There on that very day the maiden would have tasted the drugs and perished and so have made void the purposes of Hera, had not the goddess driven her, all bewildered, to flee with the sons of Phrixus and her fluttering soul within her was comforted and then she poured from her bosom all the drugs back again into the casket. Often did she clutch at her throat, and often did she drag out her hair by the roots and groan in wretched despair. And she dreaded the guilty knowledge of her handmaids her eyes were filled with fire and her ears rung with a terrible cry. For at once she truly forboded that the aid she had given was not hidden from her father, and that quickly she would fill up the cup of woe. But into Medea's heart Hera cast most grievous fear and she trembled like a nimble fawn whom the baying of hounds hath terrified amid the thicket of a deep copse. Aeetes all night long with the bravest captains of his people was devising in his halls sheer treachery against the heroes, with fierce wrath in his heart at the issue of the hateful contest nor did he deem at all that these things were being accomplished without the knowledge of his daughters.
Surely my soul within me wavers with speechless amazement as I ponder whether I should call it the lovesick grief of mad passion or a panic flight, through which she left the Colchian folk. Now do thou thyself, goddess Muse, daughter of Zeus, tell of the labour and wiles of the Colchian maiden.
0 kommentar(er)
