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
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,