busied with a mighty bull, others with the axe were
cleaving dry billets, and others heating with fire water for the baths;
nor was there one who relaxed his toil, serving the king.

(ll. 275-298) Meantime Eros passed unseen through the grey mist, causing
confusion, as when against grazing heifers rises the gadfly, which
oxherds call the breese. And quickly beneath the lintel in the porch
he strung his bow and took from the quiver an arrow unshot before,
messenger of pain. And with swift feet unmarked he passed the threshold
and keenly glanced around; and gliding close by Aeson's son he laid the
arrow-notch on the cord in the centre, and drawing wide apart with both
hands he shot at Medea; and speechless amazement seized her soul. But
the god himself flashed back again from the high-roofed hall, laughing
loud; and the bolt burnt deep down in the maiden's heart like a flame;
and ever she kept darting bright glances straight up at Aeson's son, and
within her breast her heart panted fast through anguish, all remembrance
left her, and her soul melted with the sweet pain. And as a poor woman
heaps dry twigs round a blazing brand--a daughter of toil, whose task is
the spinning of wool, that she may kindle a blaze at night beneath her
roof, when she has waked very early--and the flame waxing wondrous great
from the small brand consumes all the twigs together; so, coiling round
her heart, burnt secretly Love the destroyer; and the hue of her soft
cheeks went and came, now pale, now red, in her soul's distraction.

(ll. 299-303) Now when the thralls had laid a banquet ready before
them, and they had refreshed themselves with warm baths, gladly did they
please their souls with meat and drink. And thereafter Aeetes questioned
the sons of his daughter, addressing them with these words:

(ll. 304-316) "Sons of my daughter and of Phrixus, whom beyond all
strangers I honoured in my halls, how have ye come returning back to
Aea? Did some calamity cut short your escape in the midst? Ye did not
listen when I set before you the boundless length of the way. For I
marked it once, whirled along in the chariot of my father Helios, when
he was bringing my sister Circe to the western land and we came to the
shore of the Tyrrhenian mainland, where even now she abides, exceeding
far from Colchis. But what pleasure is there in words? Do ye tell
me plainly what has been your fortune, and who these men are, your
companions, and where from your holl