Phoebus, beginning with you, I shall remember the famed deeds of men of old:

men who, down through the mouth of Pontus and onward between

those Cyanean Rocks, at the command of Pelias the king,

drove the well-benched Argo in quest of the Golden Fleece.

For Pelias heard this oracle: a loathsome fate was awaiting

him: to be felled through the counsels of that man, whom he should see

coming from among the people with only a single sandal.

Not long thereafter, true to your own oracle, Jason,

wading on foot through the winter-swollen currents of Anaurus,

saved one from under the mire; but the other one, down in the river,

he left there: a sandal caught fast in the torrent's onrush.

Straightway he came to Pelias, meaning to share in the banquet

Pelias offered to Poseidon, his father, and all other gods;

but Pelasgian Hera he slighted and paid her no honor.

At once Pelias saw him, understood, and set him a task:

a voyage laden with sorrow, so that out on the sea or even among

men of a foreign land he might utterly lose his homecoming.

The ship, how she came to be fashioned, earlier singers relate:

how Argus labored to build her at Athena's prompting.

Now I would tell of the lineage and name of each of the heroes,

the pathways across the long sea and all of the deeds they accomplished

wandering far: may the Muses themselves be the prompters of song.

First name Orpheus, whom Calliope herself once

after she shared Thracian Oeagrus' bed, they say,

bore there by Pimpleia's high lookout peak.

Then they tell how the unyielding rocks in the mountains,

and river streams he charmed with the ringing sound of his songs.

Wild oaks, even now the memorial signs of that singing,

flourishing along the Thracian headland there at Zone,

in order they stand, rank upon rank and close-pressed;

he led them onward and down from Pieria, charmed by his lyre.

Such was Orpheus; Aeson's son chose him to aid

his own trials, obeying the charge Chiron gave;

he took the lord then ruling Bistonian Pieria.

Then Asterion came straightway, the man whom Cometes

begot beside the eddying river-waters of Apidanus;

Asterion dwelt at Peiresiae, near the Phylleian mountain,

there mighty Apidanus and radiant Enipeus meet,

both flowing from afar, their waters joined into one.

After these, Polyphemus arrived, leaving Larissa behind,

the son of Eilatus, who once among the mighty Lapiths,

when the Lapiths arrayed themselves in arms against the Centaurs,

had fought as their youngest; by now his limbs were growing heavy,

yet still his warlike spirit remained, even as before.

Nor indeed did Iphiclus linger long there in Phylace,

maternal uncle to Aeson's son, for Aeson had married

his sister Alcimede, Phylacus' daughter; her close ties

of kinship and marriage urged him to join the gathered band.

Nor did Admetus, ruling Pherae rich in sheep,

remain beneath the lookout-height of Chalcodon's mountain.

Nor did the sons of Hermes, rich in cropland, stay in Alope,

both well versed in cunning, Erytus and Echion.

After those two, their own kinsman came as third.

Aethalides; there, by Amphrysus' broad river currents,

Myrmidon's daughter, Phthian Eupolemeia, gave him birth.

the other two were born of Antianeira, Menetes' daughter.

And Coronus came, leaving wealthy Gyrton behind him,

Caeneus' son; a noble man, yet no better than his father.

For singers proclaim that Caeneus, even while still alive,

fell to the Centaurs when alone he drove them far from the other

heroes. Then wheeling about, the Centaurs charged him anew,

they could not force him backward, nor could they hew him in pieces;

unbroken and unbending, he sank down under the earth,

struck by the massive fir trees crashing downward upon him.

Then Titaresian Mopsus came, whom Leto's son

taught unmatched skill in reading signs from birds.

And Eurydamas too, Ctimenus' son, who near the lake

of Xynias there made his dwelling in Dolopian Ctimene.

Actor moreover sent his son Menoetius out from Opus,

to journey with the noblest men and win safe return.

Then Eurytion followed, with battle-strong Erybotes,

Teleon fathered one; Irus, Actor's son, the other;

one was renowned Erybotes, Teleon's own son;

and Eurytion, Irus' son. Third with them came Oileus,

outstanding in manly might, skilled to attack from behind

against the foe whenever their ranks turn backward in flight.

Then Canthus came from Euboea, eager, whom Canethus

Abas' son had sent; yet Canthus was never destined

to come home again to Cerinthus; for fate had ordained

that Canthus and Mopsus, skilled in many forms of prophecy,

should wander together, be slain at the far bounds of Libya:

truly, no doom lies so remote that mortals cannot meet it,

since even these were given their burial there in Libya,

as far from the Colchians as the sun's two distant bounds

are seen apart: sunset in west, sunrise in east.

After him Clytius and Iphitus gathered together,

both warders of Oechalia, sons of Eurytus the ruthless,

Eurytus, to whom the Far-shooter gave the bow; yet he gained no

joy from the gift, for he chose to challenge the giver himself.

Then Aeacus' sons came after them, but not together,

nor from the same place: in flight they settled far apart from

Aegina, after killing their own brother Phocus,

in folly. Telamon made his home on the Attic island;

but Peleus, parted from him, made his home there in Phthia.

Next came warlike Butes out of Cecropia,

son of noble Teleon, and Phalerus, skilled with the spear.

His father Alcon sent him forth; he had no other

sons who might guard his old age and sustain his livelihood.

Though born in Alcon's old age, his only son,

his father sent him forth to shine among bold heroes.

But Theseus, foremost by far among all Erechtheus' children,

an unseen bond held fast beneath Taenarian ground,

as he followed Pirithous along their common road; those two

surely for all would have made an easier end to labor.

Tiphys, Hagnias' son, left Siphae's people behind him,

the Thespians; well skilled to discern beforehand the rising

wave of the broad sea, and to judge the squalls of the wind,

and reckon a ship's course by sunlight and star of the heavens.

Tritonian Athena herself urged Tiphys onward;

Tiphys then joined the band, a longed-for comrade.

For she herself had labored to build the swift ship, and Argus

Arestor's son, constructed it with her, heeding her counsels.

Thus the ship proved foremost of every vessel

that ever ventured to make trial of the sea with oars.

Next after these came Phlias from Araethyrea,

where rich by his father Dionysus' grace he made his dwelling,

at his own hearth beside the fountain-springs of Asopus.

From Argos in turn came Talaus and Areius, sons of Bias,

and powerful Leodocus, all three borne by Pero,

Neleus' daughter; for her sake, harsh distress and labor

Melampus, Aeolus' grandson, endured in Iphiclus' stalls.

Nor did we hear that mighty Heracles, stout of heart,

made light of the eager summons of Aeson's son.

Yet once the report of the gathered heroes reached Heracles,

he crossed Lyrceian Argos, setting out from Arcadia,

the road on which he carried the boar still living, that fed

in Lampeia's deep glens, around great Erymanthus' marsh.

That boar he brought to Mycenae's first assembly-ground,

and laid it down, bound, writhing, from his massive shoulders;

then, of his own will, despite Eurystheus' intention,

he set forth; Hylas went with him, his worthy attendant,

in youth's first bloom, to bear his shafts and guard the bow.

Next came a scion of godlike Danaus' race,

Nauplius; Clytoneus, Naubolus' son, sired the hero;

Naubolus in turn was Lernus' son; and Lernus, we know, was

the son of Proetus, Nauplius' son. And once the maiden

Amymone, Danaus' daughter, lay with Poseidon and bore

Nauplius, who outshone all other men in seamanship.

Idmon came last of those who had their homes in Argos,

although birds had revealed his own grim approaching doom,

he went, lest his own people grudge his lasting glory.

He was no true son of Abas; rather, the god himself

begot Idmon the prophet, numbered with illustrious Aeolids,

Leto's son, who himself taught Idmon the ways of prophecy,

to heed the birds and read the signs of offerings aflame.

And Aetolian Leda sent forth mighty Polydeuces

and Castor, taught in the handling of swift-footed horses,

from Sparta; there in Tyndareus' halls she bore the twins,

her cherished sons in one birth; she did not oppose them

as they departed; she pondered counsels befitting Zeus' bed.

Then Aphareus' sons, Lynceus and proud-hearted Idas,

came out from Arene, filled with confidence in great strength,

both men; and Lynceus far excelled in keenness of eyesight,

if rumor indeed tells truth: that man, as fame reports,

could easily cast his gaze even under the earth.

Next Neleus' son Periclymenus rose to depart,

the eldest of all the sons begotten there in Pylos

of godlike Neleus; Poseidon granted boundless prowess,

and any form he prayed to take became his own

while fighting: he took that form in the close press of battle.

Then Amphidamas came, and Cepheus, both from Arcadia,

men who dwelt in Tegea and the allotted land of Apheidas,

sons of Aleus; a third companion followed close,

Ancaeus, whom his father Lycurgus sent forth on the journey,

their elder brother by birth; Lycurgus remained there

within the city to care for Aleus, now growing old,

but sent his son away to join his own two brothers.

He went clad in the hide of a great Maenalian bear,

a mighty two-edged axe he brandished in his right hand;

his arms were hidden by grandfather Aleus deep in the hut,

hoping even then to bar the hero's outward journey.

Augeias too went, whom rumor declared to be Helios' son;

and ruled as king over all men of the Elean nation,

proud of his wealth; and greatly he longed for the Colchian country,

to see Aeetes himself, the lord who commanded the Colchians.

Then Asterius and Amphion, Hyperasius' two sons,

came forth from Achaean Pellene, which once Pelles

their forefather had founded as a city high on Aegialus' brow.

Leaving Taenarus after these, Euphemus came,

the fleetest-footed of men, whom a maiden bore to Poseidon,

Europe, the daughter of Tityos, the man of great strength.

That hero would race swiftly over the grey sea's surface,

of the swell; no wave could wet his swift feet past the tips,

and only those were wet as he sped down the watery path.

And two other sons of Poseidon also arrived:

one left the citadel of glorious Miletus behind him,

Erginus; the other left Hera's Imbrasian seat,

Parthenia, proud Ancaeus; both were men well versed

in seamanship and warfare alike, and both made their boast.

From Calydon Oeneus' son, strong Meleager, set forth,

and came; Laocoon too kept close beside Meleager,

Laocoon was Oeneus' brother, though not by the same

mother; a serving-woman bore him; and therefore Oeneus

sent the aging man as guardian to his son; and thus,

so young Meleager entered the greatly daring company

of heroes; none, I think, surpassed young Meleager,

apart from Heracles, had he stayed for merely one more

year in that place, still reared among the Aetolian people.

His mother's brother shared his road, well skilled with a spear,

and skilled in standing against his man at close quarters,

Iphiclus, Thestius' son, kept pace beside Meleager.

Palaemonius came too, Olenian Lernus' son,

called Lernus' son, but in birth descended from Hephaestus;

and therefore lame in foot; yet no one would dare despise

his bodily frame or valor; Palaemonius stood numbered

with all the foremost heroes, swelling Jason's glory.

Then from the Phocians came Iphitus, of Ornytus' line,

Naubolus' son, once bound to Jason in guest-friendship,

when Jason traveled to Pytho to seek a sacred oracle

for his voyage; there Iphitus received Jason in his halls.

Then Zetes and Calais came, the two sons of Boreas,

whom once Oreithyia, Erechtheus' daughter, bore to Boreas

at Thrace's farthest edge, a land of cruel winters; there

Thracian Boreas snatched her up and carried her from Cecropia,

from Ilissus' stream, where young Oreithyia whirled in dance,

and bore her far away, to the Sarpedonian Rock, which men

call by that name, beside the stream of the river Erginus;

there, shrouding her in dark clouds, he forced her to yield.

From the tips of their feet, on either side, dark wings

they shook aloft when rising, a great wonder to behold,

golden scales made each wing gleam; across their backs,

from the high crown of the head and the neck on either side,

blue-black tresses streamed and tossed among gusts of wind.

Nor did Acastus himself, the son of mighty Pelias,

desire to linger there in the halls of his own father,

nor Argus, who worked as helper to the goddess Athena;

but both men too were destined to be chosen for the company.

So many fellow-counsellors gathered for Aeson's son.

Neighbors around them called all of the chiefs Minyans,

all alike, since Minyas' daughters' blood gave birth

to most of the noblest heroes, proud of that descent.

Thus even Jason himself was born of such a mother,

Alcimede herself, sprung from Clymene, Minyas' daughter.

But when the servants had made all the needful gear ready,

all stores held within ships fully appointed,

when need compels men to voyage across the open sea,

then through the city's streets they reached Argo; there the shores

were known as Magnesian Pagasae; all around, the people's

throng ran together in haste; but the heroes themselves, bright

as stars amid clouds, shone conspicuous; so each man

spoke as he watched them leap forward wearing their armor:

Lord Zeus, what purpose has Pelias? Where does he send

so vast a host of heroes outside Panachaean land?

In a single day they could ravage the halls with destroying fire,

of Aeetes, unless the king grants them the Fleece of his own will.

But none can escape the road; hard is the labor of going.

Thus men spoke here and there throughout the city; the women

again and again raised hands to the immortals in heaven,

praying they grant a heart-gladdening end to homecoming.

And one woman wept to another, lamenting through tears:

Poor Alcimede, evil has reached even you, though late;

your lifetime never reached its end in shining splendor.

Aeson too is so grievously luckless; better for him

if long ago, close wrapped within his burial shroud,

he had lain under earth, still ignorant of cruel trials.

Would that, when maiden Helle died, Phrixus too

the black wave had engulfed with the ram! Yet it uttered

a human voice, an evil portent that would bring sorrows

on Alcimede in time to come, and pains beyond number.

So spoke the women as the heroes went forth on their way.

Already many servants, men and women, had gathered;

his mother clung to his neck; sharp grief pierced each woman,

and with them, Jason's father, crushed by ruinous age,

lay mourning on his bed, close wrapped beneath the covers.

But Jason afterward calmed all their grief and anguish,

heartening them, and told the servants to shoulder his war-gear;

silent, with downcast eyes, the servants lifted the weapons.

When first his mother flung her arms around her child,

so she clung, weeping more deeply, just like a young maiden

all alone, folds loving arms round her grey-headed nurse

and weeps; no other guardian now remains to shield her,

ruled by a stepmother, she drags out a burdensome life,

her stepmother has newly assailed her with taunts beyond number;

lamenting, she feels her heart bound by inward anguish,

nor can she pour out grief to the full measure she yearns for;

so deeply Alcimede wept, holding her son in her arms,

and spoke these words to Jason, deep in grief and yearning:

Would that on that day, when I, wretched, heard proclaimed

that evil command laid down by Pelias the king,

I had straightway let my spirit depart and forgotten my sorrows,

so you yourself with beloved hands might have buried me,

my child; for that was the only wish still remaining

from you; all other rewards for raising you I long have enjoyed.

But now, once highly admired among Achaean women,

I will be left like a slave-woman alone in empty halls,

pining for you, ill-starred; because of you I once possessed

great splendor and honor. For you alone, my son,

first and last, I loosed the girdle worn in childbirth.

Eileithyia, childbirth goddess, grudged me many children.

Alas for my folly! Not once, not even within a dream

did I think Phrixus' escape would prove an evil for me.

Thus groaning she keened; her attendant women clustered round

and lamented close beside her; Jason answered Alcimede

with soothing words, and gave his mother this answer:

Do not cast miserable sorrows upon me, mother,

so far beyond measure; you cannot ward off evil

with tears, but will heap new anguish on top of anguish.

The gods assign to mortals woes that none can foresee,

and still, though grieved in spirit, accept your allotted share;

endure and bear it; take heart in Athena's promises,

and trust the prophecies Phoebus declared most favorable,

and afterward in the help of so many foremost heroes.

But you now stay at home, at peace among your handmaids,

and never prove a bird of ill omen for the ship;

there all my clansmen and servants will join me as I go.

He spoke, and set out from the house to journey onward.

As Apollo goes forth from a temple fragrant with incense

to sacred Delos, to Claros, or else onward to Pytho,

or broad Lycia, home of Xanthus' streaming waters,

just so Jason moved through the crowd of people; and a cry

rose as they shouted together; there met him the aged

Iphias, serving as priestess to City-guarding Artemis,

who kissed his right hand, but found no power to speak,

though she longed to speak, while all the crowd swept onward;

but aged Iphias remained behind, off to one side,

among younger folk, while he turned far away and departed.

Then when he had left the city's well-constructed streets,

and reached the Pagasaean shore, where all his waiting companions

welcomed Jason there, assembled by the ship Argo.

Jason stood at the foreland; all gathered facing him.

Then they caught sight of Acastus and Argus, both coming

down from the city; they marveled to see both heroes

hurrying with all speed against the purpose of Pelias.

One wore about his shoulders a bull-hide reaching his feet,

Argus, Arestor's son; its shag was black; but the other

wore a lovely doubled cloak his sister Pelopeia had given.

Yet Jason refrained from questioning both men in detail,

and bade all the others sit together in assembly.

There, on the sails tightly furled, and also the mast

which lay flat, all sat in rows, each one beside the next.

Then Aeson's son, in goodwill, addressed the heroes:

All other gear with which it is fitting to furnish a ship

lies ready for going, all duly arranged in its order.

So these should not long hold back our voyage from starting,

once fresh and favoring breezes rise to drive the ship.

Yet friends, for all of us share one homecoming to Hellas,

and all of us share the same roads leading onward to Aeetes,

so now, with unstinting hearts, choose the best man

as leader of our band, the man who will care for each matter,

to settle disputes and make binding covenants with strangers.

Thus he spoke; the young men looked toward bold Heracles,

seated there in their midst; the whole band, with one voice,

urged him to take command; but Heracles, still seated,

stretched his right hand upward, speaking before the band:

Let no man grant me this honor; I myself shall never

consent, and I shall stop any other man from rising.

The man who gathered us here, let him lead the company.

Thus he spoke, high-hearted, and all men voiced their approval

as Heracles bade; then warlike Jason himself rose up,

glad in his heart, and addressed the eager men in these words:

If all entrust me now with care for common glory,

let our roads be held back no longer, as they were before.

Now at last let us win Phoebus' favor with sacrifices,

then ready a feast nearby; meanwhile let servants go,

my steading wardens, charged with guarding all the herds,

to choose the finest cattle and drive the oxen here,

meanwhile let us drag the ship down into the sea; all tackle

stowed aboard, then cast lots for oars at the rowing-benches.

Meanwhile, too, let us raise a shore altar to Embasius

Apollo, who gave this promise through his spoken oracle:

to mark and reveal every route over the broad sea, if

with rites to Phoebus I launch Pelias' royal task.

He spoke, and first turned his hands to the work; they rose

in obedience, and heaped their garments there, piece upon piece

on a smooth ledge of rock that the sea never battered

with waves, though winter brine had washed it clean long before.

First, as Argus directed, with all their might they girdled

the ship with strong well-twisted cable stretched inside,

drawing it tight at both ends, so that timbers were fitted

firm in their dowels, resisting the strong oncoming surge.

Quickly they dug out a trench as broad as the full space

the ship enclosed, extending seaward from the prow as far

as hand-drawn Argo's onward course would need to run.

Always ahead of the stem they cut it deeper and lower,

and in that channel they laid down smooth-polished rollers;

then tipped the ship down onto the first row of rollers,

so gliding Argo traveled smoothly forward over rollers.

Then high on both sides, after turning the oars backward,

they tied them round tholepins, their handles a cubit projecting.

Beside the oars, in alternating ranks, they stood on both sides,

and pressed both their hands and chests hard on the oar-handles.

Tiphys boarded, calling them to pull at the right time;

he called and shouted loudly; the men close by, bearing

down with all their power, jolted her in one concerted heave

out of her low-set bed, and drove their feet hard against earth

forcing her forward; Pelian Argo followed behind them

swiftly indeed; on either side they shouted and rushed.

The rollers groaned, crushed by her massive, unyielding keel

grinding along; dark smoke gushed out all around them

under the weight, and she slid down into the sea; but they

held her from rushing ahead, hauling back on the hawsers.

They fitted all the oars to tholepins, then raised the mast,

well-crafted sails and stores for the voyage they laid aboard.

But once they had tended each matter with care and foresight,

first by the casting of lots they allotted the rowing-benches,

appointing two men for each; but the seat in the middle

they chose for Heracles and, apart from all other heroes,

for Ancaeus, who there made Tegea's city his home.

For those two alone they left the bench in the middle

just as it stood, not by lot; all together consenting,

they trusted Tiphys to guard the helm of the well-stemmed ship.

Then, levering stones beside the sea, they built a mound

there as Apollo's shore altar at the edge of sea,

bearing both names, Actius and Embasius; then swiftly

they spread over it billets cut from the dry wood of olive.

Meanwhile the herdsmen led forward out of the herd

two oxen of Aeson's son; the younger companions

hauled both beside the altar; there the others presented

lustral water and whole barley-grains; but Jason then

prayed aloud, invoking Apollo, god of his fathers:

Hear, O lord, dwelling in Pagasae and in the city Aesonis,

named for my own father; you once gave me your promise

at Pytho, when I sought you, to show my journey's fulfillment and end

for you yourself became the cause of all these labors;

now guide the ship yourself with all my companions unharmed

there, and home again to Hellas. Then afterward to you,

for each man who returns, one splendid bull

we shall again lay on your altar; further gifts at Pytho,

other gifts beyond all measure I shall bear to Ortygia.

Come now, Far-shooter, accept our present sacrifice,

the gift we set before you now for Argo's embarkation,

first of all; may I, O lord, beneath a fate free from harm

loose the hawsers by your counsel; bid the wind rise

gentle, to carry Argo over seas in fair weather.

He spoke, and cast barley-grains as he prayed; then over the oxen

both girded themselves for the work, mighty Ancaeus and Heracles.

Heracles struck one mid-head, across the brow, with his club,

and down in a heap it fell, braced hard against the earth;

Ancaeus struck at the broad neck of the other ox

with his bronze axe and severed all the powerful sinews;

it toppled headlong, falling hard on both its horns.

Their companions swiftly slit throats and stripped away ox-hides,

jointed and carved them, and cut out sacred thigh-bones,

then wrapped them all together, thickly covered round with fat

and burned them on split wood; Jason poured libations unmixed

and Idmon rejoiced as he watched the bright sacrificial flame

shining on every side, and smoke from the sacrifice rising

in purple spirals, springing upward with good omen;

at once he plainly declared the will of Leto's son:

For you the gods' decree and fate ordain that you come

back here bearing the Fleece; but numberless in the midst

on the way there and back lie trials for those who journey.

but mine is fated death by a god's hateful allotment,

somewhere far away upon the mainland soil of Asia.

Thus, though earlier taught my doom by birds of evil omen,

I left my fatherland then, determined to go aboard

the ship, and once aboard leave glory behind in my house.

Thus he spoke; and the young men, hearing the god-given prophecy,

rejoiced in their homecoming, but grief seized them for Idmon's doom.

Now when the sun in heaven passes noon's steadfast station,

and newly the fields take shadow beneath the rocky heights,

as afternoon's sun inclines toward dusk in the shadowy west,

then all the heroes together upon the sands spread deep

leaf beds facing the shore-line of the gray sea,

and rested row upon row; nearby, abundant provisions

were spread, and sweet wine drawn off into brimming pitchers

by cupbearers; then turn after turn they talked with each other,

telling the many tales young men tell over feasting and wine,

pleasantly talking, when insatiate arrogance stays far away.

There Aeson's son, quite helpless within his own spirit,

brooded on all things, like one bowed low under sorrow.

Idas observed him and taunted him loudly in full voice:

Son of Aeson, what counsel is this you coil in your spirit?

Declare your intent to us all. Or is terror mastering you

as it comes upon you, the fear that dazes cowardly men?

Now let my headlong spear bear witness, by which above all men

I raise my battle-glory; Zeus himself does not aid me

so much as my own spear: no deadly disaster shall ever

come, and no contest remain without fulfillment,

while Idas follows you, even should some god oppose.

Such is the helper you carry away with you from Arene.

He spoke, then raised the brimming cup in both his hands,

he drank the strong, unmixed sweet wine; it overflowed

his lips and blue-black beard; and all the heroes shouted

as one; then Idmon in turn spoke openly against him:

Poor fool, you are plotting ruin for yourself before the time.

Or has the neat wine swollen your bold heart toward blindness

deep in your breast, and driven you on to dishonor the gods?

Other words bring comfort, the kind by which a man may

give heart to a comrade; you spoke with utter recklessness.

Such, the tale says, the sons of Aloeus once blurted

against the blessed gods; yet you cannot nearly match

their manhood; nevertheless swift arrows struck down

both by Leto's son, though mighty in all their strength.

Thus he spoke; Aphareus' son Idas laughed without measure,

and eyeing him askance, replied with taunts that cut deep:

Come now, tell me this by means of your own prophecies:

whether for me too the gods shall fulfill such destruction,

such as your father once bestowed on the sons of Aloeus.

And see how safely you will escape alive from my hands,

if I catch you proclaiming a fate as vain as the idle wind.

He raged in his taunts; and the quarrel would have flared still further,

had not their comrades shouted both loud wranglers silent,

while Aeson's son himself restrained them; then Orpheus lifted

the lyre in his left hand, then made his trial of song.

He sang how earth and heaven and sea, in time's beginning,

once fitted one upon another, were joined in a single form,

then each was severed asunder, each by ruinous strife;

and how forever heavenly bodies hold appointed stations,

the stars and moon, with every course of the journeying sun;

how mountains rose, and how the loud-resounding rivers came forth

with their own nymphs, and every creature that crawls, were born.

He sang how first Ophion and Eurynome, Ocean's child,

held sovereign power together on snow-covered Olympus;

how, conquered by force of arms, he yielded his honor to Cronus,

and she to Rhea; then both fell into Ocean's billows.

Cronus and Rhea then ruled the blessed Titan gods,

while Zeus remained a boy, still childlike in understanding,

dwelling deep inside the Dictaean cave; the earthborn

Cyclopes had not yet strengthened Zeus with the thunderbolt,

with thunder and lightning, for these grant Zeus his glory.

He ceased, holding back both the lyre and his ambrosial voice.

But though he had ended, still eagerly they stretched their heads forward,

all together, sitting silent, their ears held upright

spellbound: so strong the charm his song had left within them.

Not long thereafter, they mixed the libations for Zeus,

as custom ordered, stood and poured libations on the burning

tongues; then through darkness they turned their minds toward sleep.

But radiant Dawn with luminous eyes looked down on

Pelion's towering peaks; then wind rose, and the headlands

stood clear as they were washed by the sea's tossing water,

then Tiphys awoke and at once roused the sleeping companions

to board Argo, and set all the oars in order.

Pagasae's harbor uttered a terrible cry, and Pelian

Argo herself cried, urging her heroes to set forth.

For fixed within her was a godly beam, the one that Athena

had fitted in the mid-stem there, cut from Dodona's oak-tree.

Then one by one they boarded each assigned bench,

as earlier they allotted each man's place for rowing,

they sat in good order, each with his own battle-gear.

Midship, Ancaeus and Heracles in all his great strength

sat; Heracles laid his club there, close beside him;

beneath his feet the ship's keel plunged; already they drew in

the hawsers, pouring wine on the sea; meanwhile Jason

weeping, turned both his eyes away from his fatherland.

And just as young men form a dance for Phoebus at Pytho,

or perhaps Ortygia, or else Ismenus' flowing waters,

and under the lyre stand round the altar all together,

then strike the ground in rhythm with swiftly moving feet:

so, to Orpheus' lyre, all struck with their oars

the sea's rushing water; over the blades the surges washed.

On either side black brine spouted white with foam,

seething terribly, driven by those mighty heroes' strength.

Under the sun their armor flashed like flame as Argo went,

and long wake-paths kept whitening far behind the ship,

like a path showing clearly through the meadow's green grass.

All the gods looked down from heaven upon them that day,

on Argo and the demigods' strength, those men who then were best

as they sailed the broad sea; on the loftiest summits the nymphs

of Pelion, astonished, watched the wonder spread below,

the handiwork of Itonian Athena, and also the heroes themselves

swinging the oars with driving strokes from powerful hands.

But down from the mountain's highest crest toward the sea came

Chiron, Philyra's son; where the gray surf was breaking

he wet his feet, and often waved with his stout hand, urging

and invoked for the voyagers a homecoming free of all sorrow.

Chiron's wife stood close, carrying on her forearm

Peleus' son Achilles, displaying him to his dear father.

When they had left the harbor's curving shore far behind

through the skill and wise counsel of Hagnias' prudent son,

Tiphys, whose hands with practiced skill kept tending

the polished steering-oars, guiding Argo steadfastly straight,

then they stepped the great mast upright in the midship mast-box,

and bound it with forestays stretched taut upon either side;

then downward they spread the linen sail, hauled high on the yard.

A shrill wind filled it; over the half-deck then the sheets

were looped apart, then lashed to polished belaying-pins,

and ran swiftly at ease beyond the long Tisaean headland.

For them, playing his lyre, he sang in well-ordered music,

Oeagrus' son, of ship-saving Artemis, high-born goddess,

who tended every lofty watch-peak guarding the sea,

guarding those peaks and Iolcus' land. From the deep sea

fish darted up above the waves, and mingled with small ones

huge ones followed, bounding along the watery pathways.

Along a field-dwelling shepherd's well-worn tracks there move

countless sheep, all sated to fullness with grass,

home to the fold, while he walks ahead with a clear-toned pipe,

sweetly shaping a shepherd's song: so these also

kept close behind; and a pursuing wind always carried Argo.

At once the mist-veiled, cornfield-rich land of the Pelasgian people

sank away, while they coasted beyond the Pelian crags,

ever pressing ahead; and Cape Sepias dwindled behind,

sea-girt Skiathos appeared, and far away they saw

Peiresiae there, and Magnesia's calm mainland shore,

and the tomb of Dolops; there, when evening fell, the men

made land, as backward-blowing winds opposed their course;

and honored Dolops there at dusk by slaughtering sheep

as seas rose high; for two days on the shore

they rested; but on the third day launched the ship forth,

Argo, stretching her vast sail high overhead.

That coast even now is called Aphetae of Argo.

From there they ran onward, coasting past Meliboea,

At dawn they saw Mount Homole close before them,

leaning seaward, they measured its length; it was not long

before they cast behind them Amyrus' flowing waters.

Thence they beheld Eurymenae and ravines lashed by surge

of Ossa and Olympus; afterward, still voyaging onward,

Pallene's slopes beyond Canastra's jutting headland

they crossed by night, sped onward by the breathing wind.

At dawn as they journeyed, Mount Athos rose into sight,

Thracian Athos, though Lemnos lies from it so far

as a trim merchant vessel makes the run by noon,

casts its high summit's shadow clear as far as Myrine.

For them all day, and onward until dark, the fair wind

blew utterly fresh, and Argo's sail was stretched tight.

But with the sunset's rays the wind fell still and left them,

they reached craggy Lemnos, land of Sintians, by rowing.

There, through the transgressions committed by Lemnian women, all men

lay ruthlessly slain in the year that had just passed.

For the men had spurned their own wedded wives with loathing

and held fierce desire instead for their captive women,

whom they themselves had carried here from Thrace's far shore

when they ravaged Thrace; for Cypris' dreadful anger pursued

the Lemnian women, who long withheld her sacred honors.

Ah, wretched women, never sated in ruinous jealousy!

Not only husbands; captive women too they murdered

around the bed, and every male in that same slaughter,

lest anyone later exact requital for the grisly murder.

Hypsipyle alone of all spared her venerable father,

Thoas, king and ruler of the whole Lemnian people;

in a hollow chest she set him adrift across the sea,

hoping he might escape; fishermen drew him safe to Oenoe,

the island's former name; afterward men renamed it

Sicinus, taking its name from Sicinus, Thoas' own son,

whom naiad Oenoe bore after sharing Thoas' bed.

For Lemnian women, herding cattle, donning bronze

armor, and cutting wheat-bearing fields apart with plowshares,

came easier to every woman than all Athena's works,

that always filled their days before; despite all this,

Again and again they peered across the broad sea,

with grievous fear, still watching for Thracians' return.

So when they saw the ship Argo rowed close to the island,

at once in one body, beyond the gates of Myrine,

clad in deadly armor, they poured out to shore,

like Thyiads ravening raw flesh; fear made them think

the Thracians had come. Thoas' child Hypsipyle marched with them

wearing her father's armor; helpless ranks streamed,

wordless; such mighty fear hung heavy on their hearts.

Meanwhile the heroes sent out from the ship once more

Aethalides, swift herald, charged always to carry

all messages and the staff of Hermes, his own father;

Hermes had given him unfailing remembrance of all things,

immortal; now gone from life across to Acheron's

unspeakable eddies, still oblivion has not veiled his soul;

but it stays firm, remembering, changing its home forever,

numbered now with souls below, now turned toward the sunlight

again among living men. But why must I tell

Aethalides' story unbroken and at this great length?

Aethalides then persuaded Queen Hypsipyle to receive them

as daylight waned through dusk; yet not even at dawn

were Argo's hawsers loosed to Boreas' blowing breath.

The Lemnian women went through the city and sat down

in full assembly; Hypsipyle gave the command herself.

At last the whole assembly gathered in one throng,

At once Hypsipyle spoke, urging all the women:

Friends, come now, let us give these men welcome gifts,

all that men should rightly carry aboard a ship,

provisions and pleasant wine, so firmly outside our towers

they may stay outside and never seek our help in need,

learn our true story; let no evil report travel

far abroad: we have done a mighty deed, and nothing

would please them at all, if ever they learned the true tale.

This counsel rose within my mind; I offer it now;

but if some other woman frames a better counsel,

let her rise; for this very purpose I called you here.

So she spoke, and sat down on her father's own seat,

a seat of stone; then her dear nurse Polyxo rose,

her shriveled feet already halting with old age,

leaning on her staff, afire to address the gathered women.

Four maidens sat beside Polyxo, close at hand,

unwed; white locks were flowering over Polyxo's head.

Polyxo stood amid assembly, lifting her bowed neck

gently, scarcely, above her stooped back, and spoke thus:

Gifts, whatever Hypsipyle herself finds pleasing,

Gifts we should send to the strangers, since generous giving is better.

But what plan can secure a means of living for you

if a Thracian host bears down, or any other

foe; for such enemies often arise among mortals?

This unknown host has now arrived here unforeseen.

And if some blessed god should turn that danger aside,

countless disasters worse than warfare still wait behind,

when all the aged women dwindle and die away,

and you younger, childless women reach hateful old age.

How then will you live, ill-fated? Will the oxen

yoke themselves for you across the deep-plowed fields,

and drag the clod-cutting plow through fields lying fallow,

then reap the grain as the year comes round again?

For surely I, though the Fates still shrink from me now,

expect that as this coming year draws onward

earth will cover me, once death-gifts yield my rightful share,

as custom bids, before this misery draws near.

To younger women I urge this counsel without reserve:

now sure deliverance lies ready at your feet,

if you entrust both homes and all your rich possessions

to strangers' care, and give them charge of your splendid city.

So she spoke; through all the assembly rose a swelling murmur;

Her speech pleased all; close after her Hypsipyle rose

again, and swiftly in answer addressed them with words like these:

If this intention pleases every gathered woman,

I shall dispatch one swift messenger now to the ship.

She spoke, and called Iphinoe, who stood close by:

Go now, Iphinoe, and ask that man to come here,

whoever leads their company, into our own land,

so I may tell their captain one message pleasing the people;

and bid the men themselves, if willing hearts should move them,

enter our land and city boldly, bearing goodwill.

She spoke, dismissed the assembly, and rose to go home.

Iphinoe reached the Minyae; every hero asked

what need or purpose brought the maiden there; at once

she answered all the questioning heroes with these words:

Hypsipyle, Thoas' young daughter, sent me here

here to summon whichever man commands your ship,

so she may tell their captain one message pleasing the people;

and she invites all men, if willing hearts should move them,

to enter land and city now with friendly hearts.

So she spoke; and all were pleased with the word of good omen.

They thought that, Thoas having died, Hypsipyle now

was reigning, his own cherished child; and swiftly they sent

Jason ahead, while all the heroes readied themselves to follow.

But round his shoulders he fastened the Tritonian goddess' handiwork,

a double-folded purple mantle once bestowed on Jason

by Pallas, when she first laid keel-props beneath Argo

and taught exact crossbeam measures with the builder's rods.

Far easier to raise your eyes and face the rising sun

than turn your gaze to confront that mantle's blazing redness.

For there across the middle the woven field shone ruddy-red,

and every outer edge was purple; at each border

many designs lay skillfully, separately worked.

There Cyclopes sat at their labor that never perishes,

forging the thunderbolt for Zeus, the lordly king; already

it had been wrought almost wholly shining, lacking only

one single ray, which the Cyclopes beneath iron hammers

hammered to shape; vapor seethed up from fierce fire.

There too were both sons of Antiope, Asopus' daughter,

Amphion and Zethus; Thebes still lay beside them

without her towers; just then they laid the city's foundations

with eager zeal; then Zethus lifted high on his shoulders

the crest of a towering mountain, like one laboring hard;

behind him Amphion went, singing clear on his golden lyre,

and twice so vast a rock followed after his footsteps.

Next in the woven sequence stood deep-tressed Cytherea,

holding the swift shield of Ares; from Cytherea's shoulder

her loosened tunic-clasp fell down the left forearm

beneath her breast; directly opposite, true to life,

her likeness showed plain to see in the brazen shield.

There was a shaggy pasture-land of cattle; round the herd

the Teleboans fought in battle against Electryon's sons,

these in defense, while Taphian raiders strove hard

to rob the herd; their blood drenched all the dewy meadow,

and many warriors bore down the few herdsmen.

Two chariots also had been wrought there, racing.

Pelops drove the foremost, shaking hard the reins,

and Hippodameia rode there at Pelops' side as companion;

behind in full pursuit Myrtilus drove his horses,

and beside him Oenomaus gripped in hand a level spear,

but fell aside, as the axle snapped within its nave,

rushing to pierce the back of Pelops with leveled weapon.

There Phoebus Apollo too was fashioned shooting arrows,

a boy not yet full-grown, at one who dragged by her veil

his mother boldly: mighty Tityos, whom divine Elare

bore, though Earth reared him and gave him second birth.

There too stood Minyan Phrixus, as if truly alive,

to hear the ram, which seemed itself to speak aloud.

Such figures strike you speechless, cheating your own heart

in eager hope of hearing some close-woven, wise utterance

from those figures; long expectation held your watchful gaze.

Such then were the gifts of Athena, the Tritonian goddess.

In his right hand he took a far-striking spear, which Atalanta

once on Maenalus gave this guest-gift into his hands,

meeting him gladly; for she deeply longed to follow

that road, but he himself willingly held the maiden back,

fearing bitter quarrels arising over love of her.

He strode on to the city, bright as a radiant star,

which maidens, confined within their newly built chambers,

behold as it climbs high, clearing the household roofs,

and through blue-black air its beauty charms the maidens' eyes,

beautiful, glowing red, while the watching maiden rejoices,

longing for a youth who dwells far off among strangers,

her parents rear the girl for one far-dwelling bridegroom;

So Jason, star-like, strode along the road to town.

When Jason and Iphinoe passed within the city gates,

the common women surged behind the passing stranger,

rejoicing in the stranger; he fixed both eyes upon earth

he went unheeding on, until he reached the splendid halls

of Hypsipyle; her servants threw wide the doors at his coming

the double doors, joined fast with well-made panels.

There Iphinoe led him toward a gleaming chair,

through the beautiful porch, and with swift steps seated Jason

facing her mistress; Hypsipyle turned her eyes aside,

her maiden cheeks grew crimson, vivid with her blush;

still in her modesty she addressed the stranger with beguiling words:

Stranger, why do you linger so long outside our towers,

sitting there idly? No men dwell in the city,

but now the men live settled on the Thracian mainland

and plow the wheat-rich furrows. Every painful sorrow

I now recount in truth, that every man may know it.

Thoas my father ruled the city's gathered people;

then, setting out from their homeland, all our men

would often sack the steadings of Thracians dwelling opposite

from their ships, and bring home boundless spoils with maidens.

But Cypris, baneful goddess, brought her purpose onward,

and cast a soul-destroying delusion deep in every heart.

They came to hate their lawful wives; yielding to folly,

they drove each woman from the halls in reckless madness;

and shared their beds nightly with spear-won captive women,

cruel men. Long we endured, in hope that sometime

at last they might reform their minds; but every day the double

misfortune worsened; true-born children lost all honor

within the halls, while a dark illegitimate race arose.

Unmarried girls and widows suffered all alike,

mothers roamed through town, aimless, unkempt, and uncared for.

No father gave the slightest thought to his own daughter,

though fathers watched each daughter slaughtered before their eyes

at a reckless stepmother's hands; nor did children keep from mothers

shameful abuse, as once they used to ward it off;

nor sisters held one place within their brothers' hearts.

Only spear-won captive maidens inside every house

in dances, assemblies, and banquets: these alone mattered,

until a god infused our hearts with sudden, overpowering courage,

never again, when husbands journeyed back from Thrace,

to open towers; thus they must choose the lawful course

or sail with captive women to some other land.

They asked for all the sons, as many of the male line

remained in the city; then they went back to the place

where even now they dwell in Thrace's snowy plowlands.

So turn and live as native settlers here among us;

if dwelling here should win your willing heart's approval,

the royal rights of Father Thoas become your own.

I think you will not scorn this deep-soiled land, the richest

of islands that lie settled throughout the Aegean Sea.

Come now, go to the ship and tell your companions

our message in full; do not linger outside the city.

Hypsipyle spoke, obscuring what murderous fate

befell the men; Jason in turn spoke this reply:

Hypsipyle, gladly would we meet your deeply welcome aid,

the gift you grant to meet our present, pressing need.

When every fact is duly told in order, I return

back to the city. Keep the entire royal sovereignty

yours, with the island. No contempt drives my refusal,

but grievous labors press me hard and drive me onward.

He spoke and touched her right hand; swiftly he turned

and went back; around him, from side to side, young women

in countless numbers danced with joy till Jason passed

beyond the gates; afterward, borne on smooth-running wagons,

they came down to the shore, bearing many guest-gifts,

when Jason had told all the message from beginning to end

that Queen Hypsipyle had fully explained when she summoned Jason.

They readily led the men to their own homes as guests.

For Cypris stirred sweet longing through the women's hearts,

for sake of Hephaestus, wise god of manifold invention,

so Lemnos afterward might thrive again, unharmed, with men.

Then Aeson's son went toward Hypsipyle's royal house;

all other heroes went wherever chance assigned them,

apart from Heracles, who kept his place there with Argo,

by his own will, with a few companions chosen apart.

At once the city rejoiced in dance after dance and feasting,

fragrant burnt-offering smoke filled all the town;

above all gods, Hephaestus and Cypris herself

they propitiated both gods with chanted songs and sacrifices.

Always from one day into another came postponement

of sailing; long delay would hold them resting there,

had not Heracles gathered companions apart from the women

and sharply reproached all the men with scathing words:

Fools, does kindred murder bar our road back home?

Or did we journey here solely for lack of lawful marriages,

scorning our own city women? Are we pleased now

to live here and parcel out Lemnos' rich plowland?

No fame awaits us here with foreign women,

cooped here so long; nor will a god seize the fleece

and freely grant it, moving itself, to men who pray.

Return, each man, to his home; but leave Jason

all day in Hypsipyle's bed, until he makes Lemnos

full of male children, and great fame reaches him.

Thus Heracles rebuked the company; none dared confront him,

to raise their eyes or answer Heracles one word;

but straight from assembly they made themselves ready to leave,

in haste; the women ran to meet them, learning all.

As swarming bees hum round the lilies in full flower,

streaming out of their rock-built hive, while all around

the dew-bright meadow rejoices, and now from this, now that,

they gather sweet fruit on the wing; so likewise the women

streamed round the men, lamenting in faithful affection,

and greeted every man with hands outstretched and words,

praying the blessed gods to grant an unharmed homecoming.

So too Hypsipyle prayed, taking the hands

of Aeson's son; her tears flowed at the hero's leaving:

Go; may the gods bring you back with comrades uninjured,

bearing the Golden Fleece back homeward to the king,

exactly as you wish, dear to your heart. This island

and my father's scepter await you, if one day

you return home and desire to come back again.

With ease you could assemble one vast host for yourself

out of other cities; yet your heart will never harbor

that longing, nor do I foresee it will so be fulfilled.

Remember Hypsipyle both abroad and safely home,

and leave one charge my willing heart may carry out

with all my heart, should gods allow me to bear a child.

Aeson's admiring son replied to Hypsipyle in turn:

Hypsipyle, may every hope you named prove auspicious

from blessed gods; but keep a better thought of me.

For Pelias' grace makes dwelling in my homeland enough;

Only may gods release me now from these hard labors.

But should fate forbid my reaching Hellas' native land

on my far homeward voyage, and you bear a male child,

send the grown youth onward to Pelasgian Iolcus,

a cure for grief that burdens father, mother, both,

if still he finds them living there, apart from the king,

that far from Pelias they may tend their own hearths at home.

Jason spoke, then led the boarding; all the other

chieftains boarded; then their strong hands grasped the oars,

seated in order; Argus took hold of their stern-lines,

and freed each stern-line from beneath the salt-washed rock;

they struck the water hard with long shafts of fir.

At evening, guided by Orpheus' counsel, they made landfall

on the isle of Atlas' daughter, Electra, there to learn

the secret holy laws through gracious mystic rites,

and sail more safely over the sea that chills with fear.

I speak no further of those rites; may sacred Samothrace

fare well, together with the gods who gained those mysteries,

the resident powers; their rites are not for us to sing.

They rowed from Electra onward through deep Gulf of Melas,

eager, with Thracian country holding one horizon,

Imbros lay opposite, seaward; just as the sun

was setting, they reached the Chersonese's far-jutting headland.

There a swift south wind blew; to that following breeze

they set the sails and entered swift and racing currents

of Athamas' daughter; the open northern sea was left

behind at dawn; by night, inside Rhoeteum's coast,

they measured the waters, keeping Ida's land on their right.

Leaving Dardania, the heroes steered onward toward Abydos;

then Percote, then sandy Abarnis lay ahead,

its shore; the heroes sailed past sacred Pityeia.

And now, through night, as the ship drove on a double course,

they traversed the whole Hellespont, dark-heaving with eddies.

There is a certain steep island within the Propontis,

lying a little off Phrygia's grain-rich mainland,

leaning into the sea, as far as waves wash an isthmus

that slopes down to the mainland; two headlands rise there,

twin, opening either way north of Aesepus' water.

The neighbors dwelling round call it the Mount of Bears;

and insolent, savage tribes possess that mountain district,

Earthborn, a mighty marvel for neighboring men to behold.

For each Earthborn lifts six overmastering hands on high,

two from strong shoulders; lower hands hung beneath,

four more are fitted close along his dreadful flanks.

The Doliones held both the isthmus and level plain;

Among those men the hero-king, Aeneus' son, held sway,

Cyzicus, whom young Aenete, noble Eusorus' daughter,

bore. Yet, for all their savagery, the monstrous Earthborn

harmed no Doliones, thanks to Poseidon's aid;

for Poseidon himself had fathered the first Dolionian race.

There Argo struck the shore, driven onward by the winds

from Thrace; Fair Harbor received her racing flight.

There they released the ship's small anchoring stone,

at Tiphys' command they left the stone beneath a spring,

the Artaeian Spring; they chose another, one well suited,

a heavy stone; Apollo's oracle foretold its future:

the Neleid Ionians later set it up in place

as a holy thing, as right, in Jasonian Athena's shrine.

The Doliones met the whole crew there in friendship,

King Cyzicus himself joined them, then heard their voyage

and lineage, learned their names, and gave them guest-friend welcome,

and urged the heroes to row still farther toward the city,

moor the ship by stern-lines fast in the city's harbor,

There heroes raised Apollo an Ecbasian altar,

set near the shore, and duly tended every sacrifice.

The king himself gave sweet wine to meet their need,

and sheep; King Cyzicus had heard a sacred prophecy:

a godlike host of heroes should reach him there straightaway,

he would meet them gently, wholly free from thoughts of war.

Like Jason, Cyzicus first wore soft beard-down;

no child had yet bestowed the sweet joy of fatherhood;

but still his bride throughout the halls remained untouched

by pangs of labor; born from Percosian Merops' line,

fair-haired Cleite, whom he lately led from her father's halls

homeward with matchless bridal gifts from the opposite shore.

Yet even so, forsaking chamber and the bridal bed,

he made their feast and cast all terror from his heart.

They questioned one another; King Cyzicus inquired

about their voyage's end and King Pelias' commands;

they learned all neighboring cities and the whole gulf

of broad Propontis; knowledge failed beyond that point,

though eager hearts desired to learn what lay beyond.

At dawn they climbed great Dindymum, so their own eyes

might see the passages of that sea; then the others

rowed the ship forward to her berth in Chytus Harbor;

Jason's Way remains the path those heroes climbed.

But from the mountain's farther side the Earthborn rushed down

and blocked below with crags the vast mouth of Chytus

seaward, like hunters trapping a beast deep inside.

But with the younger men one hero stayed behind,

Heracles swiftly bent his great recurving bow

and shot the Earthborn down in swiftly falling ranks; they

raised jagged crags and hurled them back at Heracles.

For those dread monsters too a goddess nurtured long,

Hera, Zeus' bride, as a labor saved for Heracles.

The other heroes wheeled and hurried back to meet them

before they climbed the lookout, joined the murderous work

of Earthborn; warlike heroes met them thick with arrows

and spears, receiving every last one in full combat

they hewed down, all charging fiercely, force against force.

As long tree-trunks, newly struck by cutting axes,

woodcutters cast in ordered rows beside the breaking surf,

that, wetted by brine, the trunks might bear strong bolts,

so giants lay outstretched through the gray harbor narrows

in ordered rows; some plunged headlong into salt water,

dipping heads and chests, with limbs stretched up above

on dry land; others lay reversed along the shore,

heads on sand, feet braced downward in the depths,

both kinds alike became prey for birds and fishes.

Once that dread contest ceased to terrify the heroes,

they loosed the ship's strong cables to the breathing wind,

and drove the ship ahead through vast, deep-swelling seas.

All day she ran beneath her sails; but as night came,

the wind fell weak and failed, but tempests gathered,

contrary winds seized hard and bore them backward,

they reached the hospitable Doliones again and landed there

that same night; this rock is still called Sacred,

round which, driven in haste, they cast the ship's cables.

No hero clearly recognized the island as the same;

nor could the Doliones know clearly beneath night's cloak

the heroes had returned; instead they thought a Pelasgian war-host

of Macrian men had landed there to challenge them in battle.

So they put on armor and raised their hands against them.

They drove ash spears and shields together at each other,

keen as a firestorm blazing deep through parched brushwood,

rearing its crest on high; there fierce battle-tumult

fell down, terrible and raging, on the Dolionian people.

The king could never pass his doom and come again

homeward to Cleite's bridal rooms and marriage bed.

But Aeson's son sprang straight against the turning king,

and struck him squarely mid-chest; bone around the spearhead

was shattered; writhing helpless, he rolled there in the sand,

and filled his fated portion. No mortal may ever

escape it; round us everywhere a mighty net lies spread.

He thought himself beyond the bitter heroes' bane,

but fate bound Cyzicus in combat that same night

fighting those men; and many other champions fell.

Heracles there in combat slew warrior Telecles

and Megabrontes; there Acastus struck Sphodris dead.

Peleus took Zelus and Gephyrus, loud in battle.

Then good-speared Telamon struck Basileus dead;

Idas killed Promeus, Clytius killed Hyacinthus;

both sons of Tyndareus slew Megalossaces and Phlogius.

After them Oeneus' son took bold Itymoneus,

and Artaceus, leader of men; all these even now

the dwellers glorify each man with hero honors.

The rest gave ground and fled, as flocking doves will flee

in fear beneath the fierce massed rush of swift-winged hawks.

In one loud mass they fell upon the gates; at once

the city filled with groans as battle's tide reversed.

At dawn both saw their ruinous, unanswerable error;

bitter grief seized the Minyan heroes when they saw

before them lay Aeneus' son, king Cyzicus,

fallen there prostrate in mingled dust and blood.

For three whole days they mourned and tore out their hair,

the heroes and Dolionian people all alike. Then,

three times they wheeled in full bronze battle armor,

around the tomb, paid rites, and staged the funeral contests,

as custom required, across the meadowed plain, where now

this mound lies heaped for men of later birth to see.

Nor was Cleite, the dead man's wife, left living

behind her husband; upon grief she heaped a worse grief,

and brought life to its end by fastening a noose round her neck.

Even grove-nymphs mourned the dead Cleite in sorrow,

and every single tear their eyelids poured to ground

those goddesses made a spring that mortals call Cleite,

the far-famed name once borne by that unhappy bride.

That day brought utmost terror to Dolionian women

and men, a day sent forth by Zeus; not one among them

dared taste a morsel of food, nor long afterward

remembered, through grief, their work grinding grain at the mill;

but lived upon raw stores, food untouched by fire.

There even now, when annual libations fall for Cyzicus,

Ionian settlers keep the ancient practice firm,

and grind sacrificial cakes at the whole people's mill.

Thereafter rough and raging tempests rose aloft

for twelve whole days and nights, and kept the heroes

from sailing ahead. As the following night fell dark,

all other chieftains, overcome already by sleep,

lay sleeping through the last allotted watch; but Acastus

and Mopsus son of Ampycus guarded their deep slumber.

High over the golden head of Aeson's son

a halcyon fluttered, foretelling in a clear and piercing voice

the end of storm-tossed winds; Mopsus grasped its meaning,

hearing the shore-bird's clear and favorable prophetic cry.

A goddess turned the bird again away from its course; it

flew upward and perched atop the ship's stern-ornament.

Mopsus touched Jason reclining on soft sheepskins,

stirred him awake nearby, and spoke these urgent words:

Aeson's son, a sacred climb now lies before you:

rugged Dindymum; appease the gracious, well-throned Mother

of all the blessed gods; the tempests then will cease

in violence; for such a cry I heard just now

from the sea's halcyon; above your sleeping head the bird

flew circling widely, revealing each matter in order.

From her the winds, the sea, and all deep earth depend,

bound firm, together with the snowy seat of Olympus;

and when the mighty goddess climbs from high peaks into heaven,

Zeus himself, the son of Cronus, gives way before her;

so all the other deathless blessed ones attend the dread goddess.

He spoke; Jason heard him and welcomed his prophetic word.

Jason sprang joyfully from bed and roused his comrades

all, urging haste; and when the sleeping crew awakened,

he told the god-sent words of Mopsus, Ampycus' son.

At once the younger men drove oxen from the stalls

and led the cattle thence to the mountain's lofty summit.

The others unloosed cables bound to the Sacred Rock

and rowed into the Thracian Harbor; then all heroes

went uphill, leaving just a few aboard the ship.

The high Macrian lookouts and all the opposite coast

of Thrace appeared, so near their hands could almost grasp it;

visible lay misty Bosporus' mouth and the Mysian

hills; on the farther shore flowed Aesepus' stream

Adrasteia's city with the Nepeian plain spread wide.

There stood a sturdy vine-stock, grown deep in the woodland,

an utterly aged tree; they cut it down to become

a sacred image of the mountain goddess; Argus carved it

with consummate skill; high on the rugged mountain knoll

they set the image beneath the highest oaks' canopy,

which root there on the summit, the loftiest trees of all.

There they heaped a pebble altar; then with leaves

of oak they crowned themselves and tended sacred rites,

invoking mighty Dindymian Mother, sovereign queen,

Phrygia's indweller, joined by both Titias and Cyllenus,

who, sole among the many, allot fate and bear the title

of Idaean Mother's two most honored assessors,

of all the Cretan Dactyls of Ida; once the nymph

Anchiale, within the Dictaean cave, gripped earth

of Oeax in both hands and made the Dactyls spring.

With many prayers Aeson's son implored her to turn

the raging hurricanes aside, as he poured libations down

over burnt offerings; youths joined at Orpheus' bidding,

leaping high, they danced the measured dance of arms,

beating hard on shields with swords, so the ill-omened cry

might wander lost through air, the cry the people still

raised in grief for the king. Hence ever afterward

the Phrygian people appease Rhea with bull-roarer and drum.

The answering goddess set her mind upon their pure offerings;

and signs befitting the goddess then came to pass.

The trees poured down an untold abundance of fruit;

around their feet earth of itself raised flowers from tender grass.

The wild beasts left their woodland coverts and their lairs

and came near, fawning with their tails. The goddess fashioned

marvel: before that time no water had flowed

on Dindymum; then sudden water burst forth upward,

and streamed unceasing down from the once-thirsty summit: Jasonian

Spring, as the later dwellers call that drinkable water.

Then on the Mount of Bears they spread a sacred feast for the goddess,

singing Rhea, mighty mistress; but when dawn rose,

the winds had ceased; the heroes rowed away from the island.

Then keen rivalry stirred every one of the chieftains,

to learn who would cease rowing last; the air all round

lay windless, smoothed the eddies, lulled the sea to sleep.

Trusting the glassy calm, they drove the ship ahead

by force through the salt sea; Argo darted onward.

Poseidon's storm-footed horses could never catch Argo.

Still the swell awoke, aroused by violent breezes,

winds freshly rising from rivers at fall of dusk,

the exhausted rowers had nearly ceased; but one man

pulled all the weary crew along by strength of hand:

Heracles shook every timber, close-fitted in Argo.

But when heroes, hearts longing, sought Mysia's mainland,

they saw the Rhyndacus' mouths and great Aegaeon's barrow,

and measured their seaward course, just off the Phrygian coast,

then Heracles, heaving high the rough surge's furrows,

snapped his oar through the middle; one broken piece

he gripped in both hands, falling sideways; the other

the backwash swept away. He sat upright in silence,

His eyes stared round; his hands were strangers to resting.

When a vine-dresser or ploughman comes home late from fields,

gladly he walks to his hut, hungry for evening supper,

there at the threshold he sinks down and folds his toil-worn knees,

dust-caked, he stares at hands all chafed and rubbed raw,

he calls down many evils upon his own belly;

at that same hour they reached the haunts of Cianian country,

near towering Mount Arganthonius and Cius' broad river-mouth.

The Mysians gave the traveling heroes a kindly welcome,

the land's own dwellers answered every traveler's want

with needed food and sheep, with wine beyond all measure.

There they brought dry wood; others gathered bedding

of meadow leaves in armfuls, reaped beyond measure,

to spread for sleep; still others rapidly twirled fire-sticks,

others mixed wine in kraters and prepared the feast,

having offered due sacrifice at dusk to Ecbasian Apollo.

But Heracles charged every comrade to begin feasting,

then strode to the woods, Zeus' son, seeking timber

to fashion swiftly a new oar fitted to his hands.

He found, after wandering, a fir bearing few branches,

lightly branched, with no huge crown of towering growth,

but straight and slender, like a young shoot of tall poplar;

So great it stood to view in length and massive girth.

Swiftly he set down his arrow-bearing quiver on earth

together with his hunting bow; then stripped away the lion-skin.

He jarred the fir loose from earth with his bronze-weighted club,

then clasped the trunk down low in both encompassing hands,

trusting his strength, he drove broad shoulder hard against it,

feet planted wide; he grappled the deep-rooted tree,

and heaved the trunk, roots, clods, and all, out of earth.

As when a ship's tall mast is suddenly struck without warning

at baleful Orion's stormy setting deep in winter,

by a swift rush of storm-wind descending from high heaven,

and torn with its wedges from forestays, all wrenched free;

so Heracles raised the trunk, then gathered bow and arrows,

taking lion-skin and club, he turned back swiftly to camp.

Meanwhile Hylas left the throng, bearing a bronze pitcher,

and sought the sacred spring-flow, fresh water for Heracles.

He hurried to draw supper-water and prepare all else

swiftly in proper order, ready for Heracles' homecoming.

For Heracles had trained him in careful service and ordered habits,

from earliest helpless infancy, snatched from his father's household,

from godlike Theiodamas, his father, whom Heracles slew among Dryopes

pitilessly, as Theiodamas fought to keep the earth-dividing plough-ox.

He cut the fallow field, ploughing furrow after furrow.

Theiodamas suffered bitter anguish; Heracles himself

commanded the unwilling man to yield his ploughing ox.

He wanted to find a hateful pretext for war on the Dryopes,

since all the Dryopes dwelt lawless, never caring for justice.

But telling that story would wander far from my present song.

Swiftly Hylas reached a spring that neighboring settlers

called Pegae; close by, new nymph-choruses were forming.

For one care filled the hearts of all the nymphs

who dwelt all round the lovely headland's dominion:

to hymn Artemis always in their nightly choral singing.

Those allotted high peaks or deep mountain ravines,

came marching as woodland guardians from far away,

but one water-nymph rose newly from the fair-flowing spring,

the spring's own spirit; she saw Hylas standing close,

flushed with beauty and the bright glow of honey-sweet graces.

For the full month-dividing moon shone down from heaven

and struck him with bright moonlight; her startled heart fluttered,

for Cypris shook her; dazed, she barely gathered her spirit.

But when Hylas' bronze pitcher first touched the stream,

as he leaned aside, the water thundered round without measure,

streaming against echoing bronze; the nymph sprang forward,

and laid her left arm high across Hylas' neck,

longing to kiss his tender mouth; her right hand

wrenched Hylas' elbow, hurling him into the central eddy.

Hylas cried out; alone among comrades Polyphemus heard him,

Eilatus' son pressed farther onward on the pathway,

awaiting gigantic Heracles whenever he came back.

He rushed close to Pegae, like some savage prowling beast

hearing the distant bleat of sheep from far-off pasture;

burning with hunger, it follows the sound, finds no flock,

shepherds penned them beforehand, safe inside the folds;

it groans and roars long, measureless, until strength fails;

so Eilatus' son groaned loud, circling the place,

roaming and calling; his voice proved utterly fruitless.

Swiftly he drew his great sword and sprang in pursuit,

lest savage beasts had made him prey, or raiding men

had ambushed him alone and carried ready plunder off.

There on the track, racing headlong, he met Heracles himself,

his naked sword brandished; clearly he recognized the hero

hurrying through darkness toward Argo; instantly the bitter disaster

he told, heart burdened by his deep and laboring gasps:

Poor friend, I am first to tell you this hateful sorrow:

Hylas went out to the spring and failed to return safely.

Robbers press close around him, carrying Hylas away,

or wild beasts are ravaging him; I heard Hylas cry.

He heard; abundant sweat poured downward from his temples,

and black blood boiled beneath the deep folds of his vitals.

Enraged, he hurled the fir to earth, raced down the path

where his feet bore him leaping; swift was his headlong flight.

As a bull struck mad by the gadfly rushes headlong,

leaving behind wet meadows, marshlands, and herdsmen,

heedless of herd, pressing its course, now never pausing,

now stopping, rearing its broad neck high and upright,

it sends a deep bellow, tortured by the maddening gadfly;

so Heracles, raging, drove his swift knees onward,

in ceaseless strides; then halted, resting from hard labor,

and far away called out with great and piercing voice.

At once the morning star climbed over the highest peaks,

and wind-breaths swept down; swift Tiphys gave the call

to board the ship at once and catch the favoring breeze.

The eager crew embarked at once; then high from Argo

they hauled the mooring-stones aloft and drew sheet-lines aft.

The canvas bellied midships; far away from shore

swiftly they sailed rejoicing past Poseidon's headland.

When high in heaven bright-eyed Dawn began to shine,

rising out of the east, and pathways gleamed clearly in view,

and dewy plains shone bright beneath her radiant beam,

then they discovered their blind mistake had left two heroes.

A bitter quarrel struck them; boundless uproar flared

unbounded, since they sailed and left far behind the finest

of all their comrades. Jason sat there, crushed and helpless,

he spoke no word in answer, neither this nor that;

Aeson's son sat beneath his heavy ruin,

eating his heart; then anger seized Telamon, who shouted:

Sit calmly there at ease; this purpose suited you well,

to leave Heracles. The scheme arose from your own mind,

so Heracles' glory through Hellas would not eclipse yours,

if gods should grant us passage home and full return.

But empty words bring no delight; I leave your comrades,

those men of yours who helped construct this treacherous plot.

He spoke and charged at Tiphys, Hagnias' son; his eyes

flashed like the curling tongues of fierce, devouring fire.

Swiftly the ship would have sailed back to Mysian land,

forcing through deep sea and the wind's unceasing roar,

but Zetes and Calais, Thracian Boreas' sons, opposed them,

restraining Aeacus' son with harsh rebuking words;

poor fools; grim vengeance waited for them later

at Heracles' hands, for blocking every search for him.

As they returned again from funeral games for fallen Pelias,

he slew them both on sea-girt Tenos, then heaped earth

round both their bodies; then raised twin pillars overhead;

of these, one is a marvel past all measure to behold,

still moves, stirred by the sounding breath of father Boreas.

Thus fate would bring all these deeds to later fulfillment.

Then Glaucus rose in sight from deep beneath the sea,

Nereus the god's wise interpreter, rich in counsel;

he lifted high his shaggy head and mighty breast,

and from his lower flanks thrust one strong hand forward

to grasp the ship's stern-post, crying to the eager crew:

Why rage, defying mighty Zeus's settled purpose,

to carry onward bold Heracles toward Aeetes' city?

At Argos fate has bound him in reckless Eurystheus' service,

to labor and fulfill all twelve appointed trials,

then share the gods' own hearth, if he completes those few

still unfinished; therefore banish longing for Heracles.

Likewise fate appoints Polyphemus at the mouth of Cius

to build the famous city serving Mysian people,

then die, fulfilling fate in boundless Chalybian country.

The goddess-nymph had made Hylas hers through loving union,

her husband; for his sake the searching two stayed behind.

He spoke, then plunged below and wrapped himself in wave;

the purple water foamed around him, churned in eddies,

and swept the hollow ship far onward through the sea.

The heroes cheered; then someone rushed out from their number:

Telamon, Aeacus' son, bound straight for Jason;

hand clasped in hand, he embraced Jason and spoke:

Son of Aeson, do not rage at my blind, foolish action;

if I went astray; overpowering anguish seized my spirit,

and drove my tongue to speak a proud, unbearable word;

but give my fault to winds; let friendship stand as before.

Then Aeson's son considered well and gave this answer:

Good friend, you truly taunted me with an evil charge,

declaring before all that I wronged a kindly man.

Yet I will not keep nurturing bitter anger toward you,

though first I grieved; no flocks of sheep provoked your fury,

nor did fierce rage for wealth and treasured goods provoke you,

but for a comrade; so I trust you too will fight another man

for my own sake, if such a thing should ever happen.

He spoke; reconciled as before, again they sat together.

By Zeus's will, one of the two was destined among Mysians

to found a city bearing that same river's name,

Polyphemus, Eilatus' son; Heracles went back

again to toil at Eurystheus' labors; then he threatened

to lay the Mysian land waste on the spot, unless

they found for him Hylas' fate, whether life or death.

For him they offered pledges, choosing men of highest honor

sons of the people; together they sealed a solemn oath,

never to cease from toil while searching for lost Hylas.

Thus Cianians today continue seeking lost Hylas,

Theiodamas' son, and tend the well-founded town of Trachis;

for there he settled young sons they had sent as pledges,

the chosen hostages he led away, departing Cius.

Daylong and nightlong the wind drove onward the ship,

blowing fiercely; yet the slightest breath fell silent

when Dawn arose; they saw a coastland stretching outward

from the bay; a broad headland rose clear in their vision,

then, sighting that broad strand, they rowed shoreward with sunrise.