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disgrace me when I

am far from home and in no dear kinsmen’s protection.’

She spoke

in anguish, fallen at his feet. But the words she spoke

made Jason’s

heart leap high, whether for joy at her beauty — now

granted

as a gift to him — or joy at her promise of the fleece, she

could not

tell, study his eyes as she might. He raised her to her

feet,

embracing her. Then, to comfort her: ‘Beautiful

princess,

I swear — may Olympian Zeus and his consort Hera,

Goddess

of Wedlock, witness my words — that when we’re safe in

Hellas,

I’ll make you my wedded wife.’ And he took her hand

in his.

She believed him, and said, ‘I have nothing to promise

in return but this:

‘I’ll be faithful to you. Wherever you go, I will go.’

“So to the ship, and at once, with all speed, to the

sacred wood

in hopes that while night still clung they might capture

and carry away

the treasure, in defiance of the king. The oars with their

pinewood blades

skirled water, awakening the dark. As the boat slid out

from shore

like a nearly forgotten dream, Medeia gasped, wide-eyed, and stretched out her arms to the land, full of wild

regret. But Jason,

never at a loss, spoke softly, and her mind was calmed.

She turned

like a charmed spirit, and gazed toward the isle of the

serpent.

“The Argo

glided landwards, the mast tip blazing with dawn’s first

glance,

and, guided by Medeia, the Argonauts leaped to the

rockstrewn, windless

beach — a muffled jangle of war-dress, and then vast

stillness.

A path led straight to the sacred wood. They advanced,

silent;

and so they came within sight of the mammoth oak,

and high

in its beams, like a cloud incarnadined by the fiery

glance

of morning, they saw the fleece. They stood stock-still,

amazed.

It hung, magnificent, above them, like a thing

indifferent

to the petty spleen of Aietes, courage of Jason, or the

beating

of Medeia’s confounded heart. It seemed a thing

indifferent

to Time itself: Virtue, Beauty, Holiness, Change— all were revealed for an instant as paltry children’s

dreams,

carpentered illusions to wall off the truth, man’s

otherness—

eternal, inexpiable — from this. The Argonauts

remembered again

Prometheus’ screams — first thief of celestial fire;

remembered

the whispering ram on the mantle that Argus had made,

off Lemnos,

Phrixos listening, all attention, and all who looked on it listening, tensed for the secret; but the smouldering

ram’s eyes laughed,

and the secret refused their minds. Stay on! It’s not

far now!

A moral meaningless, outrageous. For a long time they

stared,

like mystics gazing at an inner sun, some nether

darkness,

pyralises. But now the sharp unsleeping eyes of the

snake had seen them,

and the head swung near like a barque on invisible

waters. Their minds

came awake again, and even the bravest of the

Argonauts shook

till their armor rang, and their legs no longer held

them. The serpent

hissed, and the banks of the river, the deep recesses

of the wood

threw back the sound, and far away from Titanian Aia it reached the ears of Kolchians living by the outfall of

Lykos.

Babies sleeping in their mothers’ arms were startled

awake,

and their mothers, awakening in terror, hugged them

close. Apophis,

in his sheath of blue-green scales, rolled forward his

interminable coils

like the eddies of thick black smoke that spring from

smouldering logs

and pursue each other from below in endless

convolutions. Then

he saw the witch Medeia rise from the ground and

stand,

her hair and eyes like flame, her strangely gentle voice invoking sleep, a sing-song soothing to his ancient mind; he heard her calling to the queen of the Underworld—

softly, softly—

and as Jason looked up, stretched out flatlings in the

shadow of her skirt,

the snake, for all its age and rage, was lulled a little. The whole vast sinuate spine relaxed, and its

undulations

smoothed a little, moving like a dark and silent swell rolling on a sluggish sea. Even now his head still

hovered,

and his jaws, with their glittering, needlesharp tusks,

were agape, as if

to snap the intruders to their death like fear-numbed

mice. But Medeia,

chanting a spell, sprinkled his eyes with a powerful

drug,

and as the magic assaulted his heavy mind, the scent

spreading out

around him, his will collapsed. His wedge-shape head

sank slowly,

his innumerable coils behind him spanning the wood.

Then, rising

on feeble legs, Jason dragged down the fleece from the

oak,

Medeia moving her hand on Apophis’ head, soothing his wildness with a magic oil. As if in a trance herself, she gave no sign when Jason called. He returned for her, touching her elbow, drawing her back to the ship. And

so

they left the grove of Ares.

“Magnificent triumph, you may think.

Was Aietes not a devil, and his downfall just? Ah, yes. But the legend of human triumph coils inward forever,

burns

at the heart with old contradictions. The goddess was

in us, the anguine

goddess with sleepy eyes.

“Victorious Jason, on the Argo,

lifted the fleece in his arms. The shimmering wool

threw a glow,

fiery, majestic, on his beautiful cheeks and forehead.

And Jason

rejoiced in the light, as glad as a girl when she catches

in her gown

the glow of the moon when it climbs the welken and

gazes in

at her window. The fleece was as large as the hide

of an ox, a stag.

When he slung it on his shoulder, it draped to below

his feet. But soon

his mood changed. With a look at the sky, he bundled

the fleece

to a tight roll and hid it in a place only Argus knew in the Argo’s planking, for fear some envious man or

god

might steal it from him. He led Medeia aft and found a seat for her, then turned to his men, who watched

him thoughtfully,

puzzled by the hint of strangeness he’d taken on. He

said:

‘My friends, let us now start home without further

delay. The prize

for which we’ve suffered, and for which you’ve labored

unselfishly,

unstintingly, is at last ours. And indeed, the task proved easy, in the end, thanks to this princess whom

I now propose,

with her consent, to carry home with me and marry.

I charge you,

cherish her even as I do, as saviour of Akhaia and

ourselves.

And have no doubt of our need for haste. Aietes and

his devils

are certainly even now assembled and rushing to bar our passage from the river to the sea. So man the