prophecy, they rejoiced in their return, but sorrow seized them at Idmon’s fate. And at the time when the sun passes midday, and the fields are just filling with shadows from the peaks as the sun inclines beneath the evening darkness, at that time all the men had already spread thick couches of leaves on the sand and were reclining side by side along the gray strand. Beside them lay great quantities of food and sweet wine, which cupbearers had drawn off in jugs. Afterwards, they told stories to one another in turn, of the kind young men often tell as they enjoy themselves pleasantly over a meal and wine, when unbridled rudeness is absent. But at that time, Jason, all helpless, was pondering every concern within himself, like a man in despair. And then Idas spied him and chided him in a loud voice:

“Jason, what is this plan you are turning over in your mind? Declare your thoughts in our midst. Is it fear, the thing that terrifies cowardly men, which assaults and overwhelms you? Let my witness now be this raging spear, with which I win more glory in battles than any other men—nor does Zeus aid me as much as my own spear—that no calamity will be fatal nor any task unaccomplished with Idas on hand, even if a god should stand in the way. Such an ally am I that you are bringing from Arene.”

Thus he spoke and, grasping a full cup in both hands, drank the sweet, unmixed wine, and his lips and dark beard were drenched with it. All the men together raised a clamor, but Idmon even spoke out openly: