The Argonautica

stream thickly out of their folds as they follow the shepherd.

Creatures like these, in the earliest time, sprouted up from the slime,

brought forth by Earth herself and fitted with commingled limbs,

while Earth had not yet been compacted beneath the parching air,

nor from the parching sun's blows had Earth yet gathered

sufficient moisture; but Time marshaled those creatures into species,

sorting them out; with forms unclear, they followed Circe.

Boundless wonder seized them; straightway every hero

fixed his gaze on Circe's form and gleaming eyes,

readily knew her as King Aeetes' own sister.

Then, when at last she had sent off the fears from her night dreams,

straightway she turned and went homeward, commanding the heroes

to follow, with crafty, enticing gestures of her own hand.

There the assembled crew, at the command of Aeson's son,

stayed unconcerned; Jason led the Colchian maiden.

Together the two followed Circe's own path until they arrived

at Circe's palace; there she seated them on gleaming chairs,

perplexed to see two strangers arriving at her hearth.

Silent and voiceless, both rushed straight toward the hearth

and sat, as custom ordains for suppliants burdened by sorrow.

The maiden bowed her forehead deep into both hands,

while Jason planted his great hilted sword deep into the ground,

the blade with which he killed King Aeetes' own son;

Neither ever raised a straight gaze toward Circe.