er word:

"Hearken now, lady Thetis, to what I am eager to tell thee. Thou knowest
how honoured in my heart is the hero, Aeson's son, and the others that
have helped him in the contest, and how I saved them when they passed
between the Wandering rocks[1] where roar terrible storms of fire and
the waves foam round the rugged reefs. And now past the mighty rock of
Scylla and Charybdis horribly belching, a course awaits them. But thee
indeed from thy infancy did I tend with my own hands and love beyond all
others that dwell in the salt sea because thou didst refuse to share the
couch of Zeus for all his desire. For to him such deeds are ever dear,
to embrace either goddesses or mortal women. But in reverence for me and
with fear in thy heart thou didst shrink from his love; and he then
swore a mighty oath that thou shouldst never be called the bride of an
immortal god. Yet he ceased not from spying thee against thy will, until
reverend Themis declared to him the whole truth, how that it was thy
fate to bear a son mightier than his sire; wherefore he gave thee up,
for all his desire, fearing lest another should be his match and rule
the immortals, and in order that he might ever hold his own dominion.
But I gave thee the best of the sons of earth to be thy husband, that
thou mightest find a marriage dear to thy heart and bear children; and I
summoned to the feast the gods, one and all. And with my own hand I
raised the bridal torch, in return for the kindly honour thou didst pay
me. But come, let me tell a tale that erreth not. When thy son shall
come to the Elysian plain, he whom now in the home of Cheiron the
Centaur water-nymphs are tending, though he still craves thy mother
milk, it is fated that he be the husband of Medea, Aeetes' daughter; do
thou aid thy daughter-in-law as a mother-in-law should, and aid Peleus
himself. Why is thy wrath so steadfast? He was blinded by folly. For
blindness comes even upon the gods. Surely at my behest I deem that
Hephaestus will cease from kindling the fury of his flame, and that
Aeolus, son of Hippotas, will check his swift rushing winds, all but the
steady west wind, until they reach the havens of the Phaeacians; do thou
devise a return without bane. The rocks and the tyrannous waves are my
fear, they alone, and them thou canst foil with thy sisters' aid. And
let them not fall in their helplessness into Charybdis lest she swallow
them at one gulp, or approach the hideous lair of Scyl