships; leave the greater part
behind, and put the lesser part on board; for it is a bad business to meet
with disaster among the waves of the sea, as it is bad if you put too great a
load on your waggon and break the axle, and your goods are spoiled.
Observe due measure: and proportion is best in all things.
- PROVERBS AND CUSTOMS [695] Bring home a wife to your house when you are of the right age,
while you are not far short of thirty years nor much above; this is the right
age for marriage. Let your wife have been grown up four years, and marry
her in the fifth. Marry a maiden, so that you can teach her careful ways,
and especially marry one who lives near you, but look well about you and
see that your marriage will not be a joke to your neighbours. For a man
wins nothing better than a good wife, and, again, nothing worse than a
bad one, a greedy soul who roasts her man without fire, strong though he
may be, and brings him to a raw old age.
[706] Be careful to avoid the anger of the deathless gods. Do not make a
friend equal to a brother; but if you do, do not wrong him first, and do
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not lie to please the tongue. But if he wrongs you first, offending either in
word or in deed, remember to repay him double; but if he ask you to be
his friend again and be ready to give you satisfaction, welcome him. He is
a worthless man who makes now one and now another his friend; but as
for you, do not let your face put your heart to shame.
[715] Do not get a name either as lavish or as churlish; as a friend of
rogues or as a slanderer of good men.
[717] Never dare to taunt a man with deadly poverty which eats out the
heart; it is sent by the deathless gods. The best treasure a man can have is
a sparing tongue, and the greatest pleasure, one that moves orderly; for if
you speak evil, you yourself will soon be worse spoken of.
[722] Do not be boorish at a common [public] feast where there are many
guests; the pleasure is greatest and the expense is least.
[724] Never pour a libation of sparkling wine to Zeus after dawn with
unwashen hands, nor to others of the deathless gods; else they do not
hear your prayers but spit them back.
[727] Do not stand upright facing the sun when you make water, but
remember to do this when he has set towards his rising. And do not make
water as you go, whether on the road or off the road, and do not uncover
yourself: the nights belong to the blessed gods. A scrupulous man who
has a wise heart sits down or goes to the wall of an enclosed court.
[733] Do not expose yourself befouled by the fireside in your house, but
avoid this. Do not beget children when you are come back from illomened burial, but after a festival of the gods.
[737] Never cross the sweet-flowing water of ever-rolling rivers afoot until
you have prayed, gazing into the soft flood, and washed your hands in the
clear, lovely water. Whoever crosses a river with hands unwashed of
wickedness, the gods are angry with him and bring trouble upon him
afterwards.
[742] At a cheerful festival of the gods do not cut the withered from the
quick upon that which has five branches with bright steel [i.e. do not cut
your fingernails].
[744] Never put the ladle upon the mixing-bowl at a wine party, for
malignant ill-luck is attached to that.
[746] When you are building a house, do not leave it rough-hewn, or a
cawing crow may settle on it and croak.
[748] Take nothing to eat or to wash with from uncharmed pots, for in
them there is mischief.
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[750] Do not let a boy of twelve years sit on things which may not be
moved [i.e. things which are sacriligeous to disturb, such as tombs], for
that is bad, and makes a man unmanly; nor yet a child of twelve months,
for that has the same effect. A man should not clean his body with water
in which a woman has washed, for there is bitter mischief in that also for
a time. When you come upon a burning sacrifice, do not make a mock of
mysteries, for Heaven is angry at this also. Never make water in the
mouths of rivers which flow to the sea, nor yet in springs; but be careful
to avoid this. And do not ease yourself in them: it is not well to do this.
[760] So do: and avoid the talk of men. For Talk is mischievous, light, and
easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to be rid of. Talk never wholly
dies away when many people voice her: even Talk is in some ways divine.
- DIVISION OF THE MONTH [The month is divided into three periods, the waxing, the mid-month, and
the waning, which answer to the phases of the moon. Greek months
consisted of thirty days and began with a new moon.]
[765] Mark the days which come from Zeus, duly telling your slaves of
them, and that the thirtieth day of the month is best for one to look over
the work and to deal out supplies. For these are days which come from
Zeus the all-wise, when men discern aright.
[770] To begin with, the first, the fourth, and the seventh -- on which
Leto bare Apollo with the blade of gold -- each is a holy day. The eighth
and the ninth, two days at least of the waxing month, are specially good
for the works of man. Also the eleventh and twelfth are both excellent,
alike for shearing sheep and for reaping the kindly fruits; but the twelfth is
much better than the eleventh, for on it the airy-swinging spider spins its
web in full day, and then the Wise One [the ant], gathers her pile. On that
day woman should set up her loom and get forward with her work.
[780] Avoid the thirteenth of the waxing month for beginning to sow: yet
it is the best day for setting plants.
[782] The sixth of the mid-month is very unfavourable for plants, but is
good for the birth of males, though unfavourable for a girl either to be
born at all or to be married. Nor is the first sixth a fit day for a girl to be
born, but a kindly for gelding kids and sheep and for fencing in a sheepcote. It is favourable for the birth of a boy, but such will be fond of sharp
speech, lies, and cunning words, and stealthy converse.
[790] On the eighth of the month geld the boar and loud- bellowing bull,
but hard-working mules on the twelfth.
153
[792] On the great twentieth, in full day, a wise man should be born. Such
an one is very sound-witted. The tenth is favourable for a male to be
born; but, for a girl, the fourth day of the mid-month. On that day tame
sheep and shambling, horned oxen, and the sharp-fanged dog and hardy
mules to the touch of the hand. But take care to avoid troubles which eat
out the heart on the fourth of the beginning and ending of the month; it is
a day very fraught with fate.
[800] On the fourth of the month bring home your bride, but choose the
omens which are best for this business.
[802] Avoid fifth days: they are unkindly and terrible. On a fifth day, they
say, the Erinyes assisted at the birth of Horcus (Oath) whom Eris (Strife)
bare to trouble the forsworn.
[805] Look about you very carefully and throw out Demeter's holy grain
upon the well-rolled threshing floor on the seventh of the mid-month. Let
the woodman cut beams for house building and plenty of ships' timbers,
such as are suitable for ships. On the fourth day begin to build narrow
ships.
[810] The ninth of the mid-month improves towards evening; but the first
ninth of all is quite harmless for men. It is a good day on which to beget
or to be born both for a male and a female: it is never an wholly evil day.
[814] Again, few know that the twenty-seventh of the month is best for
opening a wine-jar, and putting yokes on the necks of oxen and mules and
swift-footed horses, and for hauling a swift ship of many thwarts down to
the sparkling sea; few call it by its right name.
[819] On the fourth day open a jar. The fourth of the mid-month is a day
holy above all. And again, few men know that the fourth day after the
twentieth is best while it is morning: towards evening it is less good.
[822] These days are a great blessing to men on earth; but the rest are
changeable, luckless, and bring nothing. Everyone praises a different day
but few know their nature. Sometimes a day is a stepmother, sometimes a
mother. That man is happy and lucky in them who knows all these things
and does his work without offending the deathless gods, who discerns the
omens of birds and avoids transgressions.
- THE END -
154
The Fall of Troy
Quintus Smyrnaeus
(Selections)
TRANS. BY A.S.WAY
- BOOK I -
W
hen godlike Hector by Peleides slain passed, and the pyre had
ravined up his flesh, and earth had veiled his bones, the Trojans
then tarried in Priam's city, sore afraid before the might of
stout-heart Aeacus' son: as kine they were, that midst the copses shrink
from faring forth to meet a lion grim, but in dense thickets terror-huddled
cower; so in their fortress shivered these to see that mighty man. Of those
already dead they thought of all whose lives he reft away as by
Scamander's outfall on he rushed, and all that in mid-flight to that high
wall he slew, how he quelled Hector, how he haled his corse round Troy; - yea, and of all beside laid low by him since that first day whereon o'er
restless seas he brought the Trojans doom. Ay, all these they remembered,
while they stayed thus in their town, and o'er them anguished grief
hovered dark-winged, as though that very day all Troy with shrieks were
crumbling down in fire.
[22] Then from Thermodon, from broad-sweeping streams, came, clothed
upon with beauty of Goddesses, Penthesileia -- came athirst indeed for
groan-resounding battle, but yet more fleeing abhorred reproach and evil
fame, lest they of her own folk should rail on her because of her own
sister's death, for whom ever her sorrows waxed, Hippolyte, whom she
had struck dead with her mighty spear, not of her will -- 'twas at a stag she
hurled. So came she to the far-famed land of Troy. Yea, and her warrior
spirit pricked her on, of murder's dread pollution thus to cleanse her soul,
and with such sacrifice to appease the Awful Ones, the Erinnyes, who in
wrath for her slain sister straightway haunted her unseen: for ever round
the sinner's steps they hover; none may 'scape those Goddesses.
[40] And with her followed twelve beside, each one a princess, hot for war
and battle grim, far-famous each, yet handmaids unto her: Penthesileia far
outshone them all. As when in the broad sky amidst the stars the moon
rides over all pre-eminent, when through the thunderclouds the cleaving
heavens open, when sleep the fury-breathing winds; so peerless was she
mid that charging host. Clonie was there, Polemusa, Derinoe, Evandre,
and Antandre, and Bremusa, Hippothoe, dark-eyed Harmothoe, Alcibie,
Derimacheia, Antibrote, and Thermodosa glorying with the spear. All
these to battle fared with warrior-souled Penthesileia: even as when
descends Dawn from Olympus' crest of adamant, Dawn, heart-exultant in
her radiant steeds amidst the bright-haired Hours; and o'er them all, how
flawless-fair soever these may be, her splendour of beauty glows preeminent; so peerless amid all the Amazons unto Troy-town Penthesileia
came. To right, to left, from all sides hurrying thronged the Trojans,
greatly marvelling, when they saw the tireless War-god's child, the mailed
maid, like to the Blessed Gods; for in her face glowed beauty glorious and
terrible. Her smile was ravishing: beneath her brows, her love-enkindling
eyes shone like to stars, and with the crimson rose of shamefastness
bright were her cheeks, and mantled over them unearthly grace with
battle-prowess clad.
[73] Then joyed Troy's folk, despite past agonies, as when, far-gazing from
a height, the hinds behold a rainbow spanning the wide sea, when they be
yearning for the heaven-sent shower, when the parched fields be craving
for the rain; then the great sky at last is overgloomed, and men see that
fair sign of coming wind and imminent rain, and seeing, they are glad,
who for their corn-fields' plight sore sighed before; even so the sons of
Troy when they beheld there in their land Penthesileia dread afire for
battle, were exceeding glad; for when the heart is thrilled with hope of
good, all smart of evils past is wiped away. So, after all his sighing and his
pain, gladdened a little while was Priam's soul. As when a man who hath
suffered many a pang from blinded eyes, sore longing to behold the light,
and, if he may not, fain would die, then at the last, by a cunning leech's
skill, or by a God's grace, sees the dawn-rose flush, sees the mist rolled
back from before his eyes, -- yea, though clear vision come not as of old,
yet, after all his anguish, joys to have some small relief, albeit the stings of
pain prick sharply yet beneath his eyelids; -- so joyed the old king to see
that terrible queen -- the shadowy joy of one in anguish whelmed for slain
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QUINTUS SMYRNAEUS: THE FALL OF TROY
sons. Into his halls he led the Maid, and with glad welcome honoured her,
as one who greets a daughter to her home returned from a far country in
the twentieth year; and set a feast before her, sumptuous as battle-glorious
kings, who have brought low nations of foes, array in splendour of pomp,
with hearts in pride of victory triumphing. And gifts he gave her costly
and fair to see, and pledged him to give many more, so she would save the
Trojans from the imminent doom. And she such deeds she promised as
no man had hoped for, even to lay Achilles low, to smite the wide host of
the Argive men, and cast the brands red-flaming on the ships. Ah fool! -but little knew she him, the lord of ashen spears, how far Achilles' might
in warrior-wasting strife o'erpassed her own!
[119] But when Andromache, the stately child of king Eetion, heard the
wild queen's vaunt, low to her own soul bitterly murmured she: "Ah
hapless! why with arrogant heart dost thou speak such great swelling
words? No strength is thine to grapple in fight with Peleus' aweless son.
Nay, doom and swift death shall he deal to thee. Alas for thee! What
madness thrills thy soul? Fate and the end of death stand hard by thee!
Hector was mightier far to wield the spear than thou, yet was for all his
prowess slain, slain for the bitter grief of Troy, whose folk the city
through looked on him as a God. My glory and his noble parents' glory
was he while yet he lived -- O that the earth over my dead face had been
mounded high, or ever through his throat the breath of life followed the
cleaving spear! But now have I looked -- woe is me! -- on grief
unutterable, when round the city those fleet-footed steeds haled him,
steeds of Achilles, who had made me widowed of mine hero-husband,
made my portion bitterness through all my days." So spake Eetion's
lovely-ankled child low to her own soul, thinking on her lord. So
evermore the faithful-hearted wife nurseth for her lost love undying grief.
[146] Then in swift revolution sweeping round into the Ocean's deep
stream sank the sun, and daylight died. So when the banqueters ceased
from the wine-cup and the goodly feast, then did the handmaids spread in
Priam's halls for Penthesileia dauntless-souled the couch heart-cheering,
and she laid her down to rest; and slumber mist-like overveiled her eyes
depths like sweet dew dropping round. From heavens' blue slid down the
might of a deceitful dream at Pallas' hest, that so the warrior-maid might
see it, and become a curse to Troy and to herself, when strained her soul
to meet; the whirlwind of the battle. In this wise the Trito-born, the
subtle-souled, contrived: Stood o'er the maiden's head that baleful dream
in likeness of her father, kindling her fearlessly front to front to meet in
157
fight fleetfoot Achilles. And she heard the voice, and all her heart exulted,
for she weened that she should on that dawning day achieve a mighty
deed in battle's deadly toil. Ah, fool, who trusted for her sorrow a dream
out of the sunless land, such as beguiles full oft the travail-burdened tribes
of men, whispering mocking lies in sleeping ears, and to the battle's travail
lured her then!
[173] But when the Dawn, the rosy-ankled, leapt up from her bed, then,
clad in mighty strength of spirit, suddenly from her couch uprose
Penthesileia. Then did she array her shoulders in those wondrousfashioned arms given her of the War-god. First she laid beneath her silvergleaming knees the greaves fashioned of gold, close-clipping the strong
limbs. Her rainbow-radiant corslet clasped she then about her, and around
her shoulders slung, with glory in her heart, the massy brand whose
shining length was in a scabbard sheathed of ivory and silver. Next, her
shield unearthly splendid, caught she up, whose rim swelled like the young
moon's arching chariot-rail when high o'er Ocean's fathomless-flowing
stream she rises, with the space half filled with light betwixt her bowing
horns. So did it shine unutterably fair. Then on her head she settled the
bright helmet overstreamed with a wild mane of golden-glistering hairs.
So stood she, lapped about with flaming mail, in semblance like the
lightning, which the might, the never-wearied might of Zeus, to earth
hurleth, what time he showeth forth to men fury of thunderous-roaring
rain, or swoop resistless of his shouting host of winds. Then in hot haste
forth of her bower to pass caught she two javelins in the hand that
grasped her shield-band; but her strong right hand laid hold on a huge
halberd, sharp of either blade, which terrible Eris gave to Ares' child to be
her Titan weapon in the strife that raveneth souls of men. Laughing for
glee thereover, swiftly flashed she forth the ring of towers. Her coming
kindled all the sons of Troy to rush into the battle forth which crowneth
men with glory. Swiftly all hearkened her gathering-ery, and thronging
came, champions, yea, even such as theretofore shrank back from
standing in the ranks of war against Achilles the all-ravager. But she in
pride of triumph on she rode throned on a goodly steed and fleet, the gift
of Oreithyia, the wild North-wind's bride, given to her guest the warriormaid, what time she came to Thrace, a steed whose flying feet could
match the Harpies' wings. Riding thereon Penthesileia in her goodlihead
left the tall palaces of Troy behind. And ever were the ghastly-visaged
Fates thrusting her on into the battle, doomed to be her first against the
Greeks -- and last! To right, to left, with unreturning feet the Trojan
thousands followed to the fray, the pitiless fray, that death-doomed
warrior-maid, followed in throngs, as follow sheep the ram that by the
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shepherd's art strides before all. So followed they, with battle-fury filled,
strong Trojans and wild-hearted Amazons. And like Tritonis seemed she,
as she went to meet the Giants, or as flasheth far through war-hosts Eris,
waker of onset-shouts. So mighty in the Trojans' midst she seemed,
Penthesileia of the flying feet.
[238] Then unto Cronos' Son Laomedon's child upraised his hands, his
sorrow-burdened hands, turning him toward the sky-encountering fane of
Zeus of Ida, who with sleepless eyes looks ever down on Ilium; and he
prayed: "Father, give ear! Vouchsafe that on this day Achaea's host may
fall before the hands of this our warrior-queen, the War-god's child; and
do thou bring her back unscathed again unto mine halls: we pray thee by
the love thou bear'st to Ares of the fiery heart thy son, yea, to her also! is
she not most wondrous like the heavenly Goddesses? And is she not the
child of thine own seed? Pity my stricken heart withal! Thou know'st all
agonies I have suffered in the deaths of dear sons whom the Fates have
torn from me by Argive hands in the devouring fight. Compassionate us,
while a remnant yet remains of noble Dardanus' blood, while yet this city
stands unwasted! Let us know from ghastly slaughter and strife one
breathing-space!"
[260] In passionate prayer he spake: -- lo, with shrill scream swiftly to left
an eagle darted by and in his talons bare a gasping dove. Then round the
heart of Priam all the blood was chilled with fear. Low to his soul he said:
"Ne'er shall I see return alive from war Penthesileia!" On that selfsame
day the Fates prepared his boding to fulfil; and his heart brake with
anguish of despair.
[269] Marvelled the Argives, far across the plain seeing the hosts of Troy
charge down on them, and midst them Penthesileia, Ares' child. These
seemed like ravening beasts that mid the hills bring grimly slaughter to the
fleecy flocks; and she, as a rushing blast of flame she seemed that
maddeneth through the copses summer-scorched, when the wind drives it
on; and in this wise spake one to other in their mustering host: "Who shall
this be who thus can rouse to war the Trojans, now that Hector hath been
slain -- these who, we said, would never more find heart to stand against
us? Lo now, suddenly forth are they rushing, madly afire for fight! Sure, in
their midst some great one kindleth them to battle's toil! Thou verily
wouldst say this were a God, of such great deeds he dreams! Go to, with
aweless courage let us arm our own breasts: let us summon up our might
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in battle-fury. We shall lack not help of Gods this day to close in fight
with Troy."
[290] So cried they; and their flashing battle-gear cast they about them:
forth the ships they poured clad in the rage of fight as with a cloak. Then
front to front their battles closed, like beasts of ravin, locked in tangle of
gory strife. Clanged their bright mail together, clashed the spears, the
corslets, and the stubborn-welded shields and adamant helms. Each
stabbed at other's flesh with the fierce brass: was neither ruth nor rest,
and all the Trojan soil was crimson-red.
[300] Then first Penthesileia smote and slew Molion; now Persinous falls,
and now Eilissus; reeled Antitheus 'neath her spear the pride of Lernus
quelled she: down she bore Hippalmus 'neath her horse-hoofs; Haemon's
son died; withered stalwart Elasippus' strength. And Derinoe laid low
Laogonus, and Clonie Menippus, him who sailed long since from Phylace,
led by his lord Protesilaus to the war with Troy. Then was Podarces, son
of Iphiclus, heart-wrung with ruth and wrath to see him lie dead, of all
battle-comrades best-beloved. Swiftly at Clonie he hurled, the maid fair as
a Goddess: plunged the unswerving lance 'twixt hip and hip, and rushed
the dark blood forth after the spear, and all her bowels gushed out. Then
wroth was Penthesileia; through the brawn of his right arm she drave the
long spear's point, she shore atwain the great blood-brimming veins, and
through the wide gash of the wound the gore spirted, a crimson fountain.
With a groan backward he sprang, his courage wholly quelled by bitter
pain; and sorrow and dismay thrilled, as he fled, his men of Phylace. A
short way from the fight he reeled aside, and in his friends' arms died in
little space. Then with his lance Idomeneus thrust out, and by the right
breast stabbed Bremusa. Stilled for ever was the beating of her heart. She
fell, as falls a graceful-shafted pine hewn mid the hills by woodmen:
heavily, sighing through all its boughs, it crashes down. So with a wailing
shriek she fell, and death unstrung her every limb: her breathing soul
mingled with multitudinous-sighing winds. Then, as Evandre through the
murderous fray with Thermodosa rushed, stood Meriones, a lion in the
path, and slew: his spear right to the heart of one he drave, and one
stabbed with a lightning sword-thrust 'twixt the hips: leapt through the
wounds the life, and fled away. Oileus' fiery son smote Derinoe 'twixt
throat and shoulder with his ruthless spear; and on Alcibie Tydeus' terrible
son swooped, and on Derimacheia: head with neck clean from the
shoulders of these twain he shore w ith ruin-wreaking brand. Together
down fell they, as young calves by the massy axe of brawny flesher felled,
that, shearing through the sinews of the neck, lops life away. So, by the
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hands of Tydeus' son laid low upon the Trojan plain, far, far away from
their own highland-home, they fell. Nor these alone died; for the might of
Sthenelus down on them hurled Cabeirus' corse, who came from Sestos,
keen to fight the Argive foe, but never saw his fatherland again. Then was
the heart of Paris filled with wrath for a friend slain. Full upon Sthenelus
aimed he a shaft death-winged, yet touched him not, despite his thirst for
vengeance: otherwhere the arrow glanced aside, and carried death whither
the stern Fates guided its fierce wing, and slew Evenor brazen-tasleted,
who from Dulichium came to war with Troy. For his death fury-kindled
was the son of haughty Phyleus: as a lion leaps upon the flock, so swiftly
rushed he: all shrank huddling back before that terrible man. Itymoneus
he slew, and Hippasus' son Agelaus: from Miletus brought they war
against the Danaan men by Nastes led, the god-like, and Amphimachus
mighty-souled. On Mycale they dwelt; beside their home rose Latmus'
snowy crests, stretched the long glens of Branchus, and Panormus' watermeads. Maeander's flood deep-rolling swept thereby, which from the
Phrygian uplands, pastured o'er by myriad flocks, around a thousand
forelands curls, swirls, and drives his hurrying ripples on down to the
vine-clad land of Carian men these mid the storm of battle Meges slew,
nor these alone, but whomsoe'er his lance black-shafted touched, were
dead men; for his breast the glorious Trito-born with courage thrilled to
bring to all his foes the day of doom. And Polypoetes, dear to Ares, slew
Dresaeus, whom the Nymph Neaera bare to passing-wise Theiodamas for
these spread was the bed of love beside the foot of Sipylus the Mountain,
where the Gods made Niobe a stony rock, wherefrom tears ever stream:
high up, the rugged crag bows as one weeping, weeping, waterfalls cry
from far-echoing Hermus, wailing moan o f sympathy: the skyencountering crests of Sipylus, where alway floats a mist hated of
shepherds, echo back the cry. Weird marvel seems that Rock of Niobe to
men that pass with feet fear-goaded: there they see the likeness of a
woman bowed, in depths of anguish sobbing, and her tears drop, as she
mourns grief-stricken, endlessly. Yea, thou wouldst say that verily so it
was, viewing it from afar; but when hard by thou standest, all the illusion
vanishes; and lo, a steep-browed rock, a fragment rent from Sipylus -- yet
Niobe is there, dreeing her weird, the debt of wrath divine, a broken heart
in guise of shattered stone.
[411] All through the tangle of that desperate fray stalked slaughter and
doom. The incarnate Onset-shout raved through the rolling battle; at her
side paced Death the ruthless, and the fearful Fates, beside them strode,
and in red hands bare murder and the groans of dying men. That day the
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beating of full many a heart, Trojan and Argive, was for ever stilled, while
roared the battle round them, while the fury of Penthesileia fainted not
nor failed; but as amid long ridges of lone hills a lioness, stealing down a
deep ravine, springs on the kine with lightning leap, athirst for blood
wherein her fierce heart revelleth; so on the Danaans leapt that warriormaid. And they, their souls were cowed: backward they shrank, and fast
she followed, as a towering surge chases across the thunder-booming sea
a flying bark, whose white sails strain beneath the wind's wild buffering,
and all the air maddens with roaring, as the rollers crash on a black
foreland looming on the lee where long reefs fringe the surf-tormented
shores. So chased she, and so dashed the ranks asunder triumphantsouled, and hurled fierce threats before: "Ye dogs, this day for evil outrage
done to Priam shall ye pay! No man of you shall from mine hands deliver
his own life, and win back home, to gladden parents eyes, or comfort wife
or children. Ye shall lie dead, ravined on by vultures and by wolves, and
none shall heap the earth-mound o'er your clay. Where skulketh now the
strength of Tydeus' son, and where the might of Aeacus' scion? Where is
Aias' bulk? Ye vaunt them mightiest men of all your rabble. Ha! they will
not dare with me to close in battle, lest I drag forth from their fainting
frames their craven souls!"
[449] Then heart-uplifted leapt she on the foe, resistless as a tigress,
crashing through ranks upon ranks of Argives, smiting now with that
huge halberd massy-headed, now hurling the keen dart, while her battlehorse flashed through the fight, and on his shoulder bare quiver and bow
death-speeding, close to her hand, if mid that revel of blood she willed to
speed the bitter-biting shaft. Behind her swept the charging lines of men
fleet-footed, friends and brethren of the man who never flinched from
close death-grapple, Hector, panting all the hot breath of the War-god
from their breasts, all slaying Danaans with the ashen spear, who fell as
frost-touched leaves in autumn fall one after other, or as drops of rain.
And aye went up a moaning from earth's breast all blood-bedrenched, and
heaped with corse on corse. Horses pierced through with arrows, or
impaled on spears, were snorting forth their last of strength with
screaming neighings. Men, with gnashing teeth biting the dust, lay gasping,
while the steeds of Trojan charioteers stormed in pursuit, trampling the
dying mingled with the dead as oxen trample corn in threshing-floors.
[474] Then one exulting boasted mid the host of Troy, beholding
Penthesileia rush on through the foes' array, like the black storm that
maddens o'er the sea, what time the sun allies his might with winter's
Goat-horned Star; and thus, puffed up with vain hope, shouted he: "O
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friends, in manifest presence down from heaven one of the deathless
Gods this day hath come to fight the Argives, all of love for us, yea, and
with sanction of almighty Zeus, he whose compassion now remembereth
haply strong-hearted Priam, who may boast for his a lineage of immortal
blood. For this, I trow, no mortal woman seems, who is so awelessdaring, who is clad in splendour-flashing arms: nay, surely she shall be
Athene, or the mighty-souled Enyo -- haply Eris, or the Child of Leto
world-renowned. O yea, I look to see her hurl amid yon Argive men madshrieking slaughter, see her set aflame yon ships wherein they came long
years agone bringing us many sorrows, yea, they came bringing us woes of
war intolerable. Ha! to the home-land Hellas ne'er shall these with joy
return, since Gods on our side fight."
[500] In overweening exultation so vaunted a Trojan. Fool! -- he had no
vision of ruin onward rushing upon himself and Troy, and Penthesileia's
self withal. For not as yet had any tidings come of that wild fray to Aias
stormy-souled, nor to Achilles, waster of tower and town. But on the
grave-mound of Menoetius' son they twain were lying, with sad memories
of a dear comrade crushed, and echoing each one the other's groaning.
One it was of the Blest Gods who still was holding back these from the
battle-tumult far away, till many Greeks should fill the measure up of
woeful havoc, slain by Trojan foes and glorious Penthesileia, who pursued
with murderous intent their rifled ranks, while ever waxed her valour
more and more, and waxed her might within her: never in vain she aimed
the unswerving spear-thrust: aye she pierced the backs of them that fled,
the breasts of such as charged to meet her. All the long shaft dripped with
steaming blood. Swift were her feet as wind as down she swooped. Her
aweless spirit failed for weariness nor fainted, but her might was
adamantine. The impending Doom, which roused unto the terrible strife
not yet Achilles, clothed her still with glory; still aloof the dread Power
stood, and still would shed splendour of triumph o'er the death-ordained
but for a little space, ere it should quell that Maiden 'neath the hands of
Aeaeus' son. In darkness ambushed, with invisible hand ever it thrust her
on, and drew her feet destruction-ward, and lit her path to death with
glory, while she slew foe after foe. As when within a dewy garden-close,
longing for its green springtide freshness, leaps a heifer, and there rangeth
to and fro, when none is by to stay her, treading down all its green herbs,
and all its wealth of bloom, devouring greedily this, and marring that with
trampling feet; so ranged she, Ares' child, through reeling squadrons of
Achaea's sons, slew these, and hunted those in panic rout.
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[545] From Troy afar the women marvelling gazed at the Maid's battleprowess. Suddenly a fiery passion for the fray hath seized Antimachus'
daughter, Meneptolemus' wife, Tisiphone. Her heart waxed strong, and
filled with lust of fight she cried to her fellows all, with desperate-daring
words, to spur them on to woeful war, by recklessness made strong.
"Friends, let a heart of valour in our breasts awake! Let us be like our
lords, who fight with foes for fatherland, for babes, for us, and never
pause for breath in that stern strife! Let us too throne war's spirit in our
hearts! Let us too face the fight which favoureth none! For we, we
women, be not creatures cast in diverse mould from men: to us is given
such energy of life as stirs in them. Eyes have we like to theirs, and limbs:
throughout fashioned we are alike: one common light we look on, and
one common air we breathe: with like food are we nourished -- nay,
wherein have we been dowered of God more niggardly than men? Then
let us shrink not from the fray see ye not yonder a woman far excelling
men in the grapple of fight? Yet is her blood nowise akin to ours, nor
fighteth she for her own city. For an alien king she warreth of her own
heart's prompting, fears the face of no man; for her soul is thrilled with
valour and with spirit invincible. But we -- to right, to left, lie woes on
woes about our feet: this mourns beloved sons, and that a husband who
for hearth and home hath died; some wail for fathers now no more; some
grieve for brethren and for kinsmen lost. Not one but hath some share in
sorrow's cup. Behind all this a fearful shadow looms, the day of bondage!
Therefore flinch not ye from war, O sorrow-laden! Better far to die in
battle now, than afterwards hence to be haled into captivity to alien folk,
we and our little ones, in the stern grip of fate leaving behind a burning
city, and our husbands' graves."
[589] So cried she, and with passion for stern war thrilled all those
women; and with eager speed they hasted to go forth without the wall
mail-clad, afire to battle for their town and people: all their spirit was
aflame. As when within a hive, when winter-tide is over and gone, loud
hum the swarming bees what time they make them ready forth to fare to
bright flower-pastures, and no more endure to linger there within, but
each to other crieth the challenge-cry to sally forth; even so bestirred
themselves the women of Troy, and kindled each her sister to the fray.
The weaving-wool, the distaff far they flung, and to grim weapons
stretched their eager hands.
[604] And now without the city these had died in that wild battle, as their
husbands died and the strong Amazons died, had not one voice of
wisdom cried to stay their maddened feet, when with dissuading words
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Theano spake: "Wherefore, ah wherefore for the toil and strain of battle's
fearful tumult do ye yearn, infatuate ones? Never your limbs have toiled in
conflict yet. In utter ignorance panting for labour unendurable, ye rush on
all-unthinking; for your strength can never be as that of Danaan men,
men trained in daily battle. Amazons have joyed in ruthless fight, in
charging steeds, from the beginning: all the toil of men do they endure;
and therefore evermore the spirit of the War-god thrills them through.
They fall not short of men in anything: their labour-hardened frames
make great their hearts for all achievement: never faint their knees nor
tremble. Rumour speaks their queen to be a daughter of the mighty Lord
of War. Therefore no woman may compare with her in prowess -- if she
be a woman, not a God come down in answer to our prayers. Yea, of one
blood be all the race of men, yet unto diverse labours still they turn; and
that for each is evermore the best whereto he bringeth skill of use and
wont. Therefore do ye from tumult of the fray hold you aloof, and in your
women's bowers before the loom still pace ye to and fro; and war shall be
the business of our lords. Lo, of fair issue is there hope: we see the
Achaeans falling fast: we see the might of our men waxing ever: fear is
none of evil issue now: the pitiless foe beleaguer not the town: no
desperate need there is that women should go forth to war."
[643] So cried she, and they hearkened to the words of her who had
garnered wisdom from the years; so from afar they watched the fight. But
still Penthesileia brake the ranks, and still before her quailed the Achaeans:
still they found nor screen nor hiding-place from imminent death. As
bleating goats are by the blood-stained jaws of a grim panther torn, so
slain were they. In each man's heart all lust of battle died, and fear alone
lived. This way, that way fled the panic-stricken: some to earth had flung
the armour from their shoulders; some in dust grovelled in terror 'neath
their shields: the steeds fled through the rout unreined of charioteers. In
rapture of triumph charged the Amazons, with groan and scream of agony
died the Greeks. Withered their manhood was in that sore strait; brief was
the span of all whom that fierce maid mid the grim jaws of battle
overtook. As when with mighty roaring bursteth down a storm upon the
forest-trees, and some uprendeth by the roots, and on the earth dashes
them down, the tail stems blossom-crowned, and snappeth some athwart
the trunk, and high whirls them through air, till all confused they lie a ruin
of splintered stems and shattered sprays; so the great Danaan host lay,
dashed to dust by doom of Fate, by Penthesileia's spear.
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[671] But when the very ships were now at point to be by hands of
Trojans set aflame, then battle-bider Aias heard afar the panic-cries, and
spake to Aeacus' son: "Achilles, all the air about mine ears is full of
multitudinous cries, is full of thunder of battle rolling nearer aye. Let us
go forth then, ere the Trojans win unto the ships, and make great
slaughter there of Argive men, and set the ships aflame. Foulest reproach
such thing on thee and me should bring; for it beseems not that the seed
of mighty Zeus should shame the sacred blood of hero-fathers, who
themselves of old with Hercules the battle-eager sailed to Troy, and smote
her even at her height of glory, when Laomedon was king. Ay, and I ween
that our hands even now shall do the like: we too are mighty men."
[690] He spake: the aweless strength of Aeacus' son hearkened thereto,
for also to his ears
By this the roar of bitter battle came. Then hasted both, and donned their
warrior-gear all splendour-gleaming: now, in these arrayed facing that
stormy-tossing rout they stand. Loud clashed their glorious armour: in
their souls a battle-fury like the War-god's wrath maddened; such might
was breathed into these twain by Atrytone, Shaker of the Shield, as on
they pressed. With joy the Argives saw the coming of that mighty twain:
they seemed in semblance like A1oeus' giant sons who in the old time
made that haughty vaunt of piling on Olympus' brow the height of Ossa
steeply-towering, and the crest of sky-encountering Pelion, so to rear a
mountain-stair for their rebellious rage to scale the highest heaven. Huge
as these the sons of Aeacus seemed, as forth they strode to stem the tide
of war. A gladsome sight to friends who have fainted for their coming,
now onward they press to crush triumphant foes. Many they slew with
their resistless spears; as when two herd-destroying lions come on sheep
amid the copses feeding, far from help of shepherds, and in heaps on
heaps slay them, till they have drunken to the full of blood, and filled their
maws insatiate with flesh, so those destroyers twain slew on, spreading
wide havoc through the hosts of Troy.
[721] There Deiochus and gallant Hyllus fell by Alas slain, and fell
Eurynomus lover of war, and goodly Enyeus died. But Peleus' son burst
on the Amazons smiting Antandre, Polemusa then, Antibrote, fiercesouled Hippothoe, hurling Harmothoe down on sisters slain. Then hard
on all their-reeling ranks he pressed with Telamon's mighty-hearted son;
and now before their hands battalions dense and strong crumbled as
weakly and as suddenly as when in mountain-folds the forest-brakes
shrivel before a tempest-driven fire.
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[734] When battle-eager Penthesileia saw these twain, as through the
scourging storm of war like ravening beasts they rushed, to meet them
there she sped, as when a leopard grim, whose mood is deadly, leaps from
forest-coverts forth, lashing her tail, on hunters closing round, while
these, in armour clad, and putting trust in their long spears, await her
lightning leap; so did those warriors twain with spears upswung wait
Penthesileia. Clanged the brazen plates about their shoulders as they
moved. And first leapt the long-shafted lance sped from the hand of
goodly Penthesileia. Straight it flew to the shield of Aeacus' son, but
glancing thence this way and that the shivered fragments sprang as from a
rock-face: of such temper were the cunning-hearted Fire-god's gifts
divine. Then in her hand the warrior-maid swung up a second javelin furywinged, against Aias, and with fierce words defied the twain: "Ha, from
mine hand in vain one lance hath leapt! But with this second look I
suddenly to quell the strength and courage of two foes, -- ay, though ye
vaunt you mighty men of war amid your Danaans! Die ye shall, and so
lighter shall be the load of war's affliction that lies upon the Trojan
chariot-lords. Draw nigh, come through the press to grips with me, so
shall ye learn what might wells up in breasts of Amazons. With my blood
is mingled war! No mortal man begat me, but the Lord of War, insatiate
of the battle-cry. Therefore my might is more than any man's."
[767] With scornful laughter spake she: then she hurled her second lance;
but they in utter scorn laughed now, as swiftly flew the shaft, and smote
the silver greave of Aias, and was foiled thereby, and all its fury could not
scar the flesh within; for fate had ordered not that any blade of foes
should taste the blood of Aias in the bitter war. But he recked of the
Amazon naught, but turned him thence to rush upon the Trojan host, and
left Penthesileia unto Peleus' son alone, for well he knew his heart within
hat she, for all her prowess, none the less would cost Achilles battle-toil as
light, as effortless, as doth the dove the hawk.
[782] Then groaned she an angry groan that she had sped her shafts in
vain; and now with scoffing speech to her in turn the son of Peleus spake:
"Woman, with what vain vauntings triumphing hast thou come forth
against us, all athirst to battle with us, who be mightier far than earthborn
heroes? We from Cronos' Son, the Thunder-roller, boast our high
descent. Ay, even Hector quailed, the battle-swift, before us, e'en though
far away he saw our onrush to grim battle. Yea, my spear slew him, for all
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his might. But thou -- thine heart is utterly mad, that thou hast greatly
dared to threaten us with death this day! On thee thy latest hour shall
swiftly come -- is come! Thee not thy sire the War-god now shall pluck
out of mine hand, but thou the debt shalt pay of a dark doom, as when
mid mountain-folds a pricket meets a lion, waster of herds. What, woman,
hast thou heard not of the heaps of slain, that into Xanthus' rushing
stream were thrust by these mine hands? -- or hast thou heard in vain,
because the Blessed Ones have stol'n wit and discretion from thee, to the
end that Doom's relentless gulf might gape for thee?"
[807] He spake; he swung up in his mighty hand and sped the long spear
warrior-slaying, wrought by Chiron, and above the right breast pierced the
battle-eager maid. The red blood leapt forth, as a fountain wells, and all at
once fainted the strength of Penthesileia's limbs; dropped the great battleaxe from her nerveless hand; a mist of darkness overveiled her eyes, and
anguish thrilled her soul. Yet even so still drew she difficult breath, still
dimly saw the hero, even now in act to drag her from the swift steed's
back. Confusedly she thought: "Or shall I draw my mighty sword, and
bide Achilles' fiery onrush, or hastily cast me from my fleet horse down to
earth, and kneel unto this godlike man, and with wild breath promise for
ransoming great heaps of brass and gold, which pacify the hearts of
victors never so athirst for blood, if haply so the murderous might of
Aeacus' son may hearken and may spare, or peradventure may
compassionate my youth, and so vouchsafe me to behold mine home
again? -- for O, I long to live!"
[831] So surged the wild thoughts in her; but the Gods ordained it
otherwise. Even now rushed on in terrible anger Peleus' son: he thrust
with sudden spear, and on its shaft impaled the body of her tempestfooted steed, even as a man in haste to sup might pierce flesh with the
spit, above the glowing hearth to roast it, or as in a mountain-glade a
hunter sends the shaft of death clear through the body of a stag with such
winged speed that the fierce dart leaps forth beyond, to plunge into the
tall stem of an oak or pine. So that death-ravening spear of Peleus' son
clear through the goodly steed rushed on, and pierced Penthesileia.
Straightway fell she down into the dust of earth, the arms of death, in
grace and comeliness fell, for naught of shame dishonoured her fair form.
Face down she lay on the long spear outgasping her last breath, stretched
upon that fleet horse as on a couch; like some tall pine snapped by the icy
mace of Boreas, earth's forest-fosterling reared by a spring to stately
height, amidst long mountain-glens, a glory of mother earth; so from the
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once fleet steed low fallen lay Penthesileia, all her shattered strength
brought down to this, and all her loveliness.
[858] Now when the Trojans saw the Warrior-queen struck down in
battle, ran through all their lines a shiver of panic. Straightway to their
walls turned they in flight, heart-agonized with grief. As when on the wide
sea, 'neath buffetings of storm-blasts, castaways whose ship is wrecked
escape, a remnant of a crew, forspent with desperate conflict with the
cruel sea: late and at last appears the land hard by, appears a city: faint and
weary-limbed with that grim struggle, through the surf they strain to land,
sore grieving for the good ship 1ost, and shipmates whom the terrible
surge dragged down to nether gloom; so, Troyward as they fled from
battle, all those Trojans wept for her, the Child of the resistless War-god,
wept for friends who died in groan-resounding fight.
[874] Then over her with scornful laugh the son of Peleus vaunted: "In
the dust lie there a prey to teeth of dogs, to ravens' beaks, thou wretched
thing! Who cozened thee to come forth against me? And thoughtest thou
to fare home from the war alive, to bear with thee right royal gifts from
Priam the old king, thy guerdon for slain Argives? Ha, 'twas not the
Immortals who inspired thee with this thought, who know that I of
heroes mightiest am, the Danaans' light of safety, but a woe to Trojans
and to thee, O evil-starred! Nay, but it was the darkness-shrouded Fates
and thine own folly of soul that pricked thee on to leave the works of
women, and to fare to war, from which strong men shrink shuddering
back."
[891] So spake he, and his ashen spear the son of Peleus drew from that
swift horse, and from
Penthesileia in death's agony. Then steed and rider gasped their lives away
slain by one spear. Now from her head he plucked the helmet splendourflashing like the beams of the great sun, or Zeus' own glory-light. Then,
there as fallen in dust and blood she lay, rose, like the breaking of the
dawn, to view 'neath dainty-pencilled brows a lovely face, lovely in death.
The Argives thronged around, and all they saw and marvelled, for she
seemed like an Immortal. In her armour there upon the earth she lay, and
seemed the Child of Zeus, the tireless Huntress Artemis sleeping, what
time her feet forwearied are with following lions with her flying shafts
over the hills far-stretching. She was made a wonder of beauty even in her
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death by Aphrodite glorious-crowned, the Bride of the strong War-god, to
the end that he, the son of noble Peleus, might be pierced with the sharp
arrow of repentant love. The warriors gazed, and in their hearts they
prayed that fair and sweet like her their wives might seem, laid on the bed
of love, when home they won. Yea, and Achilles' very heart was wrung
with love's remorse to have slain a thing so sweet, who might have borne
her home, his queenly bride, to chariot-glorious Phthia; for she was
flawless, a very daughter of the Gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair.
[923] Then Ares' heart was thrilled with grief and rage for his child slain.
Straight from Olympus down he darted, swift and bright as thunderbolt
terribly flashing from the mighty hand of Zeus, far leaping o'er the
trackless sea, or flaming o'er the land, while shuddereth all wide Olympus
as it passeth by. So through the quivering air with heart aflame swooped
Ares armour-clad, soon as he heard the dread doom of his daughter. For
the Gales, the North-wind's fleet-winged daughters, bare to him, as
through the wide halls of the sky he strode, the tidings of the maiden's
woeful end. Soon as he heard it, like a tempest-blast down to the ridges of
Ida leapt he: quaked under his feet the long glens and ravines deep-scored,
all Ida's torrent-beds, and all far-stretching foot-hills. Now had Ares
brought a day of mourning on the Myrmidons, but Zeus himself from far
Olympus sent mid shattering thunders terror of levin-bolts which thick
and fast leapt through the welkin down before his feet, blazing with
fearful flames. And Ares saw, and knew the stormy threat of the mightythundering Father, and he stayed his eager feet, now on the very brink of
battle's turmoil. As when some huge crag thrust from a beetling cliff-brow
by the winds and torrent rains, or lightning-lance of Zeus, leaps like a wild
beast, and the mountain-glens fling back their crashing echoes as it rolls in
mad speed on, as with resistless swoop of bound on bound it rushes
down, until it cometh to the levels of the plain, and there perforce its
stormy flight is stayed;
[958] So Ares, battle-eager Son of Zeus, was stayed, how loth soe'er; for
all the Gods to the Ruler of the Blessed needs must yield, seeing he sits
high-throned above them all, clothed in his might unspeakable. Yet still
many a wild thought surged through Ares' soul, urging him now to dread
the terrible threat of Cronos' wrathful Son, and to return heavenward, and
now to reck not of his Sire, but with Achilles' blood to stain those hands,
the battle-tireless. At the last his heart remembered how that many and
many a son of Zeus himself in many a war had died, nor in their fall had
Zeus availed them aught. Therefore he turned him from the Argives -170
else, down smitten by the blasting thunderbolt, with Titans in the nether
gloom he had lain, who dared defy the eternal will of Zeus.
[975] Then did the warrior sons of Argos strip with eager haste from
corpses strown all round the blood-stained spoils. But ever Peleus' son
gazed, wild with all regret, still gazed on her, the strong, the beautiful, laid
in the dust; and all his heart was wrung, was broken down with sorrowing
love, deep, strong as he had known when that beloved friend Patroclus
died.
[984] Loud jeered Thersites, mocking to his face:"Thou sorry-souled
Achilles! art not shamed to let some evil Power beguile thine heart to pity
of a pitiful Amazon whose furious spirit purposed naught but ill to us and
ours? Ha, woman-mad art thou, and thy soul lusts for this thing, as she
were some lady wise in household ways, with gifts and pure intent for
honoured wedlock wooed! Good had it been had her spear reached thine
heart, the heart that sighs for woman-creatures still! Thou carest not,
unmanly-souled, not thou, for valour's glorious path, when once thine eye
lights on a woman! Sorry wretch, where now is all thy goodly prowess?
where thy wit? And where the might that should beseem a king allstainless? Dost not know what misery this self-same woman-madness
wrought for Troy? Nothing there is to men more ruinous than lust for
woman's beauty; it maketh fools of wise men. But the toil of war attains
renown. To him that is a hero indeed glory of victory and the War-god's
works are sweet. 'Tis but the battle-blencher craves the beauty and the bed
of such as she!"
[1009] So railed he long and loud: the mighty heart of Peleus' son leapt
into flame of wrath. A sudden buffet of his resistless hand smote 'neath
the railer's ear, and all his teeth were dashed to the earth: he fell upon his
face: forth of his lips the blood in torrent gushed: swift from his body fled
the dastard soul of that vile niddering. Achaea's sons rejoiced thereat, for
aye he wont to rail on each and all with venomous gibes, himself a scandal
and the shame of all the host. Then mid the warrior Argives cried a voice:
"Not good it is for baser men to rail on kings, or secretly or openly; for
wrathful retribution swiftly comes. The Lady of Justice sits on high; and
she who heapeth woe on woe on humankind, even Ate, punisheth the
shameless tongue."
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[1027] So mid the Danaans cried a voice: nor yet within the mighty soul of
Peleus' son lulled was the storm of wrath, but fiercely he spake: "Lie there
in dust, thy follies all forgot! 'Tis not for knaves to beard their betters:
once thou didst provoke Odysseus' steadfast soul, babbling with
venomous tongue a thousand gibes, and didst escape with life; but thou
hast found the son of Peleus not so patient-souled, who with one only
buffet from his hand unkennels thy dog's soul! A bitter doom hath
swallowed thee: by thine own rascalry thy life is sped. Hence from
Achaean men, and mouth out thy revilings midst the dead!"
[1041] So spake the valiant-hearted aweless son of Aeacus. But Tydeus'
son alone of all the Argives was with anger stirred against Achilles for
Thersites slain, seeing these twain were of the self-same blood, the one,
proud Tydeus' battle-eager son, the other, seed of godlike Agrius: brother
of noble Oeneus Agrius was; and Oeneus in the Danaan land begat
Tydeus the battle-eager, son to whom was stalwart Diomedes. Therefore
wroth was he for slain Thersites, yea, had raised against the son of Peleus
vengeful hands, except the noblest of Aehaea's sons had thronged around
him, and besought him sore, and held him back therefrom. With Peleus'
son also they pleaded; else those mighty twain, the mightiest of all
Argives, were at point to close with clash of swords, so stung were they
with bitter wrath; yet hearkened they at last to prayers of comrades, and
were reconciled.
[1062] Then of their pity did the Atreid kings -- for these too at the
imperial loveliness of Penthesileia marvelled -- render up her body to the
men of Troy, to bear unto the burg of Ilus far-renowned with all her
armour. For a herald came asking this boon for Priam; for the king longed
with deep yearning of the heart to lay that battle-eager maiden, with her
arms, and with her war-horse, in the great earth-mound of old Laomedon.
And so he heaped a high broad pyre without the city wall: upon the height
thereof that warrior-queen they laid, and costly treasures did they heap
around her, all that well beseems to burn around a mighty queen in battle
slain. And so the Fire-god's swift-upleaping might, the ravening flame,
consumed her. All around the people stood on every hand, and quenched
the pyre with odorous wine. Then gathered they the bones, and poured
sweet ointment over them, and laid them in a casket: over all shed they
the rich fat of a heifer, chief among the herds that grazed on Ida's slope.
And, as for a beloved daughter, rang all round the Trojan men's heartstricken wail, as by the stately wall they buried her on an outstanding
tower, beside the bones of old Laomedon, a queen beside a king. This
honour for the War-god's sake they rendered, and for Penthesileia's own.
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And in the plain beside her buried they the Amazons, even all that
followed her to battle, and by Argive spears were slain. For Atreus' sons
begrudged not these the boon of tear-besprinkled graves, but let their
friends, the warrior Trojans, draw their corpses forth, yea, and their own
slain also, from amidst the swath of darts o'er that grim harvest-field.
Wrath strikes not at the dead: pitied are foes when life has fled, and left
them foes no more.
[1103] Far off across the plain the while uprose smoke from the pyres
whereon the Argives laid the many heroes overthrown and slain by Trojan
hands what time the sword devoured; and multitudinous lamentation
wailed over the perished. But above the rest mourned they o'er brave
Podarces, who in fight was no less mighty than his hero-brother
Protesilaus, he who long ago fell, slain of Hector: so Podarces now, struck
down by Penthesileia's spear, hath cast over all Argive hearts the pall of
grief. Wherefore apart from him they laid in clay the common throng of
slain; but over him toiling they heaped an earth-mound far-descried in
memory of a warrior aweless-souled. And in a several pit withal they
thrust the niddering Thersites' wretched corse. Then to the ships,
acclaiming Aeacus' son, returned they all. But when the radiant day had
plunged beneath the Ocean-stream, and night, the holy, overspread the
face of earth, then in the rich king Agamemnon's tent feasted the might of
Peleus' son, and there sat at the feast those other mighty ones all through
the dark, till rose the dawn divine.
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- BOOK III -
W
hen shone the light of Dawn the splendour-throned, then to
the ships the Pylian spearmen bore Antilochus' corpse, sore
sighing for their prince, and by the Hellespont they buried him
with aching hearts. Around him groaning stood the battle-eager sons of
Argives, all, of love for Nestor, shrouded o'er with grief. But that grey
hero's heart was nowise crushed by sorrow; for the wise man's soul
endures bravely, and cowers not under affliction's stroke. But Peleus' son,
wroth for Antilochus his dear friend, armed for vengeance terrible upon
the Trojans. Yea, and these withal, despite their dread of mighty Achilles'
spear, poured battle-eager forth their gates, for now the Fates with
courage filled their breasts, of whom many were doomed to Hades to
descend, whence there is no return, thrust down by hands of Aeacus' son,
who also was foredoomed to perish that same day by Priam's wall. Swift
met the fronts of conflict: all the tribes of Troy's host, and the battlebiding Greeks, afire with that new-kindled fury of war.
[24] Then through the foe the son of Peleus made wide havoc: all around
the earth was drenched with gore, and choked with corpses were the
streams of Simois and Xanthus. Still he chased, still slaughtered, even to
the city's walls; for panic fell on all the host. And now all had he slain, had
dashed the gates to earth, rending them from their hinges, or the bolts,
hurling himself against them, had he snapped, and for the Danaans into
Priam's burg had made a way, had utterly destroyed that goodly town -but now was Phoebus wroth against him with grim fury, when he saw
those countless troops of heroes slain of him. Down from Olympus with
a lion-leap he came: his quiver on his shoulders lay, and shafts that deal
the wounds incurable. Facing Achilles stood he; round him clashed quiver
and arrows; blazed with quenchless flame his eyes, and shook the earth
beneath his feet. Then with a terrible shout the great God cried, so to turn
back from war Achilles awed byy the voice divine, and save from death
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the Trojans: "Back from the Trojans, Peleus' son! Beseems not that longer
thou deal death unto thy foes, lest an Olympian God abase thy pride."
[50] But nothing quailed the hero at the voice immortal, for that round
him even now hovered the unrelenting Fates. He recked naught of the
God, and shouted his defiance. "Phoebus, why dost thou in mine own
despite stir me to fight with Gods, and wouldst protect the arrogant
Trojans? Heretofore hast thou by thy beguiling turned me from the fray,
when from destruction thou at the first didst save Hector, whereat the
Trojans all through Troy exulted. Nay, thou get thee back: return unto the
mansion of the Blessed, lest I smite thee -- ay, immortal though thou be!"
[63] Then on the God he turned his back, and sped after the Trojans
fleeing cityward, and harried still their flight; but wroth at heart thus
Phoebus spake to his indignant soul: "Out on this man! he is sense-bereft!
But now not Zeus himself nor any other Power shall save this madman
who defies the Gods!"
[70] From mortal sight he vanished into cloud, and cloaked with mist a
baleful shaft he shot which leapt to Achilles' ankle: sudden pangs with
mortal sickness made his whole heart faint. He reeled, and like a tower he
fell, that falls smit by a whirlwind when an earthquake cleaves a chasm for
rushing blasts from underground; so fell the goodly form of Aeacus' son.
He glared, a murderous glance, to right, to left, [upon the Trojans, and a
terrible threat] shouted, a threat that could not be fulfilled: "Who shot at
me a stealthy-smiting shaft? Let him but dare to meet me face to face! So
shall his blood and all his bowels gush out about my spear, and he be
hellward sped! I know that none can meet me man to man and quell in
fight -- of earth-born heroes none, though such an one should bear within
his breast a heart unquailing, and have thews of brass. But dastards still in
stealthy ambush lurk for lives of heroes. Let him face me then! -- ay!
though he be a God whose anger burns against the Danaans! Yea, mine
heart forebodes that this my smiter was Apollo, cloaked in deadly
darkness. So in days gone by my mother told me how that by his shafts I
was to die before the Scaean Gates a piteous death. Her words were not
vain words."
[98] Then with unflinching hands from out the wound incurable he drew
the deadly shaft in agonized pain. Forth gushed the blood; his heart waxed
175
faint beneath the shadow of coming doom. Then in indignant wrath he
hurled from him the arrow: a sudden gust of wind swept by, and caught it
up, and, even as he trod Zeus' threshold, to Apollo gave it back; for it
beseemed not that a shaft divine, sped forth by an Immortal, should be
lost. He unto high Olympus swiftly came, to the great gathering of
immortal Gods, where all assembled watched the war of men, these
longing for the Trojans' triumph, those for Danaan victory; so with
diverse wills watched they the strife, the slayers and the slain.
[114] Him did the Bride of Zeus behold, and straight upbraided with
exceeding bitter words: "What deed of outrage, Phoebus, hast thou done
this day, forgetful of that day whereon to godlike Peleus' spousals
gathered all the Immortals? Yea, amidst the feasters thou sangest how
Thetis silver-footed left the sea's abysses to be Peleus' bride; and as thou
harpedst all earth's children came to hearken, beasts and birds, high craggy
hills, rivers, and all deep-shadowed forests came. All this hast thou
forgotten, and hast wrought a ruthless deed, hast slain a godlike man,
albeit thou with other Gods didst pour the nectar, praying that he might
be the son by Thetis given to Peleus. But that prayer hast thou forgotten,
favouring the folk of tyrannous Laomedon, whose kine thou keptest. He,
a mortal, did despite to thee, the deathless! O, thou art wit-bereft! Thou
favourest Troy, thy sufferings all forgot. Thou wretch, and doth thy false
heart know not this, what man is an offence, and meriteth suffering, and
who is honoured of the Gods? Ever Achilles showed us reverence -- yea,
was of our race. Ha, but the punishment of Troy, I ween, shall not be
lighter, though Aeacus' son have fallen; for his son right soon shall come
from Scyros to the war to help the Argive men, no less in might than was
his sire, a bane to many a foe. But thou -- thou for the Trojans dost not
care, but for his valour enviedst Peleus' son, seeing he was the mightest of
all men. Thou fool! how wilt thou meet the Nereid's eyes, when she shall
stand in Zeus' hall midst the Gods, who praised thee once, and loved as
her own son?"
[151] So Hera spake, in bitterness of soul upbraiding, but he answered her
not a word, of reverence for his mighty Father's bride; nor could he lift
his eyes to meet her eyes, but sat abashed, aloof from all the Gods eternal,
while in unforgiving wrath scowled on him all the Immortals who
maintained the Danaans' cause; but such as fain would bring triumph to
Troy, these with exultant hearts extolled him, hiding it from Hera's eyes,
before whose wrath all Heaven-abiders shrank.
176
[162] But Peleus' son the while forgat not yet war's fury: still in his
invincible limbs the hot blood throbbed, and still he longed for fight. Was
none of all the Trojans dared draw nigh the stricken hero, but at distance
stood, as round a wounded lion hunters stand mid forest-brakes afraid,
and, though the shaft stands in his heart, yet faileth not in him his royal
courage, but with terrible glare roll his fierce eyes, and roar his grimly
jaws; so wrath and anguish of his deadly hurt to fury stung Peleides' soul;
but aye his strength ebbed through the god-envenomed wound. Yet leapt
he up, and rushed upon the foe, and flashed the lightning of his lance; it
slew the goodly Orythaon, comrade stout of Hector, through his temples
crashing clear: his helm stayed not the long lance fury-sped which leapt
therethrough, and won within the bones the heart of the brain, and spilt
his lusty life. Then stabbed he 'neath the brow Hipponous even to the
eye-roots, that the eyeball fell to earth: his soul to Hades flitted forth.
Then through the jaw he pierced Alcathous, and shore away his tongue: in
dust he fell gasping his life out, and the spear-head shot out through his
ear. These, as they rushed on him, that hero slew; but many a fleer's life he
spilt, for in his heart still leapt the blood.
[191] But when his limbs grew chill, and ebbed away his spirit, leaning on
his spear he stood, while still the Trojans fled in huddled rout of panic,
and he shouted unto them: "Trojan and Dardan cravens, ye shall not even
in my death, escape my merciless spear, but unto mine Avenging Spirits ye
shall pay -- ay, one and all -- destruction's debt!"
[199] He spake; they heard and quailed: as mid the hills fawns tremble at a
lion's deep-mouthed roar, and terror-stricken flee the monster, so the
ranks of Trojan chariot-lords, the lines of battle-helpers drawn from alien
lands, quailed at the last shout of Achilles, deemed that he was woundless
yet. But 'neath the weight of doom his aweless heart, his mighty limbs, at
last were overborne. Down midst the dead he fell, as fails a beetling
mountain-cliff. Earth rang beneath him: clanged with a thundercrash his
arms, as Peleus' son the princely fell. And still his foes with most
exceeding dread stared at him, even as, when some murderous beast lies
slain by shepherds, tremble still the sheep eyeing him, as beside the fold
he lies, and shrinking, as they pass him, far aloof and, even as he were
living, fear him dead; so feared they him, Achilles now no more.
[218] Yet Paris strove to kindle those faint hearts; for his own heart
exulted, and he hoped, now Peleus' son, the Danaans' strength, had fallen,
177
wholly to quench the Argive battle-fire: "Friends, if ye help me truly and
loyally, let us this day die, slain by Argive men, or live, and hale to Troy
with Hector's steeds in triumph Peleus' son thus fallen dead, the steeds
that, grieving, yearning for their lord to fight have borne me since my
brother died. Might we with these but hale Achilles slain, glory were this
for Hector's horses, yea, for Hector -- if in Hades men have sense of
righteous retribution. This man aye devised but mischief for the sons of
Troy; and now Troy's daughters with exultant hearts from all the city
streets shall gather round, as pantheresses wroth for stolen cubs, or
lionesses, might stand around a man whose craft in hunting vexed them
while he lived. So round Achilles -- a dead corpse at last! -- in hurrying
throngs Troy's daughters then shall come in unforgiving, unforgetting
hate, for parents wroth, for husbands slain, for sons, for noble kinsmen.
Most of all shall joy my father, and the ancient men, whose feet
unwillingly are chained within the walls by eld, if we shall hale him
through our gates, and give our foe to fowls of the air for meat."
[247] Then they, which feared him theretofore, in haste closed round the
corpse of strong-heart Aeacus' son, Glaucus, Aeneas, battle-fain Agenor,
and other cunning men in deadly fight, eager to hale him thence to Ilium
the god-built burg. But Aias failed him not. Swiftly that godlike man
bestrode the dead: back from the corpse his long lance thrust them all.
Yet ceased they not from onslaught; thronging round, still with swift
rushes fought they for the prize, one following other, like to long-lipped
bees which hover round their hive in swarms on swarms to drive a man
thence; but he, recking naught of all their fury, carveth out the combs of
nectarous honey: harassed sore are they by smoke-reek and the robber;
spite of all ever they dart against him; naught cares he; so naught of all
their onsets Aias recked; but first he stabbed Agelaus in the breast, and
slew that son of Maion: Thestor next: Ocythous he smote, Agestratus,
Aganippus, Zorus, Nessus, Erymas the war-renowned, who came from
Lycia-land with mighty-hearted Glaucus, from his home in Melanippion
on the mountain-ridge, Athena's fane, which Massikyton fronts anigh
Chelidonia's headland, dreaded sore of scared seafarers, when its lowering
crags must needs be doubled. For his death the blood of famed
Hippolochus' son was horror-chilled; for this was his dear friend. With
one swift thrust he pierced the sevenfold hides of Aias' shield, yet touched
his flesh not; stayed the spear-head was by those thick hides and by the
corset-plate which lapped his battle-tireless limbs. But still from that stern
conflict Glaucus drew not back, burning to vanquish Aias, Aeacus' son,
and in his folly vaunting threatened him: "Aias, men name thee mightiest
178
man of all the Argives, hold thee in passing-high esteem even as Achilles:
therefore thou, I wot, by that dead warrior dead this day shalt lie!"
[289] So hurled he forth a vain word, knowing not how far in might above
him was the man whom his spear threatened. Battle-bider Aias darkly and
scornfully glaring on him, said "Thou craven wretch, and knowest thou
not this, how much was Hector mightier than thou in war-craft? yet
before my might, my spear, he shrank. Ay, with his valour was there blent
discretion. Thou thy thoughts are deathward set, who dar'st defy me to
the battle, me, a mightier far than thou! Thou canst not say that friendship
of our fathers thee shall screen; nor me thy gifts shall wile to let thee pass
scatheless from war, as once did Tydeus' son. Though thou didst 'scape
his fury, will not I suffer thee to return alive from war. Ha, in thy many
helpers dost thou trust who with thee, like so many worthless flies, flit
round the noble Achilles' corpse? To these death and black doom shall
my swift onset deal."
[309] Then on the Trojans this way and that he turned, as mid long forestglens a lion turns on hounds, and Trojans many and Lycians slew that
came for honour hungry, till he stood mid a wide ring of flinchers; like a
shoal of darting fish when sails into their midst dolphin or shark, a huge
sea-fosterling; so shrank they from the might of Telamon's son, as aye he
charged amidst the rout. But still swarmed fighters up, till round Achilles'
corse to right, to left, lay in the dust the slain countless, as boars around a
lion at bay; and evermore the strife waxed deadlier. Then too
Hippolochus' war-wise son was slain by Aias of the heart of fire. He fell
backward upon Achilles, even as falls a sapling on a sturdy mountain-oak;
so quelled by the spear on Peleus' son he fell. But for his rescue Anchises'
stalwart son strove hard, with all his comrades battle-fain, and haled the
corse forth, and to sorrowing friends gave it, to bear to Ilium's hallowed
burg. Himself to spoil Achilles still fought on, till warrior Aias pierced him
with the spear through the right forearm. Swiftly leapt he back from
murderous war, and hasted thence to Troy. There for his healing cunning
leeches wrought, who stanched the blood-rush, and laid on the gash
balms, such as salve war-stricken warriors' pangs.
[338] But Aias still fought on: here, there he slew with thrusts like
lightning-flashes. His great heart ached sorely for his mighty cousin slain.
And now the warrior-king Laertes' son fought at his side: before him
blenched the foe, as he smote down Peisander's fleetfoot son, the warrior
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Maenalus, who left his home in far-renowned Abydos: down on him he
hurled Atymnius, the goodly son whom Pegasis the bright-haired Nymph
had borne to strong Emathion by Granicus' stream. Dead by his side he
laid Orestius' son, Proteus, who dwelt 'neath lofty Ida's folds. Ah, never
did his mother welcome home that son from war, Panaceia beauty-famed!
He fell by Odysseus' hands, who spilt the lives of many more whom his
death-hungering spear reached in that fight around the mighty dead. Yet
Alcon, son of Megacles battle-swift, hard by Odysseus' right knee drave
the spear home, and about the glittering greave the blood dark-crimsom
welled. He recked not of the wound, but was unto his smiter sudden
death; for clear through his shield he stabbed him with his spear amidst
his battle-fury: to the earth backward he dashed him by his giant might
and strength of hand: clashed round him in the dust his armour, and his
corslet was distained with crimson life-blood. Forth from flesh and shield
the hero plucked the spear of death: the soul followed the lance-head
from the body forth, and life forsook its mortal mansion. Then rushed on
his comrades, in his wound's despite, Odysseus, nor from that stern
battle-toil refrained him. And by this a mingled host of Danaans eagerhearted fought around the mighty dead, and many and many a foe slew
they with those smooth-shafted ashen spears. Even as the winds strew
down upon the ground the flying leaves, when through the forest-glades
sweep the wild gusts, as waneth autumn-tide, and the old year is dying; so
the spears of dauntless Danaans strewed the earth with slain, for loyal to
dead Achilles were they all, and loyal to hero Aias to the death. For like
black Doom he blasted the ranks of Troy. Then against Aias Paris strained
his bow; but he was ware thereof, and sped a stone swift to the archer's
head: that bolt of death crashed through his crested helm, and darkness
closed round him. In dust down fell he: naught availed his shafts their
eager lord, this way and that scattered in dust: empty his quiver lay, flew
from his hand the bow. In haste his friends upcaught him from the earth,
and Hector's steeds hurried him thence to Troy, scarce drawing breath,
and moaning in his pain. Nor left his men the weapons of their lord, but
gathered up all from the plain, and bare them to the prince; while Aias
after him sent a wrathful shout: "Dog, thou hast 'scaped the heavy hand
of death To-day! But swiftly thy last hour shall come by some strong
Argive's hands, or by mine own, but now have I a nobler task in hand,
from murder's grip to rescue Achilles' corse."
[402] Then turned he on the foe, hurling swift doom on such as fought
around Peleides yet. These saw how many yielded up the ghost ‘neath his
strong hands, and, with hearts failing them for fear, against him could they
stand no more. As rascal vultures were they, which the swoop of an eagle,
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king of birds, scares far away from carcasses of sheep that wolves have
torn; so this way, that way scattered they before the hurtling stones, the
sword, the might of Aias. In utter panic from the war they fled, in
huddled rout, like starlings from the swoop of a death-dealing hawk,
when, fleeing bane, one drives against another, as they dart all terrorhuddled in tumultuous flight. So from the war to Priam's burg they fled
wretchedly clad with terror as a cloak, quailing from mighty Aias' battleshout, as with hands dripping blood-gouts he pursued. Yea, all, one after
other, had he slain, had they not streamed through city-gates flung wide
hard-panting, pierced to the very heart with fear. Pent there within he left
them, as a shepherd leaves folded sheep, and strode back o'er the plain;
yet never touched he with his feet the ground, but aye he trod on dead
men, arms, and blood; for countless corpses lay o'er that wide stretch
even from broad-wayed Troy to Hellespont, bodies of strong men slain,
the spoil of Doom. As when the dense stalks of sun-ripened corn fall
'neath the reapers' hands, and the long swaths, heavy with full ears,
overspread the field, and joys the heart of him who oversees the toil, lord
of the harvest; even so, by baleful havoc overmastered, lay all round facedownward men remembering not the death-denouncing war-shout.
[440] But the sons of fair Achaea left their slaughtered foes in dust and
blood unstripped of arms awhile till they should lay upon the pyre the son
of Peleus, who in battle-shock had been their banner of victory, charging
in his might. So the kings drew him from that stricken field straining
beneath the weight of giant limbs, and with all loving care they bore him
on, and laid him in his tent before the ships. And round him gathered that
great host, and wailed heart-anguished him who had been the Achaeans'
strength, and now, forgotten all the splendour of spears, lay mid the tents
by moaning Hellespont, in stature more than human, even as lay Tityos,
who sought to force Queen Leto, when she fared to Pytho: swiftly in his
wrath Apollo shot, and laid him low, who seemed invincible: in a foul lake
of gore there lay he, covering many a rood of ground, on the broad earth,
his mother; and she moaned over her son, of blessed Gods abhorred; but
Lady Leto laughed. So grand of mould there in the foemen's land lay
Aeacus' son, for joy to Trojans, but for endless grief to Achaean men
lamenting. Moaned the air with sighing from the abysses of the sea; and
passing heavy grew the hearts of all, thinking: "Now shall we perish by the
hands of Trojans!" Then by those dark ships they thought of white-haired
fathers left in halls afar, of wives new-wedded, who by couches cold
mourned, waiting, waiting, with their tender babes for husbands
unreturning; and they groaned in bitterness of soul. A passion of grief
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came o'er their hearts; they fell upon their faces on the deep sand flung
down, and wept as men all comfortless round Peleus' mighty son, and
clutched and plucked out by the roots their hair, and east upon their heads
defiling sand. Their cry was like the cry that goeth up from folk that after
battle by their walls are slaughtered, when their maddened foes set fire to
a great city, and slay in heaps on heaps her people, and make spoil of all
her wealth; so wild and high they wailed beside the sea, because the
Danaans' champion, Aeacus' son, lay, grand in death, by a God's arrow
slain, as Ares lay, when She of the Mighty Father with that huge stone
down dashed him on Troy's plain.
[489] Ceaselessly wailed the Myrmidons Achilles, a ring of mourners
round the kingly dead, that kind heart, friend alike to each and all, to no
man arrogant nor hard of mood, but ever tempering strength with
courtesy.
[494] Then Aias first, deep-groaning, uttered forth his yearning o'er his
father's brother's son god-stricken -- ay, no man had smitten him of all
upon the wide-wayed earth that dwell! Him glorious Aias heavy-hearted
mourned, now wandering to the tent of Peleus' son, now cast down all his
length, a giant form, on the sea-sands; and thus lamented he: "Achilles,
shield and sword of Argive men, thou hast died in Troy, from Phthia's
plains afar, smitten unwares by that accursed shaft, such thing as weakling
dastards aim in fight! For none who trusts in wielding the great shield,
none who for war can skill to set the helm upon his brows, and sway the
spear in grip, and cleave the brass about the breasts of foes, warreth with
arrows, shrinking from the fray. Not man to man he met thee, whoso
smote; else woundless never had he 'scaped thy lance! But haply Zeus
purposed to ruin all, and maketh all our toil and travail vain -- ay, now will
grant the Trojans victory who from Achaea now hath reft her shield! Ah
me! how shall old Peleus in his halls take up the burden of a mighty grief
now in his joyless age! His heart shall break at the mere rumour of it.
Better so, thus in a moment to forget all pain. But if these evil tidings slay
him not, ah, laden with sore sorrow eld shall come upon him, eating out
his heart with grief by a lone hearth Peleus so passing dear once to the
Blessed! But the Gods vouchsafe no perfect happiness to hapless men."
[528] So he in grief lamented Peleus' son. Then ancient Phoenix made
heart-stricken moan, clasping the noble form of Aeacus' seed, and in wild
anguish wailed the wise of heart: "Thou art reft from me, dear child, and
cureless pain hast left to me! Oh that upon my face the veiling earth had
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fallen, ere I saw thy bitter doom! No pang more terrible hath ever stabbed
mine heart no, not that hour of exile, when I fled from fatherland and
noble parents, fleeing Hellas through, till Peleus welcomed me with gifts,
and lord of his Dolopians made me. In his arms thee through his halls
one day he bare, and set upon my knees, and bade me foster thee, his
babe, with all love, as mine own dear child: I hearkened to him: blithely
didst thou cling about mine heart, and, babbling wordless speech, didst
call me `father' oft, and didst bedew my breast and tunic with thy baby
lips. Ofttimes with soul that laughed for glee I held thee in mine arms; for
mine heart whispered me `This fosterling through life shall care for thee,
staff of thine age shall be.' And that mine hope was for a little while
fulfilled; but now thou hast vanished into darkness, and to me is left long
heart-ache wild with all regret. Ah, might my sorrow slay me, ere the tale
to noble Peleus come! When on his ears falleth the heavy tidings, he shall
weep and wail without surcease. Most piteous grief we twain for thy sake
shall inherit aye, thy sire and I, who, ere our day of doom, mourning shall
go down to the grave for thee -- ay, better this than life unholpen of
thee!"
[563] So moaned his ever-swelling tide of grief. And Atreus' son beside
him mourned and wept with heart on fire with inly smouldering pain:
"Thou hast perished, chiefest of the Danaan men, hast perished, and hast
left the Achaean host fenceless! Now thou art fallen, are they left an easier
prey to foes. Thou hast given joy to Trojans by thy fall, who dreaded thee
as sheep a lion. These with eager hearts even to the ships will bring the
battle now. Zeus, Father, thou too with deceitful words beguilest mortals!
Thou didst promise me that Priam's burg should be destroyed; but now
that promise given dost thou not fulfil, but thou didst cheat mine heart: I
shall not win the war's goal, now Achilles is no more."
[579] So did he cry heart-anguished. Mourned all round wails
multitudinous for Peleus' son: the dark ships echoed back the voice of
grief, and sighed and sobbed the immeasurable air. And as when long searollers, onward driven by a great wind, heave up far out at sea, and
strandward sweep with terrible rush, and aye headland and beach with
shattered spray are scourged, and roar unceasing; so a dread sound rose of
moaning of the Danaans round the corse, ceaselessly wailing Peleus'
aweless son.
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[590] And on their mourning soon black night had come, but spake unto
Atreides Neleus' son,
Nestor, whose own heart bare its load of grief remembering his own son
Antilochus: "O mighty Agamemnon, sceptre-lord of Argives, from wideshrilling lamentation refrain we for this day. None shall withhold hereafter
these from all their heart's desire of weeping and lamenting many days.
But now go to, from aweless Aeacus' son wash we the foul blood-gouts,
and lay we him upon a couch: unseemly it is to shame the dead by leaving
them untended long."
[603] So counselled Neleus' son, the passing-wise. Then hasted he his
men, and bade them set caldrons of cold spring-water o'er the flames, and
wash the corse, and clothe in vesture fair, sea-purple, which his mother
gave her son at his first sailing against Troy. With speed they did their
lord's command: with loving care, all service meetly rendered, on a couch
laid they the mighty fallen, Peleus' son.
[612] The Trito-born, the passing-wise, beheld and pitied him, and
showered upon his head ambrosia, which hath virtue aye to keep taintless,
men say, the flesh of warriors slain. Like softly-breathing sleeper dewyfresh she made him: over that dead face she drew a stern frown, even as
when he lay, with wrath darkening his grim face, clasping his slain friend
Patroclus; and she made his frame to be more massive, like a war-god to
behold. And wonder seized the Argives, as they thronged and saw the
image of a living man, where all the stately length of Peleus' son lay on the
couch, and seemed as though he slept.
[626] Around him all the woeful captive-maids, whom he had taken for a
prey, what time he had ravaged hallowed Lemnos, and had scaled the
towered crags of Thebes, Eetion's town, wailed, as they stood and rent
their fair young flesh, and smote their breasts, and from their hearts
bemoaned that lord of gentleness and courtesy, who honoured even the
daughters of his foes. And stricken most of all with heart-sick pain Briseis,
hero Achilles' couchmate, bowed over the dead, and tore her fair young
flesh with ruthless fingers, shrieking: her soft breast was ridged with gory
weals, so cruelly she smote it thou hadst said that crimson blood had
dripped on milk. Yet, in her griefs despite, her winsome loveliness shone
out, and grace hung like a veil about her, as she wailed: "Woe for this grief
passing all griefs beside! Never on me came anguish like to this not when
my brethren died, my fatherland was wasted -- like this anguish for thy
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death! Thou wast my day, my sunlight, my sweet life, mine hope of good,
my strong defence from harm, dearer than all my beauty -- yea, more dear
than my lost parents! Thou wast all in all to me, thou only, captive though
I be. Thou tookest from me every bondmaid's task and like a wife didst
hold me. Ah, but now me shall some new Achaean master bear to fertile
Sparta, or to thirsty Argos. The bitter cup of thraldom shall I drain,
severed, ah me, from thee! Oh that the earth had veiled my dead face ere I
saw thy doom!"
[659] So for slain Peleus' son did she lament with woeful handmaids and
heart-anguished Greeks, mourning a king, a husband. Never dried der
tears were: ever to the earth they streamed like sunless water trickling
from a rock while rime and snow yet mantle o'er the earth above it; yet
the frost melts down before the east-wind and the flame-shafts of the sun.
[667] Now came the sound of that upringing wail to Nereus' Daughters,
dwellers in the depths unfathomed. With sore anguish all their hearts were
smitten: piteously they moaned: their cry shivered along the waves of
Hellespont. Then with dark mantles overpalled they sped swiftly to where
the Argive men were thronged. As rushed their troop up silver paths of
sea, the flood disported round them as they came. With one wild cry they
floated up; it rang, a sound as when fleet-flying cranes forebode a great
storm. Moaned the monsters of the deep plaintively round that train of
mourners. Fast on sped they to their goal, with awesome cry wailing the
while their sister's mighty son. Swiftly from Helicon the Muses came
heart-burdened with undying grief, for love and honour to the Nereid
starry-eyed.
[685] Then Zeus with courage filled the Argive men, that-eyes of flesh
might undismayed behold that glorious gathering of Goddesses. Then
those Divine Ones round Achilles' corse pealed forth with one voice from
immortal lips a lamentation. Rang again the shores of Hellespont. As rain
upon the earth their tears fell round the dead man, Aeacus' son; for out of
depths of sorrow rose their moan. And all the armour, yea, the tents, the
ships of that great sorrowing multitude were wet with tears from everwelling springs of grief. His mother cast her on him, clasping him, and
kissed her son's lips, crying through her tears: "Now let the rosy-vestured
Dawn in heaven exult! Now let broad-flowing Axius exult, and for
Asteropaeus dead put by his wrath! Let Priam's seed be glad but I unto
Olympus will ascend, and at the feet of everlasting Zeus will cast me,
185
bitterly planning that he gave me, an unwilling bride, unto a man -- a man
whom joyless eld soon overtook, to whom the Fates are near, with death
for gift. Yet not so much for his lot do I grieve as for Achilles; for Zeus
promised me to make him glorious in the Aeacid halls, in recompense for
the bridal I so loathed that into wild wind now I changed me, now to
water, now in fashion as a bird I was, now as the blast of flame; nor might
a mortal win me for his bride, who seemed all shapes in turn that earth
and heaven contain, until the Olympian pledged him to bestow a godlike
son on me, a lord of war. Yea, in a manner this did he fulfil faithfully; for
my son was mightiest of men. But Zeus made brief his span of life unto
my sorrow. Therefore up to heaven will I: to Zeus's mansion will I go and
wail my son, and will put Zeus in mind of all my travail for him and his
sons in their sore stress, and sting his soul with shame."
[728] So in her wild lament the Sea-queen cried. But now to Thetis spake
Calliope, she in whose heart was steadfast wisdom throned: "From
lamentation, Thetis, now forbear, and do not, in the frenzy of thy grief for
thy lost son, provoke to wrath the Lord of Gods and men. Lo, even sons
of Zeus, the Thunder-king, have perished, overborne by evil fate.
Immortal though I be, mine own son Orpheus died, whose magic song
drew all the forest-trees to follow him, and every craggy rock and riverstream, and blasts of winds shrill-piping stormy-breathed, and birds that
dart through air on rushing wings. Yet I endured mine heavy sorrow:
Gods ought not with anguished grief to vex their souls. Therefore make
end of sorrow-stricken wail for thy brave child; for to the sons of earth
minstrels shall chant his glory and his might, by mine and by my sisters'
inspiration, unto the end of time. Let not thy soul be crushed by dark
grief, nor do thou lament like those frail mortal women. Know'st thou not
that round all men which dwell upon the earth hovereth irresistible deadly
Fate, who recks not even of the Gods? Such power she only hath for
heritage. Yea, she soon shall destroy gold-wealthy Priam's town, and
Trojans many and Argives doom to death, whomso she will. No God can
stay her hand."
[758] So in her wisdom spake Calliope. Then plunged the sun down into
Ocean's stream, and sable-vestured Night came floating up o'er the wide
firmament, and brought her boon of sleep to sorrowing mortals. On the
sands there slept they, all the Achaean host, with heads bowed 'neath the
burden of calamity. But upon Thetis sleep laid not his hand: still with the
deathless Nereids by the sea she sate; on either side the Muses spake one
after other comfortable words to make that sorrowing heart forget its
pain.
186
[770] But when with a triumphant laugh the Dawn soared up the sky, and
her most radiant light shed over all the Trojans and their king, then,
sorrowing sorely for Achilles still, the Danaans woke to weep. Day after
day, for many days they wept. Around them moaned far-stretching
beaches of the sea, and mourned great Nereus for his daughter Thetis'
sake; and mourned with him the other Sea-gods all for dead Achilles.
Then the Argives gave the corpse of great Peleides to the flame. A pyre of
countless tree-trunks built they up which, all with one mind toiling, from
the heights of Ida they brought down; for Atreus' sons sped on the work,
and charged them to bring thence wood without measure, that consumed
with speed might be Achilles' body. All around piled they about the pyre
much battle-gear of strong men slain; and slew and cast thereon full many
goodly sons of Trojan men, and snorting steeds, and mighty bulls withal,
and sheep and fatling swine thereon they cast. And wailing captive maids
from coffers brought mantles untold; all cast they on the pyre: gold
heaped they there and amber. All their hair the Myrmidons shore, and
shrouded with the same the body of their king. Briseis laid her own shorn
tresses on the corpse, her gift, her last, unto her lord. Great jars of oil full
many poured they out thereon, with jars of honey and of wine, rich blood
of the grape that breathed an odour as of nectar, yea, cast incensebreathing perfumes manifold marvellous sweet, the precious things put
forth by earth, and treasures of the sea divine.
[805] Then, when all things were set in readiness about the pyre, all,
footmen, charioteers, compassed that woeful bale, clashing their arms,
while, from the viewless heights Olympian, Zeus rained down ambrosia
on dead Aeacus' son. For honour to the Goddess, Nereus' child, he sent
to Aeolus Hermes, bidding him summon the sacred might of his swift
winds, for that the corpse of Aeacus' son must now be burned. With
speed he went, and Aeolus refused not: the tempestuous North in haste
he summoned, and the wild blast of the West; and to Troy sped they on
their whirlwind wings. Fast in mad onrush, fast across the deep they
darted; roared beneath them as they flew the sea, the land; above crashed
thunder-voiced clouds headlong hurtling through the firmament. Then by
decree of Zeus down on the pyre of slain Achilles, like a charging host
swooped they; upleapt the Fire-god's madding breath: uprose a long wail
from the Myrmidons. Then, though with whirlwind rushes toiled the
winds, all day, all night, they needs must fan the flames ere that death-pyre
burned out. Up to the heavens vast-volumed rolled the smoke. The huge
tree-trunks groaned, writhing, bursting, in the heat, and dropped the dark187
grey ash all round. So when the winds had tirelessly fulfilled their mighty
task, back to their cave they rode cloud-charioted.
[834] Then, when the fire had last of all consumed that hero-king, when
all the steeds, the men slain round the pyre had first been ravined up, with
all the costly offerings laid around the mighty dead by Achaia's weeping
sons, the glowing embers did the Myrmidons quench with wine. Then
clear to be discerned were seen his bones; for nowise like the rest were
they, but like an ancient Giant's; none beside with these were blent; for
bulls and steeds, and sons of Troy, with all that mingled hecatomb, lay in
a wide ring round his corse, and he amidst them, flame-devoured, lay
there alone. So his companions groaning gathered up his bones, and in a
silver casket laid massy and deep, and banded and bestarred with flashing
gold; and Nereus' daughters shed ambrosia over them, and precious nards
for honour to Achilles: fat of kine and amber honey poured they over all.
A golden vase his mother gave, the gift in old time of the Wine-god,
glorious work of the craft-master Fire-god, in the which they laid the
casket that enclosed the bones of mighty-souled Achilles. All around the
Argives heaped a barrow, a giant sign, upon a foreland's uttermost end,
beside the Hellespont's deep waters, wailing loud farewells unto the
Myrmidons' hero-king.
[863] Nor stayed the immortal steeds of Aeacus' son tearless beside the
ships; they also mourned their slain king: sorely loth were they to abide
longer mid mortal men or Argive steeds bearing a burden of consuming
grief; but fain were they to soar through air, afar from wretched men, over
the Ocean's streams, over the Sea-queen's caverns, unto where divine
Podarge bare that storm-foot twain begotten of the West-wind clarionvoiced. Yea, and they had accomplished their desire, but the Gods'
purpose held them back, until from Scyros' isle Achilles' fleetfoot son
should come. Him waited they to welcome, when he came unto the warhost; for the Fates, daughters of holy Chaos, at their birth had spun the
life-threads of those deathless foals, even to serve Poseidon first, and next
Peleus the dauntless king, Achilles then the invincible, and, after these, the
fourth, the mighty-hearted Neoptolemus, whom after death to the Elysian
Plain they were to bear, unto the Blessed Land, by Zeus' decree. For
which cause, though their hearts were pierced with bitter anguish, they
abode still by the ships, with spirits sorrowing for their old lord, and
yearning for the new.
188
[890] Then from the surge of heavy-plunging seas rose the Earth-shaker.
No man saw his feet pace up the strand, but suddenly he stood beside the
Nereid Goddesses, and spake to Thetis, yet for Achilles bowed with grief:
"Refrain from endless mourning for thy son. Not with the dead shall he
abide, but dwell with Gods, as doth the might of Herakles, and Dionysus
ever fair. Not him dread doom shall prison in darkness evermore, nor
Hades keep him. To the light of Zeus soon shall he rise; and I will give to
him a holy island for my gift: it lies within the Euxine Sea: there evermore
a God thy son shall be. The tribes that dwell around shall as mine own
self honour him with incense and with steam of sacrifice. Hush thy
laments, vex not thine heart with grief."
[908] Then like a wind-breath had he passed away over the sea, when that
consoling word was spoken; and a little in her breast revived the spirit of
Thetis: and the God brought this to pass thereafter. All the host moved
moaning thence, and came unto the ships that brought them o'er from
Hellas. Then returned to Helicon the Muses: 'neath the sea, wailing the
dear dead, Nereus' Daughters sank.
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- BOOK V -
S
o when all other contests had an end, Thetis the Goddess laid down
in the midst great-souled Achilles' arms divinely wrought; and all
around flashed out the cunning work wherewith the Fire-god
overchased the shield fashioned for Aeacus' son, the dauntless-souled.
[7] Inwrought upon that labour of a God were first high heaven and
cloudland, and beneath lay earth and sea: the winds, the clouds were there,
the moon and sun, each in its several place; there too were all the stars
that, fixed in heaven, are borne in its eternal circlings round. Above and
through all was the infinite air where to and fro flit birds of slender beak:
thou hadst said they lived, and floated on the breeze. Here Tethys' allembracing arms were wrought, and Ocean's fathomless flow. The
outrushing flood of rivers crying to the echoing hills all round, to right, to
left, rolled o'er the land.
[20] Round it rose league-long mountain-ridges, haunts of terrible lions
and foul jackals: there fierce bears and panthers prowled; with these were
seen wild boars that whetted deadly-clashing tusks in grimly-frothing jaws.
There hunters sped after the hounds: beaters with stone and dart, to the
life portrayed, toiled in the woodland sport.
[27] And there were man-devouring wars, and all horrors of fight: slain
men were falling down mid horse-hoofs; and the likeness of a plain
blood-drenched was on that shield invincible. Panic was there, and Dread,
and ghastly Enyo with limbs all gore-bespattered hideously, and deadly
Strife, and the Avenging Spirits fierce-hearted -- she, still goading warriors
on to the onset they, outbreathing breath of fire. Around them hovered
the relentless Fates; beside them Battle incarnate onward pressed welling,
and from their limbs streamed blood and sweat. There were the ruthless
Gorgons: through their hair horribly serpents coiled with flickering
190
tongues. A measureless marvel was that cunning work of things that made
men shudder to behold seeming as though they verily lived and moved.
[44] And while here all war's marvels were portrayed, yonder were all the
works of lovely peace. The myriad tribes of much-enduring men dwelt in
fair cities. Justice watched o'er all. To diverse toils they set their hands; the
fields were harvest-laden; earth her increase bore.
[50] Most steeply rose on that god-laboured work the rugged flanks of
holy Honour's mount, and there upon a palm-tree throned she sat exalted,
and her hands reached up to heaven. All round her, paths broken by many
rocks thwarted the climbers' feet; by those steep tracks daunted ye saw
returning many folk: few won by sweat of toil the sacred height.
[58] And there were reapers moving down long swaths swinging the
whetted sickles: 'neath their hands the hot work sped to its close. Hard
after these many sheaf-binders followed, and the work grew passing great.
With yoke-bands on their necks oxen were there, whereof some drew the
wains heaped high with full-eared sheaves, and further on were others
ploughing, and the glebe showed black behind them. Youths with everbusy goads followed: a world of toil was there portrayed.
[68] And there a banquet was, with pipe and harp, dances of maids, and
flashing feet of boys, all in swift movement, like to living souls.
[72] Hard by the dance and its sweet winsomeness out of the sea was
rising lovely-crowned
Cypris, foam-blossoms still upon her hair; and round her hovered smiling
witchingly Desire, and danced the Graces lovely-tressed.
[76] And there were lordly Nereus' Daughters shown leading their sister
up from the wide sea to her espousals with the warrior-king. And round
her all the Immortals banqueted on Pelion's ridge far-stretching. All about
lush dewy watermeads there were, bestarred with flowers innumerable,
grassy groves, and springs with clear transparent water bright.
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[84] There ships with sighing sheets swept o'er the sea, some beating up to
windward, some that sped before a following wind, and round them
heaved the melancholy surge. Seared shipmen rushed this way and that,
adread for tempest-gusts, hauling the white sails in, to 'scape the death -it all seemed real -- some tugging at the oars, while the dark sea on either
side the ship grew hoary 'neath the swiftly-plashing blades.
[93] And there triumphant the Earth-shaker rode amid sea-monsters'
stormy-footed steeds drew him, and seemed alive, as o'er the deep they
raced, oft smitten by the golden whip. Around their path of flight the
waves fell smooth, and all before them was unrippled calm. Dolphins on
either hand about their king swarmed, in wild rapture of homage bowing
backs, and seemed like live things o'er the hazy sea swimming, albeit all of
silver wrought.
[103] Marvels of untold craft were imaged there by cunning-souled
Hephaestus' deathless hands upon the shield. And Ocean's fathomless
flood clasped like a garland all the outer rim, and compassed all the strong
shield's curious work.
[108] And therebeside the massy helmet lay. Zeus in his wrath was set
upon the crest throned on heaven's dome; the Immortals all around
fierce-battling with the Titans fought for Zeus. Already were their foes
enwrapped with flame, for thick and fast as snowflakes poured from
heaven the thunderbolts: the might of Zeus was roused, and burning
giants seemed to breathe out flames.
[116] And therebeside the fair strong corslet lay, unpierceable, which
clasped Peleides once: there were the greaves close-lapping, light alone to
Achilles; massy of mould and huge they were.
[120] And hard by flashed the sword whose edge and point no mail could
turn, with golden belt, and sheath of silver, and with haft of ivory:
brightest amid those wondrous arms it shone. Stretched on the earth
thereby was that dread spear, long as the tall-tressed pines of Pelion, still
breathing out the reek of Hector's blood.
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[127] Then mid the Argives Thetis sable-stoled in her deep sorrow for
Achilles spake: "Now all the athlete-prizes have been won which I set
forth in sorrow for my child. Now let that mightiest of the Argives come
who rescued from the foe my dead: to him these glorious and immortal
arms I give which even the blessed Deathless joyed to see."
[135] Then rose in rivalry, each claiming them, Laertes' seed and godlike
Telamon's son, Aias, the mightiest far of Danaan men: he seemed the star
that in the glittering sky outshines the host of heaven, Hesperus, so
splendid by Peleides' arms he stood; "And let these judge," he cried,
"Idomeneus, Nestor, and kingly-counselled Agamemnon," for these, he
weened, would sureliest know the truth of deeds wrought in that glorious
battle-toil. "To these I also trust most utterly," Odysseus said, "for
prudent of their wit be these, and princeliest of all Danaan men."
[148] But to Idomeneus and Atreus' son spake Nestor apart, and willingly
they heard: "Friends, a great woe and unendurable this day the careless
Gods have laid on us, in that into this lamentable strife Aias the mighty
hath been thrust by them against Odysseus passing-wise. For he, to
whichsoe'er God gives the victor's glory -- O yea, he shall rejoice! But he
that 1oseth -- all for the grief in all the Danaans' hearts for him! And ours
shall be the deepest grief of all; for that man will not in the war stand by
us as of old. A sorrowful day it shall be for us, whichsoe'er of these shall
break into fierce anger, seeing they are of our heroes chiefest, this in war,
and that in counsel. Hearken then to me, seeing that I am older far than
ye, not by a few years only: with mine age is prudence joined, for I have
suffered and wrought much; and in counsel ever the old man, who
knoweth much, excelleth younger men. Therefore let us ordain to judge
this cause 'twixt godlike Aias and war-fain Odysseus, our Trojan captives.
They shall say whom most our foes dread, and who saved Peleides' corse
from that most deadly fight. Lo, in our midst be many spear-won Trojans,
thralls of Fate; and these will pass true judgment on these twain, to neither
showing favour, since they hate alike all authors of their misery."
[179] He spake: replied Agamemnon lord of spears: "Ancient, there is
none other in our midst wiser than thou, of Danaans young or old, in that
thou say'st that unforgiving wrath will burn in him to whom the Gods
herein deny the victory; for these which strive are both our chiefest.
Therefore mine heart too is set on this, that to the thralls of war this
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judgment we commit: the loser then shall against Troy devise his deadly
work of vengeance, and shall not be wroth with us."
[190] He spake, and these three, being of one mind, in hearing of all men
refused to judge judgment so thankless: they would none of it. Therefore
they set the high-born sons of Troy there in the midst, spear-thralls
although they were, to give just judgment in the warriors' strife. Then in
hot anger Aias rose, and spake: "Odysseus, frantic soul, why hath a God
deluded thee, to make thee hold thyself my peer in might invincible?
Dar'st thou say that thou, when slain Achilles lay in dust, when round him
swarmed the Trojans, didst bear back that furious throng, when I amidst
them hurled death, and thou coweredst away? Thy dam bare thee a craven
and a weakling wretch frail in comparison of me, as is a cur beside a lion
thunder-voiced! No battle-biding heart is in thy breast, but wiles and
treachery be all thy care. Hast thou forgotten how thou didst shrink back
from faring with Achaea's gathered host to Ilium's holy burg, till Atreus'
sons forced thee, the cowering craven, how loth soe'er, to follow them -would God thou hadst never come! For by thy counsel left we in Lemnos'
isle groaning in agony Poeas' son renowned. And not for him alone was
ruin devised of thee; for godlike Palamedes too didst thou contrive
destruction -- ha, he was alike in battle and council better than thou! And
now thou dar'st to rise up against me, neither remembering my kindness,
nor having respect unto the mightier man who rescued thee erewhile,
when thou didst quaff in fight before the onset of thy foes, when thou,
forsaken of all Greeks beside, midst tumult of the fray, wast fleeing too!
Oh that in that great fight Zeus' self had stayed my dauntless might with
thunder from his heaven! Then with their two-edged swords the Trojan
men had hewn thee limb from limb, and to their dogs had cast thy
carrion! Then thou hadst not presumed to meet me, trusting in thy
trickeries! Wretch, wherefore, if thou vauntest thee in might beyond all
others, hast thou set thy ships in the line's centre, screened from foes, nor
dared as I, on the far wing to draw them up? Because thou wast afraid!
Not thou it was who savedst from devouring fire the ships; but I with
heart unquailing there stood fast facing the fire and Hector ay, even he
gave back before me everywhere in fight. Thou -- thou didst fear him aye
with deadly fear! Oh, had this our contention been but set amidst that
very battle, when the roar of conflict rose around Achilles slain! Then had
thine own eyes seen me bearing forth out from the battle's heart and fury
of foes that goodly armour and its hero lord unto the tents. But here thou
canst but trust in cunning speech, and covetest a place amongst the
mighty! Thou -- thou hast not strength to wear Achilles' arms invincible,
nor sway his massy spear in thy weak hands! But I they are verily moulded
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to my frame: yea, seemly it is I wear those glorious arms, who shall not
shame a God's gifts passing fair. But wherefore for Achilles' glorious arms
with words discourteous wrangling stand we here? Come, let us try in
strife with brazen spears who of us twain is best in murderous right! For
silver-footed Thetis set in the midst this prize for prowess, not for
pestilent words. In folkmote may men have some use for words: in pride
of prowess I know me above thee far, and great Achilles' lineage is mine
own."
[276] He spake: with scornful glance and bitter speech Odysseus the
resourceful chode with him: "Aias, unbridled tongue, why these vain
words to me? Thou hast called me pestilent, niddering, and weakling: yet I
boast me better far than thou in wit and speech, which things increase the
strength of men. Lo, how the craggy rock, adamantine though it seem, the
hewers of stone amid the hills by wisdom undermine full lightly, and by
wisdom shipmen cross the thunderous-plunging sea, when mountain-high
it surgeth, and by craft do hunters quell strong lions, panthers, boars, yea,
all the brood of wild things. Furious-hearted bulls are tamed to bear the
yoke-bands by device of men. Yea, all things are by wit accomplished. Still
it is the man who knoweth that excels the witless man alike in toils and
counsels. For my keen wit did Oeneus' valiant son choose me of all men
with him to draw nigh to Hector's watchmen: yea, and mighty deeds we
twain accomplished. I it was who brought to Atreus' sons Peleides farrenowned, their battle-helper. Whensoe'er the host needeth some other
champion, not for the sake of thine hands will he come, nor by the rede
of other Argives: of Achaeans I alone will draw him with soft suasive
words to where strong men are warring. Mighty power the tongue hath
over men, when courtesy inspires it. Valour is a deedless thing; and bulk
and big assemblage of a man cometh to naught, by wisdom unattended.
But unto me the Immortals gave both strength and wisdom, and unto the
Argive host made me a blessing. Nor, as thou hast said, hast thou in time
past saved me when in flight from foes. I never fled, but steadfastly
withstood the charge of all the Trojan host. Furious the enemy came on
like a flood but I by might of hands cut short the thread of many lives.
Herein thou sayest not true me in the fray thou didst not shield nor save,
but for thine own life roughtest, lest a spear should pierce thy back if thou
shouldst turn to flee from war. My ships? I drew them up mid-line, not
dreading the battle-fury of any foe, but to bring healing unto Atreus' sons
of war's calamities: and thou didst set far from their help thy ships. Nay
more, I seamed with cruel stripes my body, and entered so the Trojans'
burg, that I might learn of them all their devisings for this troublous war.
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Nor ever I dreaded Hector's spear; myself rose mid the foremost, eager
for the fight, when, prowess-confident, he defied us all. Yea, in the fight
around Achilles, I slew foes far more than thou; 'twas I who saved the
dead king with this armour. Not a whit I dread thy spear now, but my
grievous hurt with pain still vexeth me, the wound I gat in fighting for
these arms and their slain lord. In me as in Achilles is Zeus' blood."
[339] He spake; strong Aias answered him again. "Most cunning and most
pestilent of men, nor I, nor any other Argive, saw thee toiling in that fray,
when Trojans strove fiercely to hale away Achilles slain. My might it was
that with the spear unstrung the knees of some in fight, and others thrilled
with panic as they pressed on ceaselessly. Then fled they in dire straits, as
geese or cranes flee from an eagle swooping as they feed along a grassy
meadow; so, in dread the Trojans shrinking backward from my spear and
lightening sword, fled into Ilium to 'scape destruction. If thy might came
there ever at all, not anywhere nigh me with foes thou foughtest:
somewhere far aloot mid other ranks thou toiledst, nowhere nigh Achilles,
where the one great battle raged."
[357] He spake; replied Odysseus the shrewd heart: "Aias, I hold myself
no worse than thou in wit or might, how goodly in outward show thou be
soever. Nay, I am keener far of wit than thou in all the Argives' eyes. In
battle-prowess do I equal thee haply surpass; and this the Trojans know,
who tremble when they see me from afar. Aye, thou too know'st, and
others know my strength by that hard struggle in the wrestling-match,
when Peleus' son set glorious prizes forth beside the barrow of Patroclus
slain."
[369] So spake Laertes' son the world-renowned. Then on that strife
disastrous of the strong the sons of Troy gave judgment. Victory and
those immortal arms awarded they with one consent to Odysseus mighty
in war. Greatly his soul rejoiced; but one deep groan brake from the
Greeks. Then Aias' noble might stood frozen stiff; and suddenly fell on
him dark wilderment; all blood within his frame boiled, and his gall
swelled, bursting forth in flood. Against his liver heaved his bowels; his
heart with anguished pangs was thrilled; fierce stabbing throes shot
through the filmy veil 'twixt bone and brain; and darkness and confusion
wrapped his mind. With fixed eyes staring on the ground he stood still as
a statue. Then his sorrowing friends closed round him, led him to the
shapely ships, aye murmuring consolations. But his feet trod for the last
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time, with reluctant steps, that path; and hard behind him followed
Doom.
[389] When to the ships beside the boundless sea the Argives, faint for
supper and for sleep, had passed, into the great deep Thetis plunged, and
all the Nereids with her. Round them swam sea-monsters many, children
of the brine.
[394] Against the wise Prometheus bitter-wroth the Sea-maids were,
remembering how that Zeus, moved by his prophecies, unto Peleus gave
Thetis to wife, a most unwilling bride. Then cried in wrath to these
Cymothoe: "O that the pestilent prophet had endured all pangs he
merited, when, deep-burrowing, the eagle tare his liver aye renewed!"
[402] So to the dark-haired Sea-maids cried the Nymph. Then sank the
sun: the onrush of the night shadowed the fields, the heavens were starbestrewn; and by the long-prowed ships the Argives slept by ambrosial
sleep o'ermastered, and by wine the which from proud Idomeneus' realm
of Crete: the shipmen bare o'er foaming leagues of sea.
[409] But Aias, wroth against the Argive men, would none of meat or
drink, nor clasped him round the arms of sleep. In fury he donned his
mail, he clutched his sword, thinking unspeakable thoughts; for now he
thought to set the ships aflame, and slaughter all the Argives, now, to hew
with sudden onslaught of his terrible sword guileful Odysseus limb from
limb. Such things he purposed -- nay, had soon accomplished all, had
Pallas not with madness smitten him; for over Odysseus, strong to
endure, her heart yearned, as she called to mind the sacrifices offered to
her of him continually. Therefore she turned aside from Argive men the
might of Aias. As a terrible storm, whose wings are laden with dread
hurricane-blasts, cometh with portents of heart-numbing fear to shipmen,
when the Pleiads, fleeing adread from glorious Orion, plunge beneath the
stream of tireless Ocean, when the air is turmoil, and the sea is mad with
storm; so rushed he, whithersoe'er his feet might bear. This way and that
he ran, like some fierce beast which darteth down a rock-walled glen's
ravines with foaming jaws, and murderous intent against the hounds and
huntsmen, who have torn out of the cave her cubs, and slain: she runs this
way and that, and roars, if mid the brakes haply she yet may see the dear
ones lost; whom if a man meet in that maddened mood, straightway his
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darkest of all days hath dawned; so ruthless-raving rushed he; blackly
boiled his heart, as caldron on the Fire-god's hearth maddens with
ceaseless hissing o'er the flames from blazing billets coiling round its
sides, at bidding of the toiler eager-souled to singe the bristles of a hugefed boar; so was his great heart boiling in his breast. Like a wild sea he
raved, like tempest-blast, like the winged might of tireless flame amidst
the mountains maddened by a mighty wind, when the wide-blazing forest
crumbles down in fervent heat. So Aias, his fierce heart with agony
stabbed, in maddened misery raved. Foam frothed about his lips; a beastlike roar howled from his throat. About his shoulders clashed his armour.
They which saw him trembled, all cowed by the fearful shout of that one
man.
[457] From Ocean then uprose Dawn golden-reined: like a soft wind
upfloated Sleep to heaven, and there met Hera, even then returned to
Olympus back from Tethys, unto whom but yester-morn she went. She
clasped him round, and kissed him, who had been her marriage-kin since
at her prayer on Ida's erest he had lulled to sleep Cronion, when his anger
burned against the Argives. Straightway Hera passed to Zeus's mansion,
and Sleep swiftly flew to Pasithea's couch. From slumber woke all nations
of the earth. But Aias, like Orion the invincible, prowled on, still bearing
murderous madness in his heart. He rushed upon the sheep, like lion
fierce whose savage heart is stung with hunger-pangs. Here, there, he
smote them, laid them dead in dust thick as the leaves which the strong
North-wind's might strews, when the waning year to winter turns; so on
the sheep in fury Aias fell, deeming he dealt to Danaans evil doom.
[478] Then to his brother Menelaus came, and spake, but not in hearing of
the rest: "This day shall surely be a ruinous day for all, since Aias thus is
sense-distraught. it may be he will set the ships aflame, and slay us all
amidst our tents, in wrath for those lost arms. Would God that Thetis
ne'er had set them for the prize of rivalry! Would God Laertes' son had
not presumed in folly of soul to strive with a better man! Fools were we
all; and some malignant God beguiled us; for the one great war-defence
left us, since Aeacus' son in battle fell, was Aias' mighty strength. And
now the Gods will to our loss destroy him, bringing bane on thee and me,
that all we may fill up the cup of doom, and pass to nothingness."
He spake; replied Agamemnon, lord of spears: "Now nay, Menelaus,
though thine heart he wrung, be thou not wroth with the resourceful king
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of Cephallenian folk, but with the Gods who plot our ruin. Blame not
him, who oft hath been our blessing and our enemies' curse."
[501] So heavy-hearted spake the Danaan kings. But by the streams of
Xanthus far away 'neath tamarisks shepherds cowered to hide from death,
ss when from a swift eagle cower hares 'neath tangled copses, when with
sharp fierce scream this way and that with wings wide-shadowing he
wheeleth very nigh; so they here, there, quailed from the presence of that
furious man. At last above a slaughtered ram he stood, and with a deadly
laugh he cried to it: "Lie there in dust; be meat for dogs and kites!
Achilles' glorious arms have saved not thee, for which thy folly strove
with a better man! Lie there, thou cur! No wife shall fall on thee, and
clasp, and wail thee and her fatherless childs, nor shalt thou greet thy
parents' longing eyes, the staff of their old age! Far from thy land thy
carrion dogs and vultures shall devour!"
[519] So cried he, thinking that amidst the slain Odysseus lay bloodboltered at his feet. But in that moment from his mind and eyes Athena
tore away the nightmare-fiend of Madness havoc-breathing, and it passed
thence swiftly to the rock-walled river Styx where dwell the winged
Erinnyes, they which still visit with torments overweening men.
[527] Then Aias saw those sheep upon the earth gasping in death; and
sore amazed he stood, for he divined that by the Blessed Ones his senses
had been cheated. All his limbs failed under him; his soul was anguishedthrilled: he could not in his horror take one step forward nor backward.
Like some towering rock fast-rooted mid the mountains, there he stood.
But when the wild rout of his thoughts had rallied, he groaned in misery,
and in anguish wailed: "Ah me! why do the Gods abhor me so? They have
wrecked my mind, have with fell madness filled, making me slaughter all
these innocent sheep! Would God that on Odysseus' pestilent heart mine
hands had so avenged me! Miscreant, he brought on me a fell curse! O
may his soul suffer all torments that the Avenging Fiends devise for
villains! On all other Greeks may they bring murderous battle, woeful
griefs, and chiefly on Agamemnon, Atreus' son! Not scatheless to the
home may he return so long desired! But why should I consort, I, a brave
man, with the abominable? Perish the Argive host, perish my life, now
unendurable! The brave no morehath his due guerdon, but the baser sort
are honoured most and loved, as this Odysseus hath worship mid the
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Greeks: but utterly have they forgotten me and all my deeds, all that I
wrought and suffered in their cause."
[557] So spake the brave son of strong Telamon, then thrust the sword of
Hector through his throat. Forth rushed the blood in torrent: in the dust
outstretched he lay, like Typhon, when the bolts of Zeus had blasted him.
Around him groaned the dark earth as he fell upon her breast.
[562] Then thronging came the Danaans, when they saw low laid in dust
the hero; but ere then none dared draw nigh him, but in deadly fear they
watched him from afar. Now hasted they and flung themselves upon the
dead, outstretched upon their faces: on their heads they cast dust, and
their wailing went up to the sky. As when men drive away the tender
lambs out of the fleecy flock, to feast thereon, and round the desolate
pens the mothers leap ceaselessly bleating, so o'er Aias rang that day a
very great and bitter cry. Wild echoes pealed from Ida forest-palled, and
from the plain, the ships, the boundless sea.
[577] Then Teucer clasping him was minded too to rush on bitter doom:
howbeit the rest held from the sword his hand. Anguished he fell upon
the dead, outpouring many a tear more comfortlessly than the orphan
babe that wails beside the hearth, with ashes strewn on head and
shoulders, wails bereavement's day that brings death to the mother who
hath nursed the fatherless child; so wailed he, ever wailed his great deathstricken brother, creeping slow around the corpse, and uttering his
lament: "O Aias, mighty-souled, why was thine heart distraught, that thou
shouldst deal unto thyself murder and bale? All, was it that the sons of
Troy might win a breathing-space from woes, might come and slay the
Greeks, now thou art not? From these shall all the olden courage fail
when fast they fall in fight. Their shield from harm is broken now! For
me, I have no will to see mine home again, now thou art dead. Nay, but I
long here also now to die, that so the earth may shroud me -- me and thee
not for my parents so much do I care, if haply yet they live, if haply yet
spared from the grave, in Salamis they dwell, as for thee, O my glory and
my crown!"
[603] So cried he groaning sore; with answering moan queenly Tecmessa
wailed, the princess-bride of noble Aias, captive of his spear, yet ta'en by
him to wife, and household-queen o'er all his substance, even all that
wives won with a bride-price rule for wedded lords. Clasped in his mighty
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arms, she bare to him a son Eurysaces, in all things like unto his father, far
as babe might be yet cradled in his tent. With bitter moan fell she on that
dear corpse, all her fair form close-shrouded in her veil, and dust-defiled,
and from her anguished heart cried piteously: "Alas for me, for me now
thou art dead, not by the hands of foes in fight struck down, but by thine
own! On me is come a grief ever-abiding! Never had I looked to see thy
woeful death-day here by Troy. Ah, visions shattered by rude hands of
Fate! Oh that the earth had yawned wide for my grave ere I beheld thy
bitter doom! On me no sharper, more heart-piercing pang hath come -no, not when first from fatherland afar and parents thou didst bear me,
wailing sore mid other captives, when the day of bondage had come on
me, a princess theretofore. Not for that dear lost home so much I grieve,
nor for my parents dead, as now for thee: for all thine heart was kindness
unto me the hapless, and thou madest me thy wife, one soul with thee;
yea, and thou promisedst to throne me queen of fair-towered Salamis,
when home we won from Troy. The Gods denied accomplishment
thereof. And thou hast passed unto the Unseen Land: thou hast forgot me
and thy child, who never shall make glad his father's heart, shall never
mount thy throne. But him shall strangers make a wretched thrall: for
when the father is no more, the babe is ward of meaner men. A weary life
the orphan knows, and suffering cometh in from every side upon him like
a flood. To me too thraldom's day shall doubtless come, now thou hast
died, who wast my god on earth."
[647] Then in all kindness Agamemnon spake: "Princess, no man on earth
shall make thee thrall, while Teucer liveth yet, while yet I live. Thou shalt
have worship of us evermore and honour as a Goddess, with thy son, as
though yet living were that godlike man, Aias, who was the Achaeans'
chiefest strength. Ah that he had not laid this load of grief on all, in dying
by his own right hand! For all the countless armies of his foes never
availed to slay him in fair fight."
[658] So spake he, grieved to the inmost heart. The folk woefully wafted
all round. O'er Hellespont echoes of mourning rolled: the sighing air
darkened around, a wide-spread sorrow-pall. Yea, grief laid hold on wise
Odysseus' self for the great dead, and with remorseful soul to anguishstricken Argives thus he spake: "O friends, there is no greater curse to
men than wrath, which groweth till its bitter fruit is strife. Now wrath
hath goaded Aias on to this dire issue of the rage that filled his soul
against me. Would to God that ne'er yon Trojans in the strife for Achilles'
arms had crowned me with that victory, for which strong Telamon's brave
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son, in agony of soul, thus perished by his own right hand! Yet blame not
me, I pray you, for his wrath: blame the dark dolorous Fate that struck
him down. For, had mine heart foreboded aught of this, this desperation
of a soul distraught, never for victory had I striven with him, nor had I
suffered any Danaan else, though ne'er so eager, to contend with him.
Nay, I had taken up those arms divine with mine own hands, and gladly
given them to him, ay, though himself desired it not. But for such mighty
grief and wrath in him I had not looked, since not for a woman's sake nor
for a city, nor possessions wide, I then contended, but for Honour's
meed, which alway is for all right-hearted men the happy goal of all their
rivalry. But that great-hearted man was led astray by Fate, the hateful
fiend; for surely it is unworthy a man to be made passion's fool. The wise
man's part is, steadfast-souled to endure all ills, and not to rage against his
lot."
[695] So spake Laertes' son, the far-renowned. But when they all were
weary of grief and groan, then to those sorrowing ones spake Neleus' son:
"O friends, the pitiless-hearted Fates have laid stroke after stroke of
sorrow upon us, sorrow for Aias dead, for mighty Achilles, for many an
Argive, and for mine own son Antilochus. Yet all unmeet it is day after
day with passion of grief to wail men slain in battle: nay, we must forget
laments, and turn us to the better task of rendering dues beseeming to the
dead, the dues of pyre, of tomb, of bones inurned. No lamentations will
awake the dead; no note thereof he taketh, when the Fates, the ruthless
ones, have swallowed him in night."
[711] So spake he words of cheer: the godlike kings gathered with heavy
hearts around the dead, and many hands upheaved the giant corpse, and
swiftly bare him to the ships, and there washed they away the blood that
clotted lay dust-flecked on mighty limbs and armour: then in linen
swathed him round. From Ida's heights wood without measure did the
young men bring, and piled it round the corpse. Billets and logs yet more
in a wide circle heaped they round; and sheep they laid thereon, fairwoven vests, and goodly kine, and speed-triumphant steeds, and gleaming
gold, and armour without stint, from slain foes by that glorious hero
stripped. And lucent amber-drops they laid thereon, tears, say they, which
the Daughters of the Sun, the Lord of Omens, shed for Phaethon slain,
when by Eridanus' flood they mourned for him. These, for undying
honour to his son, the God made amber, precious in men's eyes. Even
this the Argives on that broad-based pyre cast freely, honouring the
mighty dead. And round him, groaning heavily, they laid silver most fair
and precious ivory, and jars of oil, and whatsoe'er beside they have who
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heap up goodly and glorious wealth. Then thrust they in the strength of
ravening flame, and from the sea there breathed a wind, sent forth by
Thetis, to consume the giant frame of Aias. All the night and all the morn
burned 'neath the urgent stress of that great wind beside the ships that
giant form, as when Enceladus by Zeus' levin was consumed beneath
Thrinacia, when from all the isle smoke of his burning rose -- or like as
when Hercules, trapped by Nessus' deadly guile, gave to devouring fire his
living limbs, what time he dared that awful deed, when groaned all Oeta as
he burned alive, and passed his soul into the air, leaving the man farfamous, to be numbered with the Gods, when earth closed o'er his toiltried mortal part. So huge amid the flames, all-armour clad, lay Aias, all
the joy of fight forgot, while a great multitude watching thronged the
sands. Glad were the Trojans, but the Achaeans grieved.
[657] But when that goodly frame by ravening fire was all consumed, they
quenched the pyre with wine; they gathered up the bones, and reverently
laid in a golden casket. Hard beside Rhoeteium's headland heaped they up
a mound measureless-high. Then scattered they amidst the long ships,
heavy-hearted for the man whom they had honoured even as Achilles.
Then black night, bearing unto all men sleep, upfloated: so they brake
bread, and lay down waiting the Child of the Mist. Short was sleep,
broken by fitful staring through the dark, haunted by dread lest in the
night the foe should fall on them, now Telamon's son was dead.
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- BOOK XII -
W
hen round the walls of Troy the Danaan host had borne much
travail, and yet the end was not, by Calchas then assembled
were the chiefs; for his heart was instructed by the hests of
Phoebus, by the flights of birds, the stars, and all the signs that speak to
men the will of Heaven; so he to that assembly cried: "No longer toil in
leaguer of yon walls; some other counsel let your hearts devise, some
stratagem to help the host and us. For here but yesterday I saw a sign: a
falcon chased a dove, and she, hard pressed, entered a cleft of the rock;
and chafing he tarried long time hard by that rift, but she abode in covert.
Nursing still his wrath, he hid him in a bush. Forth darted she, in folly
deeming him afar: he swooped, and to the hapless dove dealt wretched
death. Therefore by force essay we not to smite Troy, but let cunning
stratagem avail"
[21] He spake; but no man's wit might find a way to escape their grievous
travail, as they sought to find a remedy, till Laertes' son discerned it of his
wisdom, and he spake: "Friend, in high honour held of the Heavenly
Ones, if doomed it be indeed that Priam's burg by guile must fall before
the war-worn Greeks, a great Horse let us fashion, in the which our
mightiest shall take ambush. Let the host burn all their tents, and sail from
hence away to Tenedos; so the Trojans, from their towers gazing, shall
stream forth fearless to the plain. Let some brave man, unknown of any in
Troy, with a stout heart abide without the Horse, crouching beneath its
shadow, who shall say: "Àchaea's lords of might, exceeding fain safe to
win home, made this their offering for safe return, an image to appease
the wrath of Pallas for her image stolen from Troy.' And to this story shall
he stand, how long soe'er they question him, until, though never so
relentless, they believe, and drag it, their own doom, within the town.
Then shall war's signal unto us be given -- to them at sea, by sudden flash
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of torch, to the ambush, by the cry, `Come forth the Horse!' when
unsuspecting sleep the sons of Troy."
[48] He spake, and all men praised him: most of all extolled him Calchas,
that such marvellous guile he put into the Achaeans' hearts, to be for
them assurance of triumph, but for Troy ruin; and to those battle-lords he
cried: "Let your hearts seek none other stratagem, friends; to war-strong
Odysseus' rede give ear. His wise thought shall not miss accomplishment.
Yea, our desire even now the Gods fulfil. Hark! for new tokens come
from the Unseen! Lo, there on high crash through the firmament Zeus'
thunder and lightning! See, where birds to right dart past, and scream with
long-resounding cry! Go to, no more in endless leaguer of Troy linger we.
Hard necessity fills the foe with desperate courage that makes cowards
brave; for then are men most dangerous, when they stake their lives in
utter recklessness of death, as battle now the aweless sons of Troy all
round their burg, mad with the lust of fight."
[68] But cried Achilles' battle-eager son: "Calchas, brave men meet face to
face their foes! Who skulk behind their walls, and fight from towers, are
nidderings, hearts palsied with base fear. Hence with all thought of wile
and stratagem! The great war-travail of the spear beseems true heroes.
Best in battle are the brave."
[75] But answer made to him Laertes' seed: "Bold-hearted child of aweless
Aeacus' son, this as beseems a hero princely and brave, dauntlessly
trusting in thy strength, thou say'st. Yet thine invincible sire's unquailing
might availed not to smite Priam's wealthy burg, nor we, for all our travail.
Nay, with speed, as counselleth Calchas, go we to the ships, and fashion
we the Horse by Epeius' hands, who in the woodwright's craft is chiefest
far of Argives, for Athena taught his lore."
[86] Then all their mightiest men gave ear to him save twain, fiercehearted Neoptolemus and Philoctetes mighty-souled; for these still were
insatiate for the bitter fray, still longed for turmoil of the fight. They bade
their own folk bear against that giant wall what things soe'er for war's
assaults avail, in hope to lay that stately fortress low, seeing Heaven's
decrees had brought them both to war. Yea, they had haply accomplished
all their will, but from the sky Zeus showed his wrath; he shook the earth
beneath their feet, and all the air shuddered, as down before those heroes
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twain he hurled his thunderbolt: wide echoes crashed through all
Dardania. Unto fear straightway turned were their bold hearts: they forgat
their might, and Calchas' counsels grudgingly obeyed. So with the Argives
came they to the ships in reverence for the seer who spake from Zeus or
Phoebus, and they obeyed him utterly.
[106] What time round splendour-kindled heavens the stars from east to
west far-flashing wheel, and when man doth forget his toil, in that still
hour Athena left the high mansions of the Blest, clothed her in shape of a
maiden tender-fleshed, and came to ships and host. Over the head of
brave Epeius stood she in his dream, and bade him build a Horse of tree:
herself would labour in his labour, and herself stand by his side, to the
work enkindling him. Hearing the Goddess' word, with a glad laugh leapt
he from careless sleep: right well he knew the Immortal One celestial.
Now his heart could hold no thought beside; his mind was fixed upon the
wondrous work, and through his soul marched marshalled each device of
craftsmanship.
[122] When rose the dawn, and thrust back kindly night to Erebus, and
through the firmament streamed glad glory, then Epeius told his dream to
eager Argives -- all he saw and heard; and hearkening joyed they with
exceeding joy. Straightway to tall-tressed Ida's leafy glades the sons of
Atreus sent swift messengers. These laid the axe unto the forest-pines,
and hewed the great trees: to their smiting rang the echoing glens. On
those far-stretching hills all bare of undergrowth the high peaks rose:
open their glades were, not, as in time past, haunted of beasts: there dry
the tree-trunks rose wooing the winds. Even these the Achaeans hewed
with axes, and in haste they bare them down from those shagged
mountain heights to Hellespont's shores. Strained with a strenuous spirit
at the work young men and mules; and all the people toiled each at his
task obeying Epeius's hest. For with the keen steel some were hewing
beams, some measuring planks, and some with axes lopped branches away
from trunks as yet unsawn: each wrought his several work. Epeius first
fashioned the feet of that great Horse of Wood: the belly next he shaped,
and over this moulded the back and the great loins behind, the throat in
front, and ridged the towering neck with waving mane: the crested head
he wrought, the streaming tail, the ears, the lucent eyes -- all that of lifelike
horses have. So grew like a live thing that more than human work, for a
God gave to a man that wondrous craft. And in three days, by Pallas's
decree, finished was all. Rejoiced thereat the host of Argos, marvelling
how the wood expressed mettle, and speed of foot -- yea, seemed to
neigh. Godlike Epeius then uplifted hands to Pallas, and for that huge
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Horse he prayed: "Hear, great-souled Goddess: bless thine Horse and
me!" He spake: Athena rich in counsel heard, and made his work a marvel
to all men which saw, or heard its fame in days to be.
[164] But while the Danaans o'er Epeius' work joyed, and their routed
foes within the walls tarried, and shrank from death and pitiless doom,
then, when imperious Zeus far from the Gods had gone to Ocean's
streams and Tethys' caves, strife rose between the Immortals: heart with
heart was set at variance. Riding on the blasts of winds, from heaven to
earth they swooped: the air crashed round them. Lighting down by
Xanthus' stream arrayed they stood against each other, these for the
Achaeans, for the Trojans those; and all their souls were thrilled with lust
of war: there gathered too the Lords of the wide Sea. These in their wrath
were eager to destroy the Horse of Guile and all the ships, and those fair
Ilium. But all-contriving Fate held them therefrom, and turned their
hearts to strife against each other. Ares to the fray rose first, and on
Athena rushed. Thereat fell each on other: clashed around their limbs the
golden arms celestial as they charged. Round them the wide sea
thundered, the dark earth quaked 'neath immortal feet. Rang from them
all far-pealing battle-shouts; that awful cry rolled up to the broad-arching
heaven, and down even to Hades' fathomless abyss: trembled the Titans
there in depths of gloom. Ida's long ridges sighed, sobbed clamorous
streams of ever-flowing rivers, groaned ravines far-furrowed, Argive ships,
and Priam's towers. Yet men feared not, for naught they knew of all that
strife, by Heaven's decree. Then her high peaks the Gods' hands
wrenched from Ida's crest, and hurled against each other: but like
crumbling sands shivered they fell round those invincible limbs, shattered
to small dust. But the mind of Zeus, at the utmost verge of earth, was
ware of all: straight left he Ocean's stream, and to wide heaven ascended,
charioted upon the winds, the East, the North, the West-wind, and the
South: for Iris rainbow-plumed led 'neath the yoke of his eternal ear that
stormy team, the ear which Time the immortal framed for him of
adamant with never-wearying hands. So came he to Olympus' giant ridge.
His wrath shook all the firmament, as crashed from east to west his
thunders; lightnings gleamed, as thick and fast his thunderbolts poured to
earth, and flamed the limitless welkin. Terror fell upon the hearts of those
Immortals: quaked the limbs of all -- ay, deathless though they were! Then
Themis, trembling for them, swift as thought leapt down through clouds,
and came with speed to them -- for in the strife she only had no part and
stood between the fighters, and she cried: "Forbear the conflict! O, when
Zeus is wroth, it ill beseems that everlasting Gods should fight for men's
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sake, creatures of a day: Else shall ye be all suddenly destroyed; for Zeus
will tear up all the hills, and hurl upon you: sons nor daughters will he
spare, but bury 'neath one ruin of shattered earth all. No escape shall ye
find thence to light, in horror of darkness prisoned evermore."
[228] Dreading Zeus' menace gave they heed to her, from strife refrained,
and cast away their wrath, and were made one in peace and amity. Some
heavenward soared, some plunged into the sea, on earth stayed some.
Amid the Achaean host spake in his subtlety Laertes' son: "O valoroushearted lords of the Argive host, now prove in time of need what men ye
be, how passing-strong, how flawless-brave! The hour is this for desperate
emprise: now, with hearts heroic, enter ye yon carven horse, so to attain
the goal of this stern war. For better it is by stratagem and craft now to
destroy this city, for whose sake hither we came, and still are suffering
many afflictions far from our own land. Come then, and let your hearts be
stout and strong for he who in stress of fight hath turned to bay and
snatched a desperate courage from despair, oft, though the weaker, slays a
mightier foe. For courage, which is all men's glory, makes the heart great.
Come then, set the ambush, ye which be our mightiest, and the rest shall
go to Tenedos' hallowed burg, and there abide until our foes have haled
within their walls us with the Horse, as deeming that they bring a gift unto
Tritonis. Some brave man, one whom the Trojans know not, yet we lack,
to harden his heart as steel, and to abide near by the Horse. Let that man
bear in mind heedfully whatsoe'er I said erewhile. And let none other
thought be in his heart, lest to the foe our counsel be revealed."
[261] Then, when all others feared, a man far-famed made answer, Sinon,
marked of destiny to bring the great work to accomplishment. Therefore
with worship all men looked on him, the loyal of heart, as in the midst he
spake: "Odysseus, and all ye Achaean chiefs, this work for which ye crave
will I perform -- yea, though they torture me, though into fire living they
thrust me; for mine heart is fixed not to escape, but die by hands of foes,
except I crown with glory your desire."
[272] Stoutly he spake: right glad the Argives were; and one said: "How
the Gods have given to-day high courage to this man! He hath not been
heretofore valiant. Heaven is kindling him to be the Trojans' ruin, but to
us salvation. Now full soon, I trow, we reach the goal of grievous war, so
long unseen."
208
[279] So a voice murmured mid the Achaean host. Then, to stir up the
heroes, Nestor cried: "Now is the time, dear sons, for courage and
strength: now do the Gods bring nigh the end of toil: now give they
victory to our longing hands. Come, bravely enter ye this cavernous
Horse. For high renown attendeth courage high. Oh that my limbs were
mighty as of old, when Aeson's son for heroes called, to man swift Argo,
when of the heroes foremost I would gladly have entered her, but Pelias
the king withheld me in my own despite. Ah me, but now the burden of
years -- O nay, as I were young, into the Horse will I fearlessly! Glory and
strength shall courage give."
[294] Answered him golden-haired Achilles' son: "Nestor, in wisdom art
thou chief of men; but cruel age hath caught thee in his grip: no more thy
strength may match thy gallant will; therefore thou needs must unto
Tenedos' strand. We will take ambush, we the youths, of strife insatiate
still, as thou, old sire, dost bid."
[301] Then strode the son of Neleus to his side, and kissed his hands, and
kissed the head of him who offered thus himself the first of all to enter
that huge horse, being peril-fain, and bade the elder of days abide without.
Then to the battle-eager spake the old: "Thy father's son art thou!
Achilles' might and chivalrous speech be here! O, sure am I that by thine
hands the Argives shall destroy the stately city of Priam. At the last, after
long travail, glory shall be ours, ours, after toil and tribulation of war; the
Gods have laid tribulation at men's feet but happiness far off, and toil
between: therefore for men full easy is the path to ruin, and the path to
fame is hard, where feet must press right on through painful toil."
[318] He spake: replied Achilles' glorious son: "Old sire, as thine heart
trusteth, be it vouchsafed in answer to our prayers; for best were this: but
if the Gods will otherwise, be it so. Ay, gladlier would I fall with glory in
fight than flee from Troy, bowed 'neath a load of shame."
[324] Then in his sire's celestial arms he arrayed his shoulders; and with
speed in harness sheathed stood the most mighty heroes, in whose healers
was dauntless spirit. Tell, ye Queens of Song, now man by man the names
of all that passed into the cavernous Horse; for ye inspired my soul with
all my song, long ere my cheek grew dark with manhood's beard, what
time I fed my goodly sheep on Smyrna's pasture-lea, from Hermus thrice
209
so far as one may hear a man's shout, by the fane of Artemis, in the
Deliverer's Grove, upon a hill neither exceeding low nor passing high.
[337] Into that cavernous Horse Achilles' son first entered, strong
Menelaus followed then, Odysseus, Sthenelus, godlike Diomede,
Philoctetes and Menestheus, Anticlus, Thoas and Polypoetes goldenhaired, Aias, Eurypylus, godlike Thrasymede, Idomeneus, Meriones, farfamous twain, Podaleirius of spears, Eurymachus, Teucer the godlike,
fierce Ialmenus, Thalpius, Antimachus, Leonteus staunch, Eumelus, and
Euryalus fair as a God, Amphimachus, Demophoon, Agapenor, Akamas,
Meges stalwart Phyleus' son -- yea, more, even all their chiefest, entered
in, so many as that carven Horse could hold. Godlike Epeius last of all
passed in, the fashioner of the Horse; in his breast lay the secret of the
opening of its doors and of their closing: therefore last of all he entered,
and he drew the ladders up whereby they clomb: then made he all secure,
and set himself beside the bolt. So all in silence sat 'twixt victory and
death.
[360] But the rest fired the tents, wherein erewhile they slept, and sailed
the wide sea in their ships. Two mighty-hearted captains ordered these,
Nestor and Agamemnon lord of spears. Fain had they also entered that
great Horse, but all the host withheld them, bidding stay with them ashipboard, ordering their array: for men far better work the works of war
when their kings oversee them; therefore these abode without, albeit
mighty men. So came they swiftly unto Tenedos' shore, and dropped the
anchor-stones, then leapt in haste forth of the ships, and silent waited
there keen-watching till the signal-torch should flash.
[375] But nigh the foe were they in the Horse, and now looked they for
death, and now to smite the town; and on their hopes and fears uprose
the dawn.
[378] Then marked the Trojans upon Hellespont's strand the smoke
upleaping yet through air: no more saw they the ships which brought to
them from Greece destruction dire. With joy to the shore they ran, but
armed them first, for fear still haunted them then marked they that faircarven Horse, and stood marvelling round, for a mighty work was there.
A hapless-seeming man thereby they spied, Sinon; and this one, that one
questioned him touching the Danaans, as in a great ring they compassed
him, and with unangry words first questioned, then with terrible
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threatenings. Then tortured they that man of guileful soul long time
unceasing. Firm as a rock abode the unquivering limbs, the unconquerable
will. His ears, his nose, at last they shore away in every wise tormenting
him, until he should declare the truth, whither were gone the Danaans in
their ships, what thing the Horse concealed within it. He had armed his
mind with resolution, and of outrage foul recked not; his soul endured
their cruel stripes, yea, and the bitter torment of the fire; for strong
endurance into him Hera breathed; and still he told them the same
guileful tale: "The Argives in their ships flee oversea weary of tribulation
of endless war. This horse by Calchas' counsel fashioned they for wise
Athena, to propitiate her stern wrath for that guardian image stol'n from
Troy. And by Odysseus' prompting I was marked for slaughter, to be
sacrificed to the sea-powers, beside the moaning waves, to win them safe
return. But their intent I marked; and ere they spilt the drops of wine, and
sprinkled hallowed meal upon mine head, swiftly I fled, and, by the help
of Heaven, I flung me down, clasping the Horse's feet; and they, sore
loth, perforce must leave me there dreading great Zeus's daughter mightysouled."
[418] In subtlety so he spake, his soul untamed by pain; for a brave man's
part is to endure to the uttermost. And of the Trojans some believed him,
others for a wily knave held him, of whose mind was Laocoon. wisely he
spake: "A deadly fraud is this," He said, "devised by the Achaean chiefs!"
And cried to all straightway to burn the Horse, and know if aught within
its timbers lurked.
[427] Yea, and they had obeyed him, and had 'scaped destruction; but
Athena, fiercely wroth with him, the Trojans, and their city, shook earth's
deep foundations 'neath Laocoon's feet. Straight terror fell on him, and
trembling bowed the knees of the presumptuous: round his head horror
of darkness poured; a sharp pang thrilled his eyelids; swam his eyes
beneath his brows; his eyeballs, stabbed with bitter anguish, throbbed
even from the roots, and rolled in frenzy of pain. Clear through his brain
the bitter torment pierced even to the filmy inner veil thereof; now
bloodshot were his eyes, now ghastly green; anon with rheum they ran, as
pours a stream down from a rugged crag, with thawing snow made turbid.
As a man distraught he seemed: all things he saw showed double, and he
groaned fearfully; yet he ceased not to exhort the men of Troy, and recked
not of his pain. Then did the Goddess strike him utterly blind. Stared his
fixed eyeballs white from pits of blood; and all folk groaned for pity of
their friend, and dread of the Prey-giver, lest he had sinned in folly against
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her, and his mind was thus warped to destruction yea, lest on themselves
like judgment should be visited, to avenge the outrage done to hapless
Sinon's flesh, whereby they hoped to wring the truth from him. So led
they him in friendly wise to Troy, pitying him at the last. Then gathered
all, and o'er that huge Horse hastily cast a rope, and made it fast above;
for under its feet smooth wooden rollers had Epeius laid, that, dragged by
Trojan hands, it might glide on into their fortress. One and all they haled
with multitudinous tug and strain, as when down to the sea young men
sore-labouring drag a ship; hard-crushed the stubborn rollers groan, as,
sliding with weird shrieks, the keel descends into the sea-surge; so that
host with toil dragged up unto their city their own doom, Epeius' work.
With great festoons of flowers they hung it, and their own heads did they
wreathe, while answering each other pealed the flutes. Grimly Enyo
laughed, seeing the end of that dire war; Hera rejoiced on high; glad was
Athena. When the Trojans came unto their city, brake they down the
walls, their city's coronal, that the Horse of Death might be led in. Troy's
daughters greeted it with shouts of salutation; marvelling all gazed at the
mighty work where lurked their doom.
[479] But still Laocoon ceased not to exhort his countrymen to burn the
Horse with fire: they would not hear, for dread of the Gods' wrath. But
then a yet more hideous punishment Athena visited on his hapless sons. A
cave there was, beneath a rugged cliff exceeding high, unscalable, wherein
dwelt fearful monsters of the deadly brood of Typhon, in the rock-clefts
of the isle Calydna that looks Troyward from the sea. Thence stirred she
up the strength of serpents twain, and summoned them to Troy. By her
uproused they shook the island as with earthquake: roared the sea; the
waves disparted as they came. Onward they swept with fearful-flickering
tongues: shuddered the very monsters of the deep: Xanthus' and Simois'
daughters moaned aloud, the River-nymphs: the Cyprian Queen looked
down in anguish from Olympus. Swiftly they came whither the Goddess
sped them: with grim jaws whetting their deadly fangs, on his hapless sons
sprang they. All Trojans panic-stricken fled, seeing those fearsome
dragons in their town. No man, though ne'er so dauntless theretofore,
dared tarry; ghastly dread laid hold on all shrinking in horror from the
monsters. Screamed the women; yea, the mother forgat her child, fearfrenzied as she fled: all Troy became one shriek of fleers, one huddle of
jostling limbs: the streets were choked with cowering fugitives. Alone was
left Laocoon with his sons, for death's doom and the Goddess chained
their feet. Then, even as from destruction shrank the lads, those deadly
fangs had seized and ravined up the twain, outstretching to their sightless
sire agonized hands: no power to help had he. Trojans far off looked on
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from every side weeping, all dazed. And, having now fulfilled upon the
Trojans Pallas' awful hest, those monsters vanished 'neath the earth; and
still stands their memorial, where into the fane they entered of Apollo in
Pergamus the hallowed. Therebefore the sons of Troy gathered, and
reared a cenotaph for those who miserably had perished. Over it their
father from his blind eyes rained the tears: over the empty tomb their
mother shrieked, boding the while yet worse things, wailing o'er the ruin
wrought by folly of her lord, dreading the anger of the Blessed Ones. As
when around her void nest in a brake in sorest anguish moans the
nightingale whose fledglings, ere they learned her plaintive song, a hideous
serpent's fangs have done to death, and left the mother anguish, endless
woe, and bootless crying round her desolate home; so groaned she for her
children's wretched death, so moaned she o'er the void tomb; and her
pangs were sharpened by her lord's plight stricken blind.
[538] While she for children and for husband moaned -- these slain, he of
the sun's light portionless -- the Trojans to the Immortals sacrificed,
pouring the wine. Their hearts beat high with hope to escape the weary
stress of woeful war. Howbeit the victims burned not, and the flames died
out, as though 'neath heavy-hissing rain; and writhed the smoke-wreaths
blood-red, and the thighs quivering from crumbling altars fell to earth.
Drink-offerings turned to blood, Gods' statues wept, and temple-walls
dripped gore: along them rolled echoes of groaning out of depths unseen;
and all the long walls shuddered: from the towers came quick sharp
sounds like cries of men in pain; and, weirdly shrieking, of themselves slid
back the gate-bolts. Screaming "Desolation!" wailed the birds of night.
Above that God-built burg a mist palled every star; and yet no cloud was
in the flashing heavens. By Phoebus' fane withered the bays that erst were
lush and green. Wolves and foul-feeding jackals came and howled within
the gates. Ay, other signs untold appeared, portending woe to Dardanus'
sons and Troy: yet no fear touched the Trojans' hearts who saw all
through the town those portents dire: Fate crazed them all, that midst
their revelling slain by their foes they might fill up their doom.
[565] One heart was steadfast, and one soul clear-eyed, Cassandra. Never
her words were unfulfilled; yet was their utter truth, by Fate's decree, ever
as idle wind in the hearers' ears, that no bar to Troy's ruin might be set.
She saw those evil portents all through Troy conspiring to one end; loud
rang her cry, as roars a lioness that mid the brakes a hunter has stabbed or
shot, whereat her heart maddens, and down the long hills rolls her roar,
and her might waxes tenfold; so with heart aflame with prophecy came
213
she forth her bower. Over her snowy shoulders tossed her hair streaming
far down, and wildly blazed her eyes. Her neck writhed, like a sapling in
the wind shaken, as moaned and shrieked that noble maid: "O wretches!
into the Land of Darkness now we are passing; for all round us full of fire
and blood and dismal moan the city is. Everywhere portents of calamity
Gods show: destruction yawns before your feet. Fools! ye know not your
doom: still ye rejoice with one consent in madness, who to Troy have
brought the Argive Horse where ruin lurks! Oh, ye believe not me, though
ne'er so loud I cry! The Erinyes and the ruthless Fates, for Helen's
spousals madly wroth, through Troy dart on wild wings. And ye, ye are
banqueting there in your last feast, on meats befouled with gore, when
now your feet are on the Path of Ghosts!"
[595] Then cried a scoffing voice an ominous word: "Why doth a raving
tongue of evil speech, daughter of Priam, make thy lips to cry words
empty as wind? No maiden modesty with purity veils thee: thou art
compassed round with ruinous madness; therefore all men scorn thee,
babbler! Hence, thine evil bodings speak to the Argives and thyself! For
thee doth wait anguish and shame yet bitterer than befell presumptuous
Laocoon. Shame it were in folly to destroy the Immortals' gift."
[606] So scoffed a Trojan: others in like sort cried shame on her, and said
she spake but lies, saying that ruin and Fate's heavy stroke were hard at
hand. They knew not their own doom, and mocked, and thrust her back
from that huge Horse for fain she was to smite its beams apart, or burn
with ravening fire. She snatched a brand of blazing pine-wood from the
hearth and ran in fury: in the other hand she bare a two-edged halberd: on
that Horse of Doom she rushed, to cause the Trojans to behold with their
own eyes the ambush hidden there. But straightway from her hands they
plucked and flung afar the fire and steel, and careless turned to the feast;
for darkened o'er them their last night. Within the horse the Argives joyed
to hear the uproar of Troy's feasters setting at naught Cassandra, but they
marvelled that she knew so well the Achaeans' purpose and device.
[625] As mid the hills a furious pantheress, which from the steading
hounds and shepherd-folk drive with fierce rush, with savage heart turns
back even in departing, galled albeit by darts: so from the great Horse fled
she, anguish-racked for Troy, for all the ruin she foreknew.
214
Argonautica
Apollonius of Rhodes
TRANS. BY R.C. SEATON
- BOOK I -
B
eginning with thee, O Phoebus, I will recount the famous
deeds of men of old, who, at the behest of King Pelias,
down through the mouth of Pontus and between the
Cyanean rocks, sped well-benched Argo in quest of the golden
fleece.
[5] Such was the oracle that Pelias heard, that a hateful doom
awaited him to be slain at the prompting of the man whom he
should see coming forth from the people with but one sandal. And
no long time after, in accordance with that true report, Jason
crossed the stream of wintry Anaurus on foot, and saved one sandal
from the mire, but the other he left in the depths held back by the
flood. And straightway he came to Pelias to share the banquet
which the king was offering to his father Poseidon and the rest of
the gods, though he paid no honour to Pelasgian Hera. Quickly the
king saw him and pondered, and devised for him the toil of a
troublous voyage, in order that on the sea or among strangers he
might lose his home-return.
[18] The ship, as former bards relate, Argus wrought by the
guidance of Athena. But now I will tell the lineage and the names of
the heroes, and of the long sea-paths and the deeds they wrought in
their wanderings; may the Muses be the inspirers of my song!
[23] First then let us name Orpheus whom once Calliope bare, it is
said, wedded to Thracian Oeagrus, near the Pimpleian height. Men
say that he by the music of his songs charmed the stubborn rocks
upon the mountains and the course of rivers. And the wild oaktrees to this day, tokens of that magic strain, that grow at Zone on
the Thracian shore, stand in ordered ranks close together, the same
which under the charm of his lyre he led down from Pieria. Such
then was Orpheus whom Aeson's son welcomed to share his toils,
in obedience to the behest of Cheiron, Orpheus ruler of Bistonian
Pieria.
[35] Straightway came Asterion, whom Cometes begat by the waters
of eddying Apidanus; he dwelt at Peiresiae near the Phylleian
mount, where mighty Apidanus and bright Enipeus join their
streams, coming together from afar.
[40] Next to them from Larisa came Polyphemus, son of Eilatus,
who aforetime among the mighty Lapithae, when they were arming
themselves against the Centaurs, fought in his younger days; now
his limbs were grown heavy with age, but his martial spirit still
remained, even as of old.
[45] Nor was Iphiclus long left behind in Phylace, the uncle of
Aeson's son; for Aeson had wedded his sister Alcimede, daughter of
Phylacus: his kinship with her bade him be numbered in the host.
[49] Nor did Admetus, the lord of Pherae rich in sheep, stay behind
beneath the peak of the Chalcodonian mount.
[51] Nor at Alope stayed the sons of Hermes, rich in corn-land, well
skilled in craftiness, Erytus and Echion, and with them on their
departure their kinsman Aethalides went as the third; him near the
216
APOLLONIUS: ARGONAUTICA
streams of Amphrysus Eupolemeia bare, the daughter of
Myrmidon, from Phthia; the two others were sprung from
Antianeira, daughter of Menetes.
[57] From rich Gyrton came Coronus, son of Caeneus, brave, but
not braver than his father. For bards relate that Caeneus though still
living perished at the hands of the Centaurs, when apart from other
chiefs he routed them; and they, rallying against him, could neither
bend nor slay him; but unconquered and unflinching he passed
beneath the earth, overwhelmed by the downrush of massy pines.
[65] There came too Titaresian Mopsus, whom above all men the
son of Leto taught the augury of birds; and Eurydamas the son of
Ctimenus; he dwelt at Dolopian Ctimene near the Xynian lake.
[69] Moreover Actor sent his son Menoetius from Opus that he
might accompany the chiefs.
[71] Eurytion followed and strong Eribotes, one the son of Teleon,
the other of Irus, Actor's son; the son of Teleon renowned
Eribotes, and of Irus Eurytion. A third with them was Oileus,
peerless in courage and well skilled to attack the flying foe, when
they break their ranks.
[77] Now from Euboea came Canthus eager for the quest, whom
Canethus son of Abas sent; but he was not destined to return to
Cerinthus. For fate had ordained that he and Mopsus, skilled in the
seer's art, should wander and perish in the furthest ends of Libya.
For no ill is too remote for mortals to incur, seeing that they buried
them in Libya, as far from the Colchians as is the space that is seen
between the setting and the rising of the sun.
[86] To him Clytius and Iphitus joined themselves, the warders of
Oechalia, sons of Eurytus the ruthless, Eurytus, to whom the Far217
shooting god gave his bow; but he had no joy of the gift; for of his
own choice he strove even with the giver.
[90] After them came the sons of Aeacus, not both together, nor
from the same spot; for they settled far from Aegina in exile, when
in their folly they had slain their brother Phoeus. Telamon dwelt in
the Attic island; but Peleus departed and made his home in Phthia.
[95] After them from Cecropia came warlike Butes, son of brave
Teleon, and Phalerus of the ashen spear. Alcon his father sent him
forth; yet no other sons had he to care for his old age and
livelihood. But him, his well-beloved and only son, he sent forth
that amid bold heroes he might shine conspicuous. But Theseus,
who surpassed all the sons of Erechtheus, an unseen bond kept
beneath the land of Taenarus, for he had followed that path with
Peirithous; assuredly both would have lightened for all the
fulfilment of their toil.
[105] Tiphys, son of Hagnias, left the Siphaean people of the
Thespians, well skilled to foretell the rising wave on the broad sea,
and well skilled to infer from sun and star the stormy winds and the
time for sailing. Tritonian Athena herself urged him to join the
band of chiefs, and he came among them a welcome comrade. She
herself too fashioned the swift ship; and with her Argus, son of
Arestor, wrought it by her counsels. Wherefore it proved the most
excellent of all ships that have made trial of the sea with oars.
[115] After them came Phlias from Araethyrea, where he dwelt in
affluence by the favour of his father Dionysus, in his home by the
springs of Asopus.
[118] From Argos came Talaus and Areius, sons of Bias, and mighty
Leodocus, all of whom Pero daughter of Neleus bare; on her
account the Aeolid Melampus endured sore affliction in the
steading of Iphiclus.
218
[122] Nor do we learn that Heracles of the mighty heart disregarded
the eager summons of Aeson's son. But when he heard a report of
the heroes' gathering and had reached Lyrceian Argos from Arcadia
by the road along which he carried the boar alive that fed in the
thickets of Lampeia, near the vast Erymanthian swamp, the boar
bound with chains he put down from his huge shoulders at the
entrance to the market-place of Mycenae; and himself of his own
will set out against the purpose of Eurystheus; and with him went
Hylas, a brave comrade, in the flower of youth, to bear his arrows
and to guard his bow.
[133] Next to him came a scion of the race of divine Danaus,
Nauplius. He was the son of Clytonaeus son of Naubolus;
Naubolus was son of Lernus; Lernus we know was the son of
Proetus son of Nauplius; and once Amymone daughter of Danaus,
wedded to Poseidon, bare Nauplius, who surpassed all men in naval
skill.
[139] Idmon came last of all them that dwelt at Argos, for though
he had learnt his own fate by augury, he came, that the people
might not grudge him fair renown. He was not in truth the son of
Abas, but Leto's son himself begat him to be numbered among the
illustrious Aeolids; and himself taught him the art of prophecy -- to
pay heed to birds and to observe the signs of the burning sacrifice.
[146] Moreover Aetolian Leda sent from Sparta strong Polydeuces
and Castor, skilled to guide swift-footed steeds; these her dearlyloved sons she bare at one birth in the house of Tyndareus; nor did
she forbid their departure; for she had thoughts worthy of the bride
of Zeus.
[151] The sons of Aphareus, Lynceus and proud Idas, came from
Arene, both exulting in their great strength; and Lynceus too
219
excelled in keenest sight, if the report is true that that hero could
easily direct his sight even beneath the earth.
[156] And with them Neleian Periclymenus set out to come, eldest
of all the sons of godlike Neleus who were born at Pylos; Poseidon
had given him boundless strength and granted him that whatever
shape he should crave during the fight, that he should take in the
stress of battle.
[161] Moreover from Arcadia came Amphidamas and Cepheus,
who inhabited Tegea and the allotment of Apheidas, two sons of
Aldus; and Ancaeus followed them as the third, whom his father
Lycurgus sent, the brother older than both. But he was left in the
city to care for Aleus now growing old, while he gave his son to join
his brothers. Antaeus went clad in the skin of a Maenalian bear, and
wielding in his right hand a huge two-edged battleaxe. For his
armour his grandsire had hidden in the house's innermost recess, to
see if he might by some means still stay his departure.
[172] There came also Augeias, whom fame declared to be the son
of Helios; he reigned over the Eleans, glorying in his wealth; and
greatly he desired to behold the Colchian land and Aeetes himself
the ruler of the Colchians.
[176] Asterius and Amphion, sons of Hyperasius, came from
Achaean Pellene, which once Pelles their grandsire founded on the
brows of Aegialus.
[179] After them from Taenarus came Euphemus whom, most
swift-footed of men, Europe, daughter of mighty Tityos, bare to
Poseidon. He was wont to skim the swell of the grey sea, and
wetted not his swift feet, but just dipping the tips of his toes was
borne on the watery path.
220
[185] Yea, and two other sons of Poseidon came; one Erginus, who
left the citadel of glorious Miletus, the other proud Ancaeus, who
left Parthenia, the seat of Imbrasion Hera; both boasted their skill
in seacraft and in war.
[190] After them from Calydon came the son of Oeneus, strong
Meleagrus, and Laocoon -- Laocoon the brother of Oeneus, though
not by the same mother, for a serving-woman bare him; him, now
growing old, Oeneus sent to guard his son: thus Meleagrus, still a
youth, entered the bold band of heroes. No other had come
superior to him, I ween, except Heracles, if for one year more he
had tarried and been nurtured among the Aetolians. Yea, and his
uncle, well skilled to fight whether with the javelin or hand to hand,
Iphiclus son of Thestius, bare him company on his way.
[202] With him came Palaemonius, son of Olenian Lernus, of
Lernus by repute, but his birth was from Hephaestus; and so he was
crippled in his feet, but his bodily frame and his valour no one
would dare to scorn. Wherefore he was numbered among all the
chiefs, winning fame for Jason.
[207] From the Phocians came Iphitus sprung from Naubolus son
of Ornytus; once he had been his host when Jason went to Pytho to
ask for a response concerning his voyage; for there he welcomed
him in his own hails.
[221] Next came Zetes and Calais, sons of Boreas, whom once
Oreithyia, daughter of Erechtheus, bare to Boreas on the verge of
wintry Thrace; thither it was that Thracian Boreas snatched her
away from Cecropia as she was whirling in the dance, hard by
Hissus' stream. And, carrying her far off, to the spot that men called
the rock of Sarpedon, near the river Erginus, he wrapped her in
dark clouds and forced her to his will. There they were making their
dusky wings quiver upon their ankles on both sides as they rose, a
great wonder to behold, wings that gleamed with golden scales: and
221
round their backs from the top of the head and neck, hither and
thither, their dark tresses were being shaken by the wind.
[224] No, nor had Acastus son of mighty Pelias himself any will to
stay behind in the palace of his brave sire, nor Argus, helper of the
goddess Athena; but they too were ready to be numbered in the
host.
[228] So many then were the helpers who assembled to join the son
of Aeson. All the chiefs the dwellers thereabout called Minyae, for
the most and the bravest avowed that they were sprung from the
blood of the daughters of Minyas; thus Jason himself was the son of
Alcimede who was born of Clymene the daughter of Minyas.
[234] Now when all things had been made ready by the thralls, all
things that fully-equipped ships are furnished withal when men's
business leads them to voyage across the sea, then the heroes took
their way through the city to the ship where it lay on the strand that
men call Magnesian Pagasae; and a crowd of people hastening
rushed together; but the heroes shone like gleaming stars among the
clouds; and each man as he saw them speeding along with their
armour would say: "King Zeus, what is the purpose of Pelias?
Whither is he driving forth from the Panachaean land so great a
host of heroes? On one day they would waste the palace of Aeetes
with baleful fire, should he not yield them the fleece of his own
goodwill. But the path is not to be shunned, the toil is hard for
those who venture."
[247] Thus they spake here and there throughout the city; but the
women often raised their hands to the sky in prayer to the
immortals to grant a return, their hearts' desire. And one with tears
thus lamented to her fellow: "Wretched Alcimede, evil has come to
thee at last though late, thou hast not ended with splendour of life.
Aeson too, ill-fated man! Surely better had it been for him, if he
were lying beneath the earth, enveloped in his shroud, still
unconscious of bitter toils. Would that the dark wave, when the
maiden Helle perished, had overwhelmed Phrixus too with the ram;
222
but the dire portent even sent forth a human voice, that it might
cause to Alcimede sorrows and countless pains hereafter."
[261] Thus the women spake at the departure of the heroes. And
now many thralls, men and women, were gathered together, and his
mother, smitten with grief for Jason. And a bitter pang seized every
woman's heart; and with them groaned the father in baleful old age,
lying on his bed, closely wrapped round. But the hero straightway
soothed their pain, encouraging them, and bade the thralls take up
his weapons for war; and they in silence with downcast looks took
them up. And even as the mother had thrown her arms about her
son, so she clung, weeping without stint, as a maiden all alone
weeps, falling fondly on the neck of her hoary nurse, a maid who
has now no others to care for her, but she drags on a weary life
under a stepmother, who maltreats her continually with ever fresh
insults, and as she weeps, her heart within her is bound fast with
misery, nor can she sob forth all the groans that struggle for
utterance; so without stint wept Alcimede straining her son in her
arms, and in her yearning grief spake as follows: "Would that on
that day when, wretched woman that I am, I heard King Pelias
proclaim his evil behest, I had straightway given up my life and
forgotten my cares, so that thou thyself, my son, with thine own
hands, mightest have buried me; for that was the only wish left me
still to be fulfilled by time, all the other rewards for thy nurture have
I long enjoyed. Now I, once so admired among Achaean women,
shall be left behind like a bondwoman in my empty halls, pining
away, ill-fated one, for love of thee, thee on whose account I had
aforetime so much splendour and renown, my only son for whom I
loosed my virgin zone first and last. For to me beyond others the
goddess Eileithyia grudged abundant offspring. Alas for my folly!
Not once, not even in nay dreams did I forebode this, that the flight
of Phrixus would bring me woe."
[292] Thus with moaning she wept, and her handmaidens, standing
by, lamented; but Jason spake gently to her with comforting words:
"Do not, I pray thee, mother, store up bitter sorrows overmuch, for
thou wilt not redeem me from evil by tears, but wilt still add grief to
223
grief. For unseen are the woes that the gods mete out to mortals; be
strong to endure thy share of them though with grief in thy heart;
take courage from the promises of Athena, and from the answers of
the gods (for very favourable oracles has Phoebus given), and then
from the help of the chieftains. But do thou remain here, quiet
among thy handmaids, and be not a bird of ill omen to the ship;
and thither my clansmen and thralls will follow me."
[306] He spake, and started forth to leave the house. And as Apollo
goes forth from some fragrant shrine to divine Delos or Claros or
Pytho or to broad Lyeia near the stream of Xanthus, in such beauty
moved Jason through the throng of people; and a cry arose as they
shouted together. And there met him aged Iphias, priestess of
Artemis guardian of the city, and kissed his right hand, but she had
not strength to say a word, for all her eagerness, as the crowd
rushed on, but she was left there by the wayside, as the old are left
by the young, and he passed on and was gone afar.
[317] Now when he had left the well-built streets of the city, he
came to the beach of Pagasae, where his comrades greeted him as
they stayed together near the ship Argo. And he stood at the
entering in, and they were gathered to meet him. And they
perceived Aeastus and Argus coming from the city, and they
marvelled when they saw them hasting with all speed, despite the
will of Pelias. The one, Argus, son of Arestor, had cast round his
shoulders the hide of a bull reaching to his feet, with the black hair
upon it, the other, a fair mantle of double fold, which his sister
Pelopeia had given him. Still Jason forebore from asking them
about each point but bade all be seated for an assembly. And there,
upon the folded sails and the mast as it lay on the ground, they all
took their seats in order. And among them with goodwill spake
Aeson's son: "All the equipment that a ship needs for all is in due
order -- lies ready for our departure. Therefore we will make no
long delay in our sailing for these things' sake, when the breezes but
blow fair. But, friends, -- for common to all is our return to Hellas
hereafter, and common to all is our path to the land of Aeetes -now therefore with ungrudging heart choose the bravest to be our
224
leader, who shall be careful for everything, to take upon him our
quarrels and covenants with strangers."
[341] Thus he spake; and the young heroes turned their eyes
towards bold Heracles sitting in their midst, and with one shout
they all enjoined upon him to be their leader; but he, from the place
where he sat, stretched forth his right hand and said: "Let no one
offer this honour to me. For I will not consent, and I will forbid
any other to stand up. Let the hero who brought us together,
himself be the leader of the host."
[348] Thus he spake with high thoughts, and they assented, as
Heracles bade; and warlike Jason himself rose up, glad at heart, and
thus addressed the eager throng: "If ye entrust your glory to my
care, no longer as before let our path be hindered. Now at last let us
propitiate Phoebus with sacrifice and straightway prepare a feast.
And until my thralls come, the overseers of my steading, whose care
it is to choose out oxen from the herd and drive them hither, we
will drag down the ship to the sea, and do ye place all the tackling
within, and draw lots for the benches for rowing. Meantime let us
build upon the beach an altar to Apollo Embasius who by an oracle
promised to point out and show me the paths of the sea, if by
sacrifice to him I should begin my venture for King Pelias."
[363] He spake, and was the first to turn to the work, and they
stood up in obedience to him; and they heaped their garments, one
upon the other, on a smooth stone, which the sea did not strike
with its waves, but the stormy surge had cleansed it long before.
First of all, by the command of Argus, they strongly girded the ship
with a rope well twisted within, stretching it tight on each side, in
order that the planks might be well compacted by the bolts and
might withstand the opposing force of the surge. And they quickly
dug a trench as wide as the space the ship covered, and at the prow
as far into the sea as it would run when drawn down by their hands.
And they ever dug deeper in front of the stem, and in the furrow
laid polished rollers; and inclined the ship down upon the first
225
rollers, that so she might glide and be borne on by them. And
above, on both sides, reversing the oars, they fastened them round
the thole- pins, so as to project a cubit's space. And the heroes
themselves stood on both sides at the oars in a row, and pushed
forward with chest and hand at once. And then Tiphys leapt on
board to urge the youths to push at the right moment; and calling
on them he shouted loudly; and they at once, leaning with all their
strength, with one push started the ship from her place, and
strained with their feet, forcing her onward; and Pelian Argo
followed swiftly; and they on each side shouted as they rushed on.
And then the rollers groaned under the sturdy keel as they were
chafed, and round them rose up a dark smoke owing to the weight,
and she glided into the sea; but the heroes stood there and kept
dragging her back as she sped onward. And round the thole-pins
they fitted the oars, and in the ship they placed the mast and the
well-made sails and the stores.
[394] Now when they had carefully paid heed to everything, first
they distributed the benches by lot, two men occupying one seat;
but the middle bench they chose for Heracles and Ancaeus apart
from the other heroes, Ancaeus who dwelt in Tegea. For them
alone they left the middle bench just as it was and not by lot; and
with one consent they entrusted Tiphys with guarding the helm of
the well-stemmed ship.
[402] Next, piling up shingle near the sea, they raised there an altar
on the shore to Apollo, under the name of Actius and Embasius,
and quickly spread above it logs of dried olive-wood. Meantime the
herdsmen of Aeson's son had driven before them from the herd
two steers. These the younger comrades dragged near the altars, and
the others brought lustral water and barley meal, and Jason prayed,
calling on Apollo the god of his fathers: "Hear, O King, that
dwellest in Pagasae and the city Aesonis, the city called by my
father's name, thou who didst promise me, when I sought thy
oracle at Pytho, to show the fulfilment and goal of my journey, for
thou thyself hast been the cause of my venture; now do thou thyself
guide the ship with my comrades safe and sound, thither and back
again to Hellas. Then in thy honour hereafter we will lay again on
226
thy altar the bright offerings of bulls -- all of us who return; and
other gifts in countless numbers I will bring to Pytho and Ortygia.
And now, come, Far-darter, accept this sacrifice at our hands,
which first of all we have offered thee for this ship on our
embarcation; and grant, O King, that with a prosperous weird I may
loose the hawsers, relying on thy counsel, and may the breeze blow
softly with which we shall sail over the sea in fair weather."
[425] He spake, and with his prayer cast the barley meal. And they
two girded themselves to slay the steers, proud Ancaeus and
Heracles. The latter with his club smote one steer mid-head on the
brow, and falling in a heap on the spot, it sank to the ground; and
Ancaeus struck the broad neck of the other with his axe of bronze,
and shore through the mighty sinews; and it fell prone on both its
horns. Their comrades quickly severed the victims' throats, and
flayed the hides: they sundered the joints and carved the flesh, then
cut out the sacred thigh bones, and covering them all together
closely with fat burnt them upon cloven wood. And Aeson's son
poured out pure libations, and Idmon rejoiced beholding the flame
as it gleamed on every side from the sacrifice, and the smoke of it
mounting up with good omen in dark spiral columns; and quickly
he spake outright the will of Leto's son: "For you it is the will of
heaven and destiny that ye shall return here with the fleece; but
meanwhile both going and returning, countless trials await you. But
it is my lot, by the hateful decree of a god, to die somewhere afar
off on the mainland of Asia. Thus, though I learnt my fate from evil
omens even before now, I have left my fatherland to embark on the
ship, that so after my embarking fair fame may be left me in my
house."
[448] Thus he spake; and the youths hearing the divine utterance
rejoiced at their return, but grief seized them for the fate of Idmon.
Now at the hour when the sun passes his noon-tide halt and the
ploughlands are just being shadowed by the rocks, as the sun slopes
towards the evening dusk, at that hour all the heroes spread leaves
thickly upon the sand and lay down in rows in front of the hoary
surf-line; and near them were spread vast stores of viands and sweet
227
wine, which the cupbearers had drawn off in pitchers; afterwards
they told tales one to another in turn, such as youths often tell when
at the feast and the bowl they take delightful pastime, and insatiable
insolence is far away. But here the son of Aeson, all helpless, was
brooding over each event in his mind, like one oppressed with
thought. And Idas noted him and assailed him with loud voice:
"Son of Aeson, what is this plan thou art turning over in mind.
Speak out thy thought in the midst. Does fear come on and master
thee, fear, that confounds cowards? Be witness now my impetuous
spear, wherewith in wars I win renown beyond all others (nor does
Zeus aid me so much as my own spear), that no woe will be fatal,
no venture will be unachieved, while Idas follows, even though a
god should oppose thee. Such a helpmeet am I that thou bringest
from Arene."
[472] He spake, and holding a brimming goblet in both hands drank
off the unmixed sweet wine; and his lips and dark cheeks were
drenched with it; and all the heroes clamoured together and Idmon
spoke out openly: "Vain wretch, thou art devising destruction for
thyself before the time. Does the pure wine cause thy bold heart to
swell in thy breast to thy ruin, and has it set thee on to dishonour
the gods? Other words of comfort there are with which a man
might encourage his comrade; but thou hast spoken with utter
recklessness. Such taunts, the tale goes, did the sons of Aloeus once
blurt out against the blessed gods, and thou dost no wise equal
them in valour; nevertheless they were both slain by the swift
arrows of Leto's son, mighty though they were."
[485] Thus he spake, and Aphareian Iclas laughed out, loud and
long, and eyeing him askance replied with biting words: "Come
now, tell me this by thy prophetic art, whether for me too the gods
will bring to pass such doom as thy father promised for the sons of
Aloeus. And bethink thee how thou wilt escape from my hands
alive, if thou art caught making a prophecy vain as the idle wind."
[492] Thus in wrath Idas reviled him, and the strife would have
gone further had not their comrades and Aeson's son himself with
228
indignant cry restrained the contending chiefs; and Orpheus lifted
his lyre in his left hand and made essay to sing.
[496] He sang how the earth, the heaven and the sea, once mingled
together in one form, after deadly strife were separated each from
other; and how the stars and the moon and the paths of the sun
ever keep their fixed place in the sky; and how the mountains rose,
and how the resounding rivers with their nymphs came into being
and all creeping things. And he sang how first of all Ophion and
Eurynome, daughter of Ocean, held the sway of snowy Olympus,
and how through strength of arm one yielded his prerogative to
Cronos and the other to Rhea, and how they fell into the waves of
Ocean; but the other two meanwhile ruled over the blessed Titangods, while Zeus, still a child and with the thoughts of a child, dwelt
in the Dictaean cave; and the earthborn Cyclopes had not yet armed
him with the bolt, with thunder and lightning; for these things give
renown to Zeus.
[512] He ended, and stayed his lyre and divine voice. But though he
had ceased they still bent forward with eagerness all hushed to
quiet, with ears intent on the enchanting strain; such a charm of
song had he left behind in their hearts. Not long after they mixed
libations in honour of Zeus, with pious rites as is customary, and
poured them upon the burning tongues, and bethought them of
sleep in the darkness.
[519] Now when gleaming dawn with bright eyes beheld the lofty
peaks of Pelion, and the calm headlands were being drenched as the
sea was ruffled by the winds, then Tiphys awoke from sleep; and at
once he roused his comrades to go on board and make ready the
oars. And a strange cry did the harbour of Pagasae utter, yea and
Pelian Argo herself, urging them to set forth. For in her a beam
divine had been laid which Athena had brought from an oak of
Dodona and fitted in the middle of the stem. And the heroes went
to the benches one after the other, as they had previously assigned
for each to row in his place, and took their seats in due order near
229
their fighting gear. In the middle sat Antaeus and mighty Heracles,
and near him he laid his club, and beneath his tread the ship's keel
sank deep. And now the hawsers were being slipped and they
poured wine on the sea. But Jason with tears held his eyes away
from his fatherland. And just as youths set up a dance in honour of
Phoebus either in Pytho or haply in Ortygia, or by the waters of
Ismenus, and to the sound of the lyre round his altar all together in
time beat the earth with swiftly-moving feet; so they to the sound of
Orpheus' lyre smote with their oars the rushing sea-water, and the
surge broke over the blades; and on this side and on that the dark
brine seethed with foam, boiling terribly through the might of the
sturdy heroes. And their arms shone in the sun like flame as the
ship sped on; and ever their wake gleamed white far behind, like a
path seen over a green plain. On that day all the gods looked down
from heaven upon the ship and the might of the heroes, halfdivine, the bravest of men then sailing the sea; and on the topmost
heights the nymphs of Pelion wondered as they beheld the work of
Itonian Athena, and the heroes themselves wielding the oars. And
there came down from the mountain-top to the sea Chiron, son of
Philyra, and where the white surf broke he dipped his feet, and,
often waving with his broad hand, cried out to them at their
departure, "Good speed and a sorrowless home- return!" And with
him his wife, bearing Peleus' son Achilles on her arm, showed the
child to his dear father.
[559] Now when they had left the curving shore of the harbour
through the cunning and counsel of prudent Tiphys son of Hagnias,
who skilfully handled the well-polished helm that he might guide
them steadfastly, then at length they set up the tall mast in the
mastbox, and secured it with forestays, drawing them taut on each
side, and from it they let down the sail when they had hauled it to
the top-mast. And a breeze came down piping shrilly; and upon the
deck they fastened the ropes separately round the well-polished
pins, and ran quietly past the long Tisaean headland. And for them
the son of Oeagrus touched his lyre and sang in rhythmical song of
Artemis, saviour of ships, child of a glorious sire, who hath in her
keeping those peaks by the sea, and the land of Iolcos; and the
fishes came darting through the deep sea, great mixed with small,
and followed gambolling along the watery paths. And as when in
230
the track of the shepherd, their master, countless sheep follow to
the fold that have fed to the full of grass, and he goes before gaily
piping a shepherd's strain on Iris shrill reed; so these fishes
followed; and a chasing breeze ever bore the ship onward.
[580] And straightway the misty land of the Pelasgians, rich in
cornfields, sank out of sight, and ever speeding onward they passed
the rugged sides of Pelion; and the Sepian headland sank away, and
Sciathus appeared in the sea, and far off appeared Piresiae and the
calm shore of Magnesia on the mainland and the tomb of Dolops;
here then in the evening, as the wind blew against them, they put to
land, and paying honour to him at nightfall burnt sheep as victims,
while the sea was tossed by the swell: and for two days they lingered
on the shore, but on the third day they put forth the ship, spreading
on high the broad sail. And even now men call that beach Aphetae
of Argo.
[592] Thence going forward they ran past Meliboea, escaping a
stormy beach and surf-line. And in the morning they saw Homole
close at hand leaning on the sea, and skirted it, and not long after
they were about to pass by the outfall of the river Amyrus. From
there they beheld Eurymenae and the seawashed ravines of Ossa
and Olympus; next they reached the slopes of Pallene, beyond the
headland of Canastra, running all night with the wind. And at dawn
before them as they journeyed rose Athos, the Thracian mountain,
which with its topmost peak overshadows Lemnos, even as far as
Myrine, though it lies as far off as the space that a well-trimmed
merchantship would traverse up to mid-day. For them on that day,
till darkness fell, the breeze blew exceedingly fresh, and the sails of
the ship strained to it. But with the setting of the sun the wind left
them, and it was by the oars that they reached Lemnos, the Sintian
isle.
[609] Here the whole of the men of the people together had been
ruthlessly slain through the transgressions of the women in the year
gone by. For the men had rejected their lawful wives, loathing them,
231
and had conceived a fierce passion for captive maids whom they
themselves brought across the sea from their forays in Thrace; for
the terrible wrath of Cypris came upon them, because for a long
time they had grudged her the honours due. O hapless women, and
insatiate in jealousy to their own ruin! Not their husbands alone
with the captives did they slay on account of the marriage-bed, but
all the males at the same time, that they might thereafter pay no
retribution for the grim murder. And of all the women, Hypsipyle
alone spared her aged father Thoas, who was king over the people;
and she sent him in a hollow chest, to drift over the sea, if haply he
should escape. And fishermen dragged him to shore at the island of
Oenoe, formerly Oenoe, but afterwards called Sicinus from Sicinus,
whom the water-nymph Oenoe bore to Thoas. Now for all the
women to tend kine, to don armour of bronze, and to cleave with
the plough-share the wheat-bearing fields, was easier than the works
of Athena, with which they were busied aforetime. Yet for all that
did they often gaze over the broad sea, in grievous fear against the
Thracians' coming. So when they saw Argo being rowed near the
island, straightway crowding in multitude from the gates of Myrine
and clad in their harness of war, they poured forth to the beach like
ravening Thyiades: for they deemed that the Thracians were come;
and with them Hypsipyle, daughter of Thoas, donned her father's
harness. And they streamed down speechless with dismay; such fear
was wafted about them.
[640] Meantime from the ship the chiefs had sent Aethalides the
swift herald, to whose care they entrusted their messages and the
wand of Hermes, his sire, who had granted him a memory of all
things, that never grew dim; and not even now, though he has
entered the unspeakable whirlpools of Acheron, has forgetfulness
swept over his soul, but its fixed doom is to be ever changing its
abode; at one time to be numbered among the dwellers beneath the
earth, at another to be in the light of the sun among living men. But
why need I tell at length tales of Aethalides? He at that time
persuaded Hypsipyle to receive the new-comers as the day was
waning into darkness; nor yet at dawn did they loose the ship's
hawsers to the breath of the north wind.
232
[653] Now the Lemnian women fared through the city and sat
down to the assembly, for Hypsipyle herself had so bidden. And
when they were all gathered together in one great throng
straightway she spake among them with stirring words: "O friends,
come let us grant these men gifts to their hearts' desire, such as it is
fitting that they should take on ship-board, food and sweet wine, in
order that they may steadfastly remain outside our towers, and may
not, passing among us for need's sake, get to know us all too well,
and so an evil report be widely spread; for we have wrought a
terrible deed and in nowise will it be to their liking, should they
learn it. Such is our counsel now, but if any of you can devise a
better plan let her rise, for it was on this account that I summoned
you hither."
[667] Thus she spake and sat upon her father's seat of stone, and
then rose up her dear nurse Polyxo, for very age halting upon her
withered feet, bowed over a staff, and she was eager to address
them. Near her were seated four virgins, unwedded, crowned with
white hair. And she stood in the midst of the assembly and from
her bent back she feebly raised her neck and spake thus: "Gifts, as
Hypsipyle herself wishes, let us send to the strangers, for it is better
to give them. But for you what device have ye to get profit of your
life if the Thracian host fall upon us, or some other foe, as often
happens among men, even as now this company is come
unforeseen? But if one of the blessed gods should turn this aside yet
countless other woes, worse than battle, remain behind, when the
aged women die off and ye younger ones, without children, reach
hateful old age. How then will ye live, hapless ones? Will your oxen
of their own accord yoke themselves for the deep plough-lands and
draw the earth-cleaving share through the fallow, and forthwith, as
the year comes round, reap the harvest? Assuredly, though the fates
till now have shunned me in horror, I deem that in the coming year
I shall put on the garment of earth, when I have received my meed
of burial even so as is right, before the evil days draw near. But I
bid you who are younger give good heed to this. For now at your
feet a way of escape lies open, if ye trust to the strangers the care of
your homes and all your stock and your glorious city."
233
[697] Thus she spake, and the assembly was filled with clamour. For
the word pleased them. And after her straightway Hypsipyle rose up
again, and thus spake in reply. "If this purpose please you all, now
will I even send a messenger to the ship."
[702] She spake and addressed Iphinoe close at hand: "Go, Iphinoe,
and beg yonder man, whoever it is that leads this array, to come to
our land that I may tell him a word that pleases the heart of my
people, and bid the men themselves, if they wish, boldly enter the
land and the city with friendly intent."
[708] She spake, and dismissed the assembly, and thereafter started
to return home. And so Iphinoe came to the Minyae; and they
asked with what intent she had come among them. And quickly she
addressed her questioners with all speed in these words: "The
maiden Hypsipyle daughter of Thoas, sent me on my way here to
you, to summon the captain of your ship, whoever he be, that she
may tell him a word that pleases the heart of the people, and she
bids yourselves, if ye wish it, straightway enter the land and the city
with friendly intent."
[717] Thus she spake and the speech of good omen pleased all. And
they deemed that Thoas was dead and that his beloved daughter
Hypsipyle was queen, and quickly they sent Jason on his way and
themselves made ready to go.
[721] Now he had buckled round his shoulders a purple mantle of
double fold, the work of the Tritonian goddess, which Pallas had
given him when she first laid the keel-props of the ship Argo and
taught him how to measure timbers with the rule. More easily
wouldst thou cast thy eyes upon the sun at its rising than behold
that blazing splendour. For indeed in the middle the fashion thereof
was red, but at the ends it was all purple, and on each margin many
separate devices had been skilfully inwoven.
234
[730] In it were the Cyclops seated at their imperishable work,
forging a thunderbolt for King Zeus; by now it was almost finished
in its brightness and still it wanted but one ray, which they were
beating out with their iron hammers as it spurted forth a breath of
raging flame.
[735] In it too were the twin sons of Antiope, daughter of Asopus,
Amphion and Zethus, and Thebe still ungirt with towers was lying
near, whose foundations they were just then laying in eager haste.
Zethus on his shoulders was lifting the peak of a steep mountain,
like a man toiling hard, and Amphion after him, singing loud and
clear on his golden lyre, moved on, and a rock twice as large
followed his footsteps.
[742] Next in order had been wrought Cytherea with drooping
tresses, wielding the swift shield of Ares; and from her shoulder to
her left arm the fastening of her tunic was loosed beneath her
breast; and opposite in the shield of bronze her image appeared
clear to view as she stood.
[747] And in it there was a well-wooded pasturage of oxen; and
about the oxen the Teleboae and the sons of Eleetryon were
fighting; the one party defending themselves, the others, the
Taphian raiders, longing to rob them; and the dewy meadow was
drenched with their blood, and the many were overmastering the
few herdsmen.
[752] And therein were fashioned two chariots, racing, and the one
in front Pelops was guiding, as he shook the reins, and with him
was Hippodameia at his side, and in pursuit Myrtilus urged his
steeds, and with him Oenomaus had grasped his couched spear, but
fell as the axle swerved and broke in the nave, while he was eager to
pierce the back of Pelops.
235
[759] And in it was wrought Phoebus Apollo, a stripling not yet
grown up, in the act of shooting at mighty Tityos who was boldly
dragging his mother by her veil, Tityos whom glorious Elate bare,
but Earth nursed him and gave him second birth.
[763] And in it was Phrixus the Minyan as though he were in very
deed listening to the ram, while it was like one speaking. Beholding
them thou wouldst be silent and wouldst cheat thy soul with the
hope of hearing some wise speech from them, and long wouldst
thou gaze with that hope.
[768] Such then were the gifts of the Tritonian goddess Athena.
And in his right hand Jason held a fardarting spear, which Atalanta
gave him once as a gift of hospitality in Maenalus as she met him
gladly; for she eagerly desired to follow on that quest; but he
himself of his own accord prevented the maid, for he feared bitter
strife on account of her love.
[774] And he went on his way to the city like to a bright star, which
maidens, pent up in new-built chambers, behold as it rises above
their homes, and through the dark air it charms their eyes with its
fair red gleam and the maid rejoices, love-sick for the youth who is
far away amid strangers, for whom her parents are keeping her to
be his bride; like to that star the hero trod the way to the city. And
when they had passed within the gates and the city, the women of
the people surged behind them, delighting in the stranger, but he
with his eyes fixed on the ground fared straight on, till he reached
the glorious palace of Hypsipyle; and when he appeared the maids
opened the folding doors, fitted with well-fashioned panels. Here
Iphinoe leading him quickly through a fair porch set him upon a
shining seat opposite her mistress, but Hypsipyle turned her eyes
aside and a blush covered her maiden cheeks, yet for all her
modesty she addressed him with crafty words: "Stranger, why stay
ye so long outside our towers? for the city is not inhabited by the
men, but they, as sojourners, plough the wheat-bearing fields of the
Thracian mainland. And I will tell out truly all our evil plight, that ye
yourselves too may know it well. When my father Thoas reigned
236
over the citizens, then our folk starting from their homes used to
plunder from their ships the dwellings of the Thracians who live
opposite, and they brought back hither measureless booty and
maidens too. But the counsel of the baneful goddess Cypris was
working out its accomplishment, who brought upon them soul
destroying infatuation. For they hated their lawful wives, and,
yielding to their own mad folly, drove them from their homes; and
they took to their beds the captives of their spear, cruel ones. Long
in truth we endured it, if haply again, though late, they might
change their purpose, but ever the bitter woe grew, twofold. And
the lawful children were being dishonoured in their halls, and a
bastard race was rising. And thus unmarried maidens and widowed
mothers too wandered uncared for through the city; no father
heeded his daughter ever so little even though he should see her
done to death before his eyes at the hands of an insolent step-dame,
nor did sons, as before, defend their mother against unseemly
outrage; nor did brothers care at heart for their sister. But in their
homes, in the dance, in the assembly and the banquet all their
thought was only for their captive maidens; until some god put
desperate courage in our hearts no more to receive our lords on
their return from Thrace within our towers so that they might either
heed the right or might depart and begone elsewhither, they and
their captives. So they begged of us all the male children that were
left in the city and went back to where even now they dwell on the
snowy tilths of Thrace. Do ye therefore stay and settle with us; and
shouldst thou desire to dwell here, and this finds favour with thee,
assuredly thou shalt have the prerogative of my father Thoas; and I
deem that thou wilt not scorn our land at all; for it is deepsoiled
beyond all other islands that lie in the Aegaean sea. But come now,
return to the ship and relate my words to thy comrades, and stay
not outside our city."
[834] She spoke, glozing over the murder that had been wrought
upon the men; and Jason addressed her in answer: "Hypsipyle, very
dear to our hearts is the help we shall meet with, which thou
grantest to us who need thee. And I will return again to the city
when I have told everything in order due. But let the sovereignty of
237
the island be thine; it is not in scorn I yield it up, but grievous trials
urge me on."
[842] He spake, and touched her right hand; and quickly he turned
to go back: and round him the young maids on every side danced in
countless numbers in their joy till he passed through the gates. And
then they came to the shore in smooth-running wains, bearing with
them many gifts, when now he had related from beginning to end
the speech which Hypsipyle had spoken when she summoned
them; and the maids readily led the men back to their homes for
entertainment. For Cypris stirred in them a sweet desire, for the
sake of Hephaestus of many counsels, in order that Lemnos might
be again inhabited by men and not be ruined.
[853] Thereupon Aeson's son started to go to the royal home of
Hypsipyle; and the rest went each his way as chance took them, all
but Heracles; for he of his own will was left behind by the ship and
a few chosen comrades with him. And straightway the city rejoiced
with dances and banquets, being filled with the steam of sacrifice;
and above all the immortals they propitiated with songs and
sacrifices the illustrious son of Hera and Cypris herself. And the
sailing was ever delayed from one day to another; and long would
they have lingered there, had not Heracles, gathering together his
comrades apart from the women, thus addressed them with
reproachful words:"Wretched men, does the murder of kindred
keep us from our native land? Or is it in want of marriage that we
have come hither from thence, in scorn of our countrywomen?
Does it please us to dwell here and plough the rich soil of Lemnos?
No fair renown shall we win by thus tarrying so long with stranger
women; nor will some god seize and give us at our prayer a fleece
that moves of itself. Let us then return each to his own; but him
leave ye to rest all day long in the embrace of Hypsipyle until he has
peopled Lemnos with men-children, and so there come to him great
glory."
[875] Thus did he chide the band; but no one dared to meet his eye
or to utter a word in answer. But just as they were in the assembly
238
they made ready their departure in all haste, and the women came
running towards them, when they knew their intent. And as when
bees hum round fair lilies pouring forth from their hive in the rock,
and all around the dewy meadow rejoices, and they gather the sweet
fruit, flitting from one to another; even so the women eagerly
poured forth clustering round the men with loud lament, and
greeted each one with hands and voice, praying the blessed gods to
grant him a safe return. And so Hypsipyle too prayed, seizing the
hands of Aeson's son, and her tears flowed for the loss of her lover:
"Go, and may heaven bring thee back again with thy comrades
unharmed, bearing to the king the golden fleece, even as thou wilt
and thy heart desireth; and this island and my father's sceptre will be
awaiting thee, if on thy return hereafter thou shouldst choose to
come hither again; and easily couldst thou gather a countless host of
men from other cities. But thou wilt not have this desire, nor do I
myself forbode that so it will be. Still remember Hypsipyle when
thou art far away and when thou hast returned; and leave me some
word of bidding, which I will gladly accomplish, if haply heaven
shall grant me to be a mother."
[899] And Aeson's son in admiration thus replied: "Hypsipyle, so
may all these things prove propitious by the favour of the blessed
gods. But do thou hold a nobler thought of me, since by the grace
of Pelias it is enough for me to dwell in my native land; may the
gods only release me from my toils. But if it is not my destiny to sail
afar and return to the land of Hellas, and if thou shouldst bear a
male child, send him when grown up to Pelasgian Iolcus, to heal the
grief of my father and mother if so be that he find them still living,
in order that, far away from the king, they may be cared for by their
own hearth in their home."
[910] He spake, and mounted the ship first of all; and so the rest of
the chiefs followed, and, sitting in order, seized the oars; and Argus
loosed for them the hawsers from under the sea-beaten rock.
Whereupon they mightily smote the water with their long oars, and
in the evening by the injunctions of Orpheus they touched at the
island of Electra, daughter of Atlas, in order that by gentle initiation
239
they might learn the rites that may not be uttered, and so with
greater safety sail over the chilling sea. Of these I will make no
further mention; but I bid farewell to the island itself and the
indwelling deities, to whom belong those mysteries, which it is not
lawful for me to sing.
[922] Thence did they row with eagerness over the depths of the
black Sea, having on the one side the land of the Thracians, on the
other Imbros on the south; and as the sun was just setting they
reached the foreland of the Chersonesus. There a strong south wind
blew for them; and raising the sails to the breeze they entered the
swift stream of the maiden daughter of Athamas; and at dawn the
sea to the north was left behind and at night they were coasting
inside the Rhoeteian shore, with the land of Ida on their right. And
leaving Dardania they directed their course to Abydus, and after it
they sailed past Percote and the sandy beach of Abarnis and divine
Pityeia. And in that night, as the ship sped on by sail and oar, they
passed right through the Hellespont dark-gleaming with eddies.
[936] There is a lofty island inside the Propontis, a short distance
from the Phrygian mainland with its rich cornfields, sloping to the
sea, where an isthmus in front of the mainland is flooded by the
waves, so low does it lie. And the isthmus has double shores, and
they lie beyond the river Aesepus, and the inhabitants round about
call the island the Mount of Bears. And insolent and fierce men
dwell there, Earthborn, a great marvel to the neighbours to behold;
for each one has six mighty hands to lift up, two from his sturdy
shoulders, and four below, fitting close to his terrible sides. And
about the isthmus and the plain the Doliones had their dwelling,
and over them Cyzicus son of Aeneus was king, whom Aenete the
daughter of goodly Eusorus bare. But these men the Earthborn
monsters, fearful though they were, in nowise harried, owing to the
protection of Poseidon; for from him had the Doliones first sprung.
Thither Argo pressed on, driven by the winds of Thrace, and the
Fair haven received her as she sped. There they cast away their
small anchorstone by the advice of Tiphys and left it beneath a
fountain, the fountain of Artaeie; and they took another meet for
their purpose, a heavy one; but the first, according to the oracle of
240
the Far-Darter, the Ionians, sons of Neleus, in after days laid to be a
sacred stone, as was right, in the temple of Jasonian Athena.
[961] Now the Doliones and Cyzicus himself all came together to
meet them with friendliness, and when they knew of the quest and
their lineage welcomed them with hospitality, and persuaded them
to row further and to fasten their ship's hawsers at the city harbour.
Here they built an altar to Ecbasian Apollo and set it up on the
beach, and gave heed to sacrifices. And the king of his own bounty
gave them sweet wine and sheep in their need; for he had heard a
report that whenever a godlike band of heroes should come,
straightway he should meet it with gentle words and should have no
thought of war. As with Jason, the soft down was just blooming on
his chin, nor yet had it been his lot to rejoice in children, but still in
his palace his wife was untouched by the pangs of child-birth, the
daughter of Percosian Merops, fair-haired Cleite, whom lately by
priceless gifts he had brought from her father's home from the
mainland opposite. But even so he left his chamber and bridal bed
and prepared a banquet among the strangers, casting all fears from
his heart. And they questioned one another in turn. Of them would
he learn the end of their voyage and the injunctions of Pelias; while
they enquired about the cities of the people round and all the gulf
of the wide Propontis; but further he could not tell them for all
their desire to learn. In the morning they climbed mighty
Dindymum that they might themselves behold the various paths of
that sea; and they brought their ship from its former anchorage to
the harbour, Chytus; and the path they trod is named the path of
Jason.
[989] But the Earthborn men on the other side rushed down from
the mountain and with crags below blocked up the mouth of vast
Chytus towards the sea, like men lying in wait for a wild beast
within. But there Heracles had been left behind with the younger
heroes and he quickly bent his back-springing bow against the
monsters and brought them to earth one after another; and they in
their turn raised huge ragged rocks and hurled them. For these
dread monsters too, I ween, the goddess Hera, bride of Zeus, had
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nurtured to be a trial for Heracles. And therewithal came the rest of
the martial heroes returning to meet the foe before they reached the
height of outlook, and they fell to the slaughter of the Earthborn,
receiving them with arrows and spears until they slew them all as
they rushed fiercely to battle. And as when woodcutters cast in rows
upon the beach long trees just hewn down by their axes, in order
that, once sodden with brine, they may receive the strong bolts; so
these monsters at the entrance of the foam-fringed harbour lay
stretched one after another, some in heaps bending their heads and
breasts into the salt waves with their limbs spread out above on the
land; others again were resting their heads on the sand of the shore
and their feet in the deep water, both alike a prey to birds and fishes
at once.
[1012] But the heroes, when the contest was ended without fear,
loosed the ship's hawsers to the breath of the wind and pressed on
through the sea-swell. And the ship sped on under sail all day; but
when night came the rushing wind did not hold steadfast, but
contrary blasts caught them and held them back till they again
approached the hospitable Doliones. And they stepped ashore that
same night; and the rock is still called the Sacred Rock round which
they threw the ship's hawsers in their haste. Nor did anyone note
with care that it was the same island; nor in the night did the
Doliones clearly perceive that the heroes were returning; but they
deemed that Pelasgian war-men of the Macrians had landed.
Therefore they donned their armour and raised their hands against
them. And with clashing of ashen spears and shields they fell on
each other, like the swift rush of fire which falls on dry brushwood
and rears its crest; and the din of battle, terrible and furious, fell
upon the people of the Doliones. Nor was the king to escape his
fate and return home from battle to his bridal chamber and bed.
But Aeson's son leapt upon him as he turned to face him, and
smote him in the middle of the breast, and the bone was shattered
round the spear; he rolled forward in the sand and filled up the
measure of his fate. For that no mortal may escape; but on every
side a wide snare encompasses us. And so, when he thought that he
had escaped bitter death from the chiefs, fate entangled him that
very night in her toils while battling with them; and many
champions withal were slain; Heracles killed Telecles and
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Megabrontes, and Acastus slew Sphodris; and Peleus slew Zelus
and Gephyrus swift in war. Telamon of the strong spear slew
Basileus. And Idas slew Promeus, and Clytius Hyacinthus, and the
two sons of Tyndareus slew Megalossaces and Phlogius. And after
them the son of Oeneus slew bold Itomeneus, and Artaceus, leader
of men; all of whom the inhabitants still honour with the worship
due to heroes. And the rest gave way and fled in terror just as doves
fly in terror before swift-winged hawks. And with a din they rustled
in a body to the gates; and quickly the city was filled with loud cries
at the turning of the dolorous fight. But at dawn both sides
perceived the fatal and cureless error; and bitter grief seized the
Minyan heroes when they saw before them Cyzicus son of Aeneus
fallen in the midst of dust and blood. And for three whole days they
lamented and rent their hair, they and the Dollones. Then three
times round his tomb they paced in armour of bronze and
performed funeral rites and celebrated games, as was meet, upon
the meadow-plain, where even now rises the mound of his grave to
be seen by men of a later day. No, nor was his bride Cleite left
behind her dead husband, but to crown the ill she wrought an ill yet
more awful, when she clasped a noose round her neck. Her death
even the nymphs of the grove bewailed; and of all the tears for her
that they shed to earth from their eyes the goddesses made a
fountain, which they call Cleite, the illustrious name of the hapless
maid. Most terrible came that day from Zeus upon the Doliones,
women and men; for no one of them dared even to taste food, nor
for a long time by reason of grief did they take thought for the toil
of the cornmill, but they dragged on their lives eating their food as
it was, untouched by fire. Here even now, when the Ionians that
dwell in Cyzicus pour their yearly libations for the dead, they ever
grind the meal for the sacrificial cakes at the common mill.
[1079] After this, fierce tempests arose for twelve days and nights
together and kept them there from sailing. But in the next night the
rest of the chieftains, overcome by sleep, were resting during the
latest period of the night, while Acastus and Mopsus the son of
Ampyeus kept guard over their deep slumbers. And above the
golden head of Aeson's son there hovered a halcyon prophesying
with shrill voice the ceasing of the stormy winds; and Mopsus heard
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and understood the cry of the bird of the shore, fraught with good
omen. And some god made it turn aside, and flying aloft it settled
upon the stern-ornament of the ship. And the seer touched Jason as
he lay wrapped in soft sheepskins and woke him at once, and thus
spake: "Son of Aeson, thou must climb to this temple on rugged
Dindymum and propitiate the mother of all the blessed gods on her
fair throne, and the stormy blasts shall cease. For such was the
voice I heard but now from the halcyon, bird of the sea, which, as it
flew above thee in thy slumber, told me all. For by her power the
winds and the sea and all the earth below and the snowy seat of
Olympus are complete; and to her, when from the mountains she
ascends the mighty heaven, Zeus himself, the son of Cronos, gives
place. In like manner the rest of the immortal blessed ones
reverence the dread goddess."
[1103] Thus he spake, and his words were welcome to Jason's ear.
And he arose from his bed with joy and woke all his comrades
hurriedly and told them the prophecy of Mopsus the son of
Ampycus. And quickly the younger men drove oxen from their
stalls and began to lead them to the mountain's lofty summit. And
they loosed the hawsers from the sacred rock and rowed to the
Thracian harbour; and the heroes climbed the mountain, leaving a
few of their comrades in the ship. And to them the Macrian heights
and all the coast of Thrace opposite appeared to view close at hand.
And there appeared the misty mouth of Bosporus and the Mysian
hills; and on the other side the stream of the river Aesepus and the
city and Nepeian plain of Adrasteia. Now there was a sturdy stump
of vine that grew in the forest, a tree exceeding old; this they cut
down, to be the sacred image of the mountain goddess; and Argus
smoothed it skilfully, and they set it upon that rugged hill beneath a
canopy of lofty oaks, which of all trees have their roots deepest.
And near it they heaped an altar of small stones, and wreathed their
brows with oak leaves and paid heed to sacrifice, invoking the
mother of Dindymum, most venerable, dweller in Phrygia, and
Titias and Cyllenus, who alone of many are called dispensers of
doom and assessors of the Idaean mother, -- the Idaean Dactyls of
Crete, whom once the nymph Anchiale, as she grasped with both
hands the land of Oaxus, bare in the Dictaean cave. And with many
prayers did Aeson's son beseech the goddess to turn aside the
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stormy blasts as he poured libations on the blazing sacrifice; and at
the same time by command of Orpheus the youths trod a measure
dancing in full armour, and clashed with their swords on their
shields, so that the ill-omened cry might be lost in the air the wail
which the people were still sending up in grief for their king. Hence
from that time forward the Phrygians propitiate Rhea with the
wheel and the drum. And the gracious goddess, I ween, inclined her
heart to pious sacrifices; and favourable signs appeared. The trees
shed abundant fruit, and round their feet the earth of its own
accord put forth flowers from the tender grass. And the beasts of
the wild wood left their lairs and thickets and came up fawning on
them with their tails. And she caused yet another marvel; for
hitherto there was no flow of water on Dindymum, but then for
them an unceasing stream gushed forth from the thirsty peak just as
it was, and the dwellers around in after times called that stream, the
spring of Jason. And then they made a feast in honour of the
goddess on the Mount of Bears, singing the praises of Rhea most
venerable; but at dawn the winds had ceased and they rowed away
from the island.
[1153] Thereupon a spirit of contention stirred each chieftain, who
should be the last to leave his oar. For all around the windless air
smoothed the swirling waves and lulled the sea to rest. And they,
trusting in the calm, mightily drove the ship forward; and as she
sped through the salt sea, not even the storm-footed steeds of
Poseidon would have overtaken her. Nevertheless when the sea was
stirred by violent blasts which were just rising from the rivers about
evening, forspent with toil, they ceased. But Heracles by the might
of his arms pulled the weary rowers along all together, and made
the strong-knit timbers of the ship to quiver. But when, eager to
reach the Mysian mainland, they passed along in sight of the mouth
of Rhyndaeus and the great cairn of Aegaeon, a little way from
Phrygia, then Heracles, as he ploughed up the furrows of the
roughened surge, broke his oar in the middle. And one half he held
in both his hands as he fell sideways, the other the sea swept away
with its receding wave. And he sat up in silence glaring round; for
his hands were unaccustomed to he idle.
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[1172] Now at the hour when from the field some delver or
ploughman goes gladly home to his hut, longing for his evening
meal, and there on the threshold, all squalid with dust, bows his
wearied knees, and, beholding his hands worn with toil, with many
a curse reviles his belly; at that hour the heroes reached the homes
of the Cianian land near the Arganthonian mount and the outfall of
Cius. Them as they came in friendliness, the Mysians, inhabitants of
that land, hospitably welcomed, and gave them in their need
provisions and sheep and abundant wine. Hereupon some brought
dried wood, others from the meadows leaves for beds which they
gathered in abundance for strewing, whilst others were twirling
sticks to get fire; others again were mixing wine in the bowl and
making ready the feast, after sacrificing at nightfall to Apollo
Ecbasius.
[1187] But the son of Zeus having duly enjoined on his comrades to
prepare the feast took his way into a wood, that he might first
fashion for himself an oar to fit his hand. Wandering about he
found a pine not burdened with many branches, nor too full of
leaves, but like to the shaft of a tall poplar; so great was it both in
length and thickness to look at. And quickly he laid on the ground
his arrow-holding quiver together with his bow, and took off his
lion's skin. And he loosened the pine from the ground with his
bronze-tipped club and grasped the trunk with both hands at the
bottom, relying on his strength; and he pressed it against his broad
shoulder with legs wide apart; and clinging close he raised it from
the ground deep-rooted though it was, together with clods of earth.
And as when unexpectedly, just at the time of the stormy setting of
baleful Orion, a swift gust of wind strikes down from above, and
wrenches a ship's mast from its stays, wedges and all; so did
Heracles lift the pine. And at the same time he took up his bow and
arrows, his lion skin and club, and started on his return.
[1207] Meantime Hylas with pitcher of bronze in hand had gone
apart from the throng, seeking the sacred flow of a fountain, that he
might be quick in drawing water for the evening meal and actively
make all things ready in due order against his lord's return. For in
such ways did Heracles nurture him from his first childhood when
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he had carried him off from the house of his father, goodly
Theiodamas, whom the hero pitilessly slew among the Dryopians
because he withstood him about an ox for the plough. Theiodamas
was cleaving with his plough the soil of fallow land when he was
smitten with the curse; and Heracles bade him give up the
ploughing ox against his will. For he desired to find some pretext
for war against the Dryopians for their bane, since they dwelt there
reckless of right. But these tales would lead me far astray from my
song. And quickly Hylas came to the spring which the people who
dwell thereabouts call Pegae. And the dances of the nymphs were
just now being held there; for it was the care of all the nymphs that
haunted that lovely headland ever to hymn Artemis in songs by
night. All who held the mountain peaks or glens, all they were
ranged far off guarding the woods; but one, a water-nymph was just
rising from the fair-flowing spring; and the boy she perceived close
at hand with the rosy flush of his beauty and sweet grace. For the
full moon beaming from the sky smote him. And Cypris made her
heart faint, and in her confusion she could scarcely gather her spirit
back to her. But as soon as he dipped the pitcher in the stream,
leaning to one side, and the brimming water rang loud as it poured
against the sounding bronze, straightway she laid her left arm above
upon his neck yearning to kiss his tender mouth; and with her right
hand she drew down his elbow, and plunged him into the midst of
the eddy.
[1240] Alone of his comrades the hero Polyphemus, son of Eilatus,
as he went forward on the path, heard the boy's cry, for he expected
the return of mighty Heracles. And he rushed after the cry, near
Pegae, like some beast of the wild wood whom the bleating of
sheep has reached from afar, and burning with hunger he follows,
but does not fall in with the flocks; for the shepherds beforehand
have penned them in the fold, but he groans and roars vehemently
until he is weary. Thus vehemently at that time did the son of
Eilatus groan and wandered shouting round the spot; and his voice
rang piteous. Then quickly drawing his great sword he started in
pursuit, in fear lest the boy should be the prey of wild beasts, or
men should have lain in ambush for him faring all alone, and be
carrying him off, an easy prey. Hereupon as he brandished his bare
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sword in his hand he met Heracles himself on the path, and well he
knew him as he hastened to the ship through the darkness. And
straightway he told the wretched calamity while his heart laboured
with his panting breath. "My poor friend, I shall be the first to bring
thee tidings of bitter woe. Hylas has gone to the well and has not
returned safe, but robbers have attacked and are carrying him off,
or beasts are tearing him to pieces; I heard his cry."
[1261] Thus he spake; and when Heracles heard his words, sweat in
abundance poured down from his temples and the black blood
boiled beneath his heart. And in wrath he hurled the pine to the
ground and hurried along the path whither his feet bore on his
impetuous soul. And as when a bull stung by a gadfly tears along,
leaving the meadows and the marsh land, and recks not of
herdsmen or herd, but presses on, now without cheek, now
standing still, and raising his broad neck he bellows loudly, stung by
the maddening fly; so he in his frenzy now would ply his swift
knees unresting, now again would cease from toil and shout afar
with loud pealing cry.
[1273] But straightway the morning star rose above the topmost
peaks and the breeze swept down; and quickly did Tiphys urge
them to go aboard and avail themselves of the wind. And they
embarked eagerly forthwith; and they drew up the ship's anchors
and hauled the ropes astern. And the sails were bellied out by the
wind, and far from the coast were they joyfully borne past the
Posideian headland. But at the hour when gladsome dawn shines
from heaven, rising from the east, and the paths stand out clearly,
and the dewy plains shine with a bright gleam, then at length they
were aware that unwittingly they had abandoned those men. And a
fierce quarrel fell upon them, and violent tumult, for that they had
sailed and left behind the bravest of their comrades. And Aeson's
son, bewildered by their hapless plight, said never a word, good or
bad; but sat with his heavy load of grief, eating out his heart. And
wrath seized Telamon, and thus he spake: "Sit there at thy ease, for
it was fitting for thee to leave Heracles behind; from thee the
project arose, so that his glory throughout Hellas should not
overshadow thee, if so be that heaven grants us a return home. But
248
what pleasure is there in words? For I will go, I only, with none of
thy comrades, who have helped thee to plan this treachery."
[1296] He spake, and rushed upon Tiphys son of Hagnias; and his
eyes sparkled like flashes of ravening flame. And they would quickly
have turned back to the land of the Mysians, forcing their way
through the deep sea and the unceasing blasts of the wind, had not
the two sons of Thracian Boreas held back the son of Aeacus with
harsh words. Hapless ones, assuredly a bitter vengeance came upon
them thereafter at the hands of Heracles, because they stayed the
search for him. For when they were returning from the games over
Pelias dead he slew them in sea-girt Tenos and heaped the earth
round them, and placed two columns above, one of which, a great
marvel for men to see, moves at the breath of the blustering north
wind. These things were thus to be accomplished in after times. But
to them appeared Glaucus from the depths of the sea, the wise
interpreter of divine Nereus, and raising aloft his shaggy head and
chest from his waist below, with sturdy hand he seized the ship's
keel, and then cried to the eager crew: "Why against the counsel of
mighty Zeus do ye purpose to lead bold Heracles to the city of
Aeetes? At Argos it is his fate to labour for insolent Eurystheus and
to accomplish full twelve toils and dwell with the immortals, if so
be that he bring to fulfilment a few more yet; wherefore let there be
no vain regret for him. Likewise it is destined for Polyphemus to
found a glorious city at the mouth of Cius among the Mysians and
to fill up the measure of his fate in the vast land of the Chalybes.
But a goddess-nymph through love has made Hylas her husband,
on whose account those two wandered and were left behind."
[1326] He spake, and with a plunge wrapped him about with the
restless wave; and round him the dark water foamed in seething
eddies and dashed against the hollow ship as it moved through the
sea. And the heroes rejoiced, and Telamon son of Aeacus came in
haste to Jason, and grasping his hand in his own embraced him with
these words: "Son of Aeson, be not wroth with me, if in my folly I
have erred, for grief wrought upon me to utter a word arrogant and
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intolerable. But let me give my fault to the winds and let our hearts
be joined as before."
[1336] Him the son of Aeson with prudence addressed: "Good
friend, assuredly with an evil word didst thou revile me, saying
before them all that I was the wronger of a kindly man. But not for
long will I nurse bitter wrath, though indeed before I was grieved.
For it was not for flocks of sheep, no, nor for possessions that thou
wast angered to fury, but for a man, thy comrade. And I were fain
thou wouldst even champion me against another man if a like thing
should ever befall me."
[1344] He spake, and they sat down, united as of old. But of those
two, by the counsel of Zeus, one, Polyphemus son of Eilatus, was
destined to found and build a city among the Mysians bearing the
river's name, and the other, Heracles, to return and toil at the
labours of Eurystheus. And he threatened to lay waste the Mysian
land at once, should they not discover for him the doom of Hylas,
whether living or dead. And for him they gave pledges choosing out
the noblest sons of the people and took an oath that they would
never cease from their labour of search. Therefore to this day the
people of Cius enquire for Hylas the son of Theiodamas, and take
thought for the well-built Trachis. For there did Heracles settle the
youths whom they sent from Cius as pledges.
[1358] And all day long and all night the wind bore the ship on,
blowing fresh and strong; but when dawn rose there was not even a
breath of air. And they marked a beach jutting forth from a bend of
the coast, very broad to behold, and by dint of rowing came to land
at sunrise.
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- BOOK II -
H
ere were the oxstalls and farm of Amycus, the haughty king of
the Bebrycians, whom once a nymph, Bithynian Melie, united to
Poseidon Genethlius, bare the most arrogant of men; for even
for strangers he laid down an insulting ordinance, that none should depart
till they had made trial of him in boxing; and he had slain many of the
neighbours. And at that time too he went down to the ship and in his
insolence scorned to ask them the occasion of their voyage, and who they
were, but at once spake out among them all: "Listen, ye wanderers by sea,
to what it befits you to know. It is the rule that no stranger who comes to
the Bebrycians should depart till he has raised his hands in battle against
mine. Wherefore select your bravest warrior from the host and set him
here on the spot to contend with me in boxing. But if ye pay no heed and
trample my decrees under foot, assuredly to your sorrow will stern
necessity come upon you.
[19] Thus he spake in his pride, but fierce anger seized them when they
heard it, and the challenge smote Polydeuces most of all. And quickly he
stood forth his comrades' champion, and cried: "Hold now, and display
not to us thy brutal violence, whoever thou art; for we will obey thy rules,
as thou sayest. Willingly now do I myself undertake to meet thee."
[25] Thus he spake outright; but the other with rolling eyes glared on him,
like to a lion struck by a javelin when hunters in the mountains are
hemming him round, and, though pressed by the throng, he reeks no
more of them, but keeps his eyes fixed, singling out that man only who
struck him first and slew him not. Hereupon the son of Tyndareus laid
aside his mantle, closely-woven, delicately-wrought, which one of the
Lemnian maidens had given him as a pledge of hospitality; and the king
threw down his dark cloak of double fold with its clasps and the knotted
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crook of mountain olive which he carried. Then straightway they looked
and chose close by a spot that pleased them and bade their comrades sit
upon the sand in two lines; nor were they alike to behold in form or in
stature. The one seemed to be a monstrous son of baleful Typhoeus or of
Earth herself, such as she brought forth aforetime, in her wrath against
Zeus; but the other, the son of Tyndareus, was like a star of heaven,
whose beams are fairest as it shines through the nightly sky at eventide.
Such was the son of Zeus, the bloom of the first down still on his cheeks,
still with the look of gladness in his eyes. But his might and fury waxed
like a wild beast's; and he poised his hands to see if they were pliant as
before and were not altogether numbed by toil and rowing. But Amycus
on his side made no trial; but standing apart in silence he kept his eyes
upon his foe, and his spirit surged within him all eager to dash the lifeblood from his breast. And between them Lyeoreus, the henchman of
Amycus, placed at their feet on each side two pairs of gauntlets made of
raw hide, dry, exceeding tough. And the king addressed the hero with
arrogant words: "Whichever of these thou wilt, without casting lots, I
grant thee freely, that thou mayst not blame me hereafter. Bind them
about thy hands; thou shalt learn and tell another how skilled I am to
carve the dry oxhides and to spatter men's cheeks with blood."
[60] Thus he spake; but the other gave back no taunt in answer, but with a
light smile readily took up the gauntlets that lay at his feet; and to him
came Castor and mighty Talaus, son of Bias, and they quickly bound the
gauntlets about his hands, often bidding him be of good courage. And to
Amycus came Aretus and Ornytus, but little they knew, poor fools, that
they had bound them for the last time on their champion, a victim of evil
fate.
[67] Now when they stood apart and were ready with their gauntlets,
straightway in front of their faces they raised their heavy hands and
matched their might in deadly strife. Hereupon the Bebrycian king even as
a fierce wave of the sea rises in a crest against a swift ship, but she by the
skill of the crafty pilot just escapes the shock when the billow is eager to
break over the bulwark -- so he followed up the son of Tyndareus, trying
to daunt him, and gave him no respite. But the hero, ever unwounded, by
his skill baffled the rush of his foe, and he quickly noted the brutal play of
his fists to see where he was invincible in strength, and where inferior, and
stood unceasingly and returned blow for blow. And as when shipwrights
with their hammers smite ships' timbers to meet the sharp clamps, fixing
layer upon layer; and the blows resound one after another; so cheeks and
jaws crashed on both sides, and a huge clattering of teeth arose, nor did
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they cease ever from striking their blows until laboured gasping overcame
both. And standing a little apart they wiped from their foreheads sweat in
abundance, wearily panting for breath. Then back they rushed together
again, as two bulls fight in furious rivalry for a grazing heifer. Next
Amycus rising on tiptoe, like one who slays an ox, sprung to his full
height and swung his heavy hand down upon his rival; but the hero
swerved aside from the rush, turning his head, and just received the arm
on his shoulder; and coming near and slipping his knee past the king's,
with a rush he struck him above the ear, and broke the bones inside, and
the king in agony fell upon his knees; and the Minyan heroes shouted for
joy; and his life was poured forth all at once.
[98] Nor were the Bebrycians reckless of their king; but all together took
up rough clubs and spears and rushed straight on Polydeuces. But in front
of him stood his comrades, their keen swords drawn from the sheath.
First Castor struck upon the head a man as he rushed at him: and it was
cleft in twain and fell on each side upon his shoulders. And Polydeuces
slew huge Itymoneus and Mimas. The one, with a sudden leap, he smote
beneath the breast with his swift foot and threw him in the dust; and as
the other drew near he struck him with his right hand above the left
eyebrow, and tore away his eyelid and the eyeball was left bare. But
Oreides, insolent henchman of Amycus, wounded Talaus son of Bias in
the side, but did not slay him, but only grazing the skin the bronze sped
under his belt and touched not the flesh. Likewise Aretus with wellseasoned club smote Iphitus, the steadfast son of Eurytus, not yet
destined to an evil death; assuredly soon was he himself to be slain by the
sword of Clytius. Then Ancaeus, the dauntless son of Lycurgus, quickly
seized his huge axe, and in his left hand holding a bear's dark hide,
plunged into the midst of the Bebrycians with furious onset; and with him
charged the sons of Aeacus, and with them started warlike Jason. And as
when amid the folds grey wolves rush down on a winter's day and scare
countless sheep, unmarked by the keen-scented dogs and the shepherds
too, and they seek what first to attack and carry off; often glaring around,
but the sheep are just huddled together and trample on one another; so
the heroes grievously scared the arrogant Bebrycians. And as shepherds or
beekeepers smoke out a huge swarm of bees in a rock, and they
meanwhile, pent up in their hive, murmur with droning hum, till,
stupefied by the murky smoke, they fly forth far from the rock; so they
stayed steadfast no longer, but scattered themselves inland through
Bebrycia, proclaiming the death of Amycus; fools, not to perceive that
another woe all unforeseen was hard upon them. For at that hour their
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vineyards and villages were being ravaged by the hostile spear of Lycus
and the Mariandyni, now that their king was gone. For they were ever at
strife about the ironbearing land. And now the foe was destroying their
steadings and farms, and now the heroes from all sides were driving off
their countless sheep, and one spake among his fellows thus: "Bethink ye
what they would have done in their cowardice if haply some god had
brought Heracles hither. Assuredly, if he had been here, no trial would
there have been of fists, I ween, but when the king drew near to proclaim
his rules, the club would have made him forget his pride and the rules to
boot. Yea, we left him uncared for on the strand and we sailed oversea;
and full well each one of us shall know our baneful folly, now that he is
far away."
[154] Thus he spake, but all these things had been wrought by the
counsels of Zeus. Then they remained there through the night and tended
the hurts of the wounded men, and offered sacrifice to the immortals, and
made ready a mighty meal; and sleep fell upon no man beside the bowl
and the blazing sacrifice. They wreathed their fair brows with the bay that
grew by the shore, whereto their hawsers were bound, and chanted a song
to the lyre of Orpheus in sweet harmony; and the windless shore was
charmed by their song; and they celebrated the Therapnaean son of Zeus.
[164] But when the sun rising from far lands lighted up the dewy hills and
wakened the shepherds, then they loosed their hawsers from the stem of
the baytree and put on board all the spoil they had need to take; and with
a favouring wind they steered through the eddying Bosporus. Hereupon a
wave like a steep mountain rose aloft in front as though rushing upon
them, ever upheaved above the clouds; nor would you say that they could
escape grim death, for in its fury it hangs over the middle of the ship, like
a cloud, yet it sinks away into calm if it meets with a skilful helmsman. So
they by the steering-craft of Tiphys escaped, unhurt but sore dismayed.
And on the next day they fastened the hawsers to the coast opposite the
Bithynian land.
[178] There Phineus, son of Agenor, had his home by the sea, Phineus
who above all men endured most bitter woes because of the gift of
prophecy which Leto's son had granted him aforetime. And he reverenced
not a whit even Zeus himself, for he foretold unerringly to men his sacred
will. Wherefore Zeus sent upon him a lingering old age, and took from his
eyes the pleasant light, and suffered him not to have joy of the dainties
untold that the dwellers around ever brought to his house, when they
254
came to enquire the will of heaven. But on a sudden, swooping through
the clouds, the Harpies with their crooked beaks incessantly snatched the
food away from his mouth and hands. And at times not a morsel of food
was left, at others but a little, in order that he might live and be
tormented. And they poured forth over all a loathsome stench; and no
one dared not merely to carry food to his mouth but even to stand at a
distance; so foully reeked the remnants of the meal. But straightway when
he heard the voice and the tramp of the band he knew that they were the
men passing by, at whose coming Zeus' oracle had declared to him that he
should have joy of his food. And he rose from his couch, like a lifeless
dream, bowed over his staff, and crept to the door on his withered feet,
feeling the walls; and as he moved, his limbs trembled for weakness and
age; and his parched skin was caked with dirt, and naught but the skill
held his bones together. And he came forth from the hall with wearied
knees and sat on the threshold of the courtyard; and a dark stupor
covered him, and it seemed that the earth reeled round beneath his feet,
and he lay in a strengthless trance, speechless. But when they saw him
they gathered round and marvelled. And he at last drew laboured breath
from the depths of his chest and spoke among them with prophetic
utterance: "Listen, bravest of all the Hellenes, if it be truly ye, whom by a
king's ruthless command Jason is leading on the ship Argo in quest of the
fleece. It is ye truly. Even yet my soul by its divination knows everything.
Thanks I render to thee, O king, son of Leto, plunged in bitter affliction
though I be. I beseech you by Zeus the god of suppliants, the sternest foe
to sinful men, and for the sake of Phoebus and Hera herself, under whose
especial care ye have come hither, help me, save an ill-fated man from
misery, and depart not uncaring and leaving me thus as ye see. For not
only has the Fury set her foot on my eyes and I drag on to the end a
weary old age; but besides my other woes a woe hangs over me the
bitterest of all. The Harpies, swooping down from some unseen den of
destruction, ever snatch the food from my mouth. And I have no device
to aid me. But it were easier, when I long for a meal, to escape my own
thoughts than them, so swiftly do they fly through the air. But if haply
they do leave me a morsel of food it reeks of decay and the stench is
unendurable, nor could any mortal bear to draw near even for a moment,
no, not if his heart were wrought of adamant. But necessity, bitter and
insatiate, compels me to abide and abiding to put food in my cursed belly.
These pests, the oracle declares, the sons of Boreas shall restrain. And no
strangers are they that shall ward them off if indeed I am Phineus who
was once renowned among men for wealth and the gift of prophecy, and
if I am the son of my father Agenor; and, when I ruled among the
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Thracians, by my bridal gifts I brought home their sister Cleopatra to be
my wife."
[240] So spake Agenor's son; and deep sorrow seized each of the heroes,
and especially the two sons of Boreas. And brushing away a tear they
drew nigh, and Zetes spake as follows, taking in his own the hand of the
grief-worn sire: "Unhappy one, none other of men is more wretched than
thou, methinks. Why upon thee is laid the burden of so many sorrows?
Hast thou with baneful folly sinned against the gods through thy skill in
prophecy? For this are they greatly wroth with thee? Yet our spirit is
dismayed within us for all our desire to aid thee, if indeed the god has
granted this privilege to us two. For plain to discern to men of earth are
the reproofs of the immortals. And we will never check the Harpies when
they come, for all our desire, until thou hast sworn that for this we shall
not lose the favour of heaven."
[254] Thus he spake; and towards him the aged sire opened his sightless
eyes, and lifted them up and replied with these words: "Be silent, store not
up such thoughts in thy heart, my child. Let the son of Leto be my
witness, he who of his gracious will taught me the lore of prophecy, and
be witness the ill-starred doom which possesses me and this dark cloud
upon my eyes, and the gods of the underworld -- and may their curse be
upon me if I die perjured thus -- no wrath from heaven will fall upon you
two for your help to me."
[262] Then were those two eager to help him because of the oath. And
quickly the younger heroes prepared a feast for the aged man, a last prey
for the Harpies; and both stood near him, to smite with the sword those
pests when they swooped down. Scarcely had the aged man touched the
food when they forthwith, like bitter blasts or flashes of lightning,
suddenly darted from the clouds, and swooped down with a yell, fiercely
craving for food; and the heroes beheld them and shouted in the midst of
their onrush; but they at the cry devoured everything and sped away over
the sea after; and an intolerable stench remained. And behind them the
two sons of Boreas raising their swords rushed in pursuit. For Zeus
imparted to them tireless strength; but without Zeus they could not have
followed, for the Harpies used ever to outstrip the blasts of the west wind
when they came to Phineus and when they left him. And as when, upon
the mountain- side, hounds, cunning in the chase, run in the track of
horned goats or deer, and as they strain a little behind gnash their teeth
upon the edge of their jaws in vain; so Zetes and Calais rushing very near
256
just grazed the Harpies in vain with their finger-tips. And assuredly they
would have torn them to pieces, despite heaven's will, when they had
overtaken them far off at the Floating Islands, had not swift Iris seen
them and leapt down from the sky from heaven above, and cheeked them
with these words: "It is not lawful, O sons of Boreas, to strike with your
swords the Harpies, the hounds of mighty Zeus; but I myself will give you
a pledge, that hereafter they shall not draw near to Phineus."
[291] With these words she took an oath by the waters of Styx, which to
all the gods is most dread and most awful, that the Harpies would never
thereafter again approach the home of Phineus, son of Agenor, for so it
was fated. And the heroes yielding to the oath, turned back their flight to
the ship. And on account of this men call them the Islands of Turning
though aforetime they called them the Floating Islands. And the Harpies
and Iris parted. They entered their den in Minoan Crete; but she sped up
to Olympus, soaring aloft on her swift wings.
[301] Meanwhile the chiefs carefully cleansed the old man's squalid skin
and with due selection sacrificed sheep which they had borne away from
the spoil of Amycus. And when they had laid a huge supper in the hall,
they sat down and feasted, and with them feasted Phineus ravenously,
delighting his soul, as in a dream. And there, when they had taken their fill
of food and drink, they kept awake all night waiting for the sons of
Boreas. And the aged sire himself sat in the midst, near the hearth, telling
of the end of their voyage and the completion of their journey: "Listen
then. Not everything is it lawful for you to know clearly; but whatever is
heaven's will, I will not hide. I was infatuated aforetime, when in my folly
I declared the will of Zeus in order and to the end. For he himself wishes
to deliver to men the utterances of the prophetic art incomplete, in order
that they may still have some need to know the will of heaven.
[316] "First of all, after leaving me, ye will see the twin Cyanean rocks
where the two seas meet. No one, I ween, has won his escape between
them. For they are not firmly fixed with roots beneath, but constantly
clash against one another to one point, and above a huge mass of salt
water rises in a crest, boiling up, and loudly dashes upon the hard beach.
Wherefore now obey my counsel, if indeed with prudent mind and
reverencing the blessed gods ye pursue your way; and perish not foolishly
by a self-sought death, or rush on following the guidance of youth. First
entrust the attempt to a dove when ye have sent her forth from the ship.
257
And if she escapes safe with her wings between the rocks to the open sea,
then no more do ye refrain from the path, but grip your oars well in your
hands and cleave the sea's narrow strait, for the light of safety will be not
so much in prayer as in strength of hands. Wherefore let all else go and
labour boldly with might and main, but ere then implore the gods as ye
will, I forbid you not. But if she flies onward and perishes midway, then
do ye turn back; for it is better to yield to the immortals. For ye could not
escape an evil doom from the rocks, not even if Argo were of iron.
[341] "O hapless ones, dare not to transgress my divine warning, even
though ye think that I am thrice as much hated by the sons of heaven as I
am, and even more than thrice; dare not to sail further with your ship in
despite of the omen. And as these things will fall, so shall they fall. But if
ye shun the clashing rocks and come scatheless inside Pontus, straightway
keep the land of the Bithynians on your right and sail on, and beware of
the breakers, until ye round the swift river Rhebas and the black beach,
and reach the harbour of the Isle of Thynias. Thence ye must turn back a
little space through the sea and beach your ship on the land of the
Mariandyni lying opposite. Here is a downward path to the abode of
Hades, and the headland of Acherusia stretches aloft, and eddying
Acheron cleaves its way at the bottom, even through the headland, and
sends its waters forth from a huge ravine. And near it ye will sail past
many hills of the Paphlagonians, over whom at the first Eneteian Pelops
reigned, and of his blood they boast themselves to be.
[360] "Now there is a headland opposite Helice the Bear, steep on all
sides, and they call it Carambis, about whose crests the blasts of the north
wind are sundered. So high in the air does it rise turned towards the sea.
And when ye have rounded it broad Aegialus stretches before you; and at
the end of broad Aegialus, at a jutting point of coast, the waters of the
river Halys pour forth with a terrible roar; and after it his flowing near,
but smaller in stream, rolls into the sea with white eddies. Onward from
thence the bend of a huge and towering cape reaches out from the land,
next Thermodon at its mouth flows into a quiet bay at the Themiscyreian
headland, after wandering through a broad continent. And here is the
plain of Doeas, and near are the three cities of the Amazons, and after
them the Chalybes, most wretched of men, possess a soil rugged and
unyielding sons of toil, they busy themselves with working iron. And near
them dwell the Tibareni, rich in sheep, beyond the Genetaean headland of
Zeus, lord of hospitality. And bordering on it the Mossynoeci next in
order inhabit the well-wooded mainland and the parts beneath the
mountains, who have built in towers made from trees their wooden
258
homes and well-fitted chambers, which they call Mossynes, and the
people themselves take their name from them. After passing them ye
must beach your ship upon a smooth island, when ye have driven away
with all manner of skill the ravening birds, which in countless numbers
haunt the desert island. In it the Queens of the Amazons, Otrere and
Antiope, built a stone temple of Ares what time they went forth to war.
Now here an unspeakable help will come to you from the bitter sea;
wherefore with kindly intent I bid you stay. But what need is there that I
should sin yet again declaring everything to the end by my prophetic art?
And beyond the island and opposite mainland dwell the Philyres: and
above the Philyres are the Macrones, and after them the vast tribes of the
Becheiri. And next in order to them dwell the Sapeires, and the Byzeres
have the lands adjoining to them, and beyond them at last live the warlike
Colchians themselves. But speed on in your ship, till ye touch the inmost
bourne of the sea. And here at the Cytaean mainland and from the
Amarantine mountains far away and the Circaean plain, eddying Phasis
rolls his broad stream to the sea. Guide your ship to the mouth of that
river and ye shall behold the towers of Cytaean Aeetes and the shady
grove of Ares, where a dragon, a monster terrible to behold, ever glares
around, keeping watch over the fleece that is spread upon the top of an
oak; neither by day nor by night does sweet sleep subdue his restless
eyes."
[408] Thus he spake, and straightway fear seized them as they heard. And
for a long while they were struck with silence; till at last the hero, son of
Aeson, spake, sore dismayed at their evil plight: "O aged sire, now hast
thou come to the end of the toils of our sea-journeying and hast told us
the token, trusting to which we shall make our way to Pontus through the
hateful rocks; but whether, when we have escaped them, we shall have a
return back again to Hellas, this too would we gladly learn from thee.
What shall I do, how shall I go over again such a long path through the
sea, unskilled as I am, with unskilled comrades? And Colchian Aea lies at
the edge of Pontus and of the world."
[419] Thus he spake, and him the aged sire addressed in reply: "O son,
when once thou hast escaped through the deadly rocks, fear not; for a
deity will be the guide from Aea by another track; and to Aea there will be
guides enough. But, my friends, take thought of the artful aid of the
Cyprian goddess. For on her depends the glorious issue of your venture.
And further than this ask me not."
259
[426] Thus spake Agenor's son, and close at hand the twin sons of
Thracian Boreas came darting from the sky and set their swift feet upon
the threshold; and the heroes rose up from their seats when they saw
them present. And Zetes, still drawing hard breath after his toil, spake
among the eager listeners, telling them how far they had driven the
Harpies and how his prevented their slaying them, and how the goddess
of her grace gave them pledges, and how those others in fear plunged into
the vast cave of the Dictaean cliff. Then in the mansion all their comrades
were joyful at the tidings and so was Phineus himself. And quickly
Aeson's son, with good will exceeding, addressed him: "Assuredly there
was then, Phineus, some god who cared for thy bitter woe, and brought
us hither from afar, that the sons of Boreas might aid thee; and if too he
should bring sight to thine eyes, verily I should rejoice, methinks, as much
as if I were on my homeward way."
[443] Thus he spake, but Phineus replied to him with downcast look: "Son
of Aeson, that is past recall, nor is there any remedy hereafter, for blasted
are my sightless eyes. But instead of that, may the god grant me death at
once, and after death I shall take my share in perfect bliss."
[448] Then they two returned answering speech, each to other, and soon
in the midst of their converse early dawn appeared; and round Phineus
were gathered the neighbours who used to come thither aforetime day by
day and constantly bring a portion of their food. To all alike, however
poor he was that came, the aged man gave his oracles with good will, and
freed many from their woes by his prophetic art; wherefore they visited
and tended him. And with them came Paraebius, who was dearest to him,
and gladly did he perceive these strangers in the house. For long ere now
the seer himself had said that a band of chieftains, faring from Hellas to
the city of Aceres, would make fast their hawsers to the Thynian land, and
by Zeus' will would check tho approach of the Harpies. The rest the old
man pleased with words of wisdom and let them go; Paraebius only he
bade remain there with the chiefs; and straightway he sent him and bade
him bring back the choicest of his sheep.
[466] And when he had left the hall Phineus spake gently amid the throng
of oarsmen: "O my friends, not all men are arrogant, it seems, nor
unmindful of benefits. Even as this man, loyal as he is, came hither to
learn his fate. For when he laboured the most and toiled the most, then
260
the needs of life, ever growing more and more, would waste him, and day
after day ever dawned more wretched, nor was there any respite to his
toil. But he was paying the sad penalty of his father's sin. For he when
alone on the mountains, felling trees, once slighted the prayers of a
Hamadryad, who wept and sought to soften him with plaintive words, not
to cut down the stump of an oak tree coeval with herself, wherein for a
long time she had lived continually; but he in the arrogance of youth
recklessly cut it down. So to him the nymph thereafter made her death a
curse, to him and to his children. I indeed knew of the sin when he came;
and I bid him build an altar to the Thynian nymph, and offer on it an
atoning sacrifice, with prayer to escape his father's fate. Here, ever since
he escaped the god-sent doom, never has he forgotten or neglected me;
but sorely and against his will do I send him from my doors, so eager is he
to remain with me in my affliction."
[490] Thus spake Agenor's son; and his friend straightway came near
leading two sheep from the flock. And up rose Jason and up rose the sons
of Boreas at the bidding of the aged sire . And quickly they called upon
Apollo, lord of prophecy, and offered sacrifice upon the health as the day
was just sinking. And the younger comrades made ready a feast to their
hearts' desire. Thereupon having well feasted they turned themselves to
rest, some near the ship's hawsers, others in groups throughout the
mansion. And at dawn the Etesian winds blew strongly, which by the
command of Zeus blow over every land equally.
[500] Cyrene, the tale goes, once tended sheep along the marsh-meadow
of Peneus among men of old time; for dear to her were maidenhood and
a couch unstained. But, as she guarded her flock by the river, Apollo
carried her off far from Haemonia and placed her among the nymphs of
the land, who dwelt in Libya near the Myrtosian height. And here to
Phoebus she bore Aristaeus whom the Haemonians, rich in corn-land, call
"Hunter" and "Shepherd". Her, of his love, the god made a nymph there,
of long life and a huntress, and his son he brought while still an infant to
be nurtured in the cave of Cheiron. And to him when he grew to
manhood the Muses gave a bride, and taught him the arts of healing and
of prophecy; and they made him the keeper of their sheep, of all that
grazed on the Athamantian plain of Phthia and round steep Othrys and
the sacred stream of the river Apidanus. But when from heaven Sirius
scorched the Minoan Isles, and for long there was no respite for the
inhabitants, then by the injunction of the Far-Darter they summoned
Aristaeus to ward off the pestilence. And by his father's command he left
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Phthia and made his home in Ceos, and gathered together the Parrhasian
people who are of the lineage of Lycaon, and he built a great altar to Zeus
Icmaeus, and duly offered sacrifices upon the mountains to that star
Sirius, and to Zeus son of Cronos himself. And on this account it is that
Etesian winds from Zeus cool the land for forty days, and in Ceos even
now the priests offer sacrifices before the rising of the Dog-star.
[528] So the tale is told, but the chieftains stayed there by constraint, and
every day the Thynians, doing pleasure to Phineus, sent them gifts beyond
measure. And afterwards they raised an altar to the blessed twelve on the
sea-beach opposite and laid offerings thereon and then entered their swift
ship to row, nor did they forget to bear with them a trembling dove; but
Euphemus seized her and brought her all quivering with fear, and they
loosed the twin hawsers from the land.
[537] Nor did they start unmarked by Athena, but straightway swiftly she
set her feel on a light cloud, which would waft her on, mighty though she
was, and she swept on to the sea with friendly thoughts to the oarsmen.
And as when one roveth far from his native land, as we men often wander
with enduring heart, nor is any land too distant but all ways are clear to his
view, and he sees in mind his own home, and at once the way over sea
and land seems slain, and swiftly thinking, now this way, now that, he
strains with eager eyes; so swiftly the daughter of Zeus darted down and
set her foot on the cheerless shore of Thynia.
[549] Now when they reached the narrow strait of the winding passage,
hemmed in on both sides by rugged cliffs, while an eddying current from
below was washing against the ship as she moved on, they went forward
sorely in dread; and now the thud of the crashing rocks ceaselessly struck
their ears, and the sea-washed shores resounded, and then Euphemus
grasped the dove in his hand and started to mount the prow; and they, at
the bidding of Tiphys, son of Hagnias, rowed with good will to drive
Argo between the rocks, trusting to their strength. And as they rounded a
bend they saw the rocks opening for the last time of all. Their spirit
melted within them; and Euphemus sent forth the dove to dart forward in
flight; and they all together raised their heads to look; but she flew
between them, and the rocks again rushed together and crashed as they
met face to face. And the foam leapt up in a mass like a cloud; awful was
the thunder of the sea; and all round them the mighty welkin roared.
262
[568] The hollow caves beneath the rugged cliffs rumbled as the sea came
surging in; and the white foam of the dashing wave spurted high above
the cliff. Next the current whirled the ship round. And the rocks shore
away the end of the dove's tail- feathers; but away she flew unscathed.
And the rowers gave a loud cry; and Tiphys himself called to them to row
with might and main. For the rocks were again parting asunder. But as
they rowed they trembled, until the tide returning drove them back within
the rocks. Then most awful fear seized upon all; for over their head was
destruction without escape. And now to right and left broad Pontus was
seen, when suddenly a huge wave rose up before them, arched, like a
steep rock; and at the sight they bowed with bended heads. For it seemed
about to leap down upon the ship's whole length and to overwhelm them.
But Tiphys was quick to ease the ship as she laboured with the oars; and
in all its mass the wave rolled away beneath the keel, and at the stern it
raised Argo herself and drew her far away from the rocks; and high in air
was she borne. But Euphemus strode among all his comrades and cried to
them to bend to their oars with all their might; and they with a shout
smote the water. And as far as the ship yielded to the rowers, twice as far
did she leap back, and the oar, were bent like curved bows as the heroes
used their strength.
[593] Then a vaulted billow rushed upon them, and the ship like a cylinder
ran on the furious wave plunging through the hollow sea. And the
eddying current held her between the clashing rocks; and on each side
they shook and thundered; and the ship's timbers were held fast. Then
Athena with her left hand thrust back one mighty rock and with her right
pushed the ship through; and she, like a winged arrow, sped through the
air. Nevertheless the rocks, ceaselessly clashing, shore off as she passed
the extreme end of the stern-ornament. But Athena soared up to
Olympus, when they had escaped unscathed. And the rocks in one spot at
that moment were rooted fast for ever to each other, which thing had
been destined by the blessed gods, when a man in his ship should have
passed between them alive. And the heroes breathed again after their
chilling fear, beholding at the same time the sky and the expanse of sea
spreading far and wide. For they deemed that they were saved from
Hades; and Tiphys first of all began to speak: "It is my hope that we have
safely escaped this peril -- we, and the ship; and none other is the cause so
much as Athena, who breathed into Argo divine strength when Argus
knitted her together with bolts; and she may not be caught. Son of Aeson,
no longer fear thou so much the hest of thy king, since a god hath granted
263
us escape between the rocks; for Phineus, Agenor's son, said that our toils
hereafter would be lightly accomplished."
[619] He spake, and at once he sped the ship onward through the midst of
the sea past the Bithynian coast. But Jason with gentle words addressed
him in reply: "Tiphys, why dost thou comfort thus my grieving heart? I
have erred and am distraught in wretched and helpless ruin. For I ought,
when Pelias gave the command, to have straightway refused this quest to
his face, yea, though I were doomed to die pitilessly, torn limb from limb,
but now I am wrapped in excessive fear and cares unbearable, dreading to
sail through the chilling paths of the sea, and dreading when we shall set
foot on the mainland. For on every side are unkindly men. And ever when
day is done I pass a night of groans from the time when ye first gathered
together for my sake, while I take thought for all things; but thou talkest
at thine ease, eating only for thine own life; while for myself I am
dismayed not a whit; but I fear for this man and for that equally, and for
thee, and for my other comrades, if I shall not bring you back safe to the
land of Hellas."
[638] Thus he spake, making trial of the chiefs; but they shouted loud with
cheerful words. And his heart was warmed within him at their cry and
again he spake outright among them: "My friends, in your valour my
courage is quickened. Wherefore now, even though I should take my way
through the gulfs of Hades, no more shall I let fear seize upon me, since
ye are steadfast amid cruel terrors. But now that we have sailed out from
the striking rocks, I trow that never hereafter will there be another such
fearful thing, if indeed we go on our way following the counsel of
Phineus."
[648] Thus he spake, and straightway they ceased from such words and
gave unwearying labour to the oar; and quickly they passed by the swiftly
flowing river Rhebas and the peak of Colone, and soon thereafter the
black headland, and near it the mouth of the river Phyllis, where aforetime
Dipsaeus received in his home the son of Athamas, when with his ram he
was flying from the city of Orchomenus; and Dipsacus was the son of a
meadow- nymph, nor was insolence his delight, but contented by his
father's stream he dwelt with his mother, pasturing his flocks by the shore.
And quickly they sighted and sailed past his shrine and the broad banks of
the river and the plain, and deep-flowing Calpe, and all the windless night
and the day they bent to their tireless oars. And even as ploughing oxen
toil as they cleave the moist earth, and sweat streams in abundance from
264
flank and neck; and from beneath the yoke their eyes roll askance, while
the breath ever rushes from their mouths in hot gasps; and all day long
they toil, planting their hoofs deep in the ground; like them the heroes
kept dragging their oars through the sea.
[669] Now when divine light has not yet come nor is it utter darkness, but
a faint glimmer has spread over the night, the time when men wake and
call it twilight, at that hour they ran into the harbour of the desert island
Thynias and, spent by weary toil, mounted the shore. And to them the
son of Leto, as he passed from Lycia far away to the countless folk of the
Hyperboreans, appeared; and about his cheeks on both sides his golden
locks flowed in clusters as he moved; in his left hand he held a silver bow,
and on his back was slung a quiver hanging from his shoulders; and
beneath his feet all the island quaked, and the waves surged high on the
beach. Helpless amazement seized them as they looked; and no one dared
to gaze face to face into the fair eyes of the god. And they stood with
heads bowed to the ground; but he, far off, passed on to the sea through
the air; and at length Orpheus spake as follows, addressing the chiefs:
"Come, let us call this island the sacred isle of Apollo of the Dawn since
he has appeared to all, passing by at dawn; and we will offer such
sacrifices as we can, building an altar on the shore; and if hereafter he
shall grant us a safe return to the Haemonian land, then will we lay on his
altar the thighs of horned goats. And now I bid you propitiate him with
the steam of sacrifice and libations. Be gracious, O king, be gracious in thy
appearing."
[694] Thus he spake, and they straightway built up an altar with shingle;
and over the island they wandered, seeking if haply they could get a
glimpse of a fawn or a wild goat, that often seek their pasture in the deep
wood. And for them Leto's son provided a quarry; and with pious rites
they wrapped in fat the thigh bones of them all and burnt them on the
sacred altar, celebrating Apollo, Lord of Dawn. And round the burning
sacrifice they set up a broad dancing-ring, singing, "All hail fair god of
healing, Phoebus, all hail," and with them Oeagrus' goodly son began a
clear lay on his Bistonian lyre; how once beneath the rocky ridge of
Parnassus he slew with his bow the monster Delphyne, he, still young and
beardless, still rejoicing in his long tresses. Mayst thou be gracious! Ever,
O king, be thy locks unshorn, ever unravaged; for so is it right. And none
but Leto, daughter of Coeus, strokes them with her dear hands. And often
the Corycian nymphs, daughters of Pleistus, took up the cheering strain
crying "Healer"; hence arose this lovely refrain of the hymn to Phoebus.
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[714] Now when they had celebrated him with dance and song they took
an oath with holy libations, that they would ever help each other with
concord of heart, touching the sacrifice as they swore; and even now there
stands there a temple to gracious Concord, which the heroes themselves
reared, paying honour at that time to the glorious goddess.
[720] Now when the third morning came, with a fresh west wind they left
the lofty island. Next, on the opposite side they saw and passed the mouth
of the river Sangarius and the fertile land of the Mariandyni, and the
stream of Lycus and the Anthemoeisian lake; and beneath the breeze the
ropes and all the tackling quivered as they sped onward. During the night
the wind ceased and at dawn they gladly reached the haven of the
Acherusian headland. It rises aloft with steep cliffs, looking towards the
Bithynian sea; and beneath it smooth rocks, ever washed by the sea, stand
rooted firm; and round them the wave rolls and thunders loud, but above,
wide-spreading plane trees grow on the topmost point. And from it
towards the land a hollow glen slopes gradually away, where there is a
cave of Hades overarched by wood and rocks. From here an icy breath,
unceasingly issuing from the chill recess, ever forms a glistening rime
which melts again beneath the midday sun. And never does silence hold
that grim headland, but there is a continual murmur from the sounding
sea and the leaves that quiver in the winds from the cave. And here is the
outfall of the river Acheron which bursts its way through the headland
and falls into the Eastern sea, and a hollow ravine brings it down from
above. In after times the Nisaean Megarians named it Soonautes when
they were about to settle in the land of the Mariandyni. For indeed the
river saved them with their ships when they were caught in a violent
tempest. By this way the heroes took the ship through the Acherusian
headland and came to land over against it as the wind had just ceased.
[752] Not long had they come unmarked by Lycus, the lord of that land,
and the Mariandyni -- they, the slayers of Amycus, according to the report
which the people heard before; but for that very deed they even made a
league with the heroes. And Polydeuces himself they welcomed as a god,
flocking from every side, since for a long time had they been warring
against the arrogant Bebrycians. And so they went up all together into the
city, and all that day with friendly feelings made ready a feast within the
palace of Lycus and gladdened their souls with converse. Aeson's son told
him the lineage and name of each of his comrades and the behests of
Pelias, and how they were welcomed by the Lemnian women, and all that
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they did at Dolionian Cyzieus; and how they reached the Mysian land and
Cius, where, sore against their will, they left behind the hero Heracles, and
he told the saying of Glaucus, and how they slew the Bebrycians and
Amycus, and he told of the prophecies and affliction of Phineus, and how
they escaped the Cyanean rocks, and how they met with Leto's son at the
island. And as he told all, Lycus was charmed in soul with listening; and
he grieved for Heracles left behind, and spake as follows among them all:
[774] "O friends, what a man he was from whose help ye have fallen away,
as ye cleave your long path to Aeetes; for well do I know that I saw him
here in the halls of Dascylus my father, when he came hither on foot
through the land of Asia bringing the girdle of warlike Hippolyte; and me
he found with the down just growing on my cheeks. And here, when my
brother Priolas was slain by the Mysians -- my brother, whom ever since
the people lament with most piteous dirges -- he entered the lists with
Titias in boxing and slew him, mighty Titias, who surpassed all the youths
in beauty and strength; and he dashed his teeth to the ground. Together
with the Mysians he subdued beneath my father's sway the Phrygians also,
who inhabit the lands next to us, and he made his own the tribes of the
Bithynians and their land, as far as the mouth of Rhebas and the peak of
Colone; and besides them the Paphlagonians of Pelops yielded just as they
were, even all those round whom the dark water of Billaeus breaks. But
now the Bebrycians and the insolence of Amycus have robbed me, since
Heracles dwells far away, for they have long been cutting off huge pieces
of my land until they have set their bounds at the meadows of deepflowing Hypius. Nevertheless, by your hands have they paid the penalty;
and it was not without the will of heaven, I trow, that he brought war on
the Bebrycians this day -- he, the son of Tyndareus, when he slew that
champion. Wherefore whatever requital I am now able to pay, gladly will I
pay it, for that is the rule for weaker men when the stronger begin to help
them. So with you all, and in your company, I bid Dascylus my son
follow; and if he goes, you will find all men friendly that ye meet on your
way through the sea even to the mouth of the river Thermodon. And
besides that, to the sons of Tyndareus will I raise a lofty temple on the
Acherusian height, which all sailors shall mark far across the sea and shall
reverence; and hereafter for them will I set apart outside the city, as for
gods, some fertile fields of the well-tilled plain."
[811] Thus all day long they revelled at the banquet. But at dawn they hied
down to the ship in haste; and with them went Lycus himself, when he
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had given them countless gifts to bear away; and with them he sent forth
his son from his home.
[815] And here his destined fate smote Idmon, son of Abas, skilled in
soothsaying; but not at all did his soothsaying save him, for necessity drew
him on to death. For in the mead of the reedy river there lay, cooling his
flanks and huge belly in the mud, a white-tusked boar, a deadly monster,
whom even the nymphs of the marsh dreaded, and no man knew it; but
all alone he was feeding in the wide fell. But the son of Abas was passing
along the raised banks of the muddy river, and the boar from some
unseen lair leapt out of the reed-bed, and charging gashed his thigh and
severed in twain the sinews and the bone. And with a sharp cry the hero
fell to the ground; and as he was struck his comrades flocked together
with answering cry. And quickly Peleus with his hunting spear aimed at
the murderous boar as he fled back into the fen; and again he turned and
charged; but Idas wounded him, and with a roar he fell impaled upon the
sharp spear. And the boar they left on the ground just as he had fallen
there; but Idmon, now at the last gasp, his comrades bore to the ship in
sorrow of heart, and he died in his comrades' arms.
[835] And here they stayed from taking thought for their voyaging and
abode in grief for the burial of their dead friend. And for three whole days
they lamented; and on the next they buried him with full honours, and the
people and King Lycus himself took part in the funeral rites; and, as is the
due of the departed, they slaughtered countless sheep at his tomb. And so
a barrow to this hero was raised in that land, and there stands a token for
men of later days to see, the trunk of a wild olive tree, such as ships are
built of; and it flourishes with its green leaves a little below the Acherusian
headland. And if at the bidding of the Muses I must tell this tale outright,
Phoebus strictly commanded the Boeotians and Nisaeans to worship him
as guardian of their city, and to build their city round the trunk of the
ancient wild olive; but they, instead of the god-fearing Aeolid Idmon, at
this day honour Agamestor.
[851] Who was the next that died? For then a second time the heroes
heaped up a barrow for a comrade dead. For still are to be seen two
monuments of those heroes. The tale goes that Tiphys son of Hagnias
died; nor was it his destiny thereafter to sail any further. But him there on
the spot a short sickness laid to rest far from his native land, when the
company had paid due honours to the dead son of Abas. And at the cruel
woe they were seized with unbearable grief. For when with due honours
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they had buried him also hard by the seer, they cast themselves down in
helplessness on the sea-shore silently, closely wrapped up, and took no
thought for meat or drink; and their spirit drooped in grief, for all hope of
return was gone. And in their sorrow they would have stayed from going
further had not Hera kindled exceeding courage in Ancaeus, whom near
the waters of Imbrasus Astypalaea bore to Poseidon; for especially was he
skilled in steering and eagerly did he address Peleus: "Son of Aeacus, is it
well for us to give up our toils and linger on in a strange land? Not so
much for my prowess in war did Jason take me with him in quest of the
fleece, far from Parthenia, as for my knowledge of ships. Wherefore, I
pray, let there be no fear for the ship. And so there are here other men of
skill, of whom none will harm our voyaging, whomsoever we set at the
helm. But quickly tell forth all this and boldly urge them to call to mind
their task."
[878] Thus he spake; and Peleus' soul was stirred with gladness, and
straightway he spake in the midst of all: "My friends, why do we thus
cherish a bootless grief like this? For those two have perished by the fate
they have met with; but among our host are steersmen yet, and many a
one. Wherefore let us not delay our attempt, but rouse yourselves to the
work and cast away your griefs."
[885] And him in reply Aeson's son addressed with helpless words: "Son
of Aeacus, where are these steersmen of thine? For those whom we once
deemed to be men of skill, they even more than I are bowed with
vexation of heart. Wherefore I forebode an evil doom for us even as for
the dead, if it shall be our lot neither to reach the city of fell Aeetes, nor
ever again to pass beyond the rocks to the land of Hellas, but a wretched
fate will enshroud us here ingloriously till we grow old for naught."
[894] Thus he spake, but Ancaeus quickly undertook to guide the swift
ship; for he was stirred by the impulse of the goddess. And after him
Erginus and Nauplius and Euphemus started up, eager to steer. But the
others held them back, and many of his comrades granted it to Ancaeus.
[899] So on the twelfth day they went aboard at dawn, for a strong breeze
of westerly wind was blowing. And quickly with the oars they passed out
through the river Acheron and, trusting to the wind, shook out their sails,
and with canvas spread far and wide they were cleaving their passage
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through the waves in fair weather. And soon they passed the outfall of the
river Callichorus, where, as the tale goes, the Nysean son of Zeus, when
he had left the tribes of the Indians and came to dwell at Thebes, held
revels and arrayed dances in front of a cave, wherein he passed unsmiling
sacred nights, from which time the neighbours call the river by the name
of Callichorus and the cave Aulion.
[911] Next they beheld the barrow of Sthenelus, Actor's son, who on his
way back from the valorous war against the Amazons -- for he had been
the comrade of Heracles -- was struck by an arrow and died there upon
the sea-beach. And for a time they went no further, for Persephone
herself sent forth the spirit of Actor's son which craved with many tears
to behold men like himself, even for a moment. And mounting on the
edge of the barrow he gazed upon the ship, such as he was when he went
to war; and round his head a fair helm with four peaks gleamed with its
blood-red crest. And again he entered the vast gloom; and they looked
and marvelled; and Mopsus, son of Ampycus, with word of prophecy
urged them to land and propitiate him with libations. Quickly they drew in
sail and threw out hawsers, and on the strand paid honour to the tomb of
Sthenelus, and poured out drink offerings to him and sacrificed sheep as
victims. And besides the drink offerings they built an altar to Apollo,
saviour of ships, and burnt thigh bones; and Orpheus dedicated his lyre;
whence the place has the name of Lyra.
[930] And straightway they went aboard as the wind blew strong; and they
drew the sail down, and made it taut to both sheets; then Argo was borne
over the sea swiftly, even as a hawk soaring high through the air commits
to the breeze its outspread wings and is borne on swiftly, nor swerves in
its flight, poising in the clear sky with quiet pinions. And lo, they passed
by the stream of Parthenius as it flows into the sea, a most gentle river,
where the maid, daughter of Leto, when she mounts to heaven after the
chase, cools her limbs in its much-desired waters. Then they sped onward
in the night without ceasing, and passed Sesamus and lofty Erythini,
Crobialus, Cromna and woody Cytorus. Next they swept round Carambis
at the rising of the sun, and plied the oars past long Aegialus, all day and
on through the night.
[946] And straightway they landed on the Assyrian shore where Zeus
himself gave a home to Sinope, daughter of Asopus, and granted her
virginity, beguiled by his own promises. For he longed for her love, and
he promised to grant her whatever her hearts desire might be. And she in
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her craftiness asked of him virginity. And in like manner she deceived
Apollo too who longed to wed her, and besides them the river Halys, and
no man ever subdued her in love's embrace. And there the sons of noble
Deimachus of Tricca were still dwelling, Deileon, Autolycus and Phlogius,
since the day when they wandered far away from Heracles; and they, when
they marked the array of chieftains, went to meet them and declared in
truth who they were; and they wished to remain there no longer, but as
soon as Argestes blew went on ship-board. And so with them, borne
along by the swift breeze, the heroes left behind the river Halys, and left
behind his that flows hard by, and the delta-land of Assyria; and on the
same day they rounded the distant headland of the Amazons that guards
their harbour.
[966] Here once when Melanippe, daughter of Ares, had, gone forth, the
hero Heracles caught her by ambuscade and Hippolyte gave him her
glistening girdle as her sister's ransom, and he sent away his captive
unharmed. In the bay of this headland, at the outfall of Thermodon, they
ran ashore, for the sea was rough for their voyage. No river is like this,
and none sends forth from itself such mighty streams over the land. If a
man should count every one he would lack but four of a hundred, but the
real spring is only one. This flows down to the plain from lofty
mountains, which, men say, are called the Amazonian mountains. Thence
it spreads inland over a hilly country straight forward; wherefrom its
streams go winding on, and they roll on, this way and that ever more,
wherever best they can reach the lower ground, one at a distance and
another near at hand; and many streams are swallowed up in the sand and
are without a name; but, mingled with a few, the main stream openly
bursts with its arching crest of foam into the inhospitable Pontus. And
they would have tarried there and have closed in battle with the Amazons,
and would have fought not without bloodshed for the Amazons were not
gentle foes and regarded not justice, those dwellers on the Doeantian
plain; but grievous insolence and the works of Ares were all their care; for
by race they were the daughters of Ares and the nymph Harmonia, who
bare to Ares war-loving maids, wedded to him in the glens of the
Acmonian wood had not the breezes of Argestes come again from Zeus;
and with the wind they left the rounded beach, where the Themiscyreian
Amazons were arming for war. For they dwelt not gathered together in
one city, but scattered over the land, parted into three tribes. In one part
dwelt the Themiscyreians, over whom at that time Hippolyte reigned, in
another the Lycastians, and in another the dart-throwing Chadesians. And
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the next day they sped on and at nightfall they reached the land of the
Chalybes.
[1002] That folk have no care for ploughing with oxen or for any planting
of honey-sweet fruit; nor yet do they pasture flocks in the dewy meadow.
But they cleave the hard iron-bearing land and exchange their wages for
daily sustenance; never does the morn rise for them without toil, but amid
bleak sooty flames and smoke they endure heavy labour.
[1009] And straightway thereafter they rounded the headland of
Genetaean Zeus and sped safely past the land of the Tibareni. Here when
wives bring forth children to their husbands, the men lie in bed and groan
with their heads close bound; but the women tend them with food, and
prepare child-birth baths for them.
[1015] Next they reached the sacred mount and the land where the
Mossynoeci dwell amid high mountains in wooden huts, from which that
people take their name. And strange are their customs and laws. Whatever
it is right to do openly before the people or in the market place, all this
they do in their homes, but whatever acts we perform at home, these they
perform out of doors in the midst of the streets, without blame. And
among them is no reverence for the marriage-bed, but, like swine that
feed in herds, no whit abashed in others' presence, on the earth they lie
with the women. Their king sits in the loftiest hut and dispenses upright
judgments to the multitude, poor wretch! For if haply he err at all in his
decrees, for that day they keep him shut up in starvation.
[1030] They passed them by and cleft their way with oars over against the
island of Ares all day long; for at dusk the light breeze left them. At last
they spied above them, hurtling through the air, one of the birds of Ares
which haunt that isle. It shook its wings down over the ship as she sped
on and sent against her a keen feather, and it fell on the left shoulder of
goodly Oileus, and he dropped his oar from his hands at the sudden blow,
and his comrades marvelled at the sight of the winged bolt. And Eribotes
from his seat hard by drew out the feather, and bound up the wound
when he had loosed the strap hanging from his own sword-sheath; and
besides the first, another bird appeared swooping down; but the hero
Clytius, son of Eurytus -- for he bent his curved bow, and sped a swift
arrow against the bird -- struck it, and it whirled round and fell close to
the ship. And to them spake Amphidamas, son of Aleus:
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[1047] "The island of Ares is near us; you know it yourselves now that ye
have seen these birds. But little will arrows avail us, I trow, for landing.
But let us contrive some other device to help us, if ye intend to land,
bearing in mind the injunction of Phineus. For not even could Heracles,
when he came to Arcadia, drive away with bow and arrow the birds that
swam on the Stymphalian lake. I saw it myself. But he shook in his hand a
rattle of bronze and made a loud clatter as he stood upon a lofty peak, and
the birds fled far off, screeching in bewildered fear. Wherefore now too
let us contrive some such device, and I myself will speak, having pondered
the matter beforehand. Set on your heads your helmets of lofty crest, then
half row by turns, and half fence the ship about with polished spears and
shields. Then all together raise a mighty shout so that the birds may be
scared by the unwonted din, the nodding crests, and the uplifted spears
on high. And if we reach the island itself, then make mighty noise with the
clashing of shields."
[1068] Thus he spake, and the helpful device pleased all. And on their
heads they placed helmets of bronze, gleaming terribly, and the blood-red
crests were tossing. And half of them rowed in turn, and the rest covered
the ship with spears and shields. And as when a man roofs over a house
with tiles, to be an ornament of his home and a defence against rain, and
one the fits firmly into another, each after each; so they roofed over the
ship with their shields, locking them together. And as a din arises from a
warrior-host of men sweeping on, when lines of battle meet, such a shout
rose upward from the ship into the air. Now they saw none of the birds
yet, but when they touched the island and clashed upon their shields, then
the birds in countless numbers rose in flight hither and thither. And as
when the son of Cronos sends from the clouds a dense hailstorm on city
and houses, and the people who dwell beneath hear the din above the
roof and sit quietly, since the stormy season has not come upon them
unawares, but they have first made strong their roofs; so the birds sent
against the heroes a thick shower of feather- shafts as they darted over the
sea to the mountains of the land opposite.
[1090] What then was the purpose of Phineus in bidding the divine band
of heroes land there? Or what kind of help was about to meet their
desire? The sons of Phrixus were faring towards the city of Orchomenus
from Aea, coming from Cytaean Aeetes, on board a Colchian ship, to win
the boundless wealth of their father; for he, when dying, had enjoined this
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journey upon them. And lo, on that day they were very near that island.
But Zeus had impelled the north wind's might to blow, marking by rain
the moist path of Arcturus; and all day long he was stirring the leaves
upon the mountains, breathing gently upon the topmost sprays; but at
night he rushed upon the sea with monstrous force, and with his shrieking
blasts uplifted the surge; and a dark mist covered the heavens, nor did the
bright stars anywhere appear from among the clouds, but a murky gloom
brooded all around. And so the sons of Phrixus, drenched and trembling
in fear of a horrible doom, were borne along by the waves helplessly. And
the force of the wind had snatched away their sails and shattered in twain
the hull, tossed as it was by the breakers. And hereupon by heaven's
prompting those four clutched a huge beam, one of many that were
scattered about, held together by sharp bolts, when the ship broke to
pieces. And on to the island the waves and the blasts of wind bore the
men in their distress, within a little of death. And straightway a mighty
rain burst forth, and rained upon the sea and the island, and all the
country opposite the island, where the arrogant Mossynoeci dwelt. And
the sweep of the waves hurled the sons of Phrixus, together with their
massy beam, upon the beach of the island, in the murky night; and the
floods of rain from Zeus ceased at sunrise, and soon the two bands drew
near and met each other, and Argus spoke first: "We beseech you, by
Zeus the Beholder, whoever ye are, to be kindly and to help us in our
need. For fierce tempests, falling on the sea, have shattered all the timbers
of the crazy ship in which we were cleaving our path on business bent.
Wherefore we entreat you, if haply ye will listen, to grant us just a
covering for our bodies, and to pity and succour men in misfortune, your
equals in age. Oh, reverence suppliants and strangers for Zeus' sake, the
god of strangers and suppliants. To Zeus belong both suppliants and
strangers; and his eye, methinks, beholdeth even us."
[1134] And in reply the son of Aeson prudently questioned him, deeming
that the prophecies of Phineus were being fulfilled: "All these things will
we straightway grant you with right good will. But come tell me truly in
what country ye dwell and what business bids you sail across the sea, and
tell me your own glorious names and lineage."
[1140] And him Argus, helpless in his evil plight, addressed: "That one
Phrixus an Aeolid reached Aea from Hellas you yourselves have clearly
heard ere this, I trow; Phrixus, who came to the city of Aeetes, bestriding
a ram, which Hermes had made all gold; and the fleece ye may see even
now. The ram, at its own prompting, he then sacrificed to Zeus, son of
Cronos, above all, the god of fugitives. And him did Aeetes receive in his
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palace, and with gladness of heart gave him his daughter Chalciope in
marriage without gifts of wooing. From those two are we sprung. But
Phrixus died at last, an aged man, in the home of Aeetes; and we, giving
heed to our father's behests, are journeying to Orehomenus to take the
possessions of Athamas. And if thou dost desire to learn our names, this
is Cytissorus, this Phrontis, and this Melas, and me ye may. call Argus."
[1157] Thus he spake, and the chieftains rejoiced at the meeting, and
tended them, much marvelling. And Jason again in turn replied, as was
fitting, with these words: "Surely ye are our kinsmen on my father's side,
and ye pray that with kindly hearts we succour your evil plight. For
Cretheus and Athamas were brothers. I am the grandson of Cretheus, and
with these comrades here I am journeying from that same Hellas to the
city of Aeetes. But of these things we will converse hereafter. And do ye
first put clothing upon you. By heaven's devising, I ween, have ye come to
my hands in your sore need."
[1168] He spake, and out of the ship gave them raiment to put on. Then
all together they went to the temple of Ares to offer sacrifice of sheep;
and in haste they stood round the altar, which was outside the roofless
temple, an altar built of pebbles; within a black stone stood fixed, a sacred
thing, to which of yore the Amazons all used to pray. Nor was it lawful
for them, when they came from the opposite coast, to burn on this altar
offerings of sheep and oxen, but they used to slay horses which they kept
in great herds. Now when they had sacrificed and eaten the feast
prepared, then Aeson's son spake among them and thus began: "Zeus'
self, I ween, beholds everything; nor do we men escape his eye, we that be
god-fearing and just, for as he rescued your father from the hands of a
murderous step-dame and gave him measureless wealth besides; even so
hath he saved you harmless from the baleful storm. And on board this
ship ye may sail hither and thither, where ye will, whether to Aea or to the
wealthy city of divine Orthomenus. For our ship Athena built and with
axe of bronze cut her timbers near the crest of Pelion, and with the
goddess wrought Argus. But yours the fierce surge hath shattered, before
ye came nigh to the rocks which all day long clash together in the straits
of the sea. But come, be yourselves our helpers, for we are eager to bring
to Hellas the golden fleece, and guide us on our voyage, for I go to atone
for the intended sacrifice of Phrixus, the cause of Zeus' wrath against the
sons of Aeolus."
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[1196] He spake with soothing words; but horror seized them when they
heard. For they deemed that they would not find Aeetes friendly if they
desired to take away the ram's fleece. And Argus spake as follows, vexed
that they should busy themselves with such a quest: "My friends, our
strength, so far as it avails, shall never cease to help you, not one whit,
when need shall come. But Aeetes is terribly armed with deadly
ruthlessness; wherefore exceedingly do I dread this voyage. And he boasts
himself to be the son of Helios; and all round dwell countless tribes of
Colchians; and he might match himself with Ares in his dread war-cry and
giant strength. Nay, to seize the fleece in spite of Aeetes is no easy task; so
huge a serpent keeps guard round and about it, deathless and sleepless,
which Earth herself brought forth on the sides of Caucasus, by the rock
of Typhaon, where Typhaon, they say, smitten by the bolt of Zeus, son of
Cronos, when he lifted against the god his sturdy hands, dropped from his
head hot gore; and in such plight he reached the mountains and plain of
Nysa, where to this day he lies whelmed beneath the waters of the
Serbonian lake."
[1216] Thus he spake, and straightway many a cheek grew pale when they
heard of so mighty an adventure. But quickly Peleus answered with
cheering words, and thus spake: "Be not so fearful in spirit, my good
friend. For we are not so lacking in prowess as to be no match for Aeetes
to try his strength with arms; but I deem that we too are cunning in war,
we that go thither, near akin to the blood of the blessed gods. Wherefore
if he will not grant us the fleece of gold for friendship's sake, the tribes of
the Colchians will not avail him, I ween."
[1226] Thus they addressed each other in turn, until again, satisfied with
their feast, they turned to rest. And when they rose at dawn a gentle
breeze was blowing; and they raised the sails, which strained to the rush of
the wind, and quickly they left behind the island of Ares.
[1231] And at nightfall they came to the island of Philyra, where Cronos,
son of Uranus, what time in Olympus he reigned over the Titans, and
Zeus was yet being nurtured in a Cretan cave by the Curetes of Ida, lay
beside Philyra, when he had deceived Rhea; and the goddess found them
in the midst of their dalliance; and Cronos leapt up from the couch with a
rush in the form of a steed with flowing mane, but Ocean's daughter,
Philyra, in shame left the spot and those haunts, and came to the long
Pelasgian ridges, where by her union with the transfigured deity she
brought forth huge Cheiron, half like a horse, half like a god.
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[1242] Thence they sailed on, past the Macrones and the far-stretching
land of the Becheiri and the overweening Sapeires, and after them the
Byzeres; for ever forward they clave their way, quickly borne by the gentle
breeze. And lo, as they sped on, a deep gulf of the sea was opened, and lo,
the steep crags of the Caucasian mountains rose up, where, with his limbs
bound upon the hard rocks by galling fetters of bronze, Prometheus fed
with his liver an eagle that ever rushed back to its prey. High above the
ship at even they saw it flying with a loud whirr, near the clouds; and yet it
shook all the sails with the fanning of those huge wings. For it had not the
form of a bird of the air but kept poising its long wing-feathers like
polished oars. And not long after they heard the bitter cry of Prometheus
as his liver was being torn away; and the air rang with his screams until
they marked the ravening eagle rushing back from the mountain on the
self-same track. And at night, by the skill of Argus, they reached broadflowing Phasis, and the utmost bourne of the sea.
[1262] And straightway they let down the sails and the yard-arm and
stowed them inside the hollow mast-crutch, and at once they lowered the
mast itself till it lay along; and quickly with oars they entered the mighty
stream of the river; and round the prow the water surged as it gave them
way. And on their left hand they had lofty Caucasus and the Cytaean city
of Aea, and on the other side the plain of Ares and the sacred grove of
that god, where the serpent was keeping watch and ward over the fleece
as it hung on the leafy branches of an oak. And Aeson's son himself from
a golden goblet poured into the river libations of honey and pure wine to
Earth and to the gods of the country, and to the souls of dead heroes; and
he besought them of their grace to give kindly aid, and to welcome their
ship's hawsers with favourable omen. And straightway Ancaeus spake
these words: "We have reached the Colchian land and the stream of
Phasis; and it is time for us to take counsel whether we shall make trial of
Aeetes with soft words, or an attempt of another kind shall be fitting."
[1281] Thus he spake, and by the advice of Argus Jason bade them enter a
shaded backwater and let the ship ride at anchor off shore; and it was near
at hand in their course and there they passed the night. And soon the
dawn appeared to their expectant eyes.
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- BOOK III -
C
ome now, Erato, stand by my side, and say next how Jason
brought back the fleece to Iolcus aided by the love of Medea. For
thou sharest the power of Cypris, and by thy love-cares dost
charm unwedded maidens; wherefore to thee too is attached a name that
tells of love.
[6] Thus the heroes, unobserved, were waiting in ambush amid the thick
reed-beds; but Hera and Athena took note of them, and, apart from Zeus
and the other immortals, entered a chamber and took counsel together;
and Hera first made trial of Athena: "Do thou now first, daughter of
Zeus, give advice. What must be done? Wilt thou devise some scheme
whereby they may seize the golden fleece of Aeetes and bear it to Hellas,
or can they deceive the king with soft words and so work persuasion? Of
a truth he is terribly overweening. Still it is right to shrink from no
endeavour."
[17] Thus she spake, and at once Athena addressed her: "I too was
pondering such thoughts in my heart, Hera, when thou didst ask me
outright. But not yet do I think that I have conceived a scheme to aid the
courage of the heroes, though I have balanced many plans."
[22] She ended, and the goddesses fixed their eyes on the ground at their
feet, brooding apart; and straightway Hera was the first to speak her
thought: "Come, let us go to Cypris; let both of us accost her and urge her
to bid her son (if only he will obey) speed his shaft at the daughter of
Aeetes, the enchantress, and charm her with love for Jason. And I deem
that by her device he will bring back the fleece to Hellas."
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[30] Thus she spake, and the prudent plan pleased Athena, and she
addressed her in reply with gentle words: "Hera, my father begat me to be
a stranger to the darts of love, nor do I know any charm to work desire.
But if the word pleases thee, surely I will follow; but thou must speak
when we meet her."
[36] So she said, and starting forth they came to the mighty palace of
Cypris, which her husband, the halt-footed god, had built for her when
first he brought her from Zeus to be his wife. And entering the court they
stood beneath the gallery of the chamber where the goddess prepared the
couch of Hephaestus. But he had gone early to his forge and anvils to a
broad cavern in a floating island where with the blast of flame he wrought
all manner of curious work; and she all alone was sitting within, on an
inlaid seat facing the door. And her white shoulders on each side were
covered with the mantle of her hair and she was parting it with a golden
comb and about to braid up the long tresses; but when she saw the
goddesses before her, she stayed and called them within, and rose from
her seat and placed them on couches. Then she herself sat down, and with
her hands gathered up the locks still uncombed. And smiling she
addressed them with crafty words: "Good friends, what intent, what
occasion brings you here after so long? Why have ye come, not too
frequent visitors before, chief among goddesses that ye are?"
[55] And to her Hera replied: "Thou dost mock us, but our hearts are
stirred with calamity. For already on the river Phasis the son of Aeson
moors his ship, he and his comrades in quest of the fleece. For all their
sakes we fear terribly (for the task is nigh at hand) but most for Aeson's
son. Him will I deliver, though he sail even to Hades to free Ixion below
from his brazen chains, as far as strength lies in my limbs, so that Pelias
may not mock at having escaped an evil doom -- Pelias who left me
unhonoured with sacrifice. Moreover Jason was greatly loved by me
before, ever since at the mouth of Anaurus in flood, as I was making trial
of men's righteousness, he met me on his return from the chase; and all
the mountains and long ridged peaks were sprinkled with snow, and from
them the torrents rolling down were rushing with a roar. And he took pity
on me in the likeness of an old crone, and raising me on his shoulders
himself bore me through the headlong tide. So he is honoured by me
unceasingly; nor will Pelias pay the penalty of his outrage, unless thou wilt
grant Jason his return."
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[76] Thus she spake, and speechlessness seized Cypris. And beholding
Hera supplicating her she felt awe, and then addressed her with friendly
words: "Dread goddess, may no viler thing than Cypris ever be found, if I
disregard thy eager desire in word or deed, whatever my weak arms can
effect; and let there be no favour in return."
[83] She spake, and Hera again addressed her with prudence: "It is not in
need of might or of strength that we have come. But just quietly bid thy
boy charm Aeetes' daughter with love for Jason. For if she will aid him
with her kindly counsel, easily do I think he will win the fleece of gold and
return to Iolcus, for she is full of wiles."
[90] Thus she spake, and Cypris addressed them both: "Hera and Athena,
he will obey you rather than me. For unabashed though he is, there will be
some slight shame in his eyes before you; but he has no respect for me,
but ever slights me in contentious mood. And, overborne by his
naughtiness, I purpose to break his ill-sounding arrows and his bow in his
very sight. For in his anger he has threatened that if I shall not keep my
hands off him while he still masters his temper, I shall have cause to
blame myself thereafter."
[100] So she spake, and the goddesses smiled and looked at each other.
But Cypris again spoke, vexed at heart: "To others my sorrows are a jest;
nor ought I to tell them to all; I know them too well myself. But now,
since this pleases you both, I will make the attempt and coax him, and he
will not say me nay."
[106] Thus she spake, and Hera took her slender hand and gently smiling,
replied: "Perform this task, Cytherea, straightway, as thou sayest; and be
not angry or contend with thy boy; he will cease hereafter to vex thee."
[111] She spake, and left her seat, and Athena accompanied her and they
went forth both hastening back. And Cypris went on her way through the
glens of Olympus to find her boy. And she found him apart, in the
blooming orchard of Zeus, not alone, but with him Ganymedes, whom
once Zeus had set to dwell among the immortal gods, being enamoured
of his beauty. And they were playing for golden dice, as boys in one house
are wont to do. And already greedy Eros was holding the palm of his left
hand quite full of them under his breast, standing upright; and on the
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bloom of his cheeks a sweet blush was glowing. But the other sat
crouching hard by, silent and downcast, and he had two dice left which he
threw one after the other, and was angered by the loud laughter of Eros.
And lo, losing them straightway with the former, he went off empty
handed, helpless, and noticed not the approach of Cypris.
[127] And she stood before her boy, and laying her hand on his lips,
addressed him: "Why dost thou smile in triumph, unutterable rogue? Hast
thou cheated him thus, and unjustly overcome the innocent child? Come,
be ready to perform for me the task I will tell thee of, and I will give thee
Zeus' all-beauteous plaything -- the one which his dear nurse Adrasteia
made for him, while he still lived a child, with childish ways, in the Idaean
cave -- a well-rounded ball; no better toy wilt thou get from the hands of
Hephaestus. All of gold are its zones, and round each double seams run in
a circle; but the stitches are hidden, and a dark blue spiral overlays them
all. But if thou shouldst cast it with thy hands, lo, like a star, it sends a
flaming track through the sky. This I will give thee; and do thou strike
with thy shaft and charm the daughter of Aeetes with love for Jason; and
let there be no loitering. For then my thanks would be the slighter."
[145] Thus she spake, and welcome were her words to the listening boy.
And he threw down all his toys, and eagerly seizing her robe on this side
and on that, clung to the goddess. And he implored her to bestow the gift
at once; but she, facing him with kindly words, touched his cheeks, kissed
him and drew him to her, and replied with a smile: "Be witness now thy
dear head and mine, that surely I will give thee the gift and deceive thee
not, if thou wilt strike with thy shaft Aeetes' daughter."
[154] She spoke, and he gathered up his dice, and having well counted
them all threw them into his mother's gleaming lap. And straightway with
golden baldric he slung round him his quiver from where it leant against a
tree-trunk, and took up his curved bow. And he fared forth through the
fruitful orchard of the palace of Zeus. Then he passed through the gates
of Olympus high in air; hence is a downward path from heaven; and the
twin poles rear aloft steep mountain tops the highest crests of earth,
where the risen sun grows ruddy with his first beams. And beneath him
there appeared now the life-giving earth and cities of men and sacred
streams of rivers, and now in turn mountain peaks and the ocean all
around, as he swept through the vast expanse of air.
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[167] Now the heroes apart in ambush, in a back-water of the river, were
met in council, sitting on the benches of their ship. And Aeson's son
himself was speaking among them; and they were listening silently in their
places sitting row upon row: "My friends, what pleases myself that will I
say out; it is for you to bring about its fulfilment. For in common is our
task, and common to all alike is the right of speech; and he who in silence
withholds his thought and his counsel, let him know that it is he alone
that bereaves this band of its home-return. Do ye others rest here in the
ship quietly with your arms; but I will go to the palace of Aeetes, taking
with me the sons of Phrixus and two comrades as well. And when I meet
him I will first make trial with words to see if he will be willing to give up
the golden fleece for friendship's sake or not, but trusting to his might will
set at nought our quest. For so, learning his frowardness first from
himself, we will consider whether we shall meet him in battle, or some
other plan shall avail us, if we refrain from the war-cry. And let us not
merely by force, before putting words to the test, deprive him of his own
possession. But first it is better to go to him and win his favour by speech.
Oftentimes, I ween, does speech accomplish at need what prowess could
hardly catty through, smoothing the path in manner befitting. And he
once welcomed noble Phrixus, a fugitive from his stepmother's wiles and
the sacrifice prepared by his father. For all men everywhere, even the
most shameless, reverence the ordinance of Zeus, god of strangers, and
regard it."
[194] Thus he spake, and the youths approved the words of Aeson's son
with one accord, nor was there one to counsel otherwise. And then he
summoned to go with him the sons of Phrixus, and Telamon and
Augeias; and himself took Hermes' wand; and at once they passed forth
from the ship beyond the reeds and the water to dry land, towards the
rising ground of the plain. The plain, I wis, is called Circe's; and here in
line grow many willows and osiers, on whose topmost branches hang
corpses bound with cords. For even now it is an abomination with the
Colchians to burn dead men with fire; nor is it lawful to place them in the
earth and raise a mound above, but to wrap them in untanned oxhides
and suspend them from trees far from the city. And so earth has an equal
portion with air, seeing that they bury the women; for that is the custom
of their land.
[210] And as they went Hera with friendly thought spread a thick mist
through the city, that they might fare to the palace of Aeetes unseen by
282
the countless hosts of the Colchians. But soon when from the plain they
came to the city and Aeetes' palace, then again Hera dispersed the mist.
And they stood at the entrance, marvelling at the king's courts and the
wide gates and columns which rose in ordered lines round the walls; and
high up on the palace a coping of stone rested on brazen triglyphs. And
silently they crossed the threshold. And close by garden vines covered
with green foliage were in full bloom, lifted high in air. And beneath them
ran four fountains, ever-flowing, which Hephaestus had delved out. One
was gushing with milk, one with wine, while the third flowed with fragrant
oil; and the fourth ran with water, which grew warm at the setting of the
Pleiads, and in turn at their rising bubbled forth from the hollow rock,
cold as crystal. Such then were the wondrous works that the craftsmangod Hephaestus had fashioned in the palace of Cytaean Aeetes. And he
wrought for him bulls with feet of bronze, and their mouths were of
bronze, and from them they breathed out a terrible flame of fire;
moreover he forged a plough of unbending adamant, all in one piece, in
payment of thanks to Helios, who had taken the god up in his chariot
when faint from the Phlegraean fight. And here an inner-court was built,
and round it were many well-fitted doors and chambers here and there,
and all along on each side was a richly-wrought gallery. And on both sides
loftier buildings stood obliquely. In one, which was the loftiest, lordly
Aeetes dwelt with his queen; and in another dwelt Apsyrtus, son of
Aeetes, whom a Caucasian nymph, Asterodeia, bare before he made
Eidyia his wedded wife, the youngest daughter of Tethys and Oceanus.
And the sons of the Colchians called him by the new name of Phaethon,
because he outshone all the youths. The other buildings the handmaidens
had, and the two daughters of Aeetes, Chalciope and Medea. Medea then
[they found] going from chamber to chamber in search of her sister, for
Hera detained her within that day; but beforetime she was not wont to
haunt the palace, but all day long was busied in Hecate's temple, since she
herself was the priestess of the goddess. And when she saw them she
cried aloud, and quickly Chalciope caught the sound; and her maids,
throwing down at their feet their yarn and their thread, rushed forth all in
a throng. And she, beholding her sons among them, raised her hands aloft
through joy; and so they likewise greeted their mother, and when they saw
her embraced her in their gladness; and she with many sobs spoke thus:
"After all then, ye were not destined to leave me in your heedlessness and
to wander far; but fate has turned you back. Poor wretch that I am! What
a yearning for Hellas from some woeful madness seized you at the behest
of your father Phrixus. Bitter sorrows for my heart did he ordain when
dying. And why should ye go to the city of Orchomenus, whoever this
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Orchomenus is, for the sake of Athamas' wealth, leaving your mother
alone to bear her grief?"
[268] Such were her words; and Aeetes came forth last of all and Eidyia
herself came, the queen of Aeetes, on hearing the voice of Chalciope; and
straightway all the court was filled with a throng. Some of the thralls were
busied with a mighty bull, others with the axe were cleaving dry billets,
and others heating with fire water for the baths; nor was there one who
relaxed his toil, serving the king.
[275] Meantime Eros passed unseen through the grey mist, causing
confusion, as when against grazing heifers rises the gadfly, which oxherds
call the breese. And quickly beneath the lintel in the porch he strung his
bow and took from the quiver an arrow unshot before, messenger of pain.
And with swift feet unmarked he passed the threshold and keenly glanced
around; and gliding close by Aeson's son he laid the arrow-notch on the
cord in the centre, and drawing wide apart with both hands he shot at
Medea; and speechless amazement seized her soul. But the god himself
flashed back again from the high-roofed hall, laughing loud; and the bolt
burnt deep down in the maiden's heart like a flame; and ever she kept
darting bright glances straight up at Aeson's son, and within her breast her
heart panted fast through anguish, all remembrance left her, and her soul
melted with the sweet pain. And as a poor woman heaps dry twigs round
a blazing brand -- a daughter of toil, whose task is the spinning of wool,
that she may kindle a blaze at night beneath her roof, when she has waked
very early -- and the flame waxing wondrous great from the small brand
consumes all the twigs together; so, coiling round her heart, burnt secretly
Love the destroyer; and the hue of her soft cheeks went and came, now
pale, now red, in her soul's distraction.
[299] Now when the thralls had laid a banquet ready before them, and
they had refreshed themselves with warm baths, gladly did they please
their souls with meat and drink. And thereafter Aeetes questioned the
sons of his daughter, addressing them with these words: "Sons of my
daughter and of Phrixus, whom beyond all strangers I honoured in my
halls, how have ye come returning back to Aea? Did some calamity cut
short your escape in the midst? Ye did not listen when I set before you
the boundless length of the way. For I marked it once, whirled along in
the chariot of my father Helios, when he was bringing my sister Circe to
the western land and we came to the shore of the Tyrrhenian mainland,
where even now she abides, exceeding far from Colchis. But what
284
pleasure is there in words? Do ye tell me plainly what has been your
fortune, and who these men are, your companions, and where from your
hollow ship ye came ashore."
[317] Such were his questions, and Argus, before all his brethren, being
fearful for the mission of Aeson's son, gently replied, for he was the elderborn: "Aeetes, that ship forthwith stormy blasts tore asunder, and
ourselves, crouching on the beams, a wave drove on to the beach of the
isle of Enyalius in the murky night; and some god preserved us. For even
the birds of Ares that haunted the desert isle beforetime, not even them
did we find. But these men had driven them off, having landed from their
ship on the day before; and the will of Zeus taking pity on us, or some
fate, detained them there, since they straightway gave us both food and
clothing in abundance, when they heard the illustrious name of Phrixus
and thine own; for to thy city are they faring. And if thou dost wish to
know their errand, I will not hide it from time. A certain king, vehemently
longing to drive this man far from his fatherland and possessions, because
in might he outshone all the sons of Aeolus, sends him to voyage hither
on a bootless venture; and asserts that the stock of Aeolus will not escape
the heart-grieving wrath and rage of implacable Zeus, nor the unbearable
curse and vengeance due for Phrixus, until the fleece comes back to
Hellas. And their ship was fashioned by Pallas Athena, not such a one as
are the ships among the Colchians, on the vilest of which we chanced. For
the fierce waves and wind broke her utterly to pieces; but the other holds
firm with her bolts, even though all the blasts should buffet her. And with
equal swiftness she speedeth before the wind and when the crew ply the
oar with unresting hands. And he hath gathered in her the mightiest
heroes of all Achaea, and hath come to thy city from wandering far
through cities and gulfs of the dread ocean, in the hope that thou wilt
grant him the fleece. But as thou dost please, so shall it be, for he cometh
not to use force, but is eager to pay thee a recompense for the gift. He has
heard from me of thy bitter foes the Sauromatae, and he will subdue them
to thy sway. And if thou desirest to know their names and lineage I will
tell thee all. This man on whose account the rest were gathered from
Hellas, they call Jason, son of Aeson, whom Cretheus begat. And if in
truth he is of the stock of Cretheus himself, thus he would be our
kinsman on the father's side. For Cretheus and Athamas were both sons
of Aeolus; and Phrixus was the son of Athamas, son of Aeolus. And here,
if thou hast heard at all of the seed of Helios, thou dost behold Augeias;
and this is Telamon sprung from famous Aeacus; and Zeus himself begat
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Aeacus. And so all the rest, all the comrades that follow him, are the sons
or grandsons of the immortals."
[367] Such was the tale of Argus; but the king at his words was filled with
rage as he heard; and his heart was lifted high in wrath. And he spake in
heavy displeasure; and was angered most of all with the son of Chalciope;
for he deemed that on their account the strangers had come; and in his
fury his eyes flashed forth beneath his brows: "Begone from my sight,
felons, straightway, ye and your tricks, from the land, ere someone see a
fleece and a Phrixus to his sorrow. Banded together with your friends
from Hellas, not for the fleece, but to seize my sceptre and royal power
have ye come hither. Had ye not first tasted of my table, surely would I
have cut out your tongues and hewn off both hands and sent you forth
with your feet alone, so that ye might be stayed from starting hereafter.
And what lies have ye uttered against the blessed gods!"
[382] 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."
[396] 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,
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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."
[422] 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."
[432] 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."
[439] 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
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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."
[471] 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."
[383] 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."
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[502] 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."
[515] 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."
[540] 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
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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."
[555] 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."
[564] 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."
[572] 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.
[576] But straightway Aeetes held an assembly of the Colchians far aloof
from his palace at a spot where they sat in times before, to devise against
the Minyae grim treachery and troubles. And he threatened that when first
the oxen should have torn in pieces the man who had taken upon him to
perform the heavy task, he would hew down the oak grove above the
wooded hill, and burn the ship and her crew, that so they might vent forth
in ruin their grievous insolence, for all their haughty schemes. For never
would he have welcomed the Aeolid Phrixus as a guest in his halls, in
spite of his sore need, Phrixus, who surpassed all strangers in gentleness
and fear of the gods, had not Zeus himself sent Hermes his messenger
down from heaven, so that he might meet with a friendly host; much less
would pirates coming to his land be let go scatheless for long, men whose
care it was to lift their hands and seize the goods of others, and to weave
secret webs of guile, and harry the steadings of herdsmen with illsounding forays. And he said that besides all that the sons of Phrixus
should pay a fitting penalty to himself for returning in consort with
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evildoers, that they might recklessly drive him from his honour and his
throne; for once he had heard a baleful prophecy from his father Helios,
that he must avoid the secret treachery and schemes of his own offspring
and their crafty mischief. Wherefore he was sending them, as they desired,
to the Achaean land at the bidding of their father -- a long journey. Nor
had he ever so slight a fear of his daughters, that they would form some
hateful scheme, nor of his son Apsyrtus; but this curse was being fulfilled
in the children of Chalciope. And he proclaimed terrible things in his rage
against the strangers, and loudly threatened to keep watch over the ship
and its crew, so that no one might escape calamity.
[609] Meantime Argus, going to Aeetes' palace, with manifold pleading
besought his mother to pray Medea's aid; and Chalciope herself already
had the same thoughts, but fear checked her soul lest haply either fate
should withstand and she should entreat her in vain, all distraught as she
would be at her father's deadly wrath, or, if Medea yielded to her prayers,
her deeds should be laid bare and open to view.
[616] Now a deep slumber had relieved the maiden from her love-pains as
she lay upon her couch. But straightway fearful dreams, deceitful, such as
trouble one in grief, assailed her. And she thought that the stranger had
taken on him the contest, not because he longed to win the ram's fleece,
and that he had not come on that account to Aeetes' city, but to lead her
away, his wedded wife, to his own home; and she dreamed that herself
contended with the oxen and wrought the task with exceeding ease; and
that her own parents set at naught their promise, for it was not the
maiden they had challenged to yoke the oxen but the stranger himself;
from that arose a contention of doubtful issue between her father and the
strangers; and both laid the decision upon her, to be as she should direct
in her mind. But she suddenly, neglecting her parents, chose the stranger.
And measureless anguish seized them and they shouted out in their wrath;
and with the cry sleep released its hold upon her. Quivering with fear she
started up, and stared round the walls of her chamber, and with difficulty
did she gather her spirit within her as before, and lifted her voice aloud:
"Poor wretch, how have gloomy dreams affrighted me! I fear that this
voyage of the heroes will bring some great evil. My heart is trembling for
the stranger. Let him woo some Achaean girl far away among his own
folk; let maidenhood be mine and the home of my parents. Yet, taking to
myself a reckless heart, I will no more keep aloof but will make trial of my
sister to see if she will entreat me to aid in the contest, through grief for
her own sons; this would quench the bitter pain in my heart."
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[645] She spake, and rising from her bed opened the door of her chamber,
bare-footed, clad in one robe; and verily she desired to go to her sister,
and crossed the threshold. And for long she stayed there at the entrance
of her chamber, held back by shame; and she turned back once more; and
again she came forth from within, and again stole back; and idly did her
feet bear her this way and that; yea, as oft as she went straight on, shame
held her within the chamber, and though held back by shame, bold desire
kept urging her on. Thrice she made the attempt and thrice she checked
herself, the fourth time she fell on her bed face downward, writhing in
pain. And as when a bride in her chamber bewails her youthful husband,
to whom her brothers and parents have given her, nor yet does she hold
converse with all her attendants for shame and for thinking of him; but
she sits apart in her grief; and some doom has destroyed him, before they
have had pleasure of each other's charms; and she with heart on fire
silently weeps, beholding her widowed couch, in fear lest the women
should mock and revile her; like to her did Medea lament. And suddenly
as she was in the midst of her tears, one of the handmaids came forth and
noticed her, one who was her youthful attendant; and straightway she told
Chalciope, who sat in the midst of her sons devising how to win over her
sister. And when Chalciope heard the strange tale from the handmaid, not
even so did she disregard it. And she rushed in dismay from her chamber
right on to the chamber where the maiden lay in her anguish, having torn
her cheeks on each side; and when Chalciope saw her eyes all dimmed
with tears, she thus addressed her: "Ah me, Medea, why dost thou weep
so? What hath befallen thee? What terrible grief has entered thy heart?
Has some heaven-sent disease enwrapt thy frame, or hast thou heard
from our father some deadly threat concerning me and my sons? Would
that I did not behold this home of my parents, or the city, but dwelt at the
ends of the earth, where not even the name of Colchians is known!"
[681] Thus she spake, and her sister's cheeks flushed; and though she was
eager to reply, long did maiden shame restrain her. At one moment the
word rose on the end of her tongue, at another it fluttered back deep
within her breast. And often through her lovely lips it strove for utterance;
but no sound came forth; till at last she spoke with guileful words; for the
bold Loves were pressing her hard: "Chalciope, my heart is all trembling
for thy sons, lest my father forthwith destroy them together with the
strangers. Slumbering just now in a short-lived sleep such a ghastly dream
did I see -- may some god forbid its fulfilment and never mayst thou win
for thyself bitter care on thy sons' account."
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[693] She spake, making trial of her sister to see if she first would entreat
help for her sons. And utterly unbearable grief surged over Chalciope's
soul for fear at what she heard; and then she replied: "Yea, I myself too
have come to thee in eager furtherance of this purpose, if thou wouldst
haply devise with me and prepare some help. But swear by Earth and
Heaven that thou wilt keep secret in thy heart what I shall tell thee, and be
fellow-worker with me. I implore thee by the blessed gods, by thyself and
by thy parents, not to see them destroyed by an evil doom piteously; or
else may I die with my dear sons and come back hereafter from Hades an
avenging Fury to haunt thee."
[705] Thus she spake, and straightway a torrent of tears gushed forth and
low down she clasped her sister's knees with both hands and let her head
sink on to her breast. Then they both made piteous lamentation over each
other, and through the halls rose the faint sound of women weeping in
anguish. Medea, sore troubled, first addressed her sister: "God help thee,
what healing can I bring thee for what thou speakest of, horrible curses
and Furies? Would that it were firmly in my power to save thy sons! Be
witness that mighty oath of the Colchians by which thou urgest me to
swear, the great Heaven, and Earth beneath, mother of the gods, that as
far as strength lies in me, never shalt thou fail of help, if only thy prayers
can be accomplished."
[718] She spake, and Chalciope thus replied: "Couldst thou not then, for
the stranger -- who himself craves thy aid -- devise some trick or some
wise thought to win the contest, for the sake of my sons? And from him
has come Argus urging me to try to win thy help; I left him in the palace
meantime while I came hither."
[724] Thus she spake, and Medea's heart bounded with joy within her, and
at once her fair cheeks flushed, and a mist swam before her melting eyes,
and she spake as follows: "Chalciope, as is dear and delightful to thee and
thy sons, even so will I do. Never may the dawn appear again to my eyes,
never mayst thou see me living any longer, if I should take thought for
anything before thy life or thy sons' lives, for they are my brothers, my
dear kinsmen and youthful companions. So do I declare myself to be thy
sister, and thy daughter too, for thou didst lift me to thy breast when an
infant equally with them, as I ever heard from my mother in past days.
But go, bury my kindness in silence, so that I may carry out my promise
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unknown to my parents; and at dawn I will bring to Hecate's temple
charms to cast a spell upon the bulls."
[740] Thus Chalciope went back from the chamber, and made known to
her sons the help given by her sister. And again did shame and hateful
fear seize Medea thus left alone, that she should devise such deeds for a
man in her father's despite.
[744] Then did night draw darkness over the earth; and on the sea sailors
from their ships looked towards the Bear and the stars of Orion; and now
the wayfarer and the warder longed for sleep, and the pall of slumber
wrapped round the mother whose children were dead; nor was there any
more the barking of dogs through the city, nor sound of men's voices; but
silence held the blackening gloom. But not indeed upon Medea came
sweet sleep. For in her love for Aeson's son many cares kept her wakeful,
and she dreaded the mighty strength of the bulls, beneath whose fury he
was like to perish by an unseemly fate in the field of Ares. And fast did
her heart throb within her breast, as a sunbeam quivers upon the walls of
a house when flung up from water, which is just poured forth in a caldron
or a pail may be; and hither and thither on the swift eddy does it dart and
dance along; even so the maiden's heart quivered in her breast. And the
tear of pity flowed from her eyes, and ever within anguish tortured her, a
smouldering fire through her frame, and about her fine nerves and deep
down beneath the nape of the neck where the pain enters keenest,
whenever the unwearied Loves direct against the heart their shafts of
agony. And she thought now that she would give him the charms to cast a
spell on the bulls, now that she would not, and that she herself would
perish; and again that she would not perish and would not give the
charms, but just as she was would endure her fate in silence.
[771] Then sitting down she wavered in mind and said: "Poor wretch,
must I toss hither and thither in woe? On every side my heart is in
despair; nor is there any help for my pain; but it burneth ever thus. Would
that I had been slain by the swift shafts of Artemis before I had set eyes
on him, before Chalciope's sons reached the Achaean land. Some god or
some Fury brought them hither for our grief, a cause of many tears. Let
him perish in the contest if it be his lot to die in the field. For how could I
prepare the charms without my parents' knowledge? What story call I tell
them? What trick, what cunning device for aid can I find? If I see him
alone, apart from his comrades, shall I greet him? Ill-starred that I am! I
cannot hope that I should rest from my sorrows even though he perished;
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then will evil come to me when he is bereft of life. Perish all shame, perish
all glow; may he, saved by my effort, go scatheless wherever his heart
desires. But as for me, on the day when he bides the contest in triumph,
may I die either straining my neck in the noose from the roof-tree or
tasting drugs destructive of life. But even so, when I am dead, they will
fling out taunts against me; and every city far away will ring with my
doom, and the Colchian women, tossing my name on their lips hither and
thither, will revile me with unseemly mocking -- the maid who cared so
much for a stranger that she died, the maid who disgraced her home and
her parents, yielding to a mad passion. And what disgrace will not be
mine? Alas for my infatuation! Far better would it be for me to forsake
life this very night in my chamber by some mysterious fate, escaping all
slanderous reproach, before I complete such nameless dishonour."
[802] She spake, and brought a casket wherein lay many drugs, some for
healing, others for killing, and placing it upon her knees she wept. And
she drenched her bosom with ceaseless tears, which flowed in torrents as
she sat, bitterly bewailing her own fate. And she longed to choose a
murderous drug to taste it, and now she was loosening the bands of the
casket eager to take it forth, unhappy maid! But suddenly a deadly fear of
hateful Hades came upon her heart. And long she held back in speechless
horror, and all around her thronged visions of the pleasing cares of life.
She thought of all the delightful things that are among the living, she
thought of her joyous playmates, as a maiden will; and the sun grew
sweeter than ever to behold, seeing that in truth her soul yearned for all.
And she put the casket again from off her knees, all changed by the
prompting of Hera, and no more did she waver in purpose; but longed for
the rising dawn to appear quickly, that she might give him the charms to
work the spell as she had promised, and meet him face to face. And often
did she loosen the bolts of her door, to watch for the faint gleam: and
welcome to her did the dayspring shed its light, and folk began to stir
throughout the city.
[825] Then Argus bade his brothers remain there to learn the maiden's
mind and plans, but himself turned back and went to the ship.
[828] Now soon as ever the maiden saw the light of dawn, with her hands
she gathered up her golden tresses which were floating round her
shoulders in careless disarray, and bathed her tear-stained cheeks, and
made her skin shine with ointment sweet as nectar; and she donned a
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beautiful robe, fitted with well-bent clasps, and above on her head,
divinely fair, she threw a veil gleaming like silver. And there, moving to
and fro in the palace, she trod the ground forgetful of the heaven-sent
woes thronging round her and of others that were destined to follow. And
she called to her maids. Twelve they were, who lay during the night in the
vestibule of her fragrant chamber, young as herself, not yet sharing the
bridal couch, and she bade them hastily yoke the mules to the chariot to
bear her to the beauteous shrine of Hecate. Thereupon the handmaids
were making ready the chariot; and Medea meanwhile took from the
hollow casket a charm which men say is called the charm of Prometheus.
If a man should anoint his body therewithal, having first appeased the
Maiden, the only-begotten, with sacrifice by night, surely that man could
not be wounded by the stroke of bronze nor would he flinch from blazing
fire; but for that day he would prove superior both in prowess and in
might. It shot up first- born when the ravening eagle on the rugged flanks
of Caucasus let drip to the earth the blood-like ichor of tortured
Prometheus. And its flower appeared a cubit above ground in colour like
the Corycian crocus, rising on twin stalks; but in the earth the root was
like newly-cut flesh. The dark juice of it, like the sap of a mountain-oak,
she had gathered in a Caspian shell to make the charm withal, when she
had first bathed in seven ever-flowing streams, and had called seven times
on Brimo, nurse of youth, night-wandering Brimo, of the underworld,
queen among the dead, -- in the gloom of night, clad in dusky garments.
And beneath, the dark earth shook and bellowed when the Titanian root
was cut; and the son of Iapetus himself groaned, his soul distraught with
pain. And she brought the charm forth and placed it in the fragrant band
which engirdled her, just beneath her bosom, divinely fair. And going
forth she mounted the swift chariot, and with her went two handmaidens
on each side. And she herself took the reins and in her right hand the
well-fashioned whip, and drove through the city; and the rest, the
handmaids, laid their hands on the chariot behind and ran along the broad
highway; and they kilted up their light robes above their white knees. And
even as by the mild waters of Parthenius, or after bathing in the river
Amnisus, Leto's daughter stands upon her golden chariot and courses
over the hills with her swift-footed roes, to greet from afar some richlysteaming hecatomb; and with her come the nymphs in attendance,
gathering, some at the spring of Amnisus itself, others by the glens and
many-fountained peaks; and round her whine and fawn the beasts
cowering as she moves along: thus they sped through the city; and on
both sides the people gave way, shunning the eyes of the royal maiden.
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[388] But when she had left the city's well paved streets, and was
approaching the shrine as she drove over the plains, then she alighted
eagerly from the smooth- running chariot and spake as follows among her
maidens: "Friends, verily have I sinned greatly and took no heed not to go
among the stranger-folk 1 who roam over our land. The whole city is
smitten with dismay; wherefore no one of the women who formerly
gathered here day by day has now come hither. But since we have come
and no one else draws near, come, let us satisfy our souls without stint
with soothing song, and when we have plucked the fair flowers amid the
tender grass, that very hour will we return. And with many a gift shall ye
reach home this very day, if ye will gladden me with this desire of mine.
For Argus pleads with me, also Chalciope herself; but this that ye hear
from me keep silently in your hearts, lest the tale reach my father's ears.
As for yon stranger who took on him the task with the oxen, they bid me
receive his gifts and rescue him from the deadly contest. And I approved
their counsel, and I have summoned him to come to my presence apart
from his comrades, so that we may divide the gifts among ourselves if he
bring them in his hands, and in return may give him a baleful charm. But
when he comes, do ye stand aloof."
[912] So she spake, and the crafty counsel pleased them all. And
straightway Argus drew Aeson's son apart from his comrades as soon as
he heard from his brothers that Medea had gone at daybreak to the holy
shrine of Hecate, and led him over the plain; and with them went Mopsus,
son of Ampycus, skilled to utter oracles from the appearance of birds, and
skilled to give good counsel to those who set out on a journey.
[919] Never yet had there been such a man in the days of old, neither of
all the heroes of the lineage of Zeus himself, nor of those who sprung
from the blood of the other gods, as on that day the bride of Zeus made
Jason, both to look upon and to hold converse with. Even his comrades
wondered as they gazed upon him, radiant with manifold graces; and the
son of Ampycus rejoiced in their journey, already foreboding how all
would end.
[927] Now by the path along the plain there stands near the shrine a
poplar with its crown of countless leaves, whereon often chattering crows
would roost. One of them meantime as she clapped her wings aloft in the
branches uttered the counsels of Hera: "What a pitiful seer is this, that has
not the wit to conceive even what children know, how that no maiden will
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say a word of sweetness or love to a youth when strangers be near.
Begone, sorry prophet, witless one; on thee neither Cypris nor the gentle
Loves breathe in their kindness."
[938] She spake chiding, and Mopsus smiled to hear the god-sent voice of
the bird, and thus addressed them: "Do thou, son of Aeson, pass on to
the temple, where thou wilt find the maiden; and very kind will her
greeting be to thee through the prompting of Cypris, who will be thy
helpmate in the contest, even as Phineus, Agenor's son, foretold. But we
two, Argus and I, will await thy return, apart in this very spot; do thou all
alone be a suppliant and win her over with prudent words."
[947] He spake wisely, and both at once gave approval. Nor was Medea's
heart turned to other thoughts, for all her singing, and never a song that
she essayed pleased her long in her sport. But in confusion she ever
faltered, nor did she keep her eyes resting quietly upon the throng of her
handmaids; but to the paths far off she strained her gaze, turning her face
aside. Oft did her heart sink fainting within her bosom whenever she
fancied she heard passing by the sound of a footfall or of the wind. But
soon he appeared to her longing eyes, striding along loftily, like Sirius
coming from ocean, which rises fair and clear to see, but brings
unspeakable mischief to flocks; thus then did Aeson's son come to her,
fair to see, but the sight of him brought love-sick care. Her heart fell from
out her bosom, and a dark mist came over her eyes, and a hot blush
covered her cheeks. And she had no strength to lift her knees backwards
or forwards, but her feet beneath were rooted to the ground; and
meantime all her handmaidens had drawn aside. So they two stood face to
face without a word, without a sound, like oaks or lofty pines, which stand
quietly side by side on the mountains when the wind is still; then again,
when stirred by the breath of the wind, they murmur ceaselessly; so they
two were destined to tell out all their tale, stirred by the breath of Love.
[973] And Aeson's son saw that she had fallen into some heaven-sent
calamity, and with soothing words thus addressed her: "Why, pray,
maiden, dost thou fear me so much, all alone as I am? Never was I one of
these idle boasters such as other men are -- not even aforetime, when I
dwelt in my own country. Wherefore, maiden, be not too much abashed
before me, either to enquire whatever thou wilt or to speak thy mind. But
since we have met one another with friendly hearts, in a hallowed spot,
where it is wrong to sin, speak openly and ask questions, and beguile me
not with pleasing words, for at the first thou didst promise thy sister to
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give me the charms my heart desires. I implore thee by Hecate herself, by
thy parents, and by Zeus who holds his guardian hand over strangers and
suppliants; I come here to thee both a suppliant and a stranger, bending
the knee in my sore need. For without thee and thy sister never shall I
prevail in the grievous contest. And to thee will I render thanks hereafter
for thy aid, as is right and fitting for men who dwell far oft, making
glorious thy name and fame; and the rest of the heroes, returning to
Hellas, will spread thy renown and so will the heroes' wives and mothers,
who now perhaps are sitting on the shore and making moan for us; their
painful affliction thou mightest scatter to the winds. In days past the
maiden Ariadne, daughter of Minos, with kindly intent rescued Theseus
from grim contests -- the maiden whom Pasiphae daughter of Helios bare.
But she, when Minos had lulled his wrath to rest, went aboard the ship
with him and left her fatherland; and her even the immortal gods loved,
and, as a sign in mid-sky, a crown of stars, which men call Ariadne's
crown, rolls along all night among the heavenly constellations. So to thee
too shall be thanks from the gods, if thou wilt save so mighty an array of
chieftains. For surely from thy lovely form thou art like to excel in gentle
courtest."
[1008] Thus he spake, honouring her; and she cast her eyes down with a
smile divinely sweet; and her soul melted within her, uplifted by his praise,
and she gazed upon him face to face; nor did she know what word to
utter first, but was eager to pour out everything at once. And forth from
her fragrant girdle ungrudgingly she brought out the charm; and he at
once received it in his hands with joy. And she would even have drawn
out all her soul from her breast and given it to him, exulting in his desire;
so wonderfully did love flash forth a sweet flame from the golden head of
Aeson's son; and he captivated her gleaming eyes; and her heart within
grew warm, melting away as the dew melts away round roses when
warmed by the morning's light. And now both were fixing their eyes on
the ground abashed, and again were throwing glances at each other,
smiling with the light of love beneath their radiant brows.
[1025] And at last and scarcely then did the maiden greet him: "Take heed
now, that I may devise help for thee. When at thy coming my father has
given thee the deadly teeth from the dragon's jaws for sowing, then watch
for the time when the night is parted in twain, then bathe in the stream of
the tireless river, and alone, apart from others, clad in dusky raiment, dig a
rounded pit; and therein slay a ewe, and sacrifice it whole, heaping high
the pyre on the very edge of the pit. And propitiate only-begotten Hecate,
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daughter of Perses, pouring from a goblet the hive-stored labour of bees.
And then, when thou hast heedfully sought the grace of the goddess,
retreat from the pyre; and let neither the sound of feet drive thee to turn
back, nor the baying of hounds, lest haply thou shouldst maim all the rites
and thyself fail to return duly to thy comrades. And at dawn steep this
charm in water, strip, and anoint thy body therewith as with oil; and in it
there will be boundless prowess and mighty strength, and thou wilt deem
thyself a match not for men but for the immortal gods. And besides, let
thy spear and shield and sword be sprinkled. Thereupon the spear-heads
of the earthborn men shall not pierce thee, nor the flame of the deadly
bulls as it rushes forth resistless. But such thou shalt be not for long, but
for that one day; still never flinch from the contest. And I will tell thee
besides of yet another help. As soon as thou hast yoked the strong oxen,
and with thy might and thy prowess hast ploughed all the stubborn fallow,
and now along the furrows the Giants are springing up, when the
serpent's teeth are sown on the dusky clods, if thou markest them uprising
in throngs from the fallow, cast unseen among them a massy stone; and
they over it, like ravening hounds over their food, will slay one another;
and do thou thyself hasten to rush to the battle- strife, and the fleece
thereupon thou shalt bear far away from Aea; nevertheless, depart
wherever thou wilt, or thy pleasure takes thee, when thou hast gone
hence."
[1063] Thus she spake, and cast her eyes to her feet in silence, and her
cheek, divinely fair, was wet with warm tears as she sorrowed for that he
was about to wander far from her side over the wide sea: and once again
she addressed him face to face with mournful words, and took his right
hand; for now shame had left her eyes: "Remember, if haply thou
returnest to thy home, Medea's name; and so will I remember thine,
though thou be far away. And of thy kindness tell me this, where is thy
home, whither wilt thou sail hence in thy ship over the sea; wilt thou
come near wealthy Orchomenus, or near the Aeaean isle? And tell me of
the maiden, whosoever she be that thou hast named, the far-renowned
daughter of Pasiphae, who is kinswoman to my father."
[1077] Thus she spake; and over him too, at the tears of the maiden, stole
Love the destroyer, and he thus answered her: "All too surely do I deem
that never by night and never by day will I forget thee if I escape death
and indeed make my way in safety to the Achaean land, and Aeetes set not
before us some other contest worse than this. And if it pleases thee to
know about my fatherland, I will tell it out; for indeed my own heart bids
me do that. There is a land encircled by lofty mountains, rich in sheep and
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in pasture, where Prometheus, son of Iapetus, begat goodly Deucalion,
who first founded cities and reared temples to the immortal gods, and
first ruled over men. This land the neighbours who dwell around call
Haemonia. And in it stands Iolcus, my city, and in it many others, where
they have not so much as heard the name of the Aeaean isle; yet there is a
story that Minyas starting thence, Minyas son of Aeolus, built long ago the
city of Orchomenus that borders on the Cadmeians. But why do I tell
thee all this vain talk, of our home and of Minos' daughter, far-famed
Ariadne, by which glorious name they called that lovely maiden of whom
thou askest me? Would that, as Minos then was well inclined to Theseus
for her sake, so may thy father be joined to us in friendship!"
[1102] Thus he spake, soothing her with gentle converse. But pangs most
bitter stirred her heart and in grief did she address him with vehement
words: "In Hellas, I ween, this is fair to pay heed to covenants; but Aeetes
is not such a man among men as thou sayest was Pasiphae's husband,
Minos; nor can I liken myself to Ariadne; wherefore speak not of guestlove. But only do thou, when thou hast reached Iolcus, remember me, and
thee even in my parents' despite, will I remember. And from far off may a
rumour come to me or some messenger-bird, when thou forgettest me; or
me, even me, may swift blasts catch up and bear over the sea hence to
Iolcus, that so I may cast reproaches in thy face and remind thee that it
was by my good will thou didst escape. May I then be seated in thy halls,
an unexpected guest!"
[1118] Thus she spake with piteous tears falling down her cheeks, and to
her Jason replied: "Let the empty blasts wander at will, lady, and the
messenger-bird, for vain is thy talk. But if thou comest to those abodes
and to the land of Hellas, honoured and reverenced shalt thou be by
women and men; and they shall worship thee even as a goddess, for that
by thy counsel their sons came home again, their brothers and kinsmen
and stalwart husbands were saved from calamity. And in our bridal
chamber shalt thou prepare our couch; and nothing shall come between
our love till the doom of death fold us round."
[1131] Thus he spake; and her soul melted within her to hear his words;
nevertheless she shuddered to behold the deeds of destruction to come.
Poor wretch! Not long was she destined to refuse a home in Hellas. For
thus Hera devised it, that Aeaean Medea might come to Ioleus for a bane
to Pelias, forsaking her native land.
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[1137] And now her handmaids, glancing at them from a distance, were
grieving in silence; and the time of day required that the maiden should
return home to her mother's side. But she thought not yet of departing,
for her soul delighted both in his beauty and in his winsome words, but
Aeson's son took heed, and spake at last, though late: "It is time to depart,
lest the sunlight sink before we know it, and some stranger notice all; but
again will we come and meet here."
[1146] So did they two make trial of one another thus far with gentle
words; and thereafter parted. Jason hastened to return in joyous mood to
his comrades and the ship, she to her handmaids; and they all together
came near to meet her, but she marked them not at all as they thronged
around. For her soul had soared aloft amid the clouds. And her feet of
their own accord mounted the swift chariot, and with one hand she took
the reins, and with the other the whip of cunning workmanship, to drive
the mules; and they rushed hasting to the city and the palace. And when
she was come Chalciope in grief for her sons questioned her; but Medea,
distraught by swiftly-changing thoughts, neither heard her words nor was
eager to speak in answer to her questions. But she sat upon a low stool at
the foot of her couch, bending down, her cheek leaning on her left hand,
and her eyes were wet with tears as she pondered what an evil deed she
had taken part in by her counsels.
[1163] Now when Aeson's son had joined his comrades again in the spot
where he had left them when he departed, he set out to go with them,
telling them all the story, to the gathering of the heroes; and together they
approached the ship. And when they saw Jason they embraced him and
questioned him. And he told to all the counsels of the maiden and showed
the dread charm; but Idas alone of his comrades sat apart biting down his
wrath; and the rest joyous in heart, at the hour when the darkness of night
stayed them, peacefully took thought for themselves. But at daybreak they
sent two men to go to Aeetes and ask for the seed, first Telamon himself,
dear to Ares, and with him Aethalides, Hermes' famous son. So they went
and made no vain journey; but when they came, lordly Aeetes gave them
for the contest the fell teeth of the Aonian dragon which Cadmus found
in Ogygian Thebes when he came seeking for Europa and there slew the - warder of the spring of Ares. There he settled by the guidance of the
heifer whom Apollo by his prophetic word granted him to lead him on his
way. But the teeth the Tritonian goddess tore away from the dragon's jaws
and bestowed as a gift upon Aeetes and the slayer. And Agenor's son,
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Cadmus, sowed them on the Aonian plains and founded an earthborn
people of all who were left from the spear when Ares did the reaping; and
the teeth Aeetes then readily gave to be borne to the ship, for he deemed
not that Jason would bring the contest to an end, even though he should
cast the yoke upon the oxen.
[1191] Far away in the west the sun was sailing beneath the dark earth,
beyond the furthest hills of the Aethiopians; and Night was laying the
yoke upon her steeds; and the heroes were preparing their beds by the
hawsers. But Jason, as soon as the stars of Heliee, the bright-gleaming
bear, had set, and the air had all grown still under heaven, went to a desert
spot, like some stealthy thief, with all that was needful; for beforehand in
the daytime had he taken thought for everything; and Argus came
bringing a ewe and milk from the flock; and them he took from the ship.
But when the hero saw a place which was far away from the tread of men,
in a clear meadow beneath the open sky, there first of all he bathed his
tender body reverently in the sacred river; and round him he placed a dark
robe, which Hypsipyle of Lemnos had given him aforetime, a memorial of
many a loving embrace. Then he dug a pit in the ground of a cubit's depth
and heaped up billets of wood, and over it he cut the throat of the sheep,
and duly placed the carcase above; and he kindled the logs placing fire
beneath, and poured over them mingled libations, calling on Hecate
Brimo to aid him in the contests. And when he had called on her he drew
back; and she heard him, the dread goddess, from the uttermost depths
and came to the sacrifice of Aeson's son; and round her horrible serpents
twined themselves among the oak boughs; and there was a gleam of
countless torches; and sharply howled around her the hounds of hell. All
the meadows trembled at her step; and the nymphs that haunt the marsh
and the river shrieked, all who dance round that mead of Amarantian
Phasis. And fear seized Aeson's son, but not even so did he turn round as
his feet bore him forth, till he came back to his comrades; and now early
dawn arose and shed her light above snowy Caucasus.
[1225] Then Aeetes arrayed his breast in the stiff corslet which Ares gave
him when he had slain Phlegraean Mimas with his own hands; and upon
his head he placed a golden helmet with four plumes, gleaming like the
sun's round light when he first rises from Ocean. And he wielded his
shield of many hides, and his spear, terrible, resistless; none of the heroes
could have withstood its shock now that they had left behind Heracles far
away, who alone could have met it in battle. For the king his wellfashioned chariot of swift steeds was held near at hand by Phaethon, for
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him to mount; and he mounted, and held the reins in his hands. Then
from the city he drove along the broad highway, that he might be present
at the contest; and with him a countless multitude rushed forth. And as
Poseidon rides, mounted in his chariot, to the Isthmian contest or to
Taenarus, or to Lerna's water, or through the grove of Hyantian
Onchestus, and thereafter passes even to Calaureia with his steeds, and
the Haemonian rock, or well-wooded Geraestus; even so was Aeetes, lord
of the Colchians, to behold.
[1246] Meanwhile, prompted by Medea, Jason steeped the charm in water
and sprinkled with it his shield and sturdy spear, and sword; and his
comrades round him made proof of his weapons with might and main,
but could not bend that spear even a little, but it remained firm in their
stalwart hands unbroken as before. But in furious rage with them Idas,
Aphareus' son, with his great sword hewed at the spear near the butt, and
the edge leapt back repelled by the shock, like a hammer from the anvil;
and the heroes shouted with joy for their hope in the contest. And then
he sprinkled his body, and terrible prowess entered into him, unspeakable,
dauntless; and his hands on both sides thrilled vigorously as they swelled
with strength. And as when a warlike steed eager for the fight neighs and
beats the ground with his hoof, while rejoicing he lifts his neck on high
with ears erect; in such wise did Aeson's son rejoice in the strength of his
limbs. And often hither and thither did he leap high in air tossing in his
hands his shield of bronze and ashen spear. Thou wouldst say that wintry
lightning flashing from the gloomy sky kept on darting forth from the
clouds what time they bring with them their blackest rainstorm. Not long
after that were the heroes to hold back from the contests; but sitting in
rows on their benches they sped swiftly on to the plain of Ares. And it lay
in front of them on the opposite side of the city, as far off as is the
turning-post that a chariot must reach from the starting-point, when the
kinsmen of a dead king appoint funeral games for footmen and horsemen.
And they found Aeetes and the tribes of the Colchians; these were
stationed on the Caucasian heights, but the king by the winding brink of
the river.
[1278] Now Aeson's son, as soon as his comrades had made the hawsers
fast, leapt from the ship, and with spear and shield came forth to the
contest; and at the same time he took the gleaming helmet of bronze filled
with sharp teeth, and his sword girt round his shoulders, his body
stripped, in somewise resembling Ares and in somewise Apollo of the
golden sword. And gazing over the field he saw the bulls' yoke of bronze
and near it the plough, all of one piece, of stubborn adamant. Then he
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came near, and fixed his sturdy spear upright on its butt, and taking his
helmet, off leant it against the spear. And he went forward with shield
alone to examine the countless tracks of the bulls, and they from some
unseen lair beneath the earth, where was their strong steading, wrapt in
murky smoke, both rushed out together, breathing forth flaming fire. And
sore afraid were the heroes at the sight. But Jason, setting wide his feet,
withstood their onset, as in the sea a rocky reef withstands the waves
tossed by the countless blasts. Then in front of him he held his shield; and
both the bulls with loud bellowing attacked him with their mighty horns;
nor did they stir him a jot by their onset. And as when through the holes
of the furnace the armourers' bellows anon gleam brightly, kindling the
ravening flame, and anon cease from blowing, and a terrible roar rises
from the fire when it darts up from below; so the bulls roared, breathing
forth swift flame from their mouths, while the consuming heat played
round him, smiting like lightning; but the maiden's charms protected him.
Then grasping the tip of the horn of the right- hand bull, he dragged it
mightily with all his strength to bring it near the yoke of bronze, and
forced it down on to its knees, suddenly striking with his foot the foot of
bronze. So also he threw the other bull on to its knees as it rushed upon
him, and smote it down with one blow. And throwing to the ground his
broad shield, he held them both down where they had fallen on their foreknees, as he strode from side to side, now here, now there, and rushed
swiftly through the flame. But Aeetes marvelled at the hero's might. And
meantime the sons of Tyndareus for long since had it been thus ordained
for them -- near at hand gave him the yoke from the ground to cast round
them. Then tightly did he bind their necks; and lifting the pole of bronze
between them, he fastened it to the yoke by its golden tip. So the twin
heroes started back from the fire to the ship. But Jason took up again his
shield and cast it on his back behind him, and grasped the strong helmet
filled with sharp teeth, and his resistless spear, wherewith, like some
ploughman with a Pelasgian goad, he pricked the bulls beneath, striking
their flanks; and very firmly did he guide the well fitted plough handle,
fashioned of adamant.
[1326] The bulls meantime raged exceedingly, breathing forth furious
flame of fire; and their breath rose up like the roar of blustering winds, in
fear of which above all seafaring men furl their large sail. But not long
after that they moved on at the bidding of the spear; and behind them the
rugged fallow was broken up, cloven by the might of the bulls and the
sturdy ploughman. Then terribly groaned the clods withal along the
furrows of the plough as they were rent, each a man's burden; and Jason
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followed, pressing down the cornfield with firm foot; and far from him he
ever sowed the teeth along the clods as each was ploughed, turning his
head back for fear lest the deadly crop of earthborn men should rise
against him first; and the bulls toiled onwards treading with their hoofs of
bronze.
[1340] But when the third part of the day was still left as it wanes from
dawn, and wearied labourers call for the sweet hour of unyoking to come
to them straightway, then the fallow was ploughed by the tireless
ploughman, four plough-gates though it was; and he loosed the plough
from the oxen. Them he scared in flight towards the plain; but he went
back again to the ship, while he still saw the furrows free of the earthborn
men. And all round his comrades heartened him with their shouts. And in
the helmet he drew from the river's stream and quenched his thirst with
the water. Then he bent his knees till they grew supple, and filled his
mighty heart with courage, raging like a boar, when it sharpens its teeth
against the hunters, while from its wrathful mouth plenteous foam drips
to the ground. By now the earthborn men were springing up over all the
field; and the plot of Ares, the death-dealer, bristled with sturdy shields
and double-pointed spears and shining helmets; and the gleam reached
Olympus from beneath, flashing through the air. And as when abundant
snow has fallen on the earth and the storm blasts have dispersed the
wintry clouds under the murky night, and all the hosts of the stars appear
shining through the gloom; so did those warriors shine springing up
above the earth. But Jason bethought him of the counsels of Medea full
of craft, and seized from the plain a huge round boulder, a terrible quoit
of Ares Enyalius; four stalwart youths could not have raised it from the
ground even a little. Taking it in his hands he threw it with a rush far away
into their midst; and himself crouched unseen behind his shield, with full
confidence. And the Colchians gave a loud cry, like the roar of the sea
when it beats upon sharp crags; and speechless amazement seized Aeetes
at the rush of the sturdy quoit. And the Earthborn, like fleet-footed
hounds, leaped upon one another and slew with loud yells; and on earth
their mother they fell beneath their own spears, likes pines or oaks, which
storms of wind beat down. And even as a fiery star leaps from heaven,
trailing a furrow of light, a portent to men, whoever see it darting with a
gleam through the dusky sky; in such wise did Aeson's son rush upon the
earthborn men, and he drew from the sheath his bare sword, and smote
here and there, mowing them down, many on the belly and side, half risen
to the air -- and some that had risen as far as the shoulders -- and some
just standing upright, and others even now rushing to battle. And as when
a fight is stirred up concerning boundaries, and a husbandman, in fear lest
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they should ravage his fields, seizes in his hand a curved sickle, newly
sharpened, and hastily cuts the unripe crop, and waits not for it to be
parched in due season by the beams of the sun; so at that time did Jason
cut down the crop of the Earthborn; and the furrows were filled with
blood, as the channels of a spring with water. And they fell, some on their
faces biting the rough clod of earth with their teeth, some on their backs,
and others on their hands and sides, like to sea- monsters to behold. And
many, smitten before raising their feet from the earth, bowed down as far
to the ground as they had risen to the air, and rested there with the damp
of death on their brows. Even so, I ween, when Zeus has sent a
measureless rain, new planted orchard-shoots droop to the ground, cut
off by the root the toil of gardening men; but heaviness of heart and
deadly anguish come to the owner of the farm, who planted them; so at
that time did bitter grief come upon the heart of King Aeetes. And he
went back to the city among the Colchians, pondering how he might most
quickly oppose the heroes. And the day died, and Jason's contest was
ended.
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- BOOK IV -
N
ow do thou thyself, goddess Muse, daughter of Zeus, tell of the
labour and wiles of the Colchian maiden. Surely my soul within
me wavers with speechless amazement as I ponder whether I
should call it the lovesick grief of mad passion or a panic flight, through
which she left the Colchian folk.
[6] Aeetes all night long with the bravest captains of his people was
devising in his halls sheer treachery against the heroes, with fierce wrath in
his heart at the issue of the hateful contest; nor did he deem at all that
these things were being accomplished without the knowledge of his
daughters.
[11] But into Medea's heart Hera cast most grievous fear; and she
trembled like a nimble fawn whom the baying of hounds hath terrified
amid the thicket of a deep copse. For at once she truly forboded that the
aid she had given was not hidden from her father, and that quickly she
would fill up the cup of woe. And she dreaded the guilty knowledge of
her handmaids; her eyes were filled with fire and her ears rung with a
terrible cry. Often did she clutch at her throat, and often did she drag out
her hair by the roots and groan in wretched despair. There on that very
day the maiden would have tasted the drugs and perished and so have
made void the purposes of Hera, had not the goddess driven her, all
bewildered, to flee with the sons of Phrixus; and her fluttering soul within
her was comforted; and then she poured from her bosom all the drugs
back again into the casket. Then she kissed her bed, and the folding-doors
on both sides, and stroked the walls, and tearing away in her hands a long
tress of hair, she left it in the chamber for her mother, a memorial of her
maidenhood, and thus lamented with passionate voice: "I go, leaving this
long tress here in my stead, O mother mine; take this farewell from me as
I go far hence; farewell Chalciope, and all my home. Would that the sea,
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stranger, had dashed thee to pieces, ere thou camest to the Colchian
land!"
[34] Thus she spake, and from her eyes shed copious tears. And as a
bondmaid steals away from a wealthy house, whom fate has lately severed
from her native land, nor yet has she made trial of grievous toil, but still
unschooled to misery and shrinking in terror from slavish tasks, goes
about beneath the cruel hands of a mistress; even so the lovely maiden
rushed forth from her home. But to her the bolts of the doors gave way
self-moved, leaping backwards at the swift strains of her magic song. And
with bare feet she sped along the narrow paths, with her left hand holding
her robe over her brow to veil her face and fair cheeks, and with her right
lifting up the hem of her tunic. Quickly along the dark track, outside the
towers of the spacious city, did she come in fear; nor did any of the
warders note her, but she sped on unseen by them. Thence she was
minded to go to the temple; for well she knew the way, having often
aforetime wandered there in quest of corpses and noxious roots of the
earth, as a sorceress is wont to do; and her soul fluttered with quivering
fear.
[55] And the Titanian goddess, the moon, rising from a far land, beheld
her as she fled distraught, and fiercely exulted over her, and thus spake to
her own heart: "Not I alone then stray to the Latinian cave, nor do I alone
burn with love for fair Endymion; oft times with thoughts of love have I
been driven away by thy crafty spells, in order that in the darkness of
night thou mightest work thy sorcery at ease, even the deeds dear to thee.
And now thou thyself too hast part in a like mad passion; and some god
of affection has given thee Jason to be thy grievous woe. Well, go on, and
steel thy heart, wise though thou be, to take up thy burden of pain,
fraught with many sighs."
[66] Thus spake the goddess; but swiftly the maiden's feet bore her,
hasting on. And gladly did she gain the high-bank of the river and beheld
on the opposite side the gleam of fire, which all night long the heroes
were kindling in joy at the contest's issue. Then through the gloom, with
clear-pealing voice from across the stream, she called on Phrontis, the
youngest of Phrixus' sons, and he with his brothers and Aeson's son
recognised the maiden's voice; and in silence his comrades wondered
when they knew that it was so in truth. Thrice she called, and thrice at the
bidding of the company Phrontis called out in reply; and meantime the
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heroes were rowing with swift- moving oars in search of her. Not yet were
they casting the ship's hawsers upon the opposite bank, when Jason with
light feet leapt to land from the deck above, and after him Phrontis and
Argus, sons of Phrixus, leapt to the ground; and she, clasping their knees
with both hands, thus addressed them: "Save me, the hapless one, my
friends, from Aeetes, and yourselves too, for all is brought to light, nor
doth any remedy come. But let us flee upon the ship, before the king
mounts his swift chariot. And I will lull to sleep the guardian serpent and
give you the fleece of gold; but do thou, stranger, amid thy comrades
make the gods witness of the vows thou hast taken on thyself for my sake;
and now that I have fled far from my country, make me not a mark for
blame and dishonour for want of kinsmen."
[92] She spake in anguish; but greatly did the heart of Aeson's son rejoice,
and at once, as she fell at his knees, he raised her gently and embraced
her, and spake words of comfort: "Lady, let Zeus of Olympus himself be
witness to my oath, and Hera, queen of marriage, bride of Zeus, that I will
set thee in my halls my own wedded wife, when we have reached the land
of Hellas on our return."
[99] Thus he spake, and straightway clasped her right hand in his; and she
bade them row the swift ship to the sacred grove near at hand, in order
that, while it was still night, they might seize and carry off the fleece
against the will of Aeetes. Word and deed were one to the eager crew. For
they took her on board, and straightway thrust the ship from shore; and
loud was the din as the chieftains strained at their oars, but she, starting
back, held out her hands in despair towards the shore. But Jason spoke
cheering words and restrained her grief.
[109] Now at the hour when men have cast sleep from their
eyes~huntsmen, who, trusting to their bounds, never slumber away the
end of night, but avoid the light of dawn lest, smiting with its white
beams, it efface the track and scent of the quarry -- then did Aeson's son
and the maiden step forth from the ship over a grassy spot, the "Ram's
couch" as men call it, where it first bent its wearied knees in rest, bearing
on its back the Minyan son of Athamas. And close by, all smirched with
soot, was the base of the altar, which the Aeolid Phrixus once set up to
Zeus, the alder of fugitives, when he sacrificed the golden wonder at the
bidding of Hermes who graciously met him on the way. There by the
counsels of Argus the chieftains put them ashore.
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[123] And they two by the pathway came to the sacred grove, seeking the
huge oak tree on which was hung the fleece, like to a cloud that blushes
red with the fiery beams of the rising sun. But right in front the serpent
with his keen sleepless eyes saw them coming, and stretched out his long
neck and hissed in awful wise; and all round the long banks of the river
echoed and the boundless grove. Those heard it who dwelt in the
Colchian land very far from Titanian Aea, near the outfall of Lycus, the
river which parts from loud-roaring Araxes and blends his sacred stream
with Phasis, and they twain flow on together in one and pour their waters
into the Caucasian Sea. And through fear young mothers awoke, and
round their new-born babes, who were sleeping in their arms, threw their
hands in agony, for the small limbs started at that hiss. And as when
above a pile of smouldering wood countless eddies of smoke roll up
mingled with soot, and one ever springs up quickly after another, rising
aloft from beneath in wavering wreaths; so at that time did that monster
roll his countless coils covered with hard dry scales. And as he writhed,
the maiden came before his eyes, with sweet voice calling to her aid sleep,
highest of gods, to charm the monster; and she cried to the queen of the
underworld, the night-wanderer, to be propitious to her enterprise. And
Aeson's son followed in fear, but the serpent, already charmed by her
song, was relaxing the long ridge of his giant spine, and lengthening out
his myriad coils, like a dark wave, dumb and noiseless, rolling over a
sluggish sea; but still he raised aloft his grisly head, eager to enclose them
both in his murderous jaws. But she with a newly cut spray of juniper,
dipping and drawing untempered charms from her mystic brew, sprinkled
his eyes, while she chanted her song; and all around the potent scent of
the charm cast sleep; and on the very spot he let his jaw sink down; and
far behind through the wood with its many trees were those countless
coils stretched out.
[162] Hereupon Jason snatched the golden fleece from the oak, at the
maiden bidding; and she, standing firm, smeared with the charm the
monster's head, till Jason himself bade her turn back towards their ship,
and she left the grove of Ares, dusky with shade. And as a maiden catches
on her finely wrought robe the gleam of the moon at the full, as it rises
above her high-roofed chamber; and her heart rejoices as she beholds the
fair ray; so at that time did Jason uplift the mighty fleece in his hands; and
from the shimmering of the flocks of wool there settled on his fair cheeks
and brow a red flush like a flame. And great as is the hide of a yearling ox
or stag, which huntsmen call a brocket, so great in extent was the fleece all
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golden above. Heavy it was, thickly clustered with flocks; and as he
moved along, even beneath his feet the sheen rose up from the earth. And
he strode on now with the fleece covering his left shoulder from the
height of his neck to his feet, and now again he gathered it up in his
hands; for he feared exceedingly, lest some god or man should meet him
and deprive him thereof.
[183] Dawn was spreading over the earth when they reached the throng of
heroes; and the youths marvelled to behold the mighty fleece, which
gleamed like the lightning of Zeus. And each one started up eager to
touch it and clasp it in his hands. But the son of Aeson restrained them
all, and threw over it a mantle newly-woven; and he led the maiden to the
stern and seated her there, and spake to them all as follows: "No longer
now, my friends, forbear to return to your fatherland. For now the task
for which we dared this grievous voyage, toiling with bitter sorrow of
heart, has been lightly fulfilled by the maiden's counsels. Her -- for such is
her will -- I will bring home to be my wedded wife; do ye preserve her, the
glorious saviour of all Achaea and of yourselves. For of a surety, I ween,
will Aeetes come with his host to bar our passage from the river into the
sea. But do some of you toil at the oars in turn, sitting man by man; and
half of you raise your shields of oxhide, a ready defence against the darts
of the enemy, and guard our return. And now in our hands we hold the
fate of our children and dear country and of our aged parents; and on our
venture all Hellas depends, to reap either the shame of failure or great
renown."
[206] Thus he spake, and donned his armour of war; and they cried aloud,
wondrously eager. And he drew his sword from the sheath and cut the
hawsers at the stern. And near the maiden he took his stand ready armed
by the steersman Aneaeus, and with their rowing the ship sped on as they
strained desperately to drive her clear of the river.
[212] By this time Medea's love and deeds had become known to haughty
Aeetes and to all the Colchians. And they thronged to the assembly in
arms; and countless as the waves of the stormy sea when they rise crested
by the wind, or as the leaves that fall to the ground from the wood with
its myriad branches in the month when the leaves fall -- who could reckon
their tale? -- so they in countless number poured along the banks of the
river shouting in frenzy; and in his shapely chariot Aeetes shone forth
above all with his steeds, the gift of Helios, swift as the blasts of the wind.
In his left hand he raised his curved shield, and in his right a huge pine312
torch, and near him in front stood up his mighty spear. And Apsyrtus
held in his hands the reins of the steeds. But already the ship was cleaving
the sea before her, urged on by stalwart oarsmen, and the stream of the
mighty river rushing down. But the king in grievous anguish lifted his
hands and called on Helios and Zeus to bear witness to their evil deeds;
and terrible threats he uttered against all his people, that unless they
should with their own hands seize the maiden, either on the land or still
finding the ship on the swell of the open sea, and bring her back, that so
he might satisfy his eager soul with vengeance for all those deeds, at the
cost of their own lives they should learn and abide all his rage and
revenge.
[236] Thus spake Aeetes; and on that same day the Colchians launched
their ships and cast the tackle on board, and on that same day sailed forth
on the sea; thou wouldst not say so mighty a host was a fleet of ships, but
that a countless flight of birds, swarm on swarm, was clamouring over the
sea.
[241] Swiftly the wind blew, as the goddess Hera planned, so that most
quickly Aeaean Medea might reach the Pelasgian land, a bane to the house
of Pelias, and on the third morn they bound the ship's stern cables to the
shores of the Paphlagonians, at the mouth of the river Halys. For Medea
bade them land and propitiate Hecate with sacrifice. Now all that the
maiden prepared for offering the sacrifice may no man know, and may my
soul not urge me to sing thereof. Awe restrains my lips, yet from that time
the altar which the heroes raised on the beach to the goddess remains till
now, a sight to men of a later day.
[253] And straightway Aeson's son and the rest of the heroes bethought
them of Phineus, how that he had said that their course from Aea should
be different, but to all alike his meaning was dim. Then Argus spake, and
they eagerly hearkened: "We go to Orchomenus, whither that unerring
seer, whom ye met aforetime, foretold your voyage. For there is another
course, signified by those priests of the immortal gods, who have sprung
from Tritonian Thebes. As yet all the stars that wheel in the heaven were
not, nor yet, though one should inquire, could aught be heard of the
sacred race of the Danai. Apidanean Arcadians alone existed, Arcadians
who lived even before the moon, it is said, eating acorns on the hills; nor
at that time was the Pelasgian land ruled by the glorious sons of
Deucalion, in the days when Egypt, mother of men of an older time, was
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called the fertile Morning-land, and the river fair-flowing Triton, by which
all the Morning-land is watered; and never does the rain from Zeus
moisten the earth; but from the flooding of the river abundant crops
spring up. From this land, it is said, a king made his way all round through
the whole of Europe and Asia, trusting in the might and strength and
courage of his people; and countless cities did he found wherever he
came, whereof some are still inhabited and some not; many an age hath
passed since then. But Aea abides unshaken even now and the sons of
those men whom that king settled to dwell in Aea. They preserve the
writings of their fathers, graven on pillars, whereon are marked all the
ways and the limits of sea and land as ye journey on all sides round. There
is a river, the uttermost horn of Ocean, broad and exceeding deep, that a
merchant ship may traverse; they call it Ister and have marked it far off;
and for a while it cleaves the boundless tilth alone in one stream; for
beyond the blasts of the north wind, far off in the Rhipaean mountains,
its springs burst forth with a roar. But when it enters the boundaries of
the Thracians and Scythians, here, dividing its stream into two, it sends its
waters partly into the Ionian sea, and partly to the south into a deep gulf
that bends upwards from the Trinaerian sea, that sea which lies along your
land, if indeed Achelous flows forth from your land."
[204] Thus he spake, and to them the goddess granted a happy portent,
and all at the sight shouted approval, that this was their appointed path.
For before them appeared a trail of heavenly light, a sign where they
might pass. And gladly they left behind there the son of Lyeus and with
canvas outspread sailed over the sea, with their eyes on the Paphlagonian
mountains. But they did not round Carambis, for the winds and the gleam
of the heavenly fire stayed with them till they reached Ister's mighty
stream.
[303] Now some of the Colchians, in a vain search, passed out from
Pontus through the Cyanean rocks; but the rest went to the river, and
them Apsyrtus led, and, turning aside, he entered the mouth called Fair.
Wherefore he outstripped the heroes by crossing a neck of land into the
furthest gulf of the Ionian sea. For a certain island is enclosed by Ister, by
name Peuee, three-cornered, its base stretching along the coast, and with a
sharp angle towards the river; and round it the outfall is cleft in two. One
mouth they call the mouth of Narex, and the other, at the lower end, the
Fair mouth. And through this Apsyrtus and his Colchians rushed with all
speed; but the heroes went upwards far away towards the highest part of
the island. And in the meadows the country shepherds left their countless
flocks for dread of the ships, for they deemed that they were beasts
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coming forth from the monster-teeming sea. For never yet before had
they seen seafaring ships, neither the Scythians mingled with the
Thracians, nor the Sigynni, nor yet the Graucenii, nor the Sindi that now
inhabit the vast desert plain of Laurium. But when they had passed near
the mount Angurum, and the cliff of Cauliacus, far from the mount
Angurum, round which Ister, dividing his stream, falls into the sea on this
side and on that, and the Laurian plain, then indeed the Colchians went
forth into the Cronian sea and cut off all the ways, to prevent their foes'
escape. And the heroes came down the river behind and reached the two
Brygean isles of Artemis near at hand. Now in one of them was a sacred
temple; and on the other they landed, avoiding the host of Apsyrtus; for
the Colchians had left these islands out of many within the river, just as
they were, through reverence for the daughter of Zeus; but the rest,
thronged by the Colchians, barred the ways to the sea. And so on other
islands too, close by, Apsyrtus left his host as far as the river Salangon and
the Nestian land.
[338] There the Minyae would at that time have yielded in grim fight, a
few to many; but ere then they made a covenant, shunning a dire quarrel;
as to the golden fleece, that since Aeetes himself had so promised them if
they should fulfill the contests, they should keep it as justly won, whether
they carried it off by craft or even openly in the king's despite; but as to
Medea -- for that was the cause of strife -- that they should give her in
ward to Leto's daughter apart from the throng, until some one of the
kings that dispense justice should utter his doom, whether she must return
to her father's home or follow the chieftains to the land of Hellas.
[350] Now when the maiden had mused upon all this, sharp anguish
shook her heart unceasingly; and quickly she called forth Jason alone apart
from his comrades, and led him aside until they were far away, and before
his face uttered her speech all broken with sobs: "What is this purpose
that ye are now devising about me, O son of Aeson? Has thy triumph
utterly cast forgetfulness upon thee, and reekest thou nothing of all that
thou spakest when held fast by necessity? Whither are fled the oaths by
Zeus the suppliants' god, whither are fled thy honied promises? For which
in no seemly wise, with shameless will, I have left my country, the glories
of my home and even my parents -- things that were dearest to me; and
far away all alone I am borne over the sea with the plaintive kingfishers
because of thy trouble, in order that I might save thy life in fulfilling the
contests with the oxen and the earthborn men. Last of all the fleece -when the matter became known, it was by my folly thou didst win it; and
315
a foul reproach have I poured on womankind. Wherefore I say that as thy
child, thy bride and thy sister, I follow thee to the land of Hellas. Be ready
to stand by me to the end, abandon me not left forlorn of thee when thou
dost visit the kings. But only save me; let justice and right, to which we
have both agreed, stand firm; or else do thou at once shear through this
neck with the sword, that I may gain the guerdon due to my mad passion.
Poor wretch! if the king, to whom you both commit your cruel covenant,
doom me to belong to my brother. How shall I come to my father's sight?
Will it be with a good name? What revenge, what heavy calamity shall I
not endure in agony for the terrible deeds I have done? And wilt thou win
the return that thy heart desires? Never may Zeus' bride, the queen of all,
in whom thou dost glory, bring that to pass. Mayst thou some time
remember me when thou art racked with anguish; may the fleece like a
dream vanish into the nether darkness on the wings of the wind! And may
my avenging Furies forthwith drive thee from thy country, for all that I
have suffered through thy cruelty! These curses will not be allowed to fall
unaccomplished to the ground. A mighty oath hast thou transgressed,
ruthless one; but not long shalt thou and thy comrades sit at ease casting
eyes of mockery upon me, for all your covenants."
[391] Thus she spake, seething with fierce wrath; and she longed to set fire
to the ship and to hew it utterly in pieces, and herself to fall into the
raging flame. But Jason, half afraid, thus addressed her with gentle words:
"Forbear, lady; me too this pleases not. But we seek some respite from
battle, for such a cloud of hostile men, like to a fire, surrounds us, on thy
account. For all that inhabit this land are eager to aid Apsyrtus, that they
may lead thee back home to thy father, like some captured maid. And all
of us would perish in hateful destruction, if we closed with them in fight;
and bitterer still will be the pain, if we are slain and leave thee to be their
prey. But this covenant will weave a web of guile to lead him to ruin. Nor
will the people of the land for thy sake oppose us, to favour the
Colchians, when their prince is no longer with them, who is thy champion
and thy brother; nor will I shrink from matching myself in fight with the
Colchians, if they bar my way homeward."
[410] Thus he spake soothing her; and she uttered a deadly speech: "Take
heed now. For when sorry deeds are done we must needs devise sorry
counsel, since at first I was distraught by my error, and by heaven's will it
was I wrought the accomplishment of evil desires. Do thou in the turmoil
shield me from the Colchians' spears; and I will beguile Apsyrtus to come
into thy hands -- do thou greet him with splendid gifts -- if only I could
persuade the heralds on their departure to bring him alone to hearken to
316
my words. Thereupon if this deed pleases thee, slay him and raise a
conflict with the Colchians, I care not.
[421] So they two agreed and prepared a great web of guile for Apsyrtus,
and provided many gifts such as are due to guests, and among them gave
a sacred robe of Hypsipyle, of crimson hue. The Graces with their own
hands had wrought it for Dionysus in sea-girt Dia, and he gave it to his
son Thoas thereafter, and Thoas left it to Hypsipyle, and she gave that
fair-wrought guest-gift with many another marvel to Aeson's son to wear.
Never couldst thou satisfy thy sweet desire by touching it or gazing on it.
And from it a divine fragrance breathed from the time when the king of
Nysa himself lay to rest thereon, flushed with wine and nectar as he
clasped the beauteous breast of the maiden-daughter of Minos, whom
once Theseus forsook in the island of Dia, when she had followed him
from Cnossus. And when she had worked upon the heralds to induce her
brother to come, as soon as she reached the temple of the goddess,
according to the agreement, and the darkness of night surrounded them,
that so she might devise with him a cunning plan for her to take the
mighty fleece of gold and return to the home of Aeetes, for, she said, the
sons of Phrixus had given her by force to the strangers to carry off; with
such beguiling words she scattered to the air and the breezes her witching
charms, which even from afar would have drawn down the savage beast
from the steep mountain-height.
[445] Ruthless Love, great bane, great curse to mankind, from thee come
deadly strifes and lamentations and groans, and countless pains as well
have their stormy birth from thee. Arise, thou god, and arm thyself against
the sons of our foes in such guise as when thou didst fill Medea's heart
with accursed madness. How then by evil doom did she slay Apsyrtus
when he came to meet her? For that must our song tell next.
[452] When the heroes had left the maiden on the island of Artemis,
according to the covenant, both sides ran their ships to land separately.
And Jason went to the ambush to lie in wait for Apsyrtus and then for his
comrades. But he, beguiled by these dire promises, swiftly crossed the
swell of the sea in his ship, and in dark night set foot on the sacred island;
and faring all alone to meet her he made trial in speech of his sister, as a
tender child tries a wintry torrent which not even strong men can pass
through, to see if she would devise some guile against the strangers. And
so they two agreed together on everything; and straightway Aeson's son
317
leapt forth from the thick ambush, lifting his bare sword in his hand; and
quickly the maiden turned her eyes aside and covered them with her veil
that she might not see the blood of her brother when he was smitten. And
Jason marked him and struck him down, as a butcher strikes down a
mighty strong-horned bull, hard by the temple which the Brygi on the
mainland opposite had once built for Artemis. In its vestibule he fell on
his knees; and at last the hero breathing out his life caught up in both
hands the dark blood as it welled from the wound; and he dyed with red
his sister's silvery veil and robe as she shrank away. And with swift sideglance the irresistible pitiless Fury beheld the deadly deed they had done.
And the hero, Aeson's son, cut off the extremities of the dead man, and
thrice licked up some blood and thrice spat the pollution from his teeth,
as it is right for the slayer to do, to atone for a treacherous murder. And
the clammy corpse he hid in the ground where even now those bones lie
among the Apsyrtians.
[481] Now as soon as the heroes saw the blaze of a torch, which the
maiden raised for them as a sign to pursue, they laid their own ship near
the Colchian ship, and they slaughtered the Colchian host, as kites slay the
tribes of wood-pigeons, or as lions of the wold, when they have leapt
amid the steading, drive a great flock of sheep huddled together. Nor did
one of them escape death, but the heroes rushed upon the whole crew,
destroying them like a flame; and at last Jason met them, and was eager to
give aid where none was needed; but already they were taking thought for
him too. Thereupon they sat to devise some prudent counsel for their
voyage, and the maiden came upon them as they pondered, but Peleus
spake his word first: "I now bid you embark while it is still night, and take
with your oars the passage opposite to that which the enemy guards, for at
dawn when they see their plight I deem that no word urging to further
pursuit of us will prevail with them; but as people bereft of their king,
they will be scattered in grievous dissension. And easy, when the people
are scattered, will this path be for us on our return."
[503] Thus he spake; and the youths assented to the words of Aeacus' son.
And quickly they entered the ship, and toiled at their oars unceasingly
until they reached the sacred isle of Electra, the highest of them all, near
the river Eridanus.
[507] But when the Colchians learnt the death of their prince, verily they
were eager to pursue Argo and the Minyans through all the Cronian sea.
But Hera restrained them by terrible lightnings from the sky. And at last
318
they loathed their own homes in the Cytaean land, quailing before Aeetes'
fierce wrath; so they landed and made abiding homes there, scattered far
and wide. Some set foot on those very islands where the heroes had
stayed, and they still dwell there, bearing a name derived from Apsyrtus;
and others built a fenced city by the dark deep Illyrian river, where is the
tomb of Harmonia and Cadmus, dwelling among the Encheleans; and
others live amid the mountains which are called the Thunderers, from the
day when the thunders of Zeus, son of Cronos, prevented them from
crossing over to the island opposite.
[522] Now the heroes, when their return seemed safe for them, fared
onward and made their hawsers fast to the land of the Hylleans. For the
islands lay thick in the river and made the path dangerous for those who
sailed thereby. Nor, as aforetime, did the Hylleans devise their hurt, but of
their own accord furthered their passage, winning as guerdon a mighty
tripod of Apollo. For tripods twain had Phoebus given to Aeson's son to
carry afar in the voyage he had to make, at the time when he went to
sacred Pytho to enquire about this very voyage; and it was ordained by
fate that in whatever land they should be placed, that land should never be
ravaged by the attacks of foemen. Therefore even now this tripod is
hidden in that land near the pleasant city of Hyllus, far beneath the earth,
that it may ever be unseen by mortals. Yet they found not King Hyllus
still alive in the land, whom fair Melite bare to Heracles in the land of the
Phaeacians. For he came to the abode of Nausithous and to Macris, the
nurse of Dionysus, to cleanse himself from the deadly murder of his
children; here he loved and overcame the water nymph Melite, the
daughter of the river Aegaeus, and she bare mighty Hyllus. But when he
had grown up he desired not to dwell in that island under the rule of
Nausithous the king; but he collected a host of native Phaeacians and
came to the Cronian sea; for the hero King Nausithous aided his journey,
and there he settled, and the Mentores slew him as he was fighting for the
oxen of his field.
[552] Now, goddesses, say how it is that beyond this sea, near the land of
Ausonia and the Ligystian isles, which are called Stoechades, the mighty
tracks of the ship Argo are clearly sung of? What great constraint and
need brought the heroes so far? What breezes wafted them?
[557] When Apsyrtus had fallen in mighty overthrow Zeus himself, king
of gods, was seized with wrath at what they had done. And he ordained
319
that by the counsels of Aeaean Circe they should cleanse themselves from
the terrible stain of blood and suffer countless woes before their return.
Yet none of the chieftains knew this; but far onward they sped starting
from the Hyllean land, and they left behind all the islands that were
beforetime thronged by the Colchians -- the Liburnian isles, isle after isle,
Issa, Dysceladus, and lovely Pityeia. Next after them they came to
Corcyra, where Poseidon settled the daughter of Asopus, fair-haired
Corcyra, far from the land of Phlius, whence he had carried her off
through love; and sailors beholding it from the sea, all black with its
sombre woods, call it Corcyra the Black. And next they passed Melite,
rejoicing in the soft-blowing breeze, and steep Cerossus, and Nymphaea
at a distance, where lady Calypso, daughter of Atlas, dwelt; and they
deemed they saw the misty mountains of Thunder. And then Hera
bethought her of the counsels and wrath of Zeus concerning them. And
she devised an ending of their voyage and stirred up storm-winds before
them, by which they were caught and borne back to the rocky isle of
Electra. And straightway on a sudden there called to them in the midst of
their course, speaking with a human voice, the beam of the hollow ship,
which Athena had set in the centre of the stem, made of Dodonian oak.
And deadly fear seized them as they heard the voice that told of the
grievous wrath of Zeus. For it proclaimed that they should not escape the
paths of an endless sea nor grievous tempests, unless Circe should purge
away the guilt of the ruthless murder of Apsyrtus; and it bade Polydeuces
and Castor pray to the immortal gods first to grant a path through the
Ausonian sea where they should find Circe, daughter of Perse and Helios.
[592] Thus Argo cried through the darkness; and the sons of Tyndareus
uprose, and lifted their hands to the immortals praying for each boon: but
dejection held the rest of the Minyan heroes. And far on sped Argo under
sail, and entered deep into the stream of Eridanus; where once, smitten on
the breast by the blazing bolt, Phaethon half-consumed fell from the
chariot of Helios into the opening of that deep lake; and even now it
belcheth up heavy steam clouds from the smouldering wound. And no
bird spreading its light wings can cross that water; but in mid-course it
plunges into the flame, fluttering. And all around the maidens, the
daughters of Helios, enclosed in tall poplars, wretchedly wail a piteous
plaint; and from their eyes they shed on the ground bright drops of
amber. These are dried by the sun upon the sand; but whenever the
waters of the dark lake flow over the strand before the blast of the wailing
wind, then they roll on in a mass into Eridanus with swelling tide. But the
Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's
son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he
320
shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and
left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning
his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of
Amyrus. And such is the story told among these men. But no desire for
food or drink seized the heroes nor were their thoughts turned to joy. But
they were sorely afflicted all day, heavy and faint at heart, with the
noisome stench, hard to endure, which the streams of Eridanus sent forth
from Phaethon still burning; and at night they heard the piercing lament
of the daughters of Helios, wailing with shrill voice; and, as they lamented,
their tears were borne on the water like drops of oil.
[627] Thence they entered the deep stream of Rhodanus which flows into
Eridanus; and where they meet there is a roar of mingling waters. Now
that river, rising from the ends of the earth, where are the portals and
mansions of Night, on one side bursts forth upon the beach of Ocean, at
another pours into the Ionian sea, and on the third through seven mouths
sends its stream to the Sardinian sea and its limitless bay. And from
Rhodanus they entered stormy lakes, which spread throughout the Celtic
mainland of wondrous size; and there they would have met with an
inglorious calamity; for a certain branch of the river was bearing them
towards a gulf of Ocean which in ignorance they were about to enter, and
never would they have returned from there in safety. But Hera leaping
forth from heaven pealed her cry from the Hercynian rock; and all
together were shaken with fear of her cry; for terribly crashed the mighty
firmament. And backward they turned by reason of the goddess, and
noted the path by which their return was ordained. And after a long while
they came to the beach of the surging sea by the devising of Hera, passing
unharmed through countless tribes of the Celts and Ligyans. For round
them the goddess poured a dread mist day by day as they fared on. And
so, sailing through the midmost mouth, they reached the Stoechades
islands in safety by the aid of the sons of Zeus; wherefore altars and
sacred rites are established in their honour for ever; and not that seafaring alone did they attend to succour; but Zeus granted to them the
ships of future sailors too. Then leaving the Stoechades they passed on to
the island Aethalia, where after their toil they wiped away with pebbles
sweat in abundance; and pebbles like skin in colour are strewn on the
beach; and there are their quoits and their wondrous armour; and there is
the Argoan harbour called after them.
[659] And quickly from there they passed through the sea, beholding the
Tyrrhenian shores of Ausonia; and they came to the famous harbour of
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Aeaea, and from the ship they cast hawsers to the shore near at hand. And
here they found Circe bathing her head in the salt sea-spray, for sorely had
she been scared by visions of the night. With blood her chambers and all
the walls of her palace seemed to be running, and flame was devouring all
the magic herbs with which she used to bewitch strangers whoever came;
and she herself with murderous blood quenched the glowing flame,
drawing it up in her hands; and she ceased from deadly fear. Wherefore
when morning came she rose, and with sea-spray was bathing her hair and
her garments. And beasts, not resembling the beasts of the wild, nor yet
like men in body, but with a medley of limbs, went in a throng, as sheep
from the fold in multitudes follow the shepherd. Such creatures,
compacted of various limbs, did each herself produce from the primeval
slime when she had not yet grown solid beneath a rainless sky nor yet had
received a drop of moisture from the rays of the scorching sun; but time
combined these forms and marshalled them in their ranks; in such wise
these monsters shapeless of form followed her. And exceeding wonder
seized the heroes, and at once, as each gazed on the form and face of
Circe, they readily guessed that she was the sister of Aeetes.
[685] Now when she had dismissed the fears of her nightly visions,
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
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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.
[718] 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."
[749] 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.
[753] 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
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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 seabeaches 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."
[770] 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, 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
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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, 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."
[833] 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."
[842] 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
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together to draw your ship through the midst of the rocks which are
called Planctae, 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."
[865] 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.
[885] 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 with Achelous; and once they
tended Demeter's noble daughter still unwed, and sang to her in chorus;
and at that time they were fashioned in part like birds and in part like
maidens to behold. And ever on the watch from their place of prospect
with its fair haven, often from many had they taken away their sweet
return, consuming them with wasting desire; and suddenly to the heroes,
too, they sent forth from their lips a lily-like voice. And they were already
about to cast from the ship the hawsers to the shore, had not Thracian
Orpheus, son of Oeagrus, stringing in his hands his Bistonian lyre, rung
forth the hasty snatch of a rippling melody so that their ears might be
filled with the sound of his twanging; and the lyre overcame the maidens'
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voice. And the west wind and the sounding wave rushing astern bore the
ship on; and the Sirens kept uttering their ceaseless song. But even so the
goodly son of Teleon alone of the comrades leapt before them all from
the polished bench into the sea, even Butes, his soul melted by the clear
ringing voice of the Sirens; and he swam through the dark surge to mount
the beach, poor wretch. Quickly would they have robbed him of his
return then and there, but the goddess that rules Eryx, Cypris, in pity
snatched him away, while yet in the eddies, and graciously meeting him
saved him to dwell on the Lilybean height. And the heroes, seized by
anguish, left the Sirens, but other perils still worse, destructive to ships,
awaited them in the meeting-place of the seas.
[922] For on one side appeared the smooth rock of Scylla; on the other
Charybdis ceaselessly spouted and roared; in another part the Wandering
rocks were booming beneath the mighty surge, where before the burning
flame spurted forth from the top of the crags, above the rock glowing
with fire, and the air was misty with smoke, nor could you have seen the
sun's light. Then, though Hephaestus had ceased from his toils, the sea
was still sending up a warm vapour. Hereupon on this side and on that
the daughters of Nereus met them; and behind, lady Thetis set her hand
to the rudder-blade, to guide them amid the Wandering rocks. And as
when in fair weather herds of dolphins come up from the depths and
sport in circles round a ship as it speeds along, now seen in front, now
behind, now again at the side and delight comes to the sailors; so the
Nereids darted upward and circled in their ranks round the ship Argo,
while Thetis guided its course. And when they were about to touch the
Wandering rocks, straightway they raised the edge of their garments over
their snow-white knees, and aloft, on the very rocks and where the waves
broke, they hurried along on this side and on that apart from one another.
And the ship was raised aloft as the current smote her, and all around the
furious wave mounting up broke over the rocks, which at one time
touched the sky like towering crags, at another, down in the depths, were
fixed fast at the bottom of the sea and the fierce waves poured over them
in floods. And the Nereids, even as maidens near some sandy beach roll
their garments up to their waists out of their way and sport with a
shapely-rounded ball; then they catch it one from another and send it high
into the air; and it never touches the ground; so they in turn one from
another sent the ship through the air over the waves, as it sped on ever
away from the rocks; and round them the water spouted and foamed. And
lord Hephaestus himself standing on the summit of a smooth rock and
resting his massy shoulder on the handle of his hammer, beheld them, and
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the spouse of Zeus beheld them as she stood above the gleaming heaven;
and she threw her arms round Athena, such fear seized her as she gazed.
And as long as the space of a day is lengthened out in springtime, so long
a time did they toil, heaving the ship between the loud-echoing rocks;
then again the heroes caught the wind and sped onward; and swiftly they
passed the mead of Thrinacia, where the kine of Helios fed. There the
nymphs, like sea-mews, plunged beneath the depths, when they had
fulfilled the behests of the spouse of Zeus. And at the same time the
bleating of sheep came to the heroes through the mist and the lowing of
kine, near at hand, smote their ears. And over the dewy leas Phaethusa,
the youngest of the daughters of Helios, tended the sheep, bearing in her
hand a silver crook; while Lampetia, herding the kine, wielded a staff of
glowing orichalcum as she followed. These kine the heroes saw feeding by
the river's stream, over the plain and the water-meadow; not one of them
was dark in hue but all were white as milk and glorying in their horns of
gold. So they passed them by in the day-time, and when night came on
they were cleaving a great sea-gulf, rejoicing, until again early rising dawn
threw light upon their course.
[982] Fronting the Ionian gulf there lies an island in the Ceraunian sea,
rich in soil, with a harbour on both sides, beneath which lies the sickle, as
legend saith -- grant me grace, O Muses, not willingly do I tell this tale of
olden days -- wherewith Cronos pitilessly mutilated his father; but others
call it the reaping-hook of Demeter, goddess of the nether world. For
Demeter once dwelt in that island, and taught the Titans to reap the ears
of corn, all for the love of Macris. Whence it is called Drepane, the sacred
nurse of the Phaeacians; and thus the Phaeacians themselves are by birth
of the blood of Uranus. To them came Argo, held fast by many toils,
borne by the breezes from the Thrinacian sea; and Alcinous and his
people with kindly sacrifice gladly welcomed their coming; and over them
all the city made merry; thou wouldst say they were rejoicing over their
own sons. And the heroes themselves strode in gladness through the
throng, even as though they had set foot in the heart of Haemonia; but
soon were they to arm and raise the battle-cry; so near to them appeared a
boundless host of Colchians, who had passed through the mouth of
Pontus and between the Cyanean rocks in search of the chieftains. They
desired forthwith to carry off Medea to her father's house apart from the
rest, or else they threatened with fierce cruelty to raise the dread war-cry
both then and thereafter on the coming of Aeetes. But lordly Alcinous
checked them amid their eagerness for war. For he longed to allay the
lawless strife between both sides without the clash of battle. And the
maiden in deadly fear often implored the comrades of Aeson's son, and
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often with her hands touched the knees of Arete, the bride of Alcinous: "I
beseech thee, O queen, be gracious and deliver me not to the Colchians to
be borne to my father, if thou thyself too art one of the race of mortals,
whose heart rushes swiftly to ruin from light transgressions. For my firm
sense forsook me -- it was not for wantonness. Be witness the sacred light
of Helios, be witness the rites of the maiden that wanders by night,
daughter of Perses. Not willingly did I haste from my home with men of
an alien race; but a horrible fear wrought on me to bethink me of flight
when I sinned; other device was there none. Still my maiden's girdle
remains, as in the halls of my father, unstained, untouched. Pity me, lady,
and turn thy lord to mercy; and may the immortals grant thee a perfect
life, and joy, and children, and the glory of a city unravaged!"
[1029] Thus did she implore Arete, shedding tears, and thus each of the
chieftains in turn: "On your account, ye men of peerless might, and on
account of my toils in your ventures am I sorely afflicted; even I, by
whose help ye yoked the bulls, and reaped the deadly harvest of the
earthborn men; even I, through whom on your homeward path ye shall
bear to Haemonia the golden fleece. Lo, here am I, who have lost my
country and my parents, who have lost my home and all the delights of
life; to you have I restored your country and your homes; with eyes of
gladness ye will see again your parents; but from me a heavy-handed god
has raft all joy; and with strangers I wander, an accursed thing. Fear your
covenant and your oaths, fear the Fury that avenges suppliants and the
retribution of heaven, if I fall into Aeetes' hands and am slain with
grievous outrage. To no shrines, no tower of defence, no other refuge do
I pay heed, but only to you. Hard and pitiless in your cruelty! No
reverence have ye for me in your heart though ye see me helpless,
stretching my hands towards the knees of a stranger queen; yet, when ye
longed to seize the fleece, ye would have met all the Colchians face to
thee and haughty Aeetes himself; but now ye have forgotten your courage,
now that they are all alone and cut off."
[1053] Thus she spake, beseeching; and to whomsoever she bowed in
prayer, that man tried to give her heart and to check her anguish. And in
their hands they shook their sharp pointed spears, and drew the swords
from their sheaths; and they swore they would not hold back from giving
succour, if she should meet with an unrighteous judgement. And the host
were all wearied and Night came on them, Night that puts to rest the
works of men, and lulled all the earth to sleep; but to the maid no sleep
brought rest, but in her bosom her heart was wrung with anguish. Even as
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when a toiling woman turns her spindle through the night, and round her
moan her orphan children, for she is a widow, and down her cheeks fall
the tears, as she bethinks her how dreary a lot hath seized her; so Medea's
cheeks were wet; and her heart within her was in agony, pierced with
sharp pain.
[1068] Now within the palace in the city, as aforetime, lay lordly Alcinous
and Arete, the revered wife of Alcinous, and on their couch through the
night they were devising plans about the maiden; and him, as her wedded
husband, the wife addressed with loving words: "Yea, my friend, come,
save the woe-stricken maid from the Colchians and show grace to the
Minyae. Argos is near our isle and the men of Haemonia; but Aeetes
dwells not near, nor do we know of Aeetes one whit: we hear but his
name; but this maiden of dread suffering hath broken my heart by her
prayers. O king, give her not up to the Colchians to be borne back to her
father's home. She was distraught when first she gave him the drugs to
charm the oxen; and next, to cure one ill by another, as in our sinning we
do often, she fled from her haughty sire's heavy wrath. But Jason, as I
hear, is bound to her by mighty oaths that he will make her his wedded
wife within his halls. Wherefore, my friend, make not, of thy will, Aeson's
son to be forsworn, nor let the father, if thou canst help, work with angry
heart some intolerable mischief on his child. For fathers are all too jealous
against their children; what wrong did Nycteus devise against Antiope, fair
of face! What woes did Danae endure on the wide sea through her sire's
mad rage! Of late, and not far away, Echetus in wanton cruelty thrust
spikes of bronze in his daughter's eyes; and by a grievous fate is she
wasting away, grinding grains of bronze in a dungeon's gloom."
[1096] Thus she spake, beseeching; and by his wife's words his heart was
softened, and thus he spake: "Arete, with arms I could drive forth the
Colchians, showing grace to the heroes for the maiden's sake. But I fear to
set at nought the righteous judgment of Zeus. Nor is it well to take no
thought of Aeetes, as thou sayest: for none is more lordly than Aeetes.
And, if he willed, he might bring war upon Hellas, though he dwell afar.
Wherefore it is right for me to deliver the judgement that in all men's eyes
shall be best; and I will not hide it from thee. If she be yet a maid I decree
that they carry her back to her father; but if she shares a husband's bed, I
will not separate her from her lord; nor, if she bear a child beneath her
breast, will I give it up to an enemy."
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[1110] Thus he spake, and at once sleep laid him to rest. And she stored
up in her heart the word of wisdom, and straightway rose from her couch
and went through the palace; and her handmaids came hasting together,
eagerly tending their mistress. But quietly she summoned her herald and
addressed him, in her prudence urging Aeson's son to wed the maiden,
and not to implore Alcinous; for he himself, she said, will decree to the
Colchians that if she is still a maid he will deliver her up to be borne to
her father's house, but that if she shares a husband's bed he will not sever
her from wedded love.
[1121] Thus she spake, and quickly from the hall his feet bore him, that he
might declare to Jason the fair-omened speech of Arete and the counsel
of godfearing Alcinous. And he found the heroes watching in full armour
in the haven of Hyllus, near the city; and out he spake the whole message;
and each hero's heart rejoiced; for the word that he spake was welcome.
[1128] And straightway they mingled a bowl to the blessed ones, as is
right, and reverently led sheep to the altar, and for that very night
prepared for the maiden the bridal couch in the sacred cave, where once
dwelt Macris, the daughter of Aristaeus, lord of honey, who discovered
the works of bees and the fatness of the olive, the fruit of labour. She it
was that first received in her bosom the Nysean son of Zeus in Abantian
Euboea, and with honey moistened his parched lips when Hermes bore
him out of the flame. And Hera beheld it, and in wrath drove her from
the whole island. And she accordingly came to dwell far off, in the sacred
cave of the Phaeacians, and granted boundless wealth to the inhabitants.
There at that time did they spread a mighty couch; and thereon they laid
the glittering fleece of gold, that so the marriage might be made honoured
and the theme of song. And for them nymphs gathered flowers of varied
hue and bore them thither in their white bosoms; and a splendour as of
flame played round them all, such a light gleamed from the golden tufts.
And in their eyes it kindled a sweet longing; yet for all her desire, awe
withheld each one from laying her hand thereon. Some were called
daughters of the river Aegaeus; others dwelt round the crests of the
Meliteian mount; and others were woodland nymphs from the plains. For
Hera herself, the spouse of Zeus, had sent them to do honour to Jason.
That cave is to this day called the sacred cave of Medea, where they
spread the fine and fragrant linen and brought these two together. And
the heroes in their hands wielded their spears for war, lest first a host of
foes should burst upon them for battle unawares, and, their heads
enwreathed with leafy sprays, all in harmony, while Orpheus' harp rang
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clear, sang the marriage song at the entrance to the bridal chamber. Yet
not in the house of Alcinous was the hero, Aeson's son, minded to
complete his marriage, but in his father's hall when he had returned home
to Ioleus; and such was the mind of Medea herself; but necessity led them
to wed at this time. For never in truth do we tribes of woe-stricken
mortals tread the path of delight with sure foot; but still some bitter
affliction keeps pace with our joy. Wherefore they too, though their souls
were melted with sweet love, were held by fear, whether the sentence of
Alcinous would be fulfilled.
[1170] Now dawn returning with her beams divine scattered the gloomy
night through the sky; and the island beaches laughed out and the paths
over the plains far off, drenched with dew, and there was a din in the
streets; the people were astir throughout the city, and far away the
Colchians were astir at the bounds of the isle of Macris. And straightway
to them went Alcinous, by reason of his covenant, to declare his purpose
concerning the maiden, and in his hand he held a golden staff, his staff of
justice, whereby the people had righteous judgments meted out to them
throughout the city. And with him in order due and arrayed in their
harness of war went marching, band by band, the chiefs of the
Phaeacians. And from the towers came forth the women in crowds to
gaze upon the heroes; and the country folk came to meet them when they
heard the news, for Hera had sent forth a true report. And one led the
chosen ram of his flock, and another a heifer that had never toiled; and
others set hard by jars of wine for mixing; and the smoke of sacrifice leapt
up far away. And women bore fine linen, the fruit of much toil, as women
will, and gifts of gold and varied ornaments as well, such as are brought to
newly-wedded brides; and they marvelled when they saw the shapely
forms and beauty of the gallant heroes, and among them the son of
Oeagrus, oft beating the ground with gleaming sandal, to the time of his
loud-ringing lyre and song. And all the nymphs together, whenever he
recalled the marriage, uplifted the lovely bridal-chant; and at times again
they sang alone as they circled in the dance, Hera, in thy honour; for it
was thou that didst put it into the heart of Arete to proclaim the wise
word of Alcinous. And as soon as he had uttered the decree of his
righteous judgement, and the completion of the marriage had been
proclaimed, he took care that thus it should abide fixed; and no deadly
fear touched him nor Aeetes' grievous wrath, but he kept his judgement
fast bound by unbroken oaths. So when the Colchians learnt that they
were beseeching in vain and he bade them either observe his judgements
or hold their ships away from his harbours and land, then they began to
dread the threats of their own king and besought Alcinous to receive
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them as comrades; and there in the island long time they dwelt with the
Phaeacians, until in the course of years, the Bacchiadae, a race sprung
from Ephyra, settled among them; and the Colchians passed to an island
opposite; and thence they were destined to reach the Ceraunian hills of
the Abantes, and the Nestaeans and Oricum; but all this was fulfilled after
long ages had passed. And still the altars which Medea built on the spot
sacred to Apollo, god of shepherds, receive yearly sacrifices in honour of
the Fates and the Nymphs. And when the Minyae departed many gifts of
friendship did Alcinous bestow, and many Arete; moreover she gave
Medea twelve Phaeacian handmaids from the palace, to bear her
company. And on the seventh day they left Drepane; and at dawn came a
fresh breeze from Zeus. And onward they sped borne along by the wind's
breath. Howbeit not yet was it ordained for the heroes to set foot on
Achaea, until they had toiled even in the furthest bounds of Libya.
[1228] Now had they left behind the gulf named after the Ambracians,
now with sails wide spread the land of the Curetes, and next in order the
narrow islands with the Echinades, and the land of Pelops was just
descried; even then a baleful blast of the north wind seized them in midcourse and swept them towards the Libyan sea nine nights and as many
days, until they came far within Syrtis, wherefrom is no return for ships,
when they are once forced into that gulf. For on every hand are shoals, on
every hand masses of seaweed from the depths; and over them the light
foam of the wave washes without noise; and there is a stretch of sand to
the dim horizon; and there moveth nothing that creeps or flies. Here
accordingly the flood-tide -- for this tide often retreats from the land and
bursts back again over the beach coming on with a rush and roar -- thrust
them suddenly on to the innermost shore, and but little of the keel was
left in the water. And they leapt forth from the ship, and sorrow seized
them when they gazed on the mist and the levels of vast land stretching
far like a mist and continuous into the distance; no spot for water, no
path, no steading of herdsmen did they descry afar off, but all the scene
was possessed by a dead calm. And thus did one hero, vexed in spirit, ask
another: "What land is this? Whither has the tempest hurled us? Would
that, reckless of deadly fear, we had dared to rush on by that same path
between the clashing rocks! Better were it to have overleapt the will of
Zeus and perished in venturing some mighty deed. But now what should
we do, held back by the winds to stay here, if ever so short a time? How
desolate looms before us the edge of the limitless land!"
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[1259] Thus one spake; and among them Ancaeus the helmsman, in
despair at their evil case, spoke with grieving heart: "Verily we are undone
by a terrible doom; there is no escape from ruin; we must suffer the
cruellest woes, having fallen on this desolation, even though breezes
should blow from the land; for, as I gaze far around, on every side do I
behold a sea of shoals, and masses of water, fretted line upon line, run
over the hoary sand. And miserably long ago would our sacred ship have
been shattered far from the shore; but the tide itself bore her high on to
the land from the deep sea. But now the tide rushes back to the sea, and
only the foam, whereon no ship can sail, rolls round us, just covering the
land. Wherefore I deem that all hope of our voyage and of our return is
cut off. Let someone else show his skill; let him sit at the helm the man
that is eager for our deliverance. But Zeus has no will to fulfil our day of
return after all our toils."
[1277] Thus he spake with tears, and all of them that had knowledge of
ships agreed thereto; but the hearts of all grew numb, and pallor
overspread their cheeks. And as, like lifeless spectres, men roam through a
city awaiting the issue of war or of pestilence, or some mighty storm
which overwhelms the countless labours of oxen, when the images of
their own accord sweat and run down with blood, and bellowings are
heard in temples, or when at mid-day the sun draws on night from
heaven, and the stars shine clear through the mist; so at that time along
the endless strand the chieftains wandered, groping their way. Then
straightway dark evening came upon them; and piteously did they
embrace each other and say farewell with tears, that they might, each one
apart from his fellow, fall on the sand and die. And this way and that they
went further to choose a resting-place; and they wrapped their heads in
their cloaks and, fasting and unfed, lay down all that night and the day,
awaiting a piteous death. But apart the maidens huddled together
lamented beside the daughter of Aeetes. And as when, forsaken by their
mother, unfledged birds that have fallen from a cleft in the rock chirp
shrilly; or when by the banks of fair-flowing Pactolus, swans raise their
song, and all around the dewy meadow echoes and the river's fair stream;
so these maidens, laying in the dust their golden hair, all through the night
wailed their piteous lament. And there all would have parted from life
without a name and unknown to mortal men, those bravest of heroes,
with their task unfulfilled; but as they pined in despair, the heroinenymphs, warders of Libya, had pity on them, they who once found
Athena, what time she leapt in gleaming armour from her father's head,
and bathed her by Trito's waters. It was noon-tide and the fiercest rays of
the sun were scorching Libya; they stood near Aeson's son, and lightly
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drew the cloak from his head. And the hero cast down his eyes and
looked aside, in reverence for the goddesses, and as he lay bewildered all
alone they addressed him openly with gentle words:
[1318] "Ill-starred one, why art thou so smitten with despair? We know
how ye went in quest of the golden fleece; we know each toil of yours, all
the mighty deeds ye wrought in your wanderings over land and sea. We
are the solitary ones, goddesses of the land, speaking with human voice,
the heroines, Libya's warders and daughters. Up then; be not thus afflicted
in thy misery, and rouse thy comrades. And when Amphitrite has
straightway loosed Poseidon's swift-wheeled car, then do ye pay to your
mother a recompense for all her travail when she bare you so long in her
womb; and so ye may return to the divine land of Achaea."
[1330] Thus they spake, and with the voice vanished at once, where they
stood. But Jason sat upon the earth as he gazed around, and thus cried:
"Be gracious, noble goddesses of the desert, yet the saying about our
return I understand not clearly. Surely I will gather together my comrades
and tell them, if haply we can find some token of our escape, for the
counsel of many is better."
[1337] He spake, and leapt to his feet, and shouted afar to his comrades,
all squalid with dust, like a lion when he roars through the woodland
seeking his mate; and far off in the mountains the glens tremble at the
thunder of his voice; and the oxen of the field and the herdsmen shudder
with fear; yet to them Jason's voice was no whit terrible the voice of a
comrade calling to his friends. And with looks downcast they gathered
near, and hard by where the ship lay he made them sit down in their grief
and the women with them, and addressed them and told them everything:
"Listen, friends; as I lay in my grief, three goddesses girded with goatskins from the neck downwards round the back and waist, like maidens,
stood over my head nigh at hand; and they uncovered me, drawing my
cloak away with light hand, and they bade me rise up myself and go and
rouse you, and pay to our mother a bounteous recompense for all her
travail when she bare us so long in her womb, when Amphitrite shall have
loosed Poseidon's swift-wheeled car. But I cannot fully understand
concerning this divine message. They said indeed that they were heroines,
Libya's warders and daughters; and all the toils that we endured aforetime
by land and sea, all these they declared that they knew full well. Then I
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saw them no more in their place, but a mist or cloud came between and
hid them from my sight."
[1363] Thus he spake, and all marvelled as they heard. Then was wrought
for the Minyae the strangest of portents. From the sea to the land leapt
forth a monstrous horse, of vast size, with golden mane tossing round his
neck; and quickly from his limbs he shook off abundant spray and started
on his course, with feet like the wind. And at once Peleus rejoiced and
spake among the throng of his comrades: "I deem that Poseidon's ear has
even now been loosed by the hands of his dear wife, and I divine that our
mother is none else than our ship herself; for surely she bare us in her
womb and groans unceasingly with grievous travailing. But with unshaken
strength and untiring shoulders will we lift her up and bear her within this
country of sandy wastes, where yon swift-footed steed has sped before.
For he will not plunge beneath the earth; and his hoof-prints, I ween, will
point us to some bay above the sea."
[1380] Thus he spake, and the fit counsel pleased all. This is the tale the
Muses told; and I sing obedient to the Pierides, and this report have I
heard most truly; that ye, O mightiest far of the sons of kings, by your
might and your valour over the desert sands of Libya raised high aloft on
your shoulders the ship and all that ye brought therein, and bare her
twelve days and nights alike. Yet who could tell the pain and grief which
they endured in that toil? Surely they were of the blood of the immortals,
such a task did they take on them, constrained by necessity. How forward
and how far they bore her gladly to the waters of the Tritonian lake! How
they strode in and set her down from their stalwart shoulders!
[1393] Then, like raging hounds, they rushed to search for a spring; for
besides their suffering and anguish, a parching thirst lay upon them, and
not in vain did they wander; but they came to the sacred plain where
Ladon, the serpent of the land, till yesterday kept watch over the golden
apples in the garden of Atlas; and all around the nymphs, the Hesperides,
were busied, chanting their lovely song. But at that time, stricken by
Heracles, he lay fallen by the trunk of the apple-tree; only the tip of his tail
was still writhing; but from his head down his dark spine he lay lifeless;
and where the arrows had left in his blood the bitter gall of the Lernaean
hydra, flies withered and died over the festering wounds. And close at
hand the Hesperides, their white arms flung over their golden heads,
lamented shrilly; and the heroes drew near suddenly; but the maidens, at
their quick approach, at once became dust and earth where they stood.
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Orpheus marked the divine portent, and for his comrades addressed them
in prayer: "O divine ones, fair and kind, be gracious, O queens, whether
ye be numbered among the heavenly goddesses, or those beneath the
earth, or be called the Solitary nymphs; come, O nymphs, sacred race of
Oceanus, appear manifest to our longing eyes and show us some spring of
water from the rock or some sacred flow gushing from the earth,
goddesses, wherewith we may quench the thirst that burns us unceasingly.
And if ever again we return in our voyaging to the Achaean land, then to
you among the first of goddesses with willing hearts will we bring
countless gifts, libations and banquets."
[1422] So he spake, beseeching them with plaintive voice; and they from
their station near pitied their pain; and lo! First of all they caused grass to
spring from the earth; and above the grass rose up tall shoots, and then
flourishing saplings grew standing upright far above the earth. Hespere
became a poplar and Eretheis an elm, and Aegle a willow's sacred trunk.
And forth from these trees their forms looked out, as clear as they were
before, a marvel exceeding great, and Aegle spake with gentle words
answering their longing looks: "Surely there has come hither a mighty
succour to your toils, that most accursed man, who robbed our guardian
serpent of life and plucked the golden apples of the goddesses and is
gone; and has left bitter grief for us. For yesterday came a man most fell
in wanton violence, most grim in form; and his eyes flashed beneath his
scowling brow; a ruthless wretch; and he was clad in the skin of a
monstrous lion of raw hide, untanned; and he bare a sturdy bow of olive,
and a bow, wherewith he shot and killed this monster here. So he too
came, as one traversing the land on foot, parched with thirst; and he
rushed wildly through this spot, searching for water, but nowhere was he
like to see it. Now here stood a rock near the Tritonian lake; and of his
own device, or by the prompting of some god, he smote it below with his
foot; and the water gushed out in full flow. And he, leaning both his
hands and chest upon the ground, drank a huge draught from the rifted
rock, until, stooping like a beast of the field, he had satisfied his mighty
maw."
[1450] Thus she spake; and they gladly with joyful steps ran to the spot
where Aegle had pointed out to them the spring, until they reached it.
And as when earth-burrowing ants gather in swarms round a narrow cleft,
or when flies lighting upon a tiny drop of sweet honey cluster round with
insatiate eagerness; so at that time, huddled together, the Minyae thronged
about the spring from the rock. And thus with wet lips one cried to
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another in his delight: "Strange! In very truth Heracles, though far away,
has saved his comrades, fordone with thirst. Would that we might find
him on his way as we pass through the mainland!"
[1461] So they spake, and those who were ready for this work answered,
and they separated this way and that, each starting to search. For by the
night winds the footsteps had been effaced where the sand was stirred.
The two sons of Boreas started up, trusting in their wings; and
Euphemus, relying on his swift feet, and Lynceus to cast far his piercing
eyes; and with them darted off Canthus, the fifth. He was urged on by the
doom of the gods and his own courage, that he might learn for certain
from Heracles where he had left Polyphemus, son of Eilatus; for he was
minded to question him on every point concerning his comrade. But that
hero had founded a glorious city among the Mysians, and, yearning for his
home-return, had passed far over the mainland in search of Argo; and in
time he reached the land of the Chalybes, who dwell near the sea; there it
was that his fate subdued him. And to him a monument stands under a
tall poplar, just facing the sea. But that day Lynceus thought he saw
Heracles all alone, far off, over measureless land, as a man at the month's
beginning sees, or thinks he sees, the moon through a bank of cloud. And
he returned and told his comrades that no other searcher would find
Heracles on his way, and they also came back, and swift-footed
Euphemus and the twin sons of Thracian Boreas, after a vain toil.
[1485] But thee, Canthus, the fates of death seized in Libya. On pasturing
flocks didst thou light; and there followed a shepherd who, in defence of
his own sheep, while thou weft leading them off to thy comrades in their
need, slew thee by the cast of a stone; for he was no weakling, Caphaurus,
the grandson of Lycoreian Phoebus and the chaste maiden Acacallis,
whom once Minos drove from home to dwell in Libya, his own daughter,
when she was bearing the gods' heavy load; and she bare to Phoebus a
glorious son, whom they call Amphithemis and Garamas. And
Amphithemis wedded a Tritonian nymph; and she bare to him Nasamon
and strong Caphaurus, who on that day in defending his sheep slew
Canthus. But he escaped not the chieftains' avenging hands, when they
learned the deed he had done. And the Minyae, when they knew it,
afterwards took up the corpse and buried it in the earth, mourning; and
the sheep they took with them.
[1502] Thereupon on the same day a pitiless fate seized Mopsus too, son
of Ampycus; and he escaped not a bitter doom by his prophesying; for
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there is no averting of death. Now there lay in the sand, avoiding the
midday heat, a dread serpent, too sluggish of his own will to strike at an
unwilling foe, nor yet would he dart full face at one that would shrink
back. But into whatever of all living beings that life-giving earth sustains
that serpent once injects his black venom, his path to Hades becomes not
so much as a cubit's length, not even if Paeeon, if it is right for me to say
this openly, should tend him, when its teeth have only grazed the skin.
For when over Libya flew godlike Perseus Eurymedon for by that name
his mother called him -- bearing to the king the Gorgon's head newly
severed, all the drops of dark blood that fell to the earth, produced a
brood of those serpents. Now Mopsus stepped on the end of its spine,
setting thereon the sole of his left foot; and it writhed round in pain and
bit and tore the flesh between the shin and the muscles. And Medea and
her handmaids fled in terror; but Canthus bravely felt the bleeding wound;
for no excessive pain harassed him. Poor wretch! Already a numbness that
loosed his limbs was stealing beneath his skin, and a thick mist was
spreading over his eyes. Straightway his heavy limbs sank helplessly to the
ground and he grew cold; and his comrades and the hero, Aeson's son,
gathered round, marvelling at the close-coming doom. Nor yet though
dead might he lie beneath the sun even for a little space. For at once the
poison began to rot his flesh within, and the hair decayed and fell from
the skin. And quickly and in haste they dug a deep grave with mattocks of
bronze; and they tore their hair, the heroes and the maidens, bewailing the
dead man's piteous suffering; and when he had received due burial rites,
thrice they marched round the tomb in full armour, and heaped above
him a mound of earth.
[1537] But when they had gone aboard, as the south wind blew over the
sea, and they were searching for a passage to go forth from the Tritonian
lake, for long they had no device, but all the day were borne on aimlessly.
And as a serpent goes writhing along his crooked path when the sun's
fiercest rays scorch him; and with a hiss he turns his head to this side and
that, and in his fury his eyes glow like sparks of fire, until he creeps to his
lair through a cleft in the rock; so Argo seeking an outlet from the lake, a
fairway for ships, wandered for a long time. Then straightway Orpheus
bade them bring forth from the ship Apollo's massy tripod and offer it to
the gods of the land as propitiation for their return. So they went forth
and set Apollo's gift on the shore; then before them stood, in the form of
a youth, farswaying Triton, and he lifted a clod from the earth and offered
it as a stranger's gift, and thus spake: "Take it, friends, for no stranger's
gift of great worth have I here by me now to place in the hands of those
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who beseech me. But if ye are searching for a passage through this sea, as
often is the need of men passing through a strange land, I will declare it.
For my sire Poseidon has made me to be well versed in this sea. And I
rule the shore if haply in your distant land you have ever heard of
Eurypylus, born in Libya, the home of wild beasts."
[1562] Thus he spake, and readily Euphemus held out his hands towards
the clod, and thus addressed him in reply: "If haply, hero, thou knowest
aught of Apis and the sea of Minos, tell us truly, who ask it of you. For
not of our will have we come hither, but by the stress of heavy storms
have we touched the borders of this land, and have borne our ship aloft
on our shoulders to the waters of this lake over the mainland, grievously
burdened; and we know not where a passage shows itself for our course
to the land of Pelops."
[1571] So he spake; and Triton stretched out his hand and showed afar
the sea and the lake's deep mouth, and then addressed them: "That is the
outlet to the sea, where the deep water lies unmoved and dark; on each
side roll white breakers with shining crests; and the way between for your
passage out is narrow. And that sea stretches away in mist to the divine
land of Pelops beyond Crete; but hold to the right, when ye have entered
the swell of the sea from the lake, and steer your course hugging the land,
as long as it trends to the north; but when the coast bends, falling away in
the other direction, then your course is safely laid for you if ye go straight
forward from the projecting cape. But go in joy, and as for labour let there
be no grieving that limbs in youthful vigour should still toil."
[1586] He spake with kindly counsel; and they at once went aboard, intent
to come forth from the lake by the use of oars. And eagerly they sped on;
meanwhile Triton took up the mighty tripod, and they saw him enter the
lake; but thereafter did no one mark how he vanished so near them along
with the tripod. But their hearts were cheered, for that one of the blessed
had met them in friendly guise. And they bade Aeson's son offer to him
the choicest of the sheep and when he had slain it chant the hymn of
praise. And straightway he chose in haste and raising the victim slew it
over the stern, and prayed with these words: "Thou god, who hast
manifested thyself on the borders of this land, whether the daughters
born of the sea call thee Triton, the great sea-marvel, or Phorcys, or
Nereus, be gracious, and grant the return home dear to our hearts."
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[1601] He spake, and cut the victim's throat over the water and cast it
from the stern. And the god rose up from the depths in form such as he
really was. And as when a man trains a swift steed for the broad racecourse, and runs along, grasping the bushy mane, while the steed follows
obeying his master, and rears his neck aloft in his pride, and the gleaming
bit rings loud as he champs it in his jaws from side to side; so the god,
seizing hollow Argo's keel, guided her onward to the sea. And his body,
from the crown of his head, round his back and waist as far as the belly,
was wondrously like that of the blessed ones in form; but below his sides
the tail of a sea monster lengthened far, forking to this side and that; and
he smote the surface of the waves with the spines, which below parted
into curving fins, like the horns of the new moon. And he guided Argo on
until he sped her into the sea on her course; and quickly he plunged into
the vast abyss; and the heroes shouted when they gazed with their eyes on
that dread portent. There is the harbour of Argo and there are the signs of
her stay, and altars to Poseidon and Triton; for during that day they
tarried. But at dawn with sails outspread they sped on before the breath of
the west wind, keeping the desert land on their right. And on the next
morn they saw the headland and the recess of the sea, bending inward
beyond the jutting headland. And straightway the west wind ceased, and
there came the breeze of the clear south wind; and their hearts rejoiced at
the sound it made. But when the sun sank and the star returned that bids
the shepherd fold, which brings rest to wearied ploughmen, at that time
the wind died down in the dark night; so they furled the sails and lowered
the tall mast and vigorously plied their polished oars all night and through
the day, and again when the next night came on. And rugged Carpathus
far away welcomed them; and thence they were to cross to Crete, which
rises in the sea above other islands.
[1638] And Talos, the man of bronze, as he broke off rocks from the hard
cliff, stayed them from fastening hawsers to the shore, when they came to
the roadstead of Dicte's haven. He was of the stock of bronze, of the men
sprung from ash-trees, the last left among the sons of the gods; and the
son of Cronos gave him to Europa to be the warder of Crete and to stride
round the island thrice a day with his feet of bronze. Now in all the rest of
his body and limbs was he fashioned of bronze and invulnerable; but
beneath the sinew by his ankle was a blood-red vein; and this, with its
issues of life and death, was covered by a thin skin. So the heroes, though
outworn with toil, quickly backed their ship from the land in sore dismay.
And now far from Crete would they have been borne in wretched plight,
distressed both by thirst and pain, had not Medea addressed them as they
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turned away: "Hearken to me. For I deem that I alone can subdue for you
that man, whoever he be, even though his frame be of bronze throughout,
unless his life too is everlasting. But be ready to keep your ship here
beyond the cast of his stones, till he yield the victory to me."
[1659] Thus she spake; and they drew the ship out of range, resting on
their oars, waiting to see what plan unlooked for she would bring to pass;
and she, holding the fold of her purple robe over her cheeks on each side,
mounted on the deck; and Aeson's son took her hand in his and guided
her way along the thwarts. And with songs did she propitiate and invoke
the Death- spirits, devourers of life, the swift hounds of Hades, who,
hovering through all the air, swoop down on the living. Kneeling in
supplication, thrice she called on them with songs, and thrice with prayers;
and, shaping her soul to mischief, with her hostile glance she bewitched
the eyes of Talos, the man of bronze; and her teeth gnashed bitter wrath
against him, and she sent forth baneful phantoms in the frenzy of her
rage.
[1673] Father Zeus, surely great wonder rises in my mind, seeing that dire
destruction meets us not from disease and wounds alone, but lo! even
from afar, may be, it tortures us! So Talos, for all his frame of bronze,
yielded the victory to the might of Medea the sorceress. And as he was
heaving massy rocks to stay them from reaching the haven, he grazed his
ankle on a pointed crag; and the ichor gushed forth like melted lead; and
not long thereafter did he stand towering on the jutting cliff. But even as
some huge pine, high up on the mountains, which woodmen have left half
hewn through by their sharp axes when they returned from the forest -- at
first it shivers in the wind by night, then at last snaps at the stump and
crashes down; so Talos for a while stood on his tireless feet, swaying to
and fro, when at last, all strengthless, fell with a mighty thud. For that
night there in Crete the heroes lay; then, just as dawn was growing bright,
they built a shrine to Minoan Athena, and drew water and went aboard, so
that first of all they might by rowing pass beyond Salmone's height.
[1694] But straightway as they sped over the wide Cretan sea night scared
them, that night which they name the Pall of Darkness; the stars pierced
not that fatal night nor the beams of the moon, but black chaos
descended from heaven, or haply some other darkness came, rising from
the nethermost depths. And the heroes, whether they drifted in Hades or
on the waters, knew not one whit; but they committed their return to the
sea in helpless doubt whither it was bearing them. But Jason raised his
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hands and cried to Phoebus with mighty voice, calling on him to save
them; and the tears ran down in his distress; and often did he promise to
bring countless offerings to Pytho, to Amyclae, and to Ortygia. And
quickly, O son of Leto, swift to hear, didst thou come down from heaven
to the Melantian rocks, which lie there in the sea. Then darting upon one
of the twin peaks, thou raisedst aloft in thy right hand thy golden bow;
and the bow flashed a dazzling gleam all round. And to their sight
appeared a small island of the Sporades, over against the tiny isle
Hippuris, and there they cast anchor and stayed; and straightway dawn
arose and gave them light; and they made for Apollo a glorious abode in a
shady wood, and a shady altar, calling on Phoebus the "Gleamer", because
of the gleam far-seen; and that bare island they called Anaphe, for that
Phoebus had revealed it to men sore bewildered. And they sacrificed all
that men could provide for sacrifice on a desolate strand; wherefore when
Medea's Phaeacian handmaids saw them pouring water for libations on
the burning brands, they could no longer restrain laughter within their
bosoms, for that ever they had seen oxen in plenty slain in the halls of
Alcinous. And the heroes delighted in the jest and attacked them with
taunting words; and merry railing and contention flung to and fro were
kindled among them. And from that sport of the heroes such scoffs do
the women fling at the men in that island whenever they propitiate with
sacrifices Apollo the gleaming god, the warder of Anaphe.
[1731] But when they had loosed the hawsers thence in fair weather, then
Euphemus bethought him of a dream of the night, reverencing the
glorious son of Maia. For it seemed to him that the god-given clod of
earth held in his palm close to his breast was being suckled by white
streams of milk, and that from it, little though it was, grew a woman like a
virgin; and he, overcome by strong desire, lay with her in love's embrace;
and united with her he pitied her, as though she were a maiden whom he
was feeding with his own milk; but she comforted him with gentle words:)
"Daughter of Triton am I, dear friend, and nurse of thy children, no
maiden; Triton and Libya are my parents. But restore me to the daughters
of Nereus to dwell in the sea near Anaphe; I shall return again to the light
of the sun, to prepare a home for thy descendants."
[1746] Of this he stored in his heart the memory, and declared it to
Aeson's son; and Jason pondered a prophecy of the Far-Darter and lifted
up his voice and said: "My friend, great and glorious renown has fallen to
thy lot. For of this clod when thou hast cast it into the sea, the gods will
make an island, where thy children's children shall dwell; for Triton gave
343
this to thee as a stranger's gift from the Libyan mainland. None other of
the immortals it was than he that gave thee this when he met thee."
[1755] Thus he spake; and Euphemus made not vain the answer of
Aeson's son; but, cheered by the prophecy, he cast the clod into the
depths. Therefrom rose up an island, Calliste, sacred nurse of the sons of
Euphemus, who in former days dwelt in Sintian Lemnos, and from
Lemnos were driven forth by Tyrrhenians and came to Sparta as
suppliants; and when they left Sparta, Theras, the goodly son of Autesion,
brought them to the island Calliste, and from himself he gave it the name
of Thera. But this befell after the days of Euphemus.
[1765] And thence they steadily left behind long leagues of sea and stayed
on the beach of Aegina; and at once they contended in innocent strife
about the fetching of water, who first should draw it and reach the ship.
For both their need and the ceaseless breeze urged them on. There even
to this day do the youths of the Myrmidons take up on their shoulders
full- brimming jars, and with swift feet strive for victory in the race.
[1773] Be gracious, race of blessed chieftains! And may these songs year
after year be sweeter to sing among men. For now have I come to the
glorious end of your toils; for no adventure befell you as ye came home
from Aegina, and no tempest of winds opposed you; but quietly did ye
skirt the Cecropian land and Aulis inside of Euboea and the Opuntian
cities of the Locrians, and gladly did ye step forth upon the beach of
Pagasae.
THE END
344

Roman Roads Reader: Drama and Lyric

Transcription

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