The Argonautica

was such a man. In her ears there continued forever to echo

his voice and the honey-sweet words his own lips had delivered.

Fear seized her for him, lest the bulls, or Aeetes himself, should

bring him to death; and she mourned as though he were utterly, wholly

dead even now; and a tender tear down the curve of her cheek

flowed through her deep cares, in pity most bitter and burdened.

Softly she wept; then piercingly lifted this utterance:

Why has this sorrow taken me, miserable? Whether the greatest

of all the heroes is fated to die, or only a lesser,

let him perish! And yet, if only he had escaped unharmed.

Yes, may it happen, revered Goddess, daughter of Perses:

may he flee death and return to his home; but if fate has determined

that the bulls master the stranger, may he learn this beforehand:

that I, at least, do not exult in the cruel calamity upon him.

Thus was the maiden's mind crushed down beneath all her love-cares.

Once they had left both the public throng and city behind,

following now the road they had climbed before from the plain,

then Argus addressed Jason directly in words such as these:

Aeson's son, you will scorn the counsel that now I shall tell you;

yet in our evil plight we should not give up making trial.

You heard me speak just now of a certain maiden who practices

magic, taught through Hecate's counsels, the daughter of Perses.

If we could win her consent, I think we no longer need tremble

at your defeat in the contest; dreadful fear still fills me