And a scent ambrosial breathed therefrom, since that sweet tide {430}
When the King Nysaian himself thereon lay down to rest,
With wine and with nectar flushed, lay clasping the beauteous breast
Of the maiden the daughter of Minos, who sailed from the Knossian land
With Theseus, and there was forsaken of him upon Dia’s strand.
And Medea wrought on the heralds—for subtlest speech did she frame
To beguile them—when unto the Goddess’s temple Absyrtus came
For the covenant’s sake, and when night’s black pall should around them be rolled,
To depart, that with him she might plot to take that Fleece of Gold
From the heroes, and bearing the prize with him to fare again