But his mother, as round her child her arms at the first she had flung,
So clave she, and wept without stint: as the motherless maiden she clung,
Whose forlorn little arms clasp fondly her grey old nurse, when the tide
Cometh up of her woe:—she hath no one to love her nor comfort beside;
And a weary lot is hers ’neath a stepdame’s tyrannous sway,
Who with bitter revilings evil-entreateth her youth alway:
And her heart as she waileth is cramped as by chains in her frenzied despair,
That she cannot sob forth the anguish that struggleth for utterance there:
So stintlessly wept Alkimedê, so in her arms did she strain
Her son; and she cried from the depths of her love and her yearning pain:
“Oh, that on that same day when I, the affliction-oppressed,
Hearkened the voice of Pelias the king, and his evil behest,
I had yielded up the ghost, and forgotten to mourn and to weep,
That thyself, that thine own dear hands, in the grave might have laid me to sleep,
O my beloved!—for this was the one wish unfulfilled:
But with other thy nursing-dues long had mine heart in contentment been stilled.
And I, of Achaia’s daughters the envied in days that are gone,
Like a bondwoman now in tenantless halls shall be left alone,
Pining, a hapless mother, in yearning for thee, my pride
And exceeding delight in the days overpast, for whom I untied
For the first time and last my zone; for to me beyond others the doom
Of the stern Birth-goddess begrudged abundant fruit of the womb.
Ah me for my blindness of heart!—not once, not in dreams, might I see
The vision of Phrixus’ deliverance turned to a curse for me!”
So mourned she, and ever she moaned amidst of her speech, and thereby
Stood her handmaids, and echoed her wail, an exceeding bitter cry.
But the hero with gentle words for her comfort made answer, and spake:
“Fill me not thus overmeasure with anguish of soul for thy sake,
Mother mine, forasmuch as from evil thou shalt not redeem me so
By thy tears, but shalt add the rather woe unto weight of woe.
For the Gods mete out unto mortals afflictions unforeseen:
Wherefore be strong to endure their doom, though thine anguish be keen.
Take comfort to think that Athênê hereunto our courage hath stirred:
Remember the oracles: call to remembrance how good was the word
Of Phoebus: be glad for this hero-array for mine help that is come.
Now, mother, do thou with thine handmaids in quiet abide in thine home,
Neither be as a bird ill-omened to bode my ship ill-speed;
And escort of clansmen and thralls thy son to the galley shall lead.”
So spake he, and turned him, and forth of his halls his way hath he ta’en.
And as goeth Apollo forth of his incense-bearing fane,
Through Delos the hallowed, or Klaros, or Pytho the place of his shrine,
Or Lycia the wide, where the waters of Xanthus ripple and shine,
So seemed he, as onward he pressed through the throng, and a loud acclaim
Of their mingled cheering arose. And there met him an ancient dame,
Iphias, priestess of Artemis warder of tower and wall.
At his right hand caught she, and kissed it, but spake no word at all,
For she could not, how fain soe’er, so pressed the multitude on;
And she drifted away to the fringe of the crowd, and was left alone,
As the old be left by the young: and he passed on afar, and was gone.
So when he had left the streets of the city builded fair,
To the beach Pagasaean he came, and his comrades hailed him there
In a throng abiding beside the Argo ship as she lay
By the river’s mouth, and overagainst her gathered they.
And they looked, and behold, Adrastus and Argus hasting amain
Thitherward from the city, and sorely they marvelled, beholding the twain
Despite the purpose of Pelias thitherward hurrying fast.
On his shoulders a bull’s hide Argus the son of Arestor had cast,
Great, dark with the fell; but the prince in a mantle fair was arrayed,
Twofold: Pelopeia his sister the gift in his hand had laid.
Howbeit Jason forbare to ask them of this or of that;
But he bade them for council sit them down where the others sat.
So there upon folded sails, and the mast as it lay along,
Row upon row were the heroes sitting all in a throng;
And to these of his heart’s good will the son of Aison spake:
“What things soever it needeth that sea-bound galleys should take,
All this ready dight for our going lieth in seemly array.
Wherefore for these things’ sake will we make no longer delay
From our sailing, so soon as the breezes but blow for the voyage begun.
But, friends—since in hope for the home-return to our land we be one,
And one in the way we must take to Aiêtes, the path of the Quest,
Therefore do ye now choose with hearts ungrudging our best
To be chief and captain, to order all our goings aright,
To take on him our quarrels with aliens, and pledge our covenant-plight.”
He spake, and the youths upon valiant Herakles turned their eyes,
As he sat in their midst, and from all the heroes did one shout rise,
Crying “Our captain be thou!”—but not from his place he stirred;
But he stretched his right hand forth, and he answered and spake the word:
“Let no man offer this honour to me: I will nowise consent;
And if any man else would arise, I will also withstand his intent.
The selfsame man who assembled our band, let him too lead.”
He spake in his greatness of soul, and they shouted, praising the rede
Of Herakles: then did Jason the warrior wight rejoice;
And he sprang to his feet, and he spake in their midst with eager voice:
“If indeed ye be minded on me this glorious charge to cast,
Let our voyaging tarry no more; suffice the delays overpast.
But now, even now, let us offer to Phoebus the sacrifice meet,
And prepare us a feast even here; and, while yet tarry the feet
Of my thralls, overseers of my steading, which bear in charge my command
Fitly to choose for us beasts from the herd, and to drive to the strand,
We will launch on the sea our ship, we
