When only two thirds of the day had passed, in the bright afternoon, the whole field was ploughed, though it measured more than four acres. And now he unharnessed the bulls and threatened them with his weapons, so that they fled in fear. The hero himself returned to the ship, for the furrows still showed no sign of life.
His comrades surrounded him with loud acclaim, but he said nothing, only filled his helmet with water from the river and quenched his burning thirst. Then he felt the joints of his legs and his heart filled with fresh joy of combat, even as a raging boar grinds his teeth in readiness for the huntsmen. For all along the field the harvest was up. The entire grove of Ares bristled with shields and sharp lances and glittered so brightly with helmets that the gleam flashed up to the sky. Then Jason remembered the words of wily Medea. He picked up a great round stone. Four strong men could not have lifted it from the ground, but he took it effortlessly in his hand and tossed it far among the warriors who had sprung up from the earth. Bold yet cautious, he crouched down on one knee and covered himself with his shield. The Colchians shouted aloud as the waves roar when they break on jagged rock, and Aeetes stared at that astonishing throw in undisguised wonder. But the earthborn men fell upon one another like snarling dogs, and each killed the other with dull cries of rage. Stricken down by their spears, they fell to Mother Earth like pines or oaks uprooted by a whirlwind. When the fight was hottest, Jason rushed among them like a shooting star which falls through the dark air of night and seems an omen sent by the gods. He unsheathed his sword, pierced now this one, now that, struck down some who were already up, mowed down like grass others who had grown out only to their shoulders, and cleft the heads of still others running to join in the battle. The furrows streamed with blood. Dead and wounded fell on all sides, and many sank into the earth almost as deep as they had been sown.
Anger gnawed at the soul of King Aeetes. Without a word he left the shore and returned to the city, brooding only on how he could rid himself of Jason and inflict some grim hurt upon him to boot. These events had taken up the day. It was dusk. Jason rested from his labors, and around him his friends rejoiced.
MEDEA TAKES THE GOLDEN FLEECE
All night long with the ciders among his people King Aeetes held council in the palace, how the Argonauts might be outwitted, for he was well aware that all that had happened the past day could not have taken place without the help of his daughters. Hera, queen of the gods, saw the danger threatening Jason and filled Medea’s heart with misgivings, until she trembled as a deer in the depths of the forest at the bay of the hounds. She at once divined that her father had guessed the truth, and she also feared that her handmaids might well know of the matter. Tears burned under her lids, and there was a rushing in her ears. She let her hair hang dishevelled, as though in mourning, and if Fate had not willed otherwise, she would have taken poison and so put an end to her misery that very hour. Her hand already held the brimming cup, when Hera revived her courage and turned her purpose, so that she poured the poison back into the flask. She regained command of herself and resolved to flee, covered her couch and the doorposts with kisses, touched the walls of her room one last time, sheared a lock from her head, and put it on her bed for her mother to remember her by.
“Farewell, dear mother,” she said with a voice full of tears. “Farewell, Chalciope, and all the house! O stranger, it would have been better had you drowned in the sea before coming to Colchis!”
And she left her cherished home as a captive flees the harsh prison where he has been enslaved. The palace gates flew open at her murmured spells. On bare feet she ran along narrow paths, drawing the veil over her cheeks with her left hand, while her right raised the hem of her garment to keep it from the ground. The watchmen did not recognize her, and soon she had passed beyond the confines of the city and was hastening to the temple by a little-known road, for in gathering roots and herbs for her potions and poisonous brews she had come to know all the trails through field and wood. Selene, goddess of the moon, saw her and said smilingly to herself, as she shed her radiance upon the earth: “So others too are tormented by love, as I for my beautiful Endymion! Often have you driven me from the sky with your magic. Now you, yourself, are suffering agonies for Jason. Well, go if you must, but do not think that your craftiness will avail to escape the bitterest sorrow of all.”
So said Selene to herself, but Medea went her way on swift feet. And now she turned toward the shore, where the great fire, which the Argonauts had lit and tended all night in Jason’s honor, served to guide her. When she was opposite the ship, she called Phrontis, her sister’s youngest son, and he, along with Jason, recognized her voice and replied three times to her triple call. The heroes, who had heard and seen, were astonished at first, but then they rowed to meet her. Before the ship was moored, Jason leaped ashore, and Phrontis and Argus followed him.
“Save me,” cried the girl, clasping their knees. “Save yourselves and me from my father! All is betrayed, and there is no help. Let us flee on the ship before he can mount his swift horse. I will get you the golden fleece by putting the dragon to sleep. But you, O stranger, swear by your gods and in the presence of your friends, that you will not disgrace me when I am alone, an alien in your land.”
She said this sadly, but Jason rejoiced in his heart. Gently he raised her from her knees, embraced her and said: “Beloved, let Zeus and Hera, the patron goddess of marriage, be my witnesses that I shall take you into my house as my rightful wife as soon as we are back in Greece.” This he swore and laid his hand in hers. Then Medea bade the heroes row to the sacred grove to take the golden fleece that very night. The ship flew on with arrowy speed. Jason and the girl left it before dawn and took the path across the meadow. In the grove they found the tall oak on which the golden fleece hung, shining through the night like a morning cloud suffused with the first beams of the sun. But facing it was the sleepless dragon, whose sharp eyes pierced the distance. He stretched his long neck toward the comers and hissed so fiercely that the margin of the river and the whole forest echoed the sound. As flames roll through a burning wood, so the monster with his glittering scales wound his way, loop upon loop. But the girl went toward him boldly and made a sweet-voiced prayer to Sleep, the most powerful of the gods, to lull the dragon to rest. And she begged the great queen of the underworld to bless her doing. Jason followed her fearfully, but already the dragon was growing drowsy at the girl’s magical song. He lowered the arch of his back and stretched out the coils of his vast body. Only the horrid head was still upright and threatened to devour them both with its open jaws. But now, with a sprig of juniper, Medea sprinkled magic dew into his eyes while she conjured him with certain words. Drowsiness flowed over him at the fragrance of the liquid: he closed his jaws, spread his scaly length through the wood, and slept.
At her word, Jason pulled the fleece from the oak, while she kept sprinkling the dragon’s head with her magic tincture. Then they hurried from the dense grove, and from afar Jason held up the broad ram’s fleece, which shed a gleam over his forehead and his blond hair and lit up the dark path. He carried the shimmering treasure over his left shoulder, and it hung from his neck to his ankles. But then he rolled it up for fear that if man or god encountered him, he might rob him of his precious burden. At dawn they boarded the vessel, and the Argonauts surrounded their leader and marvelled at the fleece, which glittered like the lightning of Zeus. Each wanted to touch it with his hands, but Jason would not allow this and hid it under a cloak. He seated the girl in the stern of the ship and said to his friends: “Now let us travel quickly to our native land. This girl’s counsel has helped us accomplish what we undertook. In return I shall take her into my house as my lawful wife. And you must help me protect her, for she is the rescuer of all Greece. Besides, I have no doubt that soon Aeetes will come with his people and try to prevent us from leaving the river for the open sea. So let half of us row, while the other half hold our great shields of oxhide toward the foe and so cover our retreat.
For our return to our own people and the honor or shame of Greece are in our hands.”
With these words he cut the ropes that held the ship, armed himself, and took his place near the girl beside Ancaeus, the helmsman. The swift oars smote the waves, and the ship glided down to the mouth of the river.
THE ARGONAUTS ABE PURSUED AND ESCAPE WITH MEDEA
In the meantime Aeetes and all the Colchians had learned of Medea’s infatuation, of her actions, and her flight. They met in the market place, fully armed, and soon after marched to the riverbank with a rattling of arms like the sound of thunder. Aeetes rode in a well-joined chariot drawn by the horses the sun-god had given him. In his left hand he carried a round shield, in his right a long pitch torch. At his side leaned his tall and heavy lance. His son Absyrtus held the reins. But when they reached the mouth of the river, the ship, driven on by its tireless rowers, had already gained the open sea. Torch and shield dropped from the king’s fingers. He raised his hands to heaven, called on Zeus and Apollo to witness the wrong done to him, and sullenly declared to his subjects that unless they seized his daughter on land or on sea and brought her to him so that he could revenge himself to his heart’s desire, they should all lose their heads. The terrified Colchians put out to sea that very day, hoisted sail, and sped in pursuit of Medea. Their fleet, under the command of Absyrtus, the son of Aeetes, looked like an endless flock of birds which darken the air as they trail over the waters.
A favorable wind bellied out the sails of the Argonauts, and on the morning of the third day they entered the river Halys and moored their ship to the shore of Paphlagonia. Here, at Medea’s request, they made offering to the goddess Hecate, who had saved them. Then their leader, and some of the others as well, remembered that Phineus, the aged prophet, had bidden them return by another route. None of them knew these regions, but Argus, son of Phrixus, came to the rescue, for from the writings of priests he had learned that they were to steer for the river Ister, which rises from springs in the Rhipaean Mountains and divides into many branches, so that the wealth of its waters pours into both the Ionian and the Sicilian Sea. When Argus had advised them thus, the sky was suddenly cleft by a broad rainbow in the quarter toward which they were supposed to sail. A fair wind blew and blew, and the sign in the heavens shone on and on, until they were safe in that mouth of the river Ister which empties into the Ionian Sea.
But the Colchians had not ceased in their pursuit and, since they had lighter ships and could sail more swiftly, they arrived at the mouth of the Ister before the Argonauts and scattered among the various bays and islands. There they lay in wait for the heroes and blocked their passage to the sea after they had cast anchor in the delta of the river. The Argonauts, who were alarmed at the great numbers of the enemy, went ashore and occupied one of the islands. The Colchians followed them, and it seemed that battle must ensue. Then the harried Greeks began to negotiate, and both sides finally agreed that the Argonauts were, at all events, to carry off the golden fleece which the king had promised Jason for his labors. But Medea, the king’s daughter, was to be left on another island, in the temple of Artemis, until a neighboring king, noted for his justice, should decide whether she was to return to her father or follow the heroes to Greece. When the girl heard this, she grew frantic with fear, took her beloved aside to a place where his companions could not hear her, and pleaded with him tearfully. “Jason, what are you going to do with me? Has your good fortune made you forgetful of everything you solemnly swore to me when you were in terrible need? How thoughtless I was to stake my hopes upon you, hold cheap my honor, and leave my fatherland, my house, my parents, and all I loved best! It is because of what I did for you that I am now borne far over the open sea. My foolhardiness got you the golden fleece. For you I yielded up my maidenhood and am following you to Greece as yours, as your wife. But now, because of all this, you must protect me. Do not leave me here alone! Nor let kings pronounce judgment upon me! If I am allotted to my father I am lost. And how could you, then, rejoice in your return? How could Hera, the wife of Zeus, whom you boast as your protectress, approve such a course? If you abandon me, the time will come when, deep in disaster, you will think of Medea, when the golden fleece will slip from you like a dream. Then vengeful spirits shall drive you from your native land, just as I, through your trickery, was driven from mine!”
So she spoke, maddened with passion, and would gladly have set fire to the ship, burned up everything, and cast herself into the flames. Jason looked at her and grew uncertain. His conscience smote him, and he said propitiatingly: “Compose yourself! I was not serious in closing this agreement. It is only for your sake that we are trying to delay the battle, because our foes are thick as locusts in summer. All who live here are friends of the Colchians and would help your brother Absyrtus capture you and take you back to your father. Besides, if we fought now, we should all perish miserably, and your lot would be still more hopeless, for with us dead, you would fall a prey to the foe. This agreement, I tell you, is only a ruse through which we hope to destroy Absyrtus. And once their leader is no more, the neighbors of the Colchians will not wish to give them aid.”
This he said to placate her, and now Medea gave him grim counsel. “I have strayed from my duties once,” she said. “Blinded by emotion I have done an evil thing. I cannot go back, and so I must go forward in crime. I will coax my brother until he gives himself into your hands. Have a lavish banquet prepared for him. I shall try to induce the heralds to leave him alone with me—and then you can kill him and vanquish the leaderless Colchians.”
So these two planned to trap Absyrtus. They sent him many gifts, including a sumptuous robe which the queen of Lemnos had once given to Jason. The Graces had woven it for Dionysus with their own hands, and in the fine mesh of the purple stuff clung the perfumes of heaven, for the god himself, drowsy with nectar, had slumbered in its folds. Medea slyly urged the heralds to bring Absyrtus to the other island, to the temple of Artemis, at dead of night, and pretended that she would devise a way for him to seize the golden fleece and take it back to King Aeetes. For she herself—so she lied—had been forcibly given over to the strangers by the sons of Phrixus. After she had thus deceived these messengers of peace, she sprinkled the wind with so much of her magic brew that the scent would have been enough to lure the wildest beast from the highest mountain. And what she hoped for took place. At midnight Absyrtus, deceived by solemn pledges, rowed to the holy island. Alone with his sister, he tried to probe her guileful mind and to discover whether she was, indeed, setting a snare for the strangers. But it was as if a boy were trying to wade a swollen mountain stream which a grown man cannot cross unimperilled, for when they were deep in talk, and his sister seemed ready to do all he asked, Jason suddenly rushed out of ambush, brandishing his naked sword. And the girl turned away and hid her eyes in her veil, so that she might not see her brother done to death. Like a victim at the altar, the king’s son fell under the blow of Jason’s blade, and Medea’s gown was splashed with her brother’s blood. But the goddess of vengeance, from whom nothing is hidden, looked forth from her secret dwelling with angry eyes and beheld the terrible deed committed here.
After Jason had cleansed himself of the blood and buried the body, Medea signalled to the Argonauts with a torch, for so it had been agreed. These drew up their ship beside the vessel in which Absyrtus had come to the island of Artemis and fell on his leaderless companions like hawks on flocks of doves, or lions on sheep. Not a single man escaped death. Jason, who came to aid his friends, was not needed. The battle was already decided.
THE ARGONAUTS ON THEIR HOMEWARD JOURNEY
On the advice of Peleus, the heroes left the mouth of the river and sped swiftly away before the remaining Colchians had realized what had happened. When they saw what had been done, they set out to pursue their foes, but Hera deterred them by kindling a flash of lightning in the sky. They feared her warning, and since they also feared the anger of their king if they returned without either his dau
ghter or his son, they remained on the isles of Artemis in the mouth of the river and settled there.
But the Argonauts continued on their way and passed many coasts and islands, among them that on which Queen Calypso, the daughter of Atlas, had her dwelling place. Already they thought they discerned the tallest peaks of their homeland rising in the distance, when Hera, fearing the plots of Zeus, stirred up a mighty storm, which drove their ship to the inhospitable Amber Islands. And now the wood from the oak of Dodona, which Athene had set in the timbers of the prow, began to speak, and the listeners shook with dread. “You will not evade the wrath of Zeus, and you will wander over the sea,” said the oak, “until Circe, the sorceress, purifies you of the cruel murder of Absyrtus. Let Castor and Polydeuces pray to the gods to point you the paths which lead to Circe, the daughter of the sun-god and Perse.”
Gods and Heroes of Ancient Greece Page 13