Lest haply never I bring you alive unto Hellas again.’
So spake he, trying the heroes’ souls; but with words of cheer
Shouted they: glowed his heart that gallant chiding to hear.
And again he uplifted his voice, and he hailed that hero-crew:Â Â {640}
‘O friends, your manful spirit hath quickened my courage anew.
Wherefore, not though through abysses of Hades my way should be,
Will I suffer that dread shall lay hold on my soul, so steadfast do ye
Abide amid heart-wringing terror—yea, seeing that now through the strait
Of the Clashing Rocks we have sailed, I trow there lieth in wait
No terror hereafter like unto this, if in truth we obey
The counsel of Phineus the seer, as we track the printless way.’
So spake he; from words of misgiving their lips thenceforth they refrained:
But they fell to the ceaseless labour of rowing; and quickly they gained
Rheba the swift-flowing river: Kotône’s height they descried,  {650}
And shortly thereafter past the Headland Dark did they glide.
Thereby was Phyllêis’ outfall, where in the days bygone
In the halls of his palace Dipsakus welcomed Athamas’ son,
What time from Orchomenus-city he fled, on the winged ram borne.
A Nymph of the Mead was his mother: the tyrant’s arrogant scorn
He loathed, but contented beside his father’s streams dwelt he
With his mother, and pastured his sheep in the meadows beside the sea.
And quickly they sighted his shrine, and the broad low banks of the stream,
And the plain, and of Kalpê’s deep-flowing waters they caught the gleam
For a moment, and passed it by, and still, when the daylight waned,  {660}
’Neath the stars of the windless night at the tireless oars they strained.
And even as ploughing oxen cleaving the rain-soaked soil
Labour the furrows adown, and abundant sweat of their toil
Streameth from flank and from neck, and aye from beneath the yoke
Are the tired beasts turning their eyes askance; and as furnace-smoke
In hot gasps snort they the breath from their mouths; and, deep in the clay
Thrusting their hoofs, at the plough they tug through the livelong day;
So toiled those heroes tugging the oars through the brine alway.
When the dawn divine not yet hath arisen, nor utter night
Reigneth, but over the darkness stealeth a faint grey light,—  {670}
The twilight-tide is it named of slumber-stinted men,—
Into a desolate Thynian island’s haven then
They ran, and with weary toil sore-spent won they to the strand.
And to them lo, Lêto’s son, coming up from the Libyan land,
As he fared to the countless folk of the Hyperborean race,
Appeared; and his tresses golden-gleaming about his face,
Ever, as onward he moved, in the breezes floated and swung.
In his left hand held he the silver bow, and his quiver slung
From his shoulders was gleaming adown his back: and the isle all o’er
Quaked ’neath his feet, and surged the billow high on the shore.  {680}
Then fell on them ’wildered fear as they looked: was none dared turn
His face to gaze with his eyes on the God’s eyes lovely and stern.
But with heads bowed down to the earth they stood: and onward he passed
Faring afar through the air to the sea. Then Orpheus at last
After long hush spake, and he cried to the hero-chieftains all:
‘Come now, an ye will, this island the Sacred Isle let us call
Of Apollo the Dawn-god, seeing at dawning revealed to our eyes
O’er the isle he hath passed. Such things as we have let us sacrifice,
On the shore upbuilding an altar: and if in the days to come
To Haimonia-land he vouchsafe us return, safe-speeding us home,  {690}
Then with the thighs of hornèd goats will we pay our vow.
But with sacrifice-steam and libation I bid you propitiate now
The God. Be gracious, O King manifested!—be gracious thou!’
So did he counsel: an altar with speed ’gan these uppile
Of shingle, and those through the island wandered, seeking the while
If they haply might light on a fawn, or the wild goat’s restless brood
That in multitudes seek their pasturage far in the depths of the wood.
And Lêto’s son unto these gave booty; and carving out
The thighs, on the altar they laid them with fat-folds wrapped about:
And they burnt them, hailing Apollo the Lord of the Fair Dayspring.  {700}
And around the blaze they stood in a wide encompassing ring:
‘All hail, fair Healer Apollo! Hail, thou Healer of Bane!’
They sang: and amidst them Oeagrius’ goodly son hath ta’en
The Bistonian lyre, and uplifted his voice in the clear-ringing lay,
Singing how on the rocky flanks of Parnassus once on a day
Delphinê the monster the young God slew with his arrow-flight,
When he yet was a beardless youth, rejoicing in locks of light:—
‘Be gracious!’ he sang, ‘Unshorn, O King, be thy tresses aye,
Ever unravaged, as Heaven’s will is! One only may lay
Love-lingering hands thereupon, even Lêto Kôeus’ child.’  {710}
And the daughters of Pleistus oft, the Korykian Nymphs of the wild,
Caught up the refrain—‘Hail, Healer!’ their gladdening echoes ring.
So born was the lovely hymn that to Phœbus yet men sing.
Then, when with the dance and the song they had honoured the God, they swore,
By the holy libations taking the oath, that evermore
They would stand each one by his fellow, and help in unity.
On the victims laid they their hands as they spake; and yet may ye see
A temple to gracious Unity there, which their own hands reared
In the day that they took for their wayfaring-fellow the Goddess revered.
And now when the dawn of the third day came, a fresh strong wind  {720}
From the west upsprang, and they left the island-cliffs behind.
Overagainst the mouth of the river Sangarius then,
And the land exceeding rich of the Mariandynian men,
The streams of Lykus, the mere of Anthemoïsia—these
They sighted, and ran thereby, and ever the sheets in the breeze
Quivered, and all the tackling, as onward they sped their flight.
But at dawn—forasmuch as the wind had fallen asleep in the night—
Gladly the haven they won of the Acherusian Head.
Upward it soareth to heaven with cliffs no foot may tread,
Fronting the sea Bithynian; below it the craggy rocks  {730}
Ever lashed by the brine stand rooted: around them with thunder-shocks
Ever crashes the wallowing surge; and above the turmoil on high
Wide-spreading planes on the brow of the mountain rest on the sky.
And aback of the headland, and sloped therefrom away from the shore
Is a glen in a hollow: therein is a cave, even Hades’ Door,
With forest and rocks overroofed, and thereout an icy breath,
Chill-blowing unceasingly up from unfathomed abysses of death,
Freezeth the dews evermore, neither melteth the glistering rime
From the leaves, till the hour when the sun to his noonday height doth climb.
And o’er that headland grim doth silence never brood,  {740}
But it murmureth ever with sound confused of the booming flood
And of leaves that shiver in blasts from the mountain-clefts that blow.
There also the outfall is of the river Acheron’s flow:
Through the heart of the headland bursting it hurleth its flood to the sea
Eastward, through yawning chasms plunging suddenly.
But ‘Saviour of Sailors’ in days thereafter called they its name,
Even Megaran folk of Nisaia, when seeking a home they came
In the Mariandynian land; for deliverance from peril it gave
Unto them and their ships from the stress of stormy wind and wave.
Through the gorge of the cape Acherusian ran the heroes their prow,  {750}
And seaward-facing abode; for the wind had lulled but now.
Nor long unmarked of Lykus, the lord of the selfsame land,
And the Mariandynian folk, they came, that hero-band,
The slayers of Amykus, seeing their rumour before them had run:
So a league with the wanderers made they because of the great deed done.
And, for Prince Polydeukes, they hailed him as though of the Gods he were,
Thither flocking from every side; for through many a stormy year
Had they warred with the proud Bebrykians, and faced the battle-blast.
So they went up into the city, and all together they passed
Into Lykus’ palace, and that day through by the meat and the bowl  {760}
In all lovingkindness they sat, and with converse gladdened their soul.
And Aison’s scion his lineage told, and the names of the rest
Of the hero-helpers withal, and the tale of Pelias’ hest;
And how the women of Lemnos in kindness dealt with them well;
And of all that in Kyzikus, land of the Dolian men, befell;
How to Mysia they came, and to Kios, where Herakles lion-souled
Sore loth they forsook; and the words of the Sea-god Glaukus he told;
And how they laid the Bebrykian people and Amykus low;
And of Phineus’ prophecies told he and all his weary woe;
And how they escaped through the Crags Dark-blue, and beheld on the isle  {770}
Lêto’s son: and still, as he told all, Lykus the while
Hearkened in gladness of soul; but with grief did the heart of him ache
For Herakles left behind, and unto them all he spake:
‘O friends, what a hero’s help ye have lost for the way ye must go
Far-sailing to halls of Aiêtes!—myself have beheld him, and know
What manner of man he was; for in Daskylus’ halls did he stand,
Even here in the halls of my sire, when he marched through the Asian land
Afoot, that belt of the battle-revelling queen to win,
Hippolytê: then did he find me with youth’s soft down on my chin.
Here, when Priolaus my brother was unto his grave-mound borne,—  {780}
Who was slain by our Mysian foes, and for whom the people mourn
With exceeding piteous dirges from that day forth,—in the lists
Against Titias the strong he stood, and prevailed in the strife of the fists
Over him who amidst of our young men never his match had found
In stature and might: but Herakles dashed his teeth on the ground.
Beneath my father’s sceptre withal the Mysians he bowed,
And the Phrygians, for hard by our marches their fields our foemen ploughed.
And the tribes of Bithynians he smote, and won their land by his might,
Even to the outfall of Rheba, and unto Kolonê’s height.
And the Paphlagonians of Pelops yielded, nor faced that foe,  {790}
Even all round whom Billaios’ darkling waters flow.
Then came the Bebrykians; and Amykus’ lawless tyranny,
While Herakles dwelt afar, reft these my possessions from me,
Long carving out of my land huge cantles, till stretched the line
Of their bounds to the meads where Hypius’ deep-flowing waters shine.
But ye made them to pay requital for all: it was not, I wot,
But by will of the Gods that war by Tyndareus’ son was brought
That day on Bebrykia’s sons, when their champion giant he slew.
Wherefore what thanks soever Lykus may render to you
With joy will I render; for meet and right it is that the weak,  {800}
When the strong for their helping arise, by deeds their thanks should speak.
Lo, Daskylus now will I bid that he be of your company,
Even my son, and if this man your fellow in wayfaring be,
With kindly greeting shall all men hail you, and welcome fain
Through all your way, till the mouth of the river Thermodon ye gain.
But to Tyndareus’ sons on the Acherusian foreland’s steep
A temple on high will I rear: far off across the deep
Shall seafarers mark that fane, and to these in prayer shall they call.
Rich fields of the fertile plain will I set apart withal
Unto them, as unto the Gods, without the city-wall.’  {810}
Even so through the livelong day at the banquet revelled they on.
But with dawning down to the strand they hied them, in haste to be gone.
Then went with them Lykus, and gifts in their galley to bear gave he
Without number, and sent his son, their voyaging comrade to be.
There did the doom fate-spoken descend upon Abas’ son,
Idmon, in soothsaying peerless: but safety for him was there none
In his soothsaying lore, for that now must he die by the doom decreed.
For it chanced that there lay in a reedy river’s water-mead,
Cooling his flanks and his mighty belly wallowed in mire,
A wild boar gleaming-tusked, so baleful a monster and dire  {820}
That of him were the meadow-haunting Nymphs themselves adread.
No man knew his lair; alone in the fen wide-stretching he fed.
But it chanced unto Abas’ son o’er the marshy rises to fare
Of the plain, and the beast on a sudden, forth of his unseen lair
High-leaping out of the reed-bed, gashed in his sidelong rush
His thigh, that the sinews were severed, and snapped was the bone by the tush.
With one sharp cry to the earth he fell, and with answering shout
His comrades ran to the stricken; and Peleus in haste thrust out
With his hunting-spear, as the murderous monster fled to the fen.
Then turned he, and charged full on them; but Idas stabbed him then,  {830}
And harshly screaming he fell impaled on the keen spear-head.
There on the earth as he lay, unheeded they left him dead.
But their friend to the galley in death-throes gasping his comrades bore
Sore grieved: but he died in their arms or ever they reached the shore.
Then from their voyaging stayed they, they cared not now to depart:
To their dead friend’s burial turned they in heaviness of heart.
For three whole days they wailed, and their dead, when the fourth day broke,
Did they bury as one of the princes; and Lykus and all his folk
Had part in the woeful rites; and victims of sheep not a few,
As meet and right for the dead it is, by his grave they slew.  {840}
And a barrow that standeth yet unto this man there did they raise,
And a token is there, to be seen by the men of the unborn days,
A galley’s roller of olive-wood; into leaf doth it break
But a little below Acherusia’s height: and—if I may speak
This too by the power of the Muses that stirreth within my breast—
To BÅ“otian men and Nisaian Apollo spake his behest,
Worship to him as unto their city’s protector to pay,
And around that ancient olive a city’s foundations to lay.
But by this is tradition dim, and they render the honour-meed
Unto one Agamestor, and not unto Idmon, Aiolus’ seed.  {850}
Now who was the next that died?—for the heroes again in grief
Another earth-mound heaped for another perished chief:
Yea, there be memorials twain of the wanderers yet high-reared.
Now telleth the tale how Tiphys the Hagniad died; for his weird
Was to voyage no further thereafter; but him, far away from his home,
Short sickness hushed into sleep, the endless sleep of the tomb,
While yet were the death-rites rendered to Abas’ son by the folk:
And grief unendurable seized them for this new ruin-stroke.
Yea, and when hard by the seer him too they had buried there,
On the shore of the sea did they cast them adown in utter despair,  {860}
Rolled in their mantles from head to foot, all hushed: no part
Had meat nor drink in their thoughts; but in bitterness of heart
They spake not, for hope of returning was dead in each man’s breast.
And for grief had they gone no further, had there made end of the Quest,
But that Hêrê enkindled exceeding courage within the soul
Of Ankaius, whom Astypaleia, where Imbrasus’ waters roll,
Bare to the Sea-god, a man most deft in the steering of ships.
So now unto Peleus he turned him, and spake with eager lips:
‘Is it well done, Aiakus’ son, that, forgetting the great work, we
On an alien shore should linger and linger?—I, even he  {870}
Whom Jason brought on the Quest of the Fleece from Parthenia afar,
Have knowledge of ships,—yea, even beyond my cunning in war.
Wherefore, as touching the plight of our ship, no whit fear thou.
Yea, others in steering deft came hitherward with us, I trow:
Whomsoever of these at the helm we set, no hurt shall befall
Our seafaring. Haste then, and unto our fellows tell forth all,
And unto the high emprise arouse them with heartening word.’
So spake he; the soul of the other with gladness exceeding was stirred.
No whit did he tarry, but straight in the midst of them all did he say,
‘Ho, friends!—why cherish we thus a bootless sorrow for aye?  {880}
For I ween these twain by the doom first drawn with their life’s lot died:
But in this our array there be found with us other helmsmen beside,
Yea, many an one: let us put them to proof: make we no stay;
But rouse ye unto the deed, and cast your griefs away.’
But in helpless despair unto him did the son of Aison say:
‘O Aiakus’ son, these helmsmen of thine—now where be they?
For they which concerning their cunning therein once vaunted loud,
Even these yet more than I with vexation of spirit are bowed.
For us then, as for the dead, ill doom doth mine heart foretell,
Whose lot shall be never to win to the town of Aiêtes the fell,  {890}
No, neither ever again to pass through the grim sea-gate
To the land of Hellas returning; but now shall an evil fate,
As we wax old deedless, enshroud us nameless and fameless here.’
He spake: but Ankaius eagerly proffered himself to steer
The sea-swift ship; for within him the power of the Goddess was strong.
Erginus and Nauplius then, and Euphêmus forth from the throng
Strode, eager all for the helm: but their comrades drew back these,
For that none would they have but Ankaius to guide them over the seas.
So then on the twelfth day hied them adown the Argo’s crew
At dawn; for the West-wind now, the mighty wafter, blew.  {900}
Speedily out of the Acheron’s mouth with the oars they passed,
And they shook the broad sail forth to the wind, and far and fast
With outspread canvas cleaving the leagues of summer wave,
By the outfall of Kallichorus the river swiftly they drave,
The place where the child Nysaian of Zeus, as the tale doth tell,
When, leaving the tribes of the Indians, in Thêbê he came to dwell,
Held revel, and dances in front of the cave did the God array
Wherein, through the nights unsmiling, in hallowed slumber he lay.
Wherefore the people called it the River of Dances Fair,
And the cavern the Bedchamber, seeing a God once slumbered there.  {910}
Thereafter espied they the barrow of Sthenelus, Aktor’s son,
Who, when from valorous battle against the Amazon
He was turning aback,—for with Herakles thither to war had he hied,—
By an arrow was smitten, and there on the surf-lashed sea-strand died.
Nor yet for a space did they sail on thence; for Persephonê, won
By his prayers and tears, sent forth the spirit of Aktor’s son
A moment to gaze upon men of passions like to his own.
So he mounted the crest of his barrow: on Argo looked he down,
Even such to behold as when to the war he went. On his head
His beautiful helm four-crested flashed with its plume blood-red.  {920}
Then down into blackness of darkness returned he: they looked thereon,
And marvelled. Then by the word of prophecy Ampykus’ son,
Mopsus, caused them to land, and to pay drink-offerings due.
So furled they the sail in haste, and the hawsers forth they threw;
And there on the strand round Sthenelus’ grave-mound gathered they.
Drink-offerings they poured, and the fatlings of sacrifice did they slay.
And, besides the libations, an altar they built, laying thighs on the blaze
To Apollo the Saviour of Ships; and his lyre did Orpheus upraise
And dedicate; wherefore the ‘Lyre’ from that day called they the place.
Then straight, when the wind blew strong, did they board the galley again,  {930}
And they dropped the sail from the yard, and the feet thereof did they strain
On either hand with the sheets; and over the sea did she fly
Swift-racing, as when some hawk through the welkin soaring high
To the breeze committeth his wings, and is borne fast: onward sweeping
He stirreth them not, on restful pinions in mid-heaven sleeping.
And lo, by the streams of Parthenius’ seaward-murmuring water,
Most softly-sliding of rivers, they passed, where Lêto’s Daughter,
What time from the hunting she cometh, ere up to the heaven she go,
In its lovely ripples cooleth her limbs from the summer-glow.
Then through the night-tide onward and onward unresting they sped.  {940}
Past Sêsamus, past the long Erythinian steeps they fled;
By Krôbialus and by Krômne, Kytôrus the forest-crowned;
Then, as the sun’s shafts glanced o’er the waters, swept they around
Karambis; and still by an endless strand the oars they plied
Through the livelong day, and on through the night, when the daylight died.
On the shore of Assyria they landed, where Zeus to Sinopê, the child
Of Asôpus, had given a home. By his own rash promise beguiled
Zeus’ self bestowed on the maiden the gift of her maidenhood.
For he longed for her love, and he promised that, whatsoever she would,
He would give her her heart’s desire, and he sealed the pledge with his nod:  {950}
And she in her subtlety asked her maidenhood of the God.
So in like wise made she a mock of Apollo, whose soul was fain
Of her couch, and of Halys the river withal. Nor did any man gain
His desire, in the arms of love to embrace her, and humble her pride.
Now there did noble Trikkaian Deïmachus’ sons abide,—
Even three, Deïleon, Autolykus, Phlogius withal, were these,—
Since the day when they wandered away from the host of Herakles.
And these, when they marked draw near the warrior-chiefs’ array,
Went shoreward to meet them, and told them in all truth who were they.
Neither willed they there to abide any longer, but fared with the crew  {960}
In Argo, so soon as the cloud-dispelling south-wind blew.
So in their company went they borne by the breeze swift-blowing,
And Halys the river they left, and Iris beside him flowing,
And the river-delta land of Assyria: the selfsame day
They rounded the headland that sheltered the Amazons’ harbour-bay.
Melanippê, Arêtus’ child, forth-faring, by ambuscade
Of Herakles there was caught, and her sister Hippolytê paid
For her ransom the Belt of renown, the splendour-gleaming band:
So the hero sent her back, and she gat no hurt of his hand.
In the harbour that beareth her name, where seaward Thermodon pours  {970}
Ran they ashore, for that contrary now was the wind to their course.
That river—on earth there is not his like; there is none that doth spread
Over the land so many streams from his fountain-head.
There should lack but four of a hundred, if one should tell them o’er
Each after each, and from one true fountain do all these pour.
Down from the mountains high to the plains it sendeth its rills,
From the heights which be called, men say, the Amazonian Hills.
Thence over the hilly country inland-straying they flow
Ever onward, albeit their paths in manifold windings go
This way and that evermore, wheresoever on low-lying ground  {980}
They may light, so roll they along; and this one afar shall be found,
And that one anear; and nameless many an one is lost
Swallowed up in the sands; and a blended remnant of all that host
Into perilous Pontus plunge with arching crests high-tossed.
And, there as they tarried, in battle against the Amazon horde
Had they closed, and in that grim strife had blood been as water outpoured;
For all ungentle the Amazons are, neither have they regard
Unto justice, the terrible ones who the plain Doiantian ward;
But the deeds of the War-god they love, and outrage of tyrannous scorn;
For the daughters of Ares they are, of the Nymph Harmonia born:Â Â {990}
For she bare to the Man-destroyer the battle-revelling maids,
When their couch was spread mid the folds of Alkmonian forest-glades:—
But again from Zeus ’gan blow the breath of the fair south-wind;
So sped by the blast they left the rounded foreland behind,
While the Themiskyreian Amazons yet were arming for war:
For in one great city assembled they dwelt not, but sundered afar
From their fellows throughout the land were the tribes of them parted in three;
In the one place Themiskyreians, whose queen was Hippolytê
In that old time; and there the Lykastians dwelt, and anon
Dart-hurling Chadisians yonder. The next day sped they on,  {1000}
And at nightfall unto the land of the Chalyban men they won.
That folk drive never the ploughing oxen afield: no part
Have they in the planting of fruit that as honey is sweet to the heart;
Neither lead they the pasturing flocks over meadows a-glitter with dew:
But the ribs of the stubborn earth for the treasure of iron they hew,
And by merchandise of the same do they live: never dawning broke
Bringing respite of toil unto them, but ever midst mirk of smoke
And flame at the forge are they moiling and plying the weary stroke.
Round the headland of Zeus the All-begetter swept they then;
And safely they sped by the land of the Tibarenian men.  {1010}
When a woman in that land beareth a child to her lord, on his bed
Doth her husband cast him adown, and he groaneth with close-swathed head
As in anguish of travail, the while the woman with tender care
Doth nurse him and feed, and for him the child-birth bath doth prepare.
The Sacred Mountain thereafter, and that land passed they by
Wherein the Mossynœcians dwell amid mountains high
In their towers of timber goodly-wrought, and they call the same
‘Mossyni,’ wherefrom moreover the nation hath gotten its name.
Strange is the justice of these, and customs uncouth have they.
Whatsoe’er we be wont to do before men in the sight of the day,  {1020}
Or the market-stead, all this they perform their houses within;
And whatso we do in our chambers apart, they account it not sin
Without, in the midst of the streets of their city, to do unblamed.
No modesty have they in love, but as rooting swine unshamed,
No whit abashed for the eyes of beholders that stand thereby,
On the earth for their bed of love with their women unwedded they lie.
In their loftiest block-house sitteth their king, and holdeth his court,
Decreeing his righteous judgments to them that thither resort.
Ah, luckless wight!—if perchance in his sentence he swerve from the right,
Unto prison they hale him, therein to fast till falleth the night.  {1030}
These passed they by, and well-nigh overagainst the shores
Of the Isle of Ares they cleft them a path with unresting oars
Through the livelong day, for the gentle breeze in the gloaming died.
Then all in a moment one of the War-god’s birds they espied,
Which haunt that isle, through the welkin darting high overhead;
And behold, his pinions he shook, and down on the ship as she sped
A feather keen hath he shot: to the leftward shoulder it sprang
Of Oïleus: he dropped from his hands his oar at the sudden pang
Of the stroke, and they marvelled all when the feather-arrow they saw.
But the shaft from the flesh did his rowing-mate Eribôtes draw;  {1040}
And he bound up the wound; for his baldric-band he unclasped, that bare
His sword-sheath hanging beside him. Sweeping on through the air
Came another of those fell birds: but already the bow was bent
Of the hero Klytius, Eurytus’ son: from the string hath he sent
A swift-flying arrow against that fowl, and the shaft struck home.
Down whirling beside the swift ship splashed the bird in the foam.
Then cried Amphidamas Aleüs’ son, and thus spake he:
‘Nigh to us now is the Island of Ares: ye know it, who see
Yon fowl of ravin; and little shall arrows avail us, I trow,
To win us a peaceful landing thereon; but contrive we now  {1050}
Some other device for our help, if indeed we be minded to land,
Remembering Phineus’ word, and the sightless seer’s command.
For not great Herakles’ self, to Arcadia-land when he came,
Availed with his arrows to drive away those birds that swam
The Stymphalian mere: yea, I with mine eyes beheld that thing.
But he stood on a crag exceeding high, loud-clattering
With clash and clang in his hands his brazen battle-gear;
And far away did they flee wild-screaming in panic fear.
Wherefore contrive we now even such device as his,—
Yea, I will speak it, who heretofore have thought upon this:—  {1060}
Set we upon our heads our helmets of lofty crest,
And changing about in turn let the half of us row, and the rest
With polished lances and bucklers fence the galley about;
And all with one accord upraise ye a mighty shout,
That the birds by the noise may be scared, by the wild unwonted cry,
As they look on our nodding crests and the bright spears tossed on high.
And if through the storm of their shafts to the island itself we shall win,
Then with clashing of brazen bucklers raise ye a mighty din.’
So spake he, and good in the sight of them all that counsel seemed.
On the heads of the heroes straightway the brazen helmets gleamed  {1070}
Terribly flashing; above them tossed the plumes blood-red.
And the half of them now in their turn the galley with oars on-sped;
And with lances and shields did the rest for Argo a covering raise.
And as when with tiling a man hath roofed his dwelling-place,
For a beauty upon his abode and a fence from the rain thereto,
And close-set each after each are they ranged in order due;
Even so did they lock their shields, so roofed they the galley o’er.
And as when from a warrior-throng upriseth the onset-roar,
When the ranks are sweeping on, when the squadrons in battle close,
Even so from the galley on high to the welkin the shout of them rose.  {1080}
Now none of the birds yet saw they: but when, as they touched the strand
Of the island, they clashed on their bucklers, straightway on every hand
From the earth by tens of thousands uprose they in sudden dread.
And as when by the Son of Kronos the hail thick-falling is shed
From the clouds on a town and its dwellings; the house-abiders the while,
As they hearken the clatter that rattles unceasing on timber and tile,
Untroubled are sitting: the stormy tide hath smitten the roof
Not unforeseen; long since had they made all tempest-proof:
So on the men thick-showering feather-shafts did they pour,
As they darted on high o’er the sea to the hills on the farther shore.  {1090}
Now what was the purpose of Phineus in bidding that hero-array
Land on the War-god’s isle? What help against the day
Of their need were they destined to win of their tarrying there on the way?
The sons of Phrixus unto Orchomenus voyaging
Had been sent from Aia forth by Kytaian Aiêtes the king.
In a galley of Kolchis they sailed, that the measureless wealth might be theirs
Of their sire, for in death had he so commanded these his heirs.
And exceeding nigh that day to the isle had they drawn; but lo,
The might of the wind of the north did Zeus awaken to blow,
Marking with rain the watery path of Arcturus the star.  {1100}
Yet through the day-tide he stirred but the leaves on the mountains afar,
Breathing but lightly over the uttermost ends of the sprays:
But at night on the sea he descended, a tempest-Titan, to raise
The surge with his blasts wild-shrieking: a black mist shrouded the sky,
And never the gleam of a star might the mariners’ ken descry
Through the clouds, but over the sea’s face brooded murky gloom.
And the sons of Phrixus quaking for fear of a horrible doom
Were helplessly hurled o’er the surges, and drenched with the flying spume.
And the sail by the might of the blast was snatched away, and crashed
Their ship’s hull, shattered in twain by the breakers thereover that dashed.  {1110}
Then by the Gods’ own prompting they clutched, and as one man clung
Those four to a mighty spar,—for that many an one had been flung
Wide from the scattered wreck,—firm-knit by the strong bolts’ clasp;
And on to the isle, evermore but a little beyond death’s grasp,
The waves and the sweep of the tempest bare them in misery.
Then burst forth rain: no tongue could tell it,—it rained on the sea,
On the island; and overagainst the island the floods of it fell
Over all the land where the lawless Mossynœcians dwell.
And along with the massy beam the sweep of the surges bore
The sons of Phrixus on to the island’s rocky shore  {1120}
In the black dark night. But the floods of Zeus-descended rain
Ceased with the dawn: and they met full soon, those companies twain.
Then Argus first found voice, and to Argo’s crew spake he:
‘We beseech you by All-beholder Zeus, whosoever ye be
Of men, to have mercy and succour us now in our helplessness;
For buffeted long have we been on the sea by the rough winds’ stress,
Till sundered and shattered the beams of our crazy galley were.
By your knees we entreat you then, if ye haply will hearken our prayer,
To cover our nakedness now, and to take us whither ye go:
As youths taking pity on youths, compassionate ye our woe!  {1130}
O reverence ye the strangers and suppliants for Zeus’s sake,
Who is Lord of the stranger and suppliant—yea, both names we take,
Even strangers and suppliants of Zeus; and over us all is his eye.’
But with heedful questioning then did Aison’s son reply,
For he weened that fulfilment of Phineus’ prophecy now was nigh:
‘All these will we give straightway with kindly heart and hand.
But prithee now answer me truth, and tell how name ye the land
Wherein ye be dwellers;—for what need thus have ye sailed the sea?
And your names of renown tell out, and the lineage whereof ye be.’
Then Argus, as one in despairing wretchedness, answered low:Â Â {1140}
‘How Phrixus the Aiolid came unto Aia from Hellas, I trow,
Yourselves have certainly heard, have heard ere this the renown
Of Phrixus, who came on a day to Aiêtes’ fortress-town
Bestriding the ram which Hermes created all of gold:
Yea, and the fleece thereof this day may ye yet behold;
For the ram by the beast’s own counsel a sacrifice did he give
To Kronion the Fugitives’ Zeus. And him did Aiêtes receive
In his palace, and gave him to wife his daughter Chalkiopê,
Nor for gifts of wooing he asked, in the joy of his heart and the glee.
Of these twain we be the children; but Phrixus our father hath died,  {1150}
An old man stricken with years, in Aiêtes’ halls of pride.
And straightway we, giving heed to the word that our father spake,
To Orchomenus journey, Athamas’ goods in possession to take.
And if, as thy word was, thou wouldst that our names be made known unto thee,
Behold, Kytisôrus is this man named, and Phrontis he;
And yonder is Melas, and Argus me myself shall ye call.’
He spake, and for this forgathering glad were the heroes all:
And they ministered unto them, marvelling much: but Jason again
Spake as was meet and right, for his heart of the tidings was fain:
‘Lo now, of a surety kinsmen ye are of my sire, which have prayed  {1160}
That with merciful hearts we would look upon this your affliction, and aid.
For of one blood, even brethren, Kretheus and Athamas were;
And Kretheus’ grandson am I, with these my companions who fare
From the selfsame Hellas, and unto Aiêtes’ city I sail.
But of all these things to commune shall another time avail.
But now put raiment upon you: it came to pass, I trow,
By devising of Gods that ye came to mine hands in your sore need so.’
So spake he, and out of the ship he gave them raiment to don.
And all together now unto Ares’ fane are they gone
For the sacrificing of sheep, and in all haste round about  {1170}
The altar they ranged them, which stood that roofless fane without,
An altar of pebbles: within was a mighty stone upreared,
A holy thing, which of yore the Amazons all revered.
And it was not their wont, from the further strand when they came o’er the deep,
On this same altar to burn in sacrifice oxen nor sheep;
But horses they slew, and for this great herds were they wont to keep.
There sacrificed they, and they ate of the flesh of the victims slain.
Then Aison’s son in their midst uprose, and he spake yet again:
‘Zeus’ self upon all things looketh, nor ever escape we his ken
Of a surety, such as be god-revering and righteous men.  {1180}
Even so your father delivered he out of the murderous hand
Of a stepdame, and gave to him measureless wealth in a far-away land:
And even so you also scatheless again did he save
From the baleful storm. Now in this ship, whithersoever ye crave,
This way or that, may ye fare; or aback unto Aia’s shore,
Or the wealthy city that godlike Orchomenus builded of yore.
For our ship did Athênê fashion, and clave her beams with the brass
By Pelion’s crest, and her fellow-craftsman our Argus was.
But that your galley was shattered, and whelmed in ruining surge,
Ere nigh to the rocks ye came, the which in the wild sea-gorge  {1190}
Each against other the livelong day are clashing amain.
But go to now, be ye helpers with us; for lo, we be fain
To bring that Fleece of Gold to the land of Hellas again.
Be our voyaging guides. Lo, thus do I sail to atone for their deed
Who would sacrifice Phrixus, and brought Zeus’ wrath upon Aiolus’ seed.’
So spake he exhorting, and ceased; but with horror they heard that thing,
For they deemed they should find Aiêtes nowise a gentle king
Who would win that Fleece of the Ram. Then Argus spake the word,
In vexation of spirit that these unto suchlike quest should be stirred:
‘O friends, so far as availeth our strength, no whit at all  {1200}
Our help shall fail you at need, what trial soever befall.
But terribly armed is Aiêtes with murderous cruelty;
Wherefore I dread exceedingly thither to fare oversea.
And he vaunteth himself the Sun-god’s seed, and around him dwell
The Kolchian tribes untold. In the awful onset-yell,
And in giant strength, might he match him with Ares’ self in the fray.
Nay, nay, not easy it is to take that Fleece away
From Aiêtes, so mighty a serpent around and about it is coiled,
Deathless and sleepless. The Earth brought forth that dragon-child
Mid Caucasus’ glens, where the Rock Typhonian standeth: they say  {1210}
There Typhon, smitten by levin-bolts of Zeus, in the day
When against Kronion he lifted his brawny hands in fight,
Dropped from his head hot-gushing the gore, and in such ill plight
To the hills and the Plain Nisaian he came, and to this day there
’Neath the waters whelmed doth he lie of the dark Serbonian mere.’
So spake he, and many a face of them that heard grew white
To know what manner of emprise was this. But spake forthright
Peleus, and answered with words of gallant chiding, and said:
‘Nay, good my friend, not thus let thy spirit be over-adread,
For that not so lacking in prowess be we, that our hearts should fear  {1220}
To make trial of manhood against Aiêtes in battle-gear.
Nay, but I trow we also have somewhat of cunning in war
Which thitherward fare; for by blood of the kin of the Blessèd we are.
If therefore in all lovingkindness he yield not the Fleece of Gold,
Little, I ween, shall avail him his Kolchian tribes untold.’
In such wise each unto other they spake, and in such wise replied,
Till they turned to their rest, fulfilled of the feast of the eventide.
And at dawn, when they wakened from slumber, a light wind softly blew;
And they hoised up the sail: in the breeze of the morning the canvas drew.
And away from the War-god’s Island sped they far and fast;  {1230}
And now at the falling of night by Philyra’s island they passed.
There Kronos, Ouranos’ son, what time in Olympus he reigned
O’er the Titans, and Zeus yet a babe in the Cretan Cave was sustained
In life by the priests, the Curêtes of Ida,—with Philyra lay
When he baffled Rheia’s watch; but the Goddess amidst of their play
Came suddenly on them: and Kronos leapt from the dalliance-bed,
And away in the form of a steed of tossing mane he sped.
But Ocean’s daughter forsook that land and folk in her shame;
And unto the long Pelasgian ridges Philyra came,
Where Cheiron the monster, the half of him horse, but otherwhere  {1240}
Goodly to see as a God, for a pledge of love she bare.
Thence past the Makronian people, and past the far-stretching land
Of Becheirans they ran, past overweening Sapeirans’ strand,
And past the Byzêrans thereafter; for forward cleaving the seas
Went rushing the prow evermore, on-borne by the gentle breeze.
And to them, as they sped by, opened a Pontic gulf cleft deep;
And lo, the Caucasian mountains’ precipice-wall rose steep—
Sheer cliffs; and Prometheus there, with his limbs to the rough rocks gripped
By brazen gyves, whose knots no writhings have riven nor slipped,
Fed with his liver an eagle that aye swooped back on the prey.  {1250}
High over their mast at even a whir and a rush heard they;
And anigh to the clouds they beheld it: yet even from that far height
Did it shake the sail with the fanning of those vast pinions’ flight:
For the form and the measure thereof was like no fowl of the air,
But as polished oars most huge its swift-swaying wing-feathers were.
Nor long thereafter they heard an exceeding bitter cry,
As torn was Prometheus’ liver, and rang the vault of the sky
With his screaming, until again from the mountain darting back
They marked where the ravening eagle sped on the selfsame track.
And at nightfall, by guidance of Argus, the broad-flowing stream did they gain  {1260}
Of Phasis, and there was the uttermost bourne of the Pontic main.
Then straightway the sail they furled, and the yard-arm let they fall,
And stowed in the mast-trough then; and the mast unstepped they withal,
And lowered in haste, till it lay along: then rowed they fast
Into the river’s mighty stream; round the prow as they passed
He surged as he yielded them way; and they had on the leftward hand
High Caucasus now, and the city Kytaian of Aia-land;
And to rightward the plain and the holy grove of the War-god lay
Where keepeth the serpent watch and ward on the Fleece alway,
As it hangeth amidst of the thick-leaved boughs of an oak outspread.  {1270}
And Aison’s son himself from a golden chalice shed
Into the river libations of sweet unmingled wine
Unto Earth, to the Gods of the land, to the Spirits of Heroes divine
Which had died, and with bowed knees prayed them their sorrowless help to give
Of their grace, and with welcome propitious the hawsers of Argo receive.
Then straightway Ankaios spake the word to his fellows, and cried:
‘Lo now, to the Kolchian land have we won, where the waters glide
Of Phasis:—the time is come for counsel, to choose our part,
If with soft words now we shall make assay of Aiêtes’ heart,
Or if other endeavour perchance shall avail us in this our need.’  {1280}
So spake he, and Jason thereon commanded, by Argus’ rede,
To a backwater leaf-overshadowed to run the galley aside,
And to warp her up to the anchor-stone, off-shore to ride:
Now the place was anigh to them then. So slept they there through the night,
And soon to their longing eyes appeared the dawning’s light.