The Argonautica

held there by shame; then she turned once again to go backward,

turned; she emerged once more, then withdrew within.

inside; her futile feet carried her this way and that way.

Whenever she started straight onward, shame held her back inward;

and whenever shame held her back, bold longing drove her forward.

Three times she attempted, three times checked herself; at the fourth time,

writhing, she fell once more, face-downward on the bedstead.

As some young bride in her bridal room mourns the vigorous husband

the very one her brothers and parents gave to her in marriage,

and has not yet mingled freely among all the women attending,

checked by her shame and wise reserve, but sits in the chamber

grieving; some doom destroyed her husband before they could savor

the devices of love with each other; and though her heart burns there,

silently weeps, her gaze fixed on the widowed bedstead,

fearing the women will mock her grief with taunts and jeering;

like such a bride, Medea murmured low in bitter sorrow.

Suddenly one of her slaves came by and noticed her weeping,

the young attendant who had followed and tended her since childhood;

and told Chalciope nearby; there among all her children

Chalciope sat, devising how she could win her sister's favor.

Still she heeded at once all the words that came from the handmaid,

the strange, unexpected report, and rushed away in amazement,

from her own chamber straight through to the room where the maiden

lay grieving, having torn both sides of her cheeks with her nails.