In madness she sinned at the first, when she gave him the charm that should tame {1080}
The bulls; and with wrong to amend that wrong—ay, ofttimes the same
In our sinning we do!—she straightway essayed; and, shrinking in fear
From her proud sire’s tyrannous wrath, she fled. Now the man, as I hear,
This Jason, is bound by mighty oaths, which his own lips said,
When he pledged him to make her, his halls within, his wife true-wed.
Wherefore, beloved, constrain not Aison’s son to forswear
His oath, of thy will, nor consent that the sire from the daughter should tear
Her life in the rage of his soul amid pangs unendurably keen:
For cruelly jealous against their daughters are fathers, I ween.