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‘What is in Pelias’ thoughts, King Zeus, that so goodly a band

Of heroes is hurled by him forth of the Panachaian land?

In the day of their coming with ravening fire the halls shall they fill

Of Aiêtes, except he shall yield them the Fleece of his own good will.

But a long way lieth between, unaccomplished yet is the toil.’

So spake they on this side and that through the city: the women the while,

Heavenward uplifting their hands, to the Gods that abide for aye

Made vehement prayer for the heart’s delight of the home-coming day.

And one to another made answer, and moaned, as her tears fell fast:{250}

‘Hapless Alkimedê, thee too evil hath found at the last;

Nor to thee was vouchsafed amid bliss to the end of thy days to attain!

Woe’s me for Aison the ill-starred!—verily this had been gain

For him, if rolled in his shroud before this woeful day,

Deep under Earth, with the cup of affliction untasted, he lay:

And O that the darkling surge, when Hellê the maiden died,

Had whelmed down Phrixus too with the ram!—but a man’s voice cried