John Gardner - Jason and Medeia

enemy.’

Thus spoke the king of the Phaiakians, and at once

fell asleep.

But Arete, pondering the wisdom of his words, rose

silently

and hurried through the halls of the palace to find her

herald. She said:

‘Go swiftly to Jason, and advise him as I shall say.’

And she told

the king’s decision. And swift as a shadow the

Phaiakian went.

He found the Argonauts keeping armed watch in the

harbor near town,

and he gave them the message in full.

“At once, and with no debate,

the Argonauts set about the marriage rites. They mixed

new wine

for the immortal gods, led sheep to the altar that Argus

built—

so curiously fashioned that it seemed to be sculpted

from a single stone,

though its gem-bright parts were innumerable, and the

removal of any

would bring all its glory to ruin — and with their swords

they slew

the sheep. And before it was dawn, they made the

marriage bed

in a sacred grove. The swift-winged sons of the wind

brought flowers

from the rims of the world, and Euphemos, racing on

the sea, called nymphs

who came bringing gifts of coral and priceless pearl.

The heroes

famous for strength — Koronos, Telamon and Peleus, and mighty Leodokos, and Phlias, son of Dionysos,

and lean

Akastos, whose heart was like a bull’s — surrounded

the altar in a ring,

guarding the bride and groom and the old seer Mopsos,

in white,

from the attack of the Kolchians or demons from under

the earth, dark friends

of Helios. And behold, in the sky, snow white in the rays of the yet-horizoned sun, there appeared an eagle, sign of Zeus, so that none might carp in future days that the

marriage

was false, being made by necessity. They spread on the

bed

the golden fleece as a bridal sheet, and to Orpheus’ lyre, the Argonauts sang the hymeneal at the door of the

chamber,

and the nymphs of the tide sang with them. And thus

the son of Aison

and I, Medeia, were married.

‘Then dawn’s eyes lit the land,

old Helios red as a coal; and lightly, his hand on my

arm,

Lord Jason slept, at peace. Not I.

‘The streets now rang,

the whole Phaiakian city astir. On the far side of the island, the Kolchians were also awake. And

Alkinoös

went to them now, as promised, to give his decision

in the case.

He carried in his hand the staff of Judgment, the golden staff with which he gave out, impartially, justice among the Phaiakians. And with him throng on throng of Phaiakian noblemen came in procession,

armed.

Crowds of women meanwhile poured from the city to

view

the wide-famed Argonauts; and when they learned our

joyful news

they spread it far and wide, and all Phaiakia came to celebrate. One man led in the finest ram of his flock; another brought a heifer that had never

toiled; still others

brought bright, two-headed jars of wine. And far and

wide

the smoke of offerings coiled up blinding the sun.

There were golden

trinkets, embroidered robes, small animals in cages—

and still

the Phaiakians kept coming. There were casques of

chalcedony

and mottled jade, and figures of ebony, and ikons of gold with emerald eyes. There were baskets, carpets, bowls,

weapons,

there were songs not heard since the First Age — mute

Phlias danced—

and for seven days more they came, those gentle

Phaiakians.

“And as for Alkinoös, from the moment he gave his

judgment

and learned soon after of the marriage, he stood

intransigent.

He couldn’t be shaken by threats or oaths, and he

refused to dread,

beyond the displeasure of Zeus, Aietes’ enmity. When the Kolchians saw that their case was hopeless,

they remembered the vow

of Aietes, and feared to return to him. More humble

now,

they craved the king’s asylum. Alkinoös granted it. I wept for joy, all danger past. I was sure I would soon be home. I looked at Jason — that beautiful, gentle

face—

and could nearly believe, in spite of myself, that the

world was born

anew, all curses cancelled.

“But at times in dreams I saw

the merry old god of rivers, who laughed in the North,

untouched

by the sorrows that unhinge man. And at other times I

dreamed

I stood in the sacred grove of Artemis and searched for

something.

It would soon be dawn, the rim of the mountains

already on fire.

I must hurry. I must struggle to remember. Whatever

it was I sought,

it was near, as near as my heartbeat. I heard a footstep.

Or was it?

A swish like the blade of a scythe … that I

remembered … And I

would scream, and Jason would hold me, his eyes

impenetrable.

“So the days passed, and on the seventh day we left the isle of the Phaiakians, the Argo loaded to the beams with Phaiakian treasure. King Alkinoös

gave

strong men to replace all those we’d lost from the

rowing benches

in our dark wanderings, and Arete sent six maidens with

me

to comfort and serve me as once I was served at home.

On the shore

King Alkinoös and his queen stretched up their hands

and prayed

to the gods for our easy passage and final forgiveness

for crimes

committed of harsh necessity; and the people kneeled, the whole population, weeping. And so we left the

place,

sailing for home. I rolled the sound on my tongue.

For home.

I started, cried out. For out of the corner of my eye,

I thought,

I’d caught a glimpse of the river-god combing his beard,

watching us,

terrible god from the beginning of things, who laughed

at guilt.

‘Jason!’ I whispered.

“ ‘Easy, my love,’ said Jason, smiling.

They were all smiling, their eyes like the gods’ dark

mirror, the sea.”

I awakened and looked in alarm for Medeia. The voice

had ceased

and the winds that tumble and roar in space — so I

thought in my dream—

were swallowed to nothing. I clung to the bole of the

oak like a bat.

Then came a shimmering light, sea-green on every side, blurred cloudshapes, moving, like crowds of sea-beasts

hemming me in.

The silence changed; it swelled — more swift than a

falling tower—

to a boom, sharp voices of angry men. And now,

suddenly,

my eyes focussed, or the universe focussed, life crashed

in on me:

sweat-dank, bearded sailors milling like bees in a hive, howling against some outrage, I knew not what.

I’d grown

more solid, it seemed. When they bumped me, hurriedly

elbowing past,

I staggered. They tromped my feet, jostled me,

caved in my hat

with no apology, hardly a glance. Wold-I, nold-I, I moved with the crowd. Men all around and ahead of

me jumped,

clambered for a view, shook fists, shouted. I caught a

few snatches.

Someone was dead, murdered by the king, the crew

of some ship

arrested by Kreon’s police. Some voice of authority

bellowed

from a raised platform somewhere ahead of us, but his

cries were drowned

by the roar of the mob. I struggled for breath, shouted for the goddess, but no help came. Some man at my

back growled bitterly,

“Corinth is cursed. We were fools to come.” Another

voice answered,

“Everywhere’s cursed.” I craned my neck to see who’d

spoken,

but they all looked alike, their tanned hides toughened