The Argonautica

So she spoke; with their oars they kept Argo safe from missiles,

waiting to see her strange, unimagined stratagem unfold;

then, firmly grasping the mantle's wide, deep-purple fold,

she drew the robe to both cheeks, a fold on either side,

and stepped upon the deck. Firmly clasping Medea's hand,

Aeson's son led her as she passed between the thwarts.

There she enchanted deadly Keres with magic singing,

soul-devouring, Hades' dread and swift infernal hounds,

that wheel through upper air to hunt living men.

Kneeling, she called the Keres three times in her songs,

thrice with prayers; making her dark mind malevolent, with hostile

eyes she bewitched the gaze of Talos fashioned in bronze;

she gnashed dreadful anger against him and sent out

destructive visions, raging with a fury beyond measure.

Father Zeus, great wonder indeed blows into my mind,

if ruin descends not solely through devouring sickness

and blows, while deadly hostile power strikes from afar.

Thus Talos, bronze though he was, yielded himself to destruction

through the power of Medea, mistress of many drugs. As he lifted

heavy rocks to bar the ship from reaching harbor,

he grazed his ankle on the pointed edge of rock; his ichor

flowed like molten lead; no longer could he stand there

high on the jutting headland where he firmly planted himself.

As when a giant pine stands high in mountain country,