ant and your
oaths, fear the Fury that avenges suppliants and the retribution of
heaven, if I fall into Aeetes' hands and am slain with grievous outrage.
To no shrines, no tower of defence, no other refuge do I pay heed,
but/only to you. Hard and pitiless in your cruelty! No reverence have ye
for me in your heart though ye see me helpless, stretching my hands
towards the knees of a stranger queen; yet, when ye longed to seize the
fleece, would have met all the Colchians face to face and haughty Aeetes
himself; but now ye have forgotten your courage, now that they are all
alone and cut off."

Thus she spake, beseeching; and to whomsoever she bowed in prayer, that
man tried to give her heart and to check her anguish. And in their hands
they shook their sharp pointed spears, and drew the swords from their
sheaths; and they swore they would not hold back from giving succour, if
she should meet with an unrighteous judgement. And the host were all
wearied and Night came on them, Night that puts to rest the works of
men, and lulled all the earth to sleep; but to the maid no sleep brought
rest, but in her bosom her heart was wrung with anguish. Even as when a
toiling woman turns her spindle through the night, and round her moan
her orphan children, for she is a widow, and down her cheeks fall the
tears, as she bethinks her how dreary a lot hath seized her; so Medea's
cheeks were wet; and her heart within her was in agony, pierced with
sharp pain.

Now within the palace in the city, as aforetime, lay lordly Alcinous and
Arete, the revered wife of Alcinous, and on their couch through the
night they were devising plans about the maiden; and him, as her wedded
husband, the wife addressed with loving words:

"Yea, my friend, come, save the woe-stricken maid from the Colchians and
show grace to the Minyae. Argos is near our isle and the men of
Haemonia; but Aeetes dwells not near, nor do we know of Aeetes one whit:
we hear but his name; but this maiden of dread suffering hath broken my
heart by her prayers. O king, give her not up to the Colchians to be
borne back to her father's home. She was distraught when first she gave
him the drugs to charm the oxen; and next, to cure one ill by another,
as in our sinning we do often, she fled from her haughty sire's heavy
wrath. But Jason, as I hear, is bound to her by mighty oaths that he
will make her his wedded wife within his halls. Wherefore, my friend,
make not, of thy will, Aeson's s