Their thirst was quenched by the river, and the army having ravaged 
	the water’s depths was leaving the banks and the diminished stream; 
	more briskly now the galloping steed scours the plain, and the infantry 
	swarm exultant over the fields, inspired once more by courage and hope 
5	and warlike temper, as though from the blood-stained springs 
	they had drunk the fire of battle and high resolution for the fray. 
	Marshalled again in squadrons and the stern discipline of rank, 
	they are bidden renew the march, each in his former place and under 
	the same leader as before. Already the first dust is rising 
10	from the earth, and arms are flashing through the trees. 
	Just so do flocks of screaming birds,1 caught by the Pharian summer, 
	wing their way across the sea from Paraetonian2 Nile, whither the fierce 
	winter drove them; they fly, a shadow upon the sea and land, 
	and their cry follows them, filling the pathless heaven. 
15	Soon will it be their delight to breast the north wind and the rain, soon to swim 
	on the melted rivers, and to spend the summer days on naked Haemus.
	
	Then the son of Talaus, ringed round once more by a band 
	of chieftain peers, as he stood by chance beneath an aged ash-tree, 
	and leaned on Polynices’ spear hard by him, thus spoke: 
20	“Nay, tell us, thou, whoe’er thou art, to whom – such is thy glory – 
	fate3 has brought our countless cohorts owing thee 
	such high honour as the Sire of the gods himself would not despise – 
	tell us, now that we are departing in all speed from thy waters, 
	what is thy home or native land, from what stars didst thou draw thy life?4 
25	And who was that sire thou spakest of? For heaven is not far to seek 
	in thy descent, though fortune may have been traitorous; a nobler birth is 
	in thy looks, and even in affliction thy countenance breathes majesty.”
	
	The Lemnian sighed, and, stayed by shamefast tears awhile, 
	then makes reply: “Deep are the wounds, O prince, 
30	thou biddest me revive, the tale of Lemnos and its Furies and of murder 
	done even in the bed’s embrace, and of the shameful sword whereby 
	our manhood perished; ah! the wickedness comes back upon me, 
	the freezing Horror grips my heart! Ah! miserable they, upon whom this frenzy came! 
	alas, that night! alas, my father! for I am she – lest haply ye feel shame 
35	for your kindly host – I am she, O chieftains, who alone did steal away 
	and hide her father. But why do I weave the long prelude to my woes? 
	Moreover battle summons you and your hearts’ high enterprise. 
	Thus much doth it suffice to tell: I am Hypsipyle, born 
	of renowned Thoas, and captive thrall to your Lycurgus.”
	
40	Close heed they gave her then, and nobler she seemed 
	and worthy of honour, and equal to such a deed; then all craved 
	to learn her story, and father Adrastus foremost urged her: 
	“Ay, verily, while we set in long array the columns of our van – 
	nor does Nemea readily allow a broad host to draw clear, 
45	so closely hemmed is she by woodland and entangling shade – 
	tell us of the crime, and of thy praiseworthy deed and the sufferings of thy people, 
	and how cast out from thy realm thou art come to this toil of thine.”
	
	Pleasant is it to the unhappy to speak, and to recall the sorrows of old time. 
	Thus she begins: “Set amid the encircling tides of Aegean Nereus 
50	lies Lemnos, where Mulciber draws breath again from his labours 
	in fiery Aetna; Athos hard by clothes the land with his mighty 
	shadow, and darkens the sea with the image of his forests; 
	opposite the Thracians plough, the Thracians, from whose shores 
	came our sin and doom. Rich and populous was our land, 
55	no less renowned than Samos or echoing5 Delos 
	or the other countless isles against which Aegon6 dashes in foam. 
	It was the will of the gods to confound our homes, but our own hearts 
	are not free from guilt; no sacred fires did we kindle to Venus, 
	the goddess had no shrine. Even celestial minds are moved at last 
60	to resentment, and slow but sure the Avenging Powers creep on. 
	
	“She, leaving ancient Paphos and her hundred shrines, 
	with altered looks and tresses,7 loosed, so they say, her 
	love-alluring girdle and banished her Idalian doves afar. 
	Some, ‘tis certain, of the women told it abroad that the goddess, 
65	armed with other torches and deadlier weapons, 
	had flitted through the marriage chambers in the darkness of midnight 
	with the sisterhood of Tartarus about her, and how she had filled 
	every secret place with twining serpents and our bridal thresholds 
	with dire terror, pitying not the people of her faithful spouse. 
70	Straightway fled ye from Lemnos, ye tender Loves: 
	Hymen fell mute and turned his torch to earth; chill neglect came 
	o’er the lawful couch, no nightly return of joy was there, 
	no slumber in the beloved embrace, everywhere reigned bitter 
	Hatred and Frenzy and Discord sundering the partners of the bed. 
75	For the men were bent on overthrowing the boastful Thracians 
	across the strait, and warring down the savage tribe. 
	And in despite of home and their children standing on the shore, 
	sweeter it was to them to bear Edonian winters and the brunt of the 
	cold North, or, when at last still night followed a day of battle, 
80	to hear the sudden onburst of the crashing mountain torrent. 
	But the women – for I at that time was sheltered by care-free 
	maidenhood and tender years – sad and sick at heart 
	sought tearful solace in converse day and night, 
	or gazed out across the sea to cruel Thrace.
	
85	“The sun in the midst of his labours was poising his shining chariot 
	on Olympus’ height, as though at halt; four times came thunder from 
	a serene sky, four times did the smoky caverns of the god8 open 
	their panting summits, and Aegon, thought the winds were hushed, 
	was stirred and flung a mighty sea against the shores: 
90	when suddenly the crone Polyxo is caught up in a dire frenzy, 
	and deserting unwontedly her chamber flies abroad. 
	Like a Teumesian9 Thyiad rapt to madness by the god, 
	when the sacred rites are calling and the boxwood pipe of Ida10 
	stirs her blood, and the voice of Euhan is heard upon the high hills: 
95	even so with head erect and quivering bloodshot 
	eyes she ranges up and down the lonely city wildly 
	clamouring, and beating at closed doors and thresholds 
	summons us to council; her children clinging to her 
	bear her woeful company. No less eagerly do all the women 
100	burst from their houses and rush to the citadel of Pallas on the 
	hill-top: hither in feverish haste we press and crowd disorderly.
	
	“Then with drawn sword she commands silence, 
	and prompting us to crime dares thus to speak among us: 
	‘Inspired by heaven and our just anger, O widowed Lemnians – 
105	steel now your courage and banish thought of sex! – 
	I make bold to justify a desperate deed. If ye are weary 
	of watching homes for ever desolate, of watching your beauty’s flower 
	blight and wither in long barren years of weeping, 
	I have found a way, I promise you – and the Powers are with us! – 
110	a way to renew the charm of Love; only take courage 
	equal to your griefs, yea, and of that assure me first. 
	Three winters now have whitened – which of us has known the bonds of wedlock, 
	or the secret honours of the marriage chamber? Whose bosom has glowed 
	with conjugal love? Whom has Lucina beheld in travail? 
115	Whose ripening hope throbs in the womb as the due months 
	draw on? Yet such permission is granted to beasts and birds to unite 
	after their manner. Alas! sluggards that we are! Could a Grecian sire11 
	give avenging weapons to his daughters, and with treacherous joy 
	drench in blood the bridegroom’s careless slumber? 
120	And are we then to be but a spiritless mob? Or if ye would have deeds 
	nearer home, lo! let the Thracian wife12 teach us courage, who with 
	her own hand avenged her union and set the feast before her spouse. 
	Nor do I urge you on, guiltless myself or without care: 
	full is my own house, and huge – ay, look13 – the struggle. 
125	Behold these four together, the pride and comfort of their sire; 
	though they should stay me with embraces and tears, even here in my bosom 
	I will pierce them with the sword, and unite the brothers in one heap 
	of wounds and blood, and set their father’s corpse on their yet breathing bodies! 
	Who of you can promise me a spirit for slaughter so great?’
	
130	“Yet more was she urging, when yonder out at sea white sails shone – 
	the Lemnian fleet! Exultant, Polyxo seizes the moment’s chance 
	and cries again: `The gods themselves invite us – do we fail them? 
	See, there are the ships! Heaven, avenging heaven, brings them to meet 
	our wrath, and favours our resolve. Not vain was the vision 
135	of my sleep: with naked sword Venus stood over me as I slumbered, 
	plain to my sight, and cried: “Why do ye waste your lives? 
	Go, purge your chambers of the husbands who have lost their love! 
	I myself will light you other torches and join you in worthier unions.” 
	She spoke, and laid this sword, this very sword, believe it, 
140	on my couch. Take heed then, unhappy ones, whilst there is time to act. 
	Lo! the waters churn and foam beneath the strong arms 
	of the rowers – perchance Thracian brides come with them!’
	
	“At this all are wrought to highest pitch, and a loud clamour rolls upward 
	to the skies. One would think it was Scythia swarming with tumultuous 
145	bucklers, when the Father gives rein to armed conflict 
	and flings wide the gates of savage War. 
	Their uproar held no varying voices, nor did dissension cleave into 
	opposing factions, as is the wont of a crowd; one frenzy, one purpose 
	inspires all alike, to lay desolate our homes, to break life’s thread for young 
150	and old, to crush babes against the teeming breasts, 
	and with the sword make havoc through every age. 
	Then in a green grove – a grove that darkens the ground 
	hard by the lofty hill of Minerva, black itself, but above it the mountain 
	looms huge, and the sunlight perishes in a twofold night – 
155	they pledged their solemn word, and thou wast witness, Martian Enyo, 
	and thou, Ceres of the underworld,14 and the Stygian goddesses 
	came in answer to their prayers; but unseen among them 
	everywhere was Venus, Venus armed, Venus kindling wrath. 
	Unwonted was the blood, for the wife of Charops made offering 
160	of her son, and they girded themselves, and at once all greedily 
	stretched forth their right hands and mangled with the sword 
	his marvelling breast, and made common oath in impious joy upon 
	the living blood, while the new ghost hovers about his mother. 
	What horror struck my limbs when I beheld so dire a sight! 
165	What colour came upon my cheeks! As when a deer is surrounded 
	by savage wolves, and no strength is left in her tender 
	breast and scanty confidence in speed of foot, 
	she darts away in fearful flight, and each moment believes that 
	she is taken, and hears behind her the snap of baffled jaws.
	
170	“They were come, and already the keels grated on the edge 
	of the strand, and they leap ashore in emulous haste. 
	Unhappy they, whom their stark valour ‘neath Odrysian Mars15 
	destroyed not, nor the rage of the intervening sea! 
	And now they fill with smoke of incense the high shrines of the gods, 
175	and drag their promised victims; but murky is the fire on every 
	altar, and in no entrails breathes the god unimpaired.16 
	Slowly did Jupiter bring down the night from moist Olympus, 
	and with kindly care held back, I ween, the turning sky, 
	and stayed the fates, nor ever, the sun’s course finished, 
180	did the new shadows longer delay their coming. 
	Yet at last the late stars shone in heaven, but their light 
	fell on Paros and woody Thasos and the myriad Cyclades: 
	Lemnos alone lies under a heavy sky’s thick pall of darkness, 
	gloomy fogs descend upon it and above is a woven belt of night, 
185	alone is Lemnos unmarked of wandering mariners. 
	And now, streaming forth from their homes and through the shade 
	of sacred groves, they sate themselves in sumptuous feasting 
	and drain vast golden goblets of the brimmingwine, and tell 
	at their leisure of battles on the Strymon, of sweat of war 
190	on Rhodope or frozen Haemus. Nay more, their wives, unnatural consorts, 
	recline among the garlands and by the festal tables, each in her choicest 
	raiment; on that last night Cytherea had made their husbands gracious 
	toward them, and given a brief moment of vain bliss after so long 
	a time, and breathed into the doomed ones a passion soon to perish.
	
195	“The choirs fell silent, a term is set to banqueting 
	and amorous sport, and as night deepens the noises die away, 
	when Sleep, shrouded in the gloom of his brother Death 
	and dripping with Stygian dew, enfolds the doomed city, 
	and from his relentless horn pours heavy drowse, and 
200	marks out the men. Wives and daughters are awake for 
	murder, and joyously do the Sisters sharpen their savage weapons. 
	They fall to their horrid work: in the breast of each her Fury reigns. 
	Not otherwise on Scythian plains are cattle surrounded by 
	Hyrcanian lionesses, whom hunger drives forth at sunrise 
205	and greedy cubs implore for their udders’ milk. 
	Of a thousand shapes of guilt I hesitate what to tell thee 
	that befell.17
	
			“Bold Gorge stands over her chaplet-crowned 
	Elymus, who on high-piled cushions pants out in his sleep 
	the rising fumes of wine, and probes in his disordered 
210	garments for a vital blow, but his ill-omened slumber 
	flees from him at the near approach of death. 
	Confused and half-awake, he seizes his foe in his embrace, 
	and she, as he holds her, straightway stabs through his side 
	from behind, till the point touches her own breast. 
215	There at last the crime had ending: his head falls back, 
	but still with quivering eyes and murmur of endearing words he seeks 
	for Gorge, nor losses his arms from her unworthy neck. 
	I will not now tell of the slaughter of the multitude, cruel as it was, 
	but I will recall the woes of my own family: 
220	how I beheld thee, fair-haired Cydon, and thee, Crenaeus, 
	with thy unshorn locks streaming o’er thy shoulders – my foster-brothers 
	these, born of another sire – and brave Gyas, my betrothed, of whom 
	I stood in awe, all fallen beneath the blow of bloodthirsty Myrmidone; 
	and how his savage mother pierced Epopeus 
225	as he played among the garlands and the couches. 
	Lycaste, her weapon flung away, is weeping over Cydimus, her brother of 
	equal years, gazing alas! upon his doomed body, his face so like 
	her own, the bloom upon his cheeks and that hair which she herself had decked 
	in gold, when her cruel mother, her spouse already slain, stands over her, 
230	and threatening drives her to the deed, and thrusts the sword upon her. 
	Like a wild beast, that under a soothing master has unlearnt its madness 
	and is slow to make attack, and in spite of goadings and many a blow refuses 
	to assume its native temper, so she falls upon him as he lies, 
	and sinking down gathers the welling blood in her bosom, 
235	and staunches the fresh wounds with her torn tresses.
	
	“But when I beheld Alcimede carry her father’s head 
	still murmuring and his bloodless sword, my hair stood erect 
	and fierce shuddering horror swept through my frame; 
	that was my Thoas, methought, and that my own 
240	dread hand! Straightway in agony I rush to my father’s chamber. 
	He indeed long while had pondered – what sleep for him whose charge 
	is great? – although our spacious home lay apart from the city, 
	what was the uproar, what the noises of the night, why the hours 
	of rest were clamorous. I tell a confused story of the crime, what was 
245	their grievance, whence their passionate wrath. ‘No force can stop 
	their frenzy; follow this way, unhappy one; they are pursuing, and will be on us 
	if we linger, and perchance we shall fall together.’ Alarmed by my words 
	he sprang up from the couch. We hurry through devious paths of the 
	vast city, and, shrouded in a covering of mist, everywhere behold 
250	great heaps of nocturnal carnage, wheresoe’er throughout the 
	sacred groves the cruel darkness had laid them low. 
	Here could one see faces pressed down upon the couches, 
	and the sword-hilts projecting from breasts laid open, broken fragments 
	of great spears and bodies with raiment gashed and torn, 
255	mixing-bowls upset and banquets floating in gore, 
	and mingled wine and blood streaming back 
	like a torrent to the goblets from gaping throats. 
	Here are a band of youths, and there old men whom no violence 
	should profane, and children half-slain flung o’er the faces 
260	of their moaning parents and gasping our their trembling souls 
	on the threshold of life. No fiercer are the banquet-revellings 
	of the Lapithae on frozen Ossa, when the cloud-born ones18 
	grow hot with wine deep-drained; scarce has wrath’s first pallor 
	seized them, when overthrowing their tables they start up to the affray.
	
265	“Then first Thyoneus19 beneath night’s cover revealed 
	himself to us in our distress, succouring his son Thoas in his 
	hour of need, and shone in a sudden blaze of light. 
	I knew him: yet he had bound no chaplets round his 
	swelling temples, nor yellow grapes about his hair: 
270	but a cloud was upon him, and his eyes streamed angry rain as he 
	addressed us: `While the fates granted thee, my son, 
	to keep Lemnos mighty and feared still by foreign peoples, 
	never failed I to aid thy righteous labours; 
	the stern Parcae have cut short the relentless threads, 
275	nor have my prayers and tears, poured forth in vain supplication 
	before Jove, availed to turn away this woe; 
	to his daughter hath he granted honour unspeakable.20 
	Hasten ye then your flight, and thou, O maiden, worthy offspring 
	of my race, guide thy sire this way where the wall’s twin arms approach 
280	the sea; at yonder gate, where thou thinkest all is quiet, 
	stands Venus in fell mood and aids the furious ones; - 
	whence hath the goddess this violence, this heart of Mars? 
	Trust thou thy father to the broad deep: I will take thy cares 
	upon me.’
	
			“So speaking he faded into air again, 
285	and since the shadows barred our vision lit up our road 
	with a long stream of fire, in kindly succour. 
	I follow where the signal leads, and anon entrust my sire, 
	hidden in a vessel’s curving beams, to the gods of the sea and the winds 
	and Aegaeon who holds the Cyclades in his embrace; nor set we any limit 
290	to our mutual grief, were it not that Lucifer is already chasing the stars 
	from the eastern pole. Then at last I leave the sounding shore, 
	in brooding fear and scarce trusting Lyaeus’ word, 
	resolute in step but casting anxious thoughts behind me; 
	nor rest I but must fain watch from every hill the breezes 
295	rising in heaven and the ocean waves.
	
	“Day rises shamefast, and Titan opening heaven to view 
	turns aside his beams from Lemnos and hides his averted chariot 
	behind the barrier of a cloud. Night’s frenzied deeds lay manifest, 
	and to all the new terrors of the day brought sudden shame, 
300	though all had share therin; they bury in the earth their 
	impious crimes or burn with hurried fires. 
	And now the Fury band and Venus sated to the full had fled 
	the stricken city; now could the women know what they had dared, 
	now rend their hair and bedew their eyes with tears. 
305	This island blest in lands and wealth, in arms and heroes, 
	famed for its site and enriched of late by a Getic triumph, has lost, 
	not by onslaught of the sea or of the foe or by stroke 
	of heaven, all her folk together, bereft and ravaged to the 
	uttermost. No men are left to plough the fields or cleave the waves, 
310	silent are the homes, swimming deep in blood and 
	stained red with clotted gore: we alone remain in that great city, 
	we and the ghosts that fiercely hiss about our rooftops. 
	I, too, in the inner courtyard of my house build high 
	a flaming pile and cast thereon my father’s sceptre 
315	and arms and well-known royal raiment, and sadly do I stand 
	by the blazing welter of the pyre with blood-stained sword, 
	and lament the feigned deed and empty funeral in fear, 
	should they perchance accuse me, and pray that the omen may be void of harm 
	towards my sire and that so my doubting fears of death may come to naught.21
	
320	“For these deserts – since the ruse of my pretended crime 
	wins credence – the throne and kingdom of my father are given me – 
	punishment indeed! Was I do deny their urgent pressure? 
	I submitted, having oft called heaven to witness my innocence 
	and to give protection; I succeed – ah! ghastly sovereignty – 
325	to power’s pale image and to a Lemnos sad without its chief. 
	And now ever more and more do they writhe in wakeful anguish, 
	now openly lament, and little by little grow to hate Polyxo; 
	now is it permitted to remember the crime, and to set altars to 
	the dead and adjure with many prayers their buried ashes. 
330	Even so when the frightened heifers behold in horror their leader 
	and sire of the stall, to whom belonged the pastures and the glory 
	of the grown herd, lying mangled beneath the Massylian foe,22 
	leaderless and dejected goes the herd, and the very fields 
	and rivers with the mute cattle mourn the monarch slain.
	
335	“But lo! dividing the waters with brazen prow the Pelian 
	pinewood bark draws nigh, stranger to that wide unadventured 
	sea: the Minyae are here crew; the twofold splashing wave runs white 
	along her towering sides: one would think Ortygia moved uprooted 
	or a sundered mountain sailed upon the deep. 
340	But when the oars stayed poised in air and the waters fell silent, 
	there came from the vessel’s midst a voice sweeter than dying swans 
	or quill of Phoebus, and the seas themselves drew night the ship. 
	Thereafter did we learn ‘twas Orpheus, son of Oeagrus, 
	who leaning against the mast sang thus amid the rowers 
345	and bade them know such toils no more. 
	Towards Scythian Boreas were they voyaging and the mouth 
	of the unattempted sea that the Cyanean rocks hold fast. 
	We at the sight of them deemed them Thracian foes, and ran to 
	our homes in wild confusion like crowding cattle or fluttering birds. 
350	Alas! where now is our frenzied rage? We man the harbour and the 
	shore-embracing walls, which give a far view over the open sea, 
	and the lofty towers; hither in excited haste they bring stones and stakes 
	and the arms that mourn their lords, and swords stained 
	with slaughters; nay, it shames them not to don stiff woven 
355	corselets and to fit helms about their wanton faces; 
	Pallas blushed and marvelled at their bold array, 
	and Gradivus laughed on the far slopes of Haemus. 
	Then first did our headlong madness leave our minds, 
	nor seemed it a mere ship on the salt sea, but the gods’ late-coming justice 
360	and vengeance for our crimes that drew nigh o’er the deep. 
	
	“And already were they distant from the land the range of a 
	Gortynian23 shaft, when Jupiter brought a cloud laden with dark rain 
	and set it over the very rigging of the Pelasgian 
	ship; then the waters shudder, all its light is stolen from the sun24 
365	and the gloom thickens, and the wave straightway takes 
	the colour of the gloom; warring winds tear the hollow clouds 
	and rend the deep, the wet sand surges up in the black eddies, 
	and the whole sea hangs poised between the conflict of the 
	winds, and with arching ridge now all but touching the stars falls 
370	shattered; nor has the bewildered vessel its former motion, 
	but pitches to and fro, with the Triton on its bows now projecting 
	from the waters’ depths, now borne aloft in air. Nor aught avails the might 
	of the heroes half-divine, but the demented mast makes the vessel 
	rock and sway,25 and falling forward with overbalancing weight 
375	smites upon the arching waves, and the oars drop fruitlessly on the rowers’ chests.
	
	“We, too, from rocks and every walled rampart, 
	while they thus toil and rage against he seas and the southern blasts, 
	with weak arms shower down wavering missiles – 
	what deed did we not dare? – on Telamon and Peleus, 
380	and even on the Tirynthian we bend our bow. 
	But they, hard pressed both by storm and foe, fortify, 
	some of them, the ship with shields,26 others bale water 
	from the hold; others fight, but the motion makes their bodies 
	helpless, and there is no force behind their reeling blows. 
385	We hurl our darts more fiercely, and the iron rain vies 
	with the tempest, and enormous stakes and fragments of millstones 
	and javelins and missiles trailing tresses of flame fall 
	now into the sea, now on the vessel: the decking of the bark 
	resounds and the beams groan as the gaping holes are torn. 
390	Even so does Jupiter lash the green fields with 
	Hyperborean snow; beasts of all kinds perish on the plains, 
	and birds are overtaken and fall dead, and the harvest is blasted 
	with untimely frost; then is there thundering on the heights, and fury in the rivers. 
	But when from on high Jove flung his brand with shock of cloud on cloud, 
395	and the flash revealed the mariners’ mighty forms, 
	our hearts were frozen fast, our arms dropped shuddering and let fall 
	the unnatural weapons, and our true sex once more held sway.
	
	“We behold the sons of Aeacus, and Ancaeus threatening mightily 
	our walls, and Iphitus with long spear warding off the rocks; 
400	clear to view among the desperate band the son of Amphitryon 
	outtops them all, and alternately on either hand weighs down 
	the ship and burns to leap into the midst of the waves. 
	But Jason – not yet did I know him to my cost – leaping nimbly 
	over benches and oars and treading the backs of heroes, 
405	calls now on great Oenides, now on Idas and Talaus, 
	now on the son of Tyndareus27 dripping with the white spume 
	of the sea, and Calais driving aloft in the clouds of his frosty sire28 
	to fasten the sails to the mast, and with voice and gesture again 
	and again encourages them. With vigorous strokes they lash 
410	the sea and shake the walls, but none the more do the foaming 
	waters yield, and the flung spears rebound from our towers. 
	Tiphys himself wearies by his labours the heavy billows and 
	the tiller that will not hear him, and pale with anxiety oft changes 
	his commands, and turns right- and leftward from the land 
415	the prow that would fain dash itself to shipwreck on the rocks, 
	until from the vessel’s tapering bows the son of Aeson holds forth 
	the olive-branch of Pallas that Mopsus bore, 
	and through the tumult of his comrades would prevent him, 
	asks for peace; his words were swept away by the headlong gale.
	
420	Then came there a truce to arms, and the tempest likewise 
	sank to rest, and day looked forth once more from the turbid heaven. 
	Then those fifty heroes, their vessels duly moored,29 
	as they leap from the sheer height shake the stranger shores, 
	tall comely sons of glorious sires, serene of brow and known 
425	by their bearings, now that the swelling rage has left their 
	countenances. Even so the denizens of heaven are said to burst forth 
	from their mystic portals, when they desire to visit the homes and the coast 
	and the lesser banquet of the red Aethiopians30: 
	rivers and mountains yield them passage, Earth exults beneath 
430	their footsteps and Atlas knows a brief respite from the burden of the sky.
	
	“Here we behold Theseus, lately come in triumph from setting Marathon 
	free,31 and the Ismarian32 brethren, pledges of the North Wind’s love, 
	with red wing-feathers whirring loud on either temple; 
	here, too, Admetus, whom Phoebus was content to serve, 
435	and Orpheus, in nought resembling barbarous Thrace; 
	then Calydon’s offspring and the son-in-law of watery 
	Nereus. The twin Oebalidae33 bewilder our vision 
	with puzzling error: each wears a bright red mantle and wields 
	a spear, bare on the shoulders of each and their faces unbearded, 
440	their locks are aglow with the same starry radiance. 
	Young Hylas bravely marching follows great Hercules stride 
	for stride, scarce equalling his pace, slow though he bear 
	his mighty bulk, and rejoices to carry the Lernaean 
	arms and to sweat beneath the huge quiver.
	
445	“So once more Venus and Love try with their secret fires 
	the fierce hearts of the Lemnian women. Then royal Juno instils 
	into their minds the image of the heroes’ arms and raiment, and their signs 
	of noble race, and all fling open their doors in emulous welcome 
	to the strangers. Then first were fires lit on the altars, 
450	and unspeakable cares were forgotten, then came feasting 
	and happy sleep and tranquil nights, nor without heaven’s will, 
	I ween, did they find favour, when they confessed their crime. 
	My fault, too, my fated pardonable fault, perchance ye would hear, 
	O chieftains: by the ashes and avenging furies of my people 
455	I swear, innocent and unwilling did I light the torch of alien 
	wedlock – as Heaven’s Providence doth know – though Jason be wily 
	to ensnare young maidens’ hearts: laws of its own bind blood-stained 
	Phasis, and you, ye Colchians, breed far different passions. 
	And now the skies have broken through the bonds of frost and grow warm 
460	in the long sunlit days and the swift year has wheeled round to the opposite pole. 
	A new progeny is brought to birth in answer to our prayers, 
	and Lemnos is filled with the cries of babes unhoped-for. 
	I myself also bear twin sons, memorial of a ravished 
	couch, and, made a mother by my rough guest, 
465	renew in the babe his grandsire’s name; nor may I know what fortune 
	hath befallen since I left them, for now full twenty years are past, 
	if the fates but suffer them to live and Lycaste reared them as I prayed her.
	
	“The boisterous seas fell tranquil and a milder southern breeze 
	invites the sails: the ship herself, hating to tarry in the quiet haven, 
470	strains with her hawsers at the resisting rock. 
	Then would the Minyae fain begone, and cruel Jason summons 
	his comrades – would he had ere that sailed past 
	my shores, who recked not of his own children, 
	nor of his sworn word; truly his fame is known in distant 
475	lands: the fleece of seafaring Phrixus hath returned. 
	When the destined sun had sunk beneath the sea and Tiphys 
	felt the coming breeze and Phoebus’ western couch blushed red, 
	once more alas! there was lamentation, once more the last night of all. 
	Scarce is the day begun, and already Jason high upon the poop gives 
480	the word for sailing, and strikes as chieftain the first oar-stroke on the sea. 
	From rocks and mountain height we follow them with our gaze 
	as they cleave the foamy space of outspread ocean, 
	until the light wearied our roaming34 vision and seemed to 
	interweave the distant waters with the sky, and made 
485	the sea one with heaven’s extremest marge.
	
	“A rumour goes about the harbour that Thoas has been carried o’er the deep 
	and is reigning in his brother’s isle of Chios, that I am innocent 
	and the funeral pyre a mockery; the impious mob clamours loud, 
	maddened by the stings of guilt, and demands the crime I owe them. 
490	Moreover, secret murmurings arise and increase among the folk: 
	‘Is she alone faithful to her kindred, while we rejoiced to slay? 
	Did not heaven and fate ordain the deed? why then bears she rule in the city, 
	the accursed one?’35 Aghast at such words – for a cruel retribution draws nigh, 
	nor does queenly pomp delight me – I wander alone in secret 
495	on the winding shore and leave the deadly walls by the road of my father’s flight, 
	well known to me; but not a second time did Euhan meet me, 
	for a band of pirates putting in to shore carried me 
	speechless away and brought me to your land a slave.”
	
	While thus the Lemnian exile recounts her tale to the Lernaean 
500	princes and by a long plaint consoles her loss, 
	forgetful – so ye gods constrained her! – of her absent charge,36 
	he, with heavy eyes and drooping head and wearied by his long 
	childish play, sinks to slumber, deep buried in the luxuriant earth, 
	while one hand holds the grass tight-clutched.
	
505	Meanwhile an earth-born serpent, the accursed terror of the 
	Achaean grove, arises on the mead, and loosely dragging his 
	huge bulk now bears it forward, now leaves it behind him. 
	A livid gleam is in his eyes, the green spume of foaming poison 
	in his fangs, and a threefold quivering tongue, with three rows of hooked 
510	teeth, and a cruel blazonry rises high upon his gilded forehead. 
	The Inachian countrymen held him sacred to the Thunderer, 
	who has the guardianship of the place and the scant worship of the 
	woodland altars; and now he glides with trailing coils 
	about the shrines, now grinds the hapless forest oaks 
515	and crushes huge ash-trees in his embrace; 
	oft lies he in continuous length from bank to bank across 
	the streams, and the river sundered by his scales swells high. 
	But fiercer now, when all the land is panting at the command of the 
	Ogygian god37 an the Nymphs are hurrying to the hiding of their dusty beds, 
520	he twists his tortuous writhing frame upon the ground, 
	and the fire of his parched venom fills him with a baneful rage. 
	Over pools and arid lakes and stifled springs he winds 
	his way, and wanders in the riverless valleys, 
	and consumed by burning thirst38 now flings back his head 
525	and laps the liquid air, now brushing o’er the groaning fields 
	cleaves downward to the earth, should there be any sap or moisture 
	in the grasses; but the herbage falls stricken by his hot breath, 
	whereso’er he turns his head, and the mead shrivels at the hissing of his jaws; 
	vast is he as the Snake that divides the pole from the Norther Wain 
530	and passes even unto the Southern winds and an alien sky,39 
	or as he that shook the horns of sacred Parnassus, 
	twining his coils among them, until pierced by a hundred 
	wound he bore, O Delian, a forest of thy arrows.40
	
	What god appointed for thee, little one, the burden of so dire 
535	a fate? Scarce on thy life’s earliest threshold, art thou slain by 
	such a foe? Was it that thus thou mightest be sacred for ever 
	to the peoples of Greece and dying merit so glorious a burial? 
	Thou diest, O babe, struck by the end of the unwitting 
	serpent’s tail, and straightway the sleep left thy limbs 
540	and thine eyes opened but to death alone. 
	But when thy frightened dying wail rose upon 
	the air and the broken cry fell silent on thy lips, 
	like the half-finished accents of a dream, 
	Hypsipyle, heard it and sped with faint and failing limbs 
545	and stumbling gait; her mind forebodes sure disaster, 
	and with gaze turned to every quarter she scans 
	the ground in search, vainly repeating words 
	the babe would know; but he is nowhere, and the recent tracks 
	are vanished from the meadows. Gathered in a green circle lies 
550	the sluggish foe and fills many an acre round, 
	so lies he with his head slantwise on his belly. 
	Struck with horror at the sight the unhappy woman 
	roused the forest’s depths with shriek on shriek; 
	yet still he lies unmoved. 
	
				Her sorrowful wail reached the Argives’ 
555	ears: forthwith the Arcadian knight41 at his chief’s word flies thither 
	in eager haste and reports the cause. Then at last, at the glint 
	of armour and the shouting of men he rears his scaly neck 
	in wrath: with a vast effort tall Hippomedon seizes a stone, 
	the boundary mark of a field, and hurls it through the 
560	empty air; with such a whirlwind do the poised boulders 
	fly forth against the barred gates in time of war. 
	Vain was the chieftain’s might, in a moment had the snake 
	bent back his supple neck and foiled the coming blow. 
	The earth re-echoes and in the pathless woods the close-knit boughs 
565	are rent and torn. “But ever shalt thou escape my stroke, “ cries 
	Capaneus, and makes for him with ashen spear, “whether thou be 
	the savage inmate of the trembling grove, or a delight granted 
	to the gods – ay, would it were to the gods!42 – never even 
	if thou broughtest a Giant to battle with me upon those limbs.” 43 
570	The quivering spear flies, and enters the monster’s gaping 
	mouth and cleaves the rough fastenings of the triple tongue, 
	then through the upright crest and the adornment of his darting head 
	it issues forth, and fouled with the brain’s black gore sinks deep 
	into the soil. Scarce has the pain run the length of his whole 
575	frame, with lightning speed he twines his coils around 
	the weapon, and tears it out and carries it to his lair in the dark 
	temple of the god; there measuring his mighty bulk along the ground 
	he gasps and hisses out his life at his patron’s shrine. 
	
	Him did the sorrowing marsh of kindred Lerna mourn, 
580	and the Nymphs who were wont to strew him with vernal flowers, 
	and Nemea’s fields whereon he crawled; ye too, 
	ye woodland Fauns, bewailed him in every grove with broken reeds. 
	Jupiter himself had already called for his weapons from the 
	height of air, and long had clouds and storms been gathering, 
585	had not the god allayed his wrath and Capaneus been preserved 
	to merit a direr punishment; yet the wind of the stirred thunderbolt 
	sped and swayed the summit of his crested helm.
	
	And now the unhappy Lemnian, wandering o’er the fields 
	when the place was rid of the serpent, grows pale to behold 
590	on a low mound afar the herbage stained with streams of 
	blood. Thither frantic in her grief she hastens, and recognizing 
	the horror falls as though lightning-struck on the offending 
	earth, nor in the first shock of ruin can find speech or tears 
	to shed; she only bends and showers despairing kisses, 
595	and breathlessly searches the yet warm limbs for traces 
	of the vanished life. Nor face nor breast remain, the skin is torn away 
	and the frail bones are exposed to view, and the sinews are 
	drenched in fresh streams of blood: the whole body is one wound. 
	Even as when in a shady ilex-tree a lazy serpent has 
600	ravaged the home and brood of a mother bird, she, returning, 
	marvels at the quiet of her clamorous abode, and hovers 
	aghast, and in wild dismay drops from her mouth the food 
	she brings, for there is nought but blood on the tree 
	and feathers shed about the plundered nest.
	
605	When, poor woman, she had gathered the mangled limbs to her bosom 
	and covered them in her tresses, at length her voice released gave 
	passage to her grief and her moans melted into words: 
	“Archemorus, sweet image of my babes in my lonely plight, 
	solace of my woes and exile, and pride of my 
610	thraldom, what guilty gods have 
	slain thee, O my joy, whom, when I lately parted from thee, 
	I left frolicking and crushing the grasses in thy crawl? 
	Alas, where is that star-bright face? Where are thy half-formed 
	words and tongue-tied utterance, those smiles, and mutterings 
615	that I alone could understand? How often used I to talk to thee of Lemnos 
	and the Argo, with my long sad tale soothe thee to sleeping! 
	For so indeed did I console my griefs, and gave the babe 
	a mother’s breasts, where now in my bereavement the milk flows 
	in vain and falls in barren drops upon thy wounds. 
620	‘Tis the gods’ work, I see: O cruel presage of my dreams 
	and nightly terrors! ah! Venus, who never appeared in the darkness 
	to my startled vision but ill befell! But why do I blame the gods? 
	Myself I exposed thee to thy fate – for why should I fear to confess, 
	so soon to die? What madness carried me away? 
625	Could I so utterly forget a charge so dear? 
	While I recount the fortunes of my country and the boastful prelude 
	of my own renown – what true devotion, what loyalty! – 
	I have paid thee, Lemnos, the crime I owed. Take me then, ye princes, 
	to the deadly snake, if ye have any gratitude for the service that has cost so dear, 
630	or any respect to my words; or slay me yourselves with the sword, 
	lest I see again my sorrowing masters and bereaved Eurydice, 
	now made my foe44 – although my grief comes not short of hers. 
	Am I to carry this hapless burden and cast it on a 
	mother’s lap? nay, what earth may sooner engulf me in its 
635	deepest shades?” Thereupon, her face befouled with dust 
	and gore, she turns to follow the mighty chieftains, and secretly 
	as they grieve lays the waters to their charge.45
	
	And now the news, sweeping sudden though the palace of devout 
	Lycurgus, had brought full measure of tears to himself and all his house – 
640	himself, as he drew nigh from the sacred summit of Perseus’ 
	mountain,46 where he had offered sacrifice47 to the angry Thunderer, 
	and was shaking his head as he returned from the ill-omened entrails. 
	Here he abides without share in the Argolic war, 
	not lacking in courage, but the temples and the altars kept him back; 
645	nor had the gods’ response and ancient warning yet faded 
	from his mind, nor the words received from the innermost shrine: 
	“In the Dircaean war, Lycurgus, the first death shall be thine to give.” 
	Of that he is afraid, he is tortured at the trumpets’ 
	sound, and envies the doomed hosts.
	
650	But lo! – so the gods keep faith! – the daughter of Thoas 
	accompanies the mangled infant’s funeral train, and his mother comes 
	to meet her, leading a band of women and troops of mourners. 
	But not sluggish was the devotion of great-souled Lycurgus: 
	grief emboldened him, the father’s mad rage thrust back 
655	the tears, and with long strides he covers the fields that stay his wrath, 
	and cries aloud: “Where now is she, who recks little or is glad of 
	the shedding of my blood? Lives she? Then seize her, 
	comrades, and bring her speedily! I will make her insolence forget 
	all her tale of Lemnos and her father and her lies about a race 
660	divine!” He advanced and prepared to deal the death-blow, 
	his sword drawn in rage; but as he came, the Oeneian hero,48 
	quick to act, thrust his shield against his breast and barred the way, 
	with stern rebuke: “Abate thy fury, madman, whoe’er 
	thou art!” and Capaneus likewise and brave Hippomedon, 
665	with sword drawn back, and the Erymanthian, with levelled blade, 
	were there to succour, and the prince is dazzled by their flashing swords: 
	but on the other side the rustic bands protect their king. Between them Adrastus 
	in gentler mood and Amphiaraus, fearing the strife of kindred fillets,49 
	cry: “Not so, I pray you, unhand the sword! 
670	Our sires are of one blood, give not vent to rage! 
	Thou first disarm!” But Tydeus, his spirit not assuaged, 
	rejoins: “Daredst thou then slay upon the grave – 
	and in revenge for what a death! – 50 and before so many thankless 
	thousands the guide and preserver of the Inachian host, 
675	who was once a queen, and has Thoas for her sire and shining Euhan 
	for her ancestor? Is it too little for thy cowardice that, when on all sides 
	they folk are speeding to war, thou alone keepest peace among the 
	hurrying cavalcades? Keep it them, and let the Grecian 
	triumph find thee still groaning at this tomb.”
	
680	He spoke, and the other, now more controlled as anger ebbed, 
	replied: “Indeed I thought your troops were bound, not for the walls 
	of Thebes, but hither with hostile intent. 
	March on then to destroy, if kindred murder so delights you, 
	flesh first your arms at home, ay, and let impious fire – 
685	what indeed is not lawful? – devour Jove’s temple that but now I sought in vain, 
	if I thought, oppressed by bitter grief, that I had power upon 
	a worthless slave, who am her king and lord!51 
	But he ruler of the gods beholds it, yea he beholds it, and his wrath, 
	though late it fall, awaits your daring deeds.” So speaking he looks back 
690	toward the city. And lo! there another armed affray is raging from 
	house to house; recent Fame had outstripped the horsemen’s 
	flying squadrons, with twofold tumults gathered beneath her wings; 
	some repeat that Hypsipyle is being dragged to death, 
	some that she is even now meeting her fate, and is deserving of it: they believe, 
695	nor stay their anger, and already brands and javelins fly against the palace, 
	cries are raised to overturn the kingdom, and to seize and carry away 
	Lycurgus with Jove and all his shrines; the houses re-echo 
	with female shrieks, and routed grief flees before panic terror.
	
	But Adrastus, aloft upon his car of wing-footed steeds and bearing 
700	with him the daughter of Thoas in the sight of the raging warriors, 
	drives in amongst the ranks and cries: “Give o’er, give o’er; 
	no cruel deed has been done, nor has Lycurgus deserved 
	to perish thus, and lo! here is the discoverer of the welcome stream!” 
	So when with opposing blasts Boreas and Eurus from one quarter, 
705	and from another Auster black with rain has upheaved the sea, 
	when day is banished and the hurricanes hold sway, high on his chariot 
	comes the ruler of the deep, and twy-formed Triton swimming 
	by the foaming brides gives signal far and wide to the subsiding 
	main; Thetis is smooth again, and hills and shores emerge.
	
710	Which of the gods consoled her loss, and by granting 
	her heart’s desire brought joys unhoped-for to sad Hypsipyle 
	and recompense for tears? Thou, Euhan, author of her race, 
	who didst convey the twin youths52 from Lemnos’ shore 
	to Nemea, and wert preparing a wondrous destiny. 
715	In search of their mother they came, and not inhospitably 
	had the palace of Lycurgus given them entry, when forthwith came 
	that message to the monarch of his offspring’s piteous death. 
	Therefore hasten they to his support – so strange is Chance, so blind 
	the purpose of men! – and favour the king’s cause; but when “Lemnos” 
720	and “Thoas” reached their ears, straight had they rushed 
	through weapons and troops of men, and both with tears snatch 
	their mother to their greedy embrace and in turn press her to their bosoms. 
	But she, like a stony rock, with countenance unmoved 
	stirs not nor dares believe the gods she knows so well. 
725	But when she recognized their faces and the marks of Argo on their swords 
	the mariners had left and Jason’s name inwoven on their shoulders, 
	her grief was stayed, and overcome by so great a blessing 
	she swooned, and her eyes were moist with other tears. 
	Signs too were shown in heaven, and the drums and cymbals of the god 
730	and the glad huzzas of his wild train resounded through the echoing air.
	
	Then the devout Oeclides,53 so soon as wrath appeased made 
	the crowd fall silent, and there was approach to tranquil ears: 
	“Hearken, O ruler of Nemea and ye flower of Argive 
	princes, what Apollo surely reveals for us to do. 
735	Long hath this woe been ordained for you 
	at Argive hands, unwavering runs the line of Destiny.54 
	The drought of perished streams, the deadly serpent, 
	and the child Archemorus, whose name, alas, bears the seal 
	of our fate,55 all these events flow down and issue from the high purpose 
740	of the gods. A truce now to your passions, lay down your 
	hasty arms! To this infant enduring honours must be paid. 
	Truly he hath deserved them; let virtue make fair libation to 
	a virtuous soul, and would that thou mightest continue, O Phoebus, 
	to weave even more delays, would that new chances might ever bar us 
745	from the fray, and thou, O deadly Thebes, fade from our sight for ever! 
	And O ye happy ones, who have surpassed the common fate of noble 
	parents, whose name will long endure through the ages, 
	while Lerna’s lake remains and father Inachus flows on, 
	while Nemea throws the flickering shadows across her fields – 
750	profane not this holy rite by weeping, mourn not for the gods: 
	for a god is he, yea a god, nor would he prefer to enjoy 
	a Pylian age, nor a life that outlived the Phrygian span.” 56 
	He finished, and night wrapt the heaven in her enfolding shade.