The Argonautica

Now, goddess, sing the toil and counsels of the maiden,

the Colchian, Muse, great daughter born of Zeus; for me

my mind reels deep within, speechless, as I ponder,

whether to call it the grief of ruinous madness, or tell of

the shameful flight that made her leave the Colchian people.

He met all the foremost men selected from the people,

and all through the night devised a deadly trap for the heroes

inside his halls, wrath kindling over the hateful ordeal,

Aeetes, still consumed by rage, could never truly

believe these deeds could ever be done without his daughters.

But Hera cast the most piercing fear into the girl's heart;

she trembled like a light fawn trapped deep within

dense woodland thickets the baying hounds drive wild.

For immediately she guessed the truth: her help would not stay

hidden, and soon she would fill the full measure of evil.

Fear of her knowing attendants seized her; both eyes

filled with fire, while a terrible roaring rang in her ears.

Again and again she clutched at her throat, and again at the roots

she dragged out her hair, bellowing loudly in anguished grief.

Then surely beyond her fate the maiden would have died there,

after swallowing drugs, thus thwarting the purpose of Hera,

had the goddess not roused her, bewildered, to flee with the sons

of Phrixus; her winged heart within her breast grew calm,

then swiftly she poured every drug into her robe's fold,