John Gardner - Jason and Medeia

over

the chariot wicker and, holding up their skirts above their white knees, came running behind. She fancies

herself,

her hair flying, like Artemis driving her swiftly racing deer over mountains’ combs to the scent-rich sacrifice. Attendant nymphs have gathered from the forests to

follow her,

and fawning grove-beasts whimper in homage and

tremble as she passes.

So Aietes’ daughter sped through the city, and on either

side,

beggars, tradesmen, carters, old women with bundles of

sticks

made way for her, avoiding the princess’ eye.

“Meanwhile,

Jason was crossing the dew-white plain with Melas and

the old

seer Mopsos, skillful at omen reading. And thanks to

Hera,

never yet had there been such a man as was Jason that

day,

clear-eyed, radiant, his mind more swift, more sweet

in flight

than an eagle riding on the sky-blue robes of gods. In

fact,

his companions, walking beside him, were awed. As

they reached the shrine

they came to a poplar by the side of the path, whose

crown of countless

leaves was a favorite roost for crows. One flapped his

wings

as they passed and, cawing from the treetop, delivered

a message from Hera.

‘Who is this looney old seer who hasn’t got dawkins’

sense,

nor makes out even what children know, that a girl

does not

permit herself one word about love when the man she

meets

brings strangers with him? Away with you, you crackpot

prophet,

incompetent boob! It’s certainly not Aphrodite that

sends

your visions!’

“Mopsos listened to the bird with a smile, despite

the scolding. He turned to Jason and stretched out his

arms and said,

‘Carry on, Jason. Proceed to the temple where Medeia

awaits you.

Praise Aphrodite! Now Melas and I must go on with you no further. We’ll wait right here till your safe return.

Good luck!’

“Meanwhile the poor love-sick Medeia was singing

and dancing

with her maids — or rather, pretending to. For time and

again

her voice would falter and come to a halt. To keep her

eyes fixed

on the choir was more than she could do. She was

always turning them aside

to search the distant paths, and more than once she

was close

to fainting at a sound of wind she mistook for a footfall.

But at last

he appeared to her yearning eyes, striding like Sirius

rising

from the ocean — Sirius, hound of heaven, brilliant and beautiful but filled with menace for the

flocks. Medeia’s

heart stood still; her sight blurred. A flush spread across her cheeks. She could neither move toward him nor

retreat, but, as in

a frightening dream, her feet were rooted to the

ground. As songbirds

suddenly hush at an eagle’s approach, silent, titanic, scarcely moving a wing as it rings on invisible winds, so Medeia’s maidens fell silent and quickly disappeared.

Then Jason

and Aietes’ daughter stood face to face, without a word, like oaks or pines that stand in the mountains side by

side

in the hush when no breeze stirs.

“Then Jason, observing the pallor

on Medeia’s face and the quickness of her breath,

reached out to take

her hand — white fire shot through her — and said: “My

lady, I’m alone.

Why this terror? I was never profligate, here or at home in my own country. Take my word, no need to be on guard against me, but ask or tell me what you wish.

We’ve come

as friends, you and I, and come to a consecrated spot

which must not

be mocked. Speak to me: ask what you will. And since

you’ve promised

already to give me the charm I need, don’t put me off, I beg you, with timorous speeches. I plead by Hekate

herself,

by your parents and Zeus, whose hand protects all

suppliants.

Grant me your aid, and in days to come I’ll reward you

richly,

singing your praises through the world till your name is

immortalized.

Remember Ariadne, who befriended Theseus. She was a

darling of the gods

and her emblem is burning in the sky: all night

Ariadne’s Crown

rolls through the constellations. You, too, will be

thanked by the gods

if you save me and all my friends. Indeed, your

loveliness

seems outer proof of extraordinary beauty within.’

“So he spoke,

honoring her, and she lowered her gaze with a smile

embarrassed

and sweet. Then, uplifted by Jason’s praise, she looked

him in the face.

Yet how to begin she did not know. She longed to tell

the man everything at once.

But she drew the charm from her clove-scented cincture and dropped it in his hand. He received it with joy.

The princess revelled

in his need of her, and she would have poured out all

her soul to him,

so captivating was the light of love that filled his

gleaming

eyes. Her heart was warmed, made sweeter than the

dew on roses

in dawn’s first light.

“At one moment both were staring at the ground

in deep embarrassment; the next they were smiling,

glancing at each other

with shy love. At last Medeia forced out speech: listen. When you have met my father and he’s given

you

the serpent’s teeth, wait for the moment of midnight.

Then bathe

in a swift-running river. Afterward, go out in a robe

of black

and dig a round pit. There kill a ewe and sacrifice it

whole,

with libations of honey from the hive and prayers to

Hekate.

After that, withdraw. And do not be tempted to glance

behind you,

neither by footfalls and the baying of hounds nor by

anything else,

or you’ll never return alive. In the morning, melt this

charm

and rub it all over your body like oil. It will charge you

with strength

and confidence to make you a match for the gods

themselves. Then sprinkle

your spear and shield and sword as well. Then neither

the weapons

of the earthborn men nor the flames of the bulls can

touch you. But you’ll not

be immune for long — for one day only. Nevertheless, don’t flinch, ever, from the encounter. And something

more: When you

have yoked the bulls and ploughed the fallow (with

those great hands

and that great strength, it won’t take you long), and

the earthborn men

are springing up, watch till you see a good number of

them

rising from the loam, then throw a great boulder among

them and wait.

They’ll fall on it like famished wolves and kill one

another.

That’s your moment. Plunge in!

“ ‘And so you’ll be done, and can carry

the fleece to Hellas — a long, long way from Aia, I

believe.

But go, nonetheless. Go where you will, go where your

fancy

pleases, after you part from us.’ She fell silent, staring at the ground, and hot tears ran down her cheeks as

she saw him sailing

home. She looked at him and sorrowfully spoke. ‘If ever

you reach

your home, don’t forget what I have done for you.

As for myself, I’ll never forget you.’ Medeia paused, then timidly asked: Tell me about that girl you

mentioned—

the one who gave help to some hero and later grew

famous for it.’

Jason studied her, puzzled by her blush, and then,

suddenly,

he understood, and was touched by Medeia’s concern

for reputation,

her willingness to help him despite her fears. Gently

he said:

‘Ariadne, yes. Without her assistance, Theseus could