She spake and addressed Iphinoe close at hand: "Go, Iphinoe, and beg
yonder man, whoever it is that leads this array, to come to our land
that I may tell him a word that pleases the heart of my people, and bid
the men themselves, if they wish, boldly enter the land and the city
with friendly intent."

She spake, and dismissed the assembly, and thereafter started to return
home. And so Iphinoe came to the Minyae; and they asked with what intent
she had come among them. And quickly she addressed her questioners with
all speed in these words:

"The maiden Hypsipyle daughter of Thoas, sent me on my way here to you,
to summon the captain of your ship, whoever he be, that she may tell him
a word that pleases the heart of the people, and she bids yourselves, if
ye wish it, straightway enter the land and the city with friendly
intent."

Thus she spake and the speech of good omen pleased all. And they deemed
that Thoas was dead and that his beloved daughter Hypsipyle was queen,
and quickly they sent Jason on his way and themselves made ready to go.

Now he had buckled round his shoulders a purple mantle of double fold,
the work of the Tritonian goddess, which Pallas had given him when she
first laid the keel-props of the ship Argo and taught him how to measure
timbers with the rule. More easily wouldst thou cast thy eyes upon the
sun at its rising than behold that blazing splendour. For indeed in the
middle the fashion thereof was red, but at the ends it was all purple,
and on each margin many separate devices had been skilfully inwoven.

In it were the Cyclops seated at their imperishable work, forging a
thunderbolt for King Zeus; by now it was almost finished in its
brightness and still it wanted but one ray, which they were beating out
with their iron hammers as it spurted forth a breath of raging flame.

In it too were the twin sons of Antiope, daughter of Asopus, Amphion and
Zethus, and Thebe still ungirt with towers was lying near, whose
foundations they were just then laying in eager haste. Zethus on his
shoulders was lifting the peak of a steep mountain, like a man toiling
hard, and Amphion after him, singing loud and clear on his golden lyre,
moved on, and a rock twice as large followed his footsteps.

Next in order had been wrought Cytherea with drooping tresses, wielding
the swift shield of Ares; and from her shoulder to her left arm the
fastening of her tunic was loosed beneath her breast; and opposite in
the