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Jason and the Argonauts

Page 23

by Apollonius Of Rhodes


  1150Always on lookout

  from their attractive-harbored roost, they often

  seduced seamen from honeyed homecomings

  by withering them with languidness. And so,

  without delay, and this time to the heroes,

  1155 (903)the Sirens hurled lilylike contraltos

  out of their mouths. The heroes would already

  have run aground if Orpheus of Thrace,

  son of Oeagrus, hadn’t taken up

  his lyre, set his fingers to the strings,

  1160and strummed the rhythm of a lively march

  so that their ears were buzzing with a rival

  and upbeat song. And so the lyre’s vibrations

  overpowered all those virgin voices.

  Zephyr and the resounding ocean waves

  1165rose up astern and swept the vessel onward,

  and soon the Sirens’ song was less distinct.

  Nevertheless, alone of his companions,

  Boutes the noble son of Teleon

  leapt from his sanded bench into the sea

  1170 (914)because the Sirens’ clear-toned notes had melted

  his spirit, and he swam through somber surges,

  unlucky soul, toward shore. They would have snatched

  his homecoming away right then and there

  if Cypris the Erycian Queen had not,

  1175in pity, picked him up out of the eddies

  and swept him safely to her seaside haven

  at Lilybaeum.

  So, with great regret,

  the heroes left the Sirens. Other dangers

  awaited them, however—ship-destroying

  1180menaces at the crossroads of the seas:

  Scylla appeared atop her sea-washed headland

  on one side; on the other hoarse Charybdis

  was gurgling and coughing water up.

  Not far from them, the Ever-Floating Islands

  1185 (925)were booming as the mighty sea swell struck them.

  Not long before, their summits had been venting

  blazes of fire above the liquid rock,

  and smoke so choked the atmosphere that one

  could not have spotted daylight. Then, although

  1190Hephaestus had retired from the forge,

  the sea was still emitting bursts of steam.

  The Nereids assembled at this spot

  from all directions to assist the heroes,

  and then the goddess Thetis gripped the Argo

  1195and steered it through the Ever-Floating Islands.

  As dolphins during tranquil weather rise

  out of the depths and swim about a ship,

  starboard, astern, larboard, and at the prow,

  a joy for sailors, so the Nereids

  1200 (937)emerged and synchronized their circulations

  while Thetis steered the course. Then, when the men

  were just about to hit the Floating Islands,

  Nereus’ daughters hiked their skirts

  above their gleaming knees, clambered atop

  1205the rocks protruding from the froth of surf,

  and stood in two lines, one on either side.

  The current rocked the ship starboard and larboard,

  and all around the heroes ruthless breakers

  were vaulting and exploding on the rocks,

  1210which were like cliff walls towering above them.

  Now would the ship have broken up and sunk

  to the abysmal bottom of the sea,

  and rough waves soon would have been churning fathoms

  above the wreck.

  Imagine maidens standing

  1215 (948)upon a sandy shoreline, how they roll

  their gowns up to their waists, pick up a ball,

  toss it around or high into the air

  so that it never hits the ground—that’s how

  the Nereids passed the ship to one another,

  1220keeping it in the air, above the breakers,

  always above the rocks, and all the while

  sea spray kept shooting up around the heroes.

  Mighty Hephaestus stood atop a cape

  of sea-scoured stone, his brawny shoulder leaning

  1225against a hammer’s haft, to watch them. Hera

  stood there in radiant heaven watching them

  and even threw her arms around Athena,

  so wrenching was the frightful sight she saw.

  So long as springtime stretches out the day,

  1230 (962)the sea nymphs worked at portaging the Argo

  over the roaring rocks until its sail

  picked up the wind and pulled the heroes onward.

  Once they had reached the meadows of Thrinacria

  where Helius’ cattle graze and grow,

  1235the Nereids like sea mews plunged asunder

  because they had fulfilled the will of Hera.

  Then, through the mist, the bleats of sheep arose,

  and lows, the lows of cattle, struck their ears.

  There she was—Helius’ youngest daughter

  1240Phaethousa strolling round a dewy meadow,

  a shepherdess attending to her sheep

  with silver staff in hand, while Lampeteia,

  her cowherd sister, kept a drove in line

  by brandishing a copper prod. The heroes

  1245 (975)could see the cattle feeding on the lowlands

  and flats beside the river—none of them

  were darkly colored, no, they all were white

  as milk and glorying in golden horns.

  They passed the island in the daylight hours

  1250and cleaved the billows in a cheerful mood

  all night, till Dawn the Early Riser cast

  her beams athwart their course. There is an island,

  a curved one, facing the Ionian strait

  in the Ceraunian Sea, its topsoil thick

  1255and bountiful. Beneath the island lies

  the sickle that, as ancient legends tell us—

  Muses, forgive me since I tell this story

  out of necessity—the Titan Cronus

  ruthlessly hacked his father’s privates off.

  1260 (987)Others have claimed it is the scythe that served

  Demeter, goddess of the Underworld,

  who lived upon the island once and taught

  the Titans how to harvest ears of grain.

  The island, therefore, has been called Drepana

  1265or “Scythe,” the nursemaid of the Phaeacians,

  and all of its inhabitants are sprung

  from Ouranus’ blood.

  The heroes rode

  a gale wind in from the Thrinacrian Sea

  and landed there, constrained by great exhaustion.

  1270Alcinoös and all his people greeted

  their coming warmly and with sacrifices.

  The whole town reveled, and you would have thought

  that they were toasting their own sons’ return.

  The heroes felt as happy meeting them

  1275 (1000)as if they had regained Haemonia.

  Soon, though, they drew their swords and raised the

  war cry—

  in ranks before them stood a countless host

  of Colchians who had passed the Pontic mouth

  and Clashing Rocks to apprehend the heroes.

  1280They swore that they would either seize the girl

  immediately or raise the battle cry

  and fight to win their claim both then and there

  and in the future once their king arrived.

  But King Alcin
oös restrained their zeal

  1285to start a battle. He preferred to settle

  the troublesome dispute without both sides

  embracing war. All in a killing fear,

  the maiden pleaded time and time again

  with Jason and his men and grasped the knees

  1290 (1013)of King Alcinoös’ wife Arete:

  “Queen, I beseech you, please have pity on me.

  Do not surrender me unto the Colchians

  to carry to my father. Please do not

  be one among the race of humankind

  1295whose minds by minor errors tumble rashly

  into disaster—so my mind went tumbling . . .

  but no, no, it was not because of lust.

  Let Helius’ sacrosanct resplendence

  and the unspoken rites of Perses’ daughter,

  1300the Nighttime Walker, vouch for the duress

  under which I eloped with all these men.

  Fear, it was dreadful fear that made me think

  of running off when I had gone astray.

  No way around elopement could be found.

  1305 (1024)My virgin belt remains as innocent

  and undefiled as in my father’s palace.

  Pity me, lady, and convince your husband.

  So may the gods bestow on you a perfect

  life, and renown, and children, and the glory

  1310of an eternally unconquered city.”

  So with a flood of tears she begged Arete

  and then approached, in turn, her friends the heroes:

  “Because of you, O mightiest men of all,

  because of your affairs, I now am sunk

  1315in desperation. It was with my help

  you yoked the bulls and reaped the fatal crop

  of earthborn soldiers. Thanks to me, you shortly

  will sail away to bring the golden fleece

  back to Haemonia. And here I am,

  1320 (1036)bereft of country, parents, home, and all

  life’s pleasures, while I have restored to you

  your homes and homeland, and your honeyed eyes

  will gaze again upon your parents. No,

  some grievous god has ripped those pleasures from me,

  1325and I am wandering the sea with strangers,

  a derelict. Beware your oaths and vows;

  beware the Fury who avenges suppliants;

  beware the gods’ resentment when I tumble

  into Aeëtes’ hands and perish piecemeal

  1330under unending agony and torture.

  There stand before me in defense no temples,

  no guardian towers, no battlements, but you,

  just you alone, men ruthless in their coldness,

  wretches who suffer not a hint of shame

  1335 (1048)on seeing me, a helpless little girl,

  embrace the knees of an exotic queen.

  When you were burning to acquire the fleece,

  you would have rushed to join your spears in battle

  against the Colchians and proud Aeëtes.

  1340Now you forget your courage, though these men

  are all alone and far from reinforcements.”

  So she exclaimed and begged, and every man

  she supplicated tried to hearten her

  and soothe her misery. They drew their swords,

  1345brandished their sharply whetted spears, and swore

  that they would not hold back from saving her

  if she should meet with an unlucky judgment.

  Night, though, the rest from labors, soon subdued

  the weary men and stilled the whole wide world.

  1350 (1060)Slumber, however, never reached the girl,

  but anguish churned her heart, as when a poor,

  hardworking woman twirls and twirls her spindle

  all night long, and all around her wail

  the children orphaned since her husband died,

  1355and tears drip down her cheeks as she considers

  the miserable lot she has been given.

  Like hers, Medea’s cheeks were wet with weeping

  and her heart kept spinning, spinning, spun

  by agonizing pangs.

  Back in the city

  1360Alcinoös and his respected wife

  Arete lay in bed within the palace,

  talking about the maiden late at night.

  As women do when managing their husbands,

  she addressed him intimately:

  “Darling,

  1365 (1073)please do something for me. Please preserve

  this girl of many worries from the Colchians

  and do, thereby, the Minyans a favor.

  Argos and the people of Haemonia

  live closer to our island, and Aeëtes

  1370does not at all live near. In fact, we know

  nothing of this Aeëtes, only hearsay.

  The maiden, though, has undergone harsh trials;

  her pleas have split my heart in two. Therefore,

  do not, my lord, release her to the Colchians

  1375to drag away back to her father’s palace.

  Yes, she was mad with folly when she gave

  Jason the magic drug to beat the oxen.

  Yes, she fled her ruthless father’s wrath,

  trying to cure one error with another,

  1380 (1082)as people often do with a mistake.

  Still, I have heard that Jason since that time

  has taken mighty oaths to marry her

  in proper legal fashion at his palace.

  My love, do not then stubbornly compel

  1385Jason to break his oath, nor let the father

  inflict unending torture on his daughter,

  if you can stop it. Parents can oppress

  their children overmuch. Consider what

  Nycteus did to fair Antiope

  1390and what afflictions Danaë endured

  at sea through her own father’s wickedness.

  In fact, not long ago or far away,

  that wicked king Echetus jabbed bronze brooches

  into his daughter’s eyeballs. Now she labors

  1395 (1095)under a grievous fate, forever grinding

  grains of bronze in an unlighted dungeon.”

  So she pleaded, and the king’s heart softened

  under his wife’s persuasion. He replied:

  “Arete, I could have my soldiers scatter

  1400the Colchians as a favor to the heroes,

  and all for that girl’s sake, but I am loath

  to disrespect the stringent laws of Zeus.

  Nor is it wise to disregard Aeëtes,

  as you propose. No one alive is more

  1405kingly than King Aeëtes. If he wanted,

  he could bring war down on Hellas, even

  from far away. Therefore, I must deliver

  a judgment that will seem disinterested

  in all men’s eyes. But I will not conceal it

  1410 (1106)from you: I shall command the Colchians

  to bring the girl back home if she is still

  a virgin. But if she is not a virgin,

  I shall not divide her from her husband

  nor shall I yield unto her enemies

  1415the child she may be bearing in her womb.”

  So he disclosed and went to sleep at once.

  His wife, though, stored his wisdom in her heart,

  rose from her bed, and hurried through the palace,

  and all her serving ladies rushed together

  1420to wait on her. She whispered for a herald

 
and sent a message, prudently advising

  the son of Aeson to deflower the girl

  and not risk pleading with Alcinoös.

  And she revealed her husband would deliver

  1425 (1117)the following judgment to the Colchians:

  that, If Medea has remained a virgin,

  he will dispatch her to her father’s home;

  but if she has been sleeping with a husband,

  he will not divide connubial love.

  1430So she reported, and the herald’s feet

  whisked him out of the palace to deliver

  Arete’s favorable news to Jason,

  along with good Alcinoös’ verdict.

  The messenger directly found the heroes

  1435sitting under arms and keeping watch

  beside the city in the port of Hyllus.

  He told them everything, and his report

  so pleased them that their spirits grew ecstatic.

  Frantically, then, they mixed wine in a bowl

  1440 (1129)to offer the immortals, as is proper,

  and duly dragged sheep to the sacred altar.

  Yes, that very night they made the maiden

  a bridal bed within the sacred cave

  where Macris once had lived.

  She was the daughter

  1445of Aristeaus, lord of honey. He

  it was who first invented apiculture

  and olive pressing, after much hard work.

  Off in Abantian Euboea, Macris,

  his daughter, was the first nursemaid to hold

  1450Zeus’ Nysaean son up to her bosom.

  She also wet his holy lips with honey

  once Hermes had retrieved him from the flames.

  Hera had seen her, though, and out of spite

  exiled her from the island. Macris, then,

  1455 (1140)went off and settled in this sacred cave

  and gave the Phaeacians great abundance.

  They laid a mighty mattress in the cave

  and spread the glinting golden fleece upon it

  so that the wedding would be more distinctive

  1460and memorable in song. The nymphs collected

  colorful flowers and brought them in protruding

  from their resplendent bosoms. Over them

  a glimmer as of fire was flickering,

  so scintillating was the light that issued

  1465out of the golden wool. It sparked sweet yearning

  in all their eyes, but modesty restrained

  each of the nymphs, in spite of her desire,

  from reaching out and fondling the fleece.

  The nymphs had come from various places: some were

  1470 (1149)daughters of the Aegaeus River, others

  were dwellers on the peak of Melita,

 

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