Divine figures like Calliste and the Nymphs are said to speak graciously throughout the Argonautica, but the narrator is generally less concerned to convey their technical knowledge of oratory than a general impression of rhetorical loveliness. Strictly speaking, divine figures make pronouncements: their speeches are designed to inform rather than to persuade their hearers to adopt a particular course of action. For that matter, Apollonius does not typically depict characters being won over by grief or social pressure, as we find in Homeric epic, although they are sensitive to promises of fair exchange during formal negotiations. There are textbook examples of oratorical skill, however, such as Polyxo’s demegoric speech during the Assembly of the women of Lemnos. Previously, in a collective fit of jealousy they have killed all the men on their island, and the arrival of the Argonauts now throws them into confusion. The Lemnian queen, Hypsipyle, urges (epotrunousa, 1.656) the Assembly to send gifts to the visitors, but cautions that it would be best to keep them outside the walls lest they discover the murder and spread the report abroad (1.657-666). She then opens the floor to alternate proposals. Polyxo, Hypsipyle’s aged nurse, does not waste time rebutting her suggestion but offers a different solution. The Lemnian women have no plan for defense against foreign invaders, she observes, and there is no younger generation to bring in the harvest once they grow old (1.675-696). Instead of keeping the Argonauts out, it would be better to shower them with gifts, as Hypsi-pyle advises, and to welcome them into the city. Her argument is wise, concise, and utterly persuasive, presenting only the facts of their situation.23 Though her manner of speaking is labored (1.673-674), and her words are not said to be honey-sweet, her audience is won over by her foresight.
More often than not, however, characters in the Argonautica are beguiled by soft and gentle voices in much the same way as they are seduced by visual beauty or by that which is precious and richly made. Such extreme beauty is likely to be dangerous, as when Jason and Medea lure her half-brother Apsyrtus into ambush with the intoxicating gift of Dionysus’ robe, but in contrast to the Odyssey., where seductive charm is predominantly associated with the alien and monstrously exotic, like the Sirens and the Lotus-Eaters, it has now been added to the new heroic panoply. The strategic alliance between honey-sweet words and erotic schemes and deception is certainly a natural one, but love is shown to be unpredictable in the Argonautica and its cunning devices can be as unreliable as the physical force of Heracles. Jason accordingly tries to control Medea by fawning on her (hupossainOn, 3.974; cf. 4.410) and by misleading her and taking advantage of her ignorance. Many readers have been particularly troubled by Jason’s manipulative comment that Medea, if she helps him, will be admired like her celebrated cousin Ariadne, who helped Theseus defeat the Minotaur. Ariadne may be beloved by the gods and she may even have a constellation named for her, as he says (3.997-1007), but what he fails to mention is that after she helped Theseus she was promptly abandoned on an island. Since anyone familiar with Euripides’ famous play knows that Jason will eventually leave Medea in Corinth, it is difficult to avoid the assumption that the hero planned from the start to use her just as Theseus used Ariadne.
The issues raised by Jason’s ambiguous intentions in the Ariadne speech cannot be addressed in full here, but we should take note of the fact that false speeches in the Argonautica are usually made quite obvious to the reader, inasmuch as the narrator customarily points out deception during dialogue. So, for example, when Jason seeks to test the Argonauts’ resolve, in a scene modeled on Agamemnon’s testing of the Achaeans in Iliad 2, he addresses the helmsman Tiphys with meilichioisi epeessi, but the narrator qualifies this address by noting that Jason speaks ‘sideways’ (parablOdOn, 2.621), disguising his true intentions, in contrast to his straightforward conversations with Medea and Alcimede. The narrator also makes it clear that Hypsipyle, the queen of the Lemnian women, is lying to Jason about the absence of men on their island. She welcomes him with ‘wheedling words’ (muthoisi... haimulioisi, 1.792) that discreetly revise the Lemnians’ violent history, managing to cover up mass murder (amaldunousa phonou telos, 1.834), but here too Jason responds to her by speaking ‘sideways’ (parableden, 1.835), as though he suspects her game and is playing along with it.24
The paradigmatic example of such deceptive and ‘wheedling words’ (haimulioi logoi) in epic is found also in Hesiod’s Theogony (see J. Strauss Clay, Chapter 29). In this episode Zeus uses haimulioisi logoisi to seduce and ambush Metis, the incarnation of cunning and resourcefulness, in order to swallow her and prevent the birth of a son (Theogony 860). But as Clay explains in these pages, while wheedling words bend the truth in a persuasive fashion, they do not twist it in an unjust manner (p. 449). Thus the deception implied in such speech is of a lesser order than flagrant injustice. It turns out that there are degrees of falsehood, in the Argonautica as in the Theogony, and Apollonius seems to be principally concerned with the advantage to be gained by minor alterations of the truth, or even the humor that such alterations may produce. When Hera and Athena at last arrive in Aphrodite’s bedchamber, she greets them with ‘wheedling words’ (haimulioisin, 3.51), gently teasing these preeminent goddesses who so rarely come to call.
Throughout the Argonautica acts of persuasion are accordingly staged both in private, intimate settings, and in more public, political contexts. Fawning or wheedling speeches need not necessarily be understood as malicious; rather, like honey-sweet words, they represent a vital component of persuasive speech. Nevertheless, for all his charm and elegance Jason will be unable to talk Aietes into relinquishing the Golden Fleece. Indeed, Aietes’ obstinacy creates the very type of political crisis that Hellenistic handbooks of rhetoric sought to forestall, namely, the failure of rhetoric during a formal council with a powerful autocrat. In On Style, for example, Demetrius offers advice to his readers on addressing and censuring tyrants or other overbearing ( biaion, 289) leaders by means of equivocating {epamphoterizousin, 291) or allusive indirection {eschematismenos, 293). In truth, the fault lies less with Jason than with Aietes himself since, as Hera observes, he is an arrogant {huperphialos, 3.15) tyrant, one who cannot be influenced by epeessi meilichiois (3.14-15). Indeed, the suspicious Aietes represents the very opposite of the ideal ruler who is described in the salutation that begins the Rhetoric to Alexander, a rhetorical treatise by Anaximenes that is framed as a letter purportedly sent by Aristotle to Alexander the Great.25 The treatise begins by explaining that Alexander must study rhetoric because monarchs rule not by nomos, a systematic code of customary precedents, but by logos or their own ability to persuade others {1420a5). If Jason fails to sway Aietes, it is also certain that Aietes makes no attempt to persuade Jason either: he simply forces him to accept an impossible challenge.26
In the course of their journeys the Argonauts encounter a number of rulers, most good, but others less so: Aietes, for one, and the Bebrycian king Amycus for another. These two are portrayed as inflexible, suspicious, xenophobic, and aggressive - particularly Amycus, who compels all visitors to his country to fight with him {Book 2). By contrast, good rulers like Lycus, king of the Mariandy-nians, and Alcinous, king of the Phaeacians, extend hospitality to the Argonauts and quickly offer aid and support to their guests. Lycus, delighted at the Argonauts’ defeat of Amycus, his bitter enemy, greets them with a pact of friendship {arthmon ethento, 2.755) and sends his son Dascylus along with them as a diplomatic envoy to ensure the hospitality of the lands as far as the River Thermo-don {2.803-805). Alcinous similarly welcomes the Argonauts as though they were his own kin {3.994-997), and his diplomatic intervention proves invaluable in the reconciliation of the Argonauts’ conflict with the Colchians. In effect, both Lycus and Alcinous represent the positive formulation of kingship as it is described in the Rhetoric to Alexander.
It is not difficult to see that Aietes fails to live up to the standards of diplomacy and rhetorical skill that are established by these other kings. But in order to understand exactly how the poet constructs the failure of the Argonauts’ embassy, we will need to consider it more closely. Jason enters the palace of Aietes together with the Sons of Phrixus and two Argonauts, Telamon and Augeas. Chalciope is overjoyed and welcomes her returning sons as Medea, struck by Eros’ arrow, catches sight of Jason for the first time. Aietes then enters the hall and interrogates Argus about the accident that has apparently forced them to return. He claims that he had warned them about the dangers of the voyage, but abruptly breaks off {‘But what’s the good of talking?’, 3.314)27 to ask them what has happened, who these men are, and where their boat is. Already fearful {hupoddeisas, 3.318) on Jason’s behalf, Argus gently {meilichios, 3.319) explains that their ship was lost in a storm, but they were rescued by the Argonauts, who were forced to sail to Colchis in order to recover the Golden Fleece and to appease the wrath of Zeus for the attempted murder of Phrixus. This explanation for the voyage differs from those we have heard before, but Argus evidently hopes it will justify the Argonauts’ presence to Aietes, who generally respects Zeus, albeit somewhat grudgingly.28 Argus then points out that in exchange for the Fleece, the Argonauts will subjugate Aietes’ enemies, the Sarmatians, and ends his proposal by introducing Jason, Telamon, and Augeas and indeed all the Argonauts as the sons and grandsons of gods {3.365-366).29
Argus is off to a good start here, but Aietes flies into a towering rage. He accuses Argus of lying, dishonoring the gods, and plotting to seize the throne, and declares that only his respect for the laws of hospitality prevents him from cutting off their hands and their tongues (3.377-381). Aietes’ brutal scorn infuriates Telamon, who burns to threaten him with violence (oloon phasthai epos, 3.384), but Jason restrains him, keeps his head, and gently replies (ameipsato meilixioisin, 3.385) that they have no such plans as Aietes suspects, and indeed have come under divine compulsion and at the command of a presumptuous king. He then reiterates what Argus has already said about their desire to bring Aietes’ enemies under his control, and adds that if he helps them, his suppliants, he will personally spread his divine renown throughout all of Greece (3.386-395). Jason thus offers Aietes an opening, the opportunity to play the role of the good king in contrast to the presumptuous one (Pelias) who has placed such a cruel demand on them. The narrator notes also that Jason speaks ‘with a smile and a kindly voice’ (hupossainon aganei opi, 3.396).
A heroic performance indeed, and one that might have won even Heracles over, but all it encourages Aietes to do is debate inwardly whether to kill Jason on the spot or to make trial of his strength.30 The latter seems to him the better course, so he challenges Jason, speaking, as the narrator points out, in an underhanded, deceptive way (hupobledon, 3.400). He will give the Argonauts the Fleece and accept them as the sons of gods, he says, if one of them proves equal to a labor that he himself performs: yoking a team of fire-breathing bulls to plough the field of Ares and sow the teeth of Cadmus’ dragon, and then harvesting a ready crop of earthborn warriors - all within the span of a single day. For, he concludes, it would be unseemly (aeikes, 3.420) for a better man to yield to his inferior (3.401-421).
Now it is Jason’s turn to sit in silence (siga), his eyes fixed on his feet, speechless (aphthongos, 3.423) and unwilling to accept this trial. A hero like Telamon would probably have volunteered instantly, out of pride, but Jason, as we have seen, is given to deliberation, and to framing his responses in advance. At length he makes a shrewd (kerdaleoisin, 3.426) reply, agreeing that the king is within his rights to make the request, and agreeing also that he will hazard the labor, though it is extreme, and though he is likely to die. He then concludes with a general observation about the harshness of the cruel necessity that drove him here at a king’s command (3.427-331). Jason’s response is shrewd both because it does not pointlessly antagonize the king further, and because it buys him time to secure the means of accomplishing the labor.
For his part, Aietes fully expects that the bulls will tear to pieces the Greek champion, whoever he turns out to be (3.579-380), after which he intends to ambush the rest of the crew and burn them alive in their ship (3.581-383). He thus dismisses Jason, thoughtlessly (apelegeos, 3.439) and with a terrible threat (smerdaleois epeessi, 3.434-438):
Go now, and rejoin your company, since you long, at least, for battle.
But if you are afraid to yoke the bulls
Or if you shrink from the bitter harvest
Then it would be my concern to ensure, in every detail,
That any other man would shrink from pursuing a greater hero than he.
That is, he will punish Jason’s arrogance in asking for a prize that he has not won in heroic combat. But the truth is simply that Aietes is unjust and given to brutality. The use of the adjective smerdaleos (‘terrible’) to describe this speech is arresting for several reasons. The term is also used to describe Aietes’ terrible war cry, the equal of Ares’ own (2.1205-1206), as well as Peleus’ cry of horror when he sees Thetis dipping the infant Achilles in fire (4.875). Both of these instances evoke the meaning that Apollonius typically reserves for smerdaleos. it connotes the supernatural, such as Jason’s strength (alke) after he applies Medea’s magic salve to his body (3.1257), and especially the monstrous, such as the serpents of Hecate (3.1215), the dragon that guards the Golden Fleece (4.154), the Furies (4.714), or the jaws of Scylla (4.830).31 It is not surprising to find that none of Aietes’ speeches is described as meilichios, as so many speeches are throughout the poem, but we might not have expected such an extreme contrast between the king’s monstrous discourse and Jason’s characteristically gentle and restrained counsel.
In the end, it seems that Jason’s rhetoric has not really failed him. Although he has not been able to charm Aietes into exchanging the Golden Fleece for a political alliance, he has succeeded on two counts. First, he has kept the combustive tempers of Aietes and Telamon from exploding into violence, and second, he has actually persuaded the enraged Aietes to come to terms, even if these are not the terms he himself would have chosen. It was Argus who unfortunately and unintentionally enraged Aietes by introducing the Argonauts as demigods. Argus meant only to present them in the best possible light, as men of good character,32 but he inadvertently wounded the pride of the king, himself the son of a god (Helios) and exceedingly hostile to the thought that these pirates, as he regards the Argonauts, could rival him in any way. He is, as the Phaeacian king Alcinous later remarks, ‘the kingliest of kings’ (basileuteros, 4.1102), and resents any comparison with those he considers to be lesser men. Such volatility is a common failing of those who rule, according to Aristotle, who cautions that kings are easily vexed because of their high standing (Rhet. 1379a), and cites several Homeric passages, noting that the depth of royal resentment can be extreme (kotos, Iliad 1.82), for ‘great is the wrath (thumos) of those kings who are cherished by Zeus’ (Iliad 2.196).
The voyage of the Argo maps the territory dominated by such kings in an ancient mythical age onto lands newly conquered and contested in the war-torn age of the Hellenistic dynasts. The Argonautica’s association of justice with peace-loving, phi-loxenic piety does not simply counter the combative heroism of traditional epic; rather, it infuses it with a distillation of Ptolemaic ideology. The poem therefore celebrates the martial heroism of leaders like Alcinous and Jason to a lesser extent than it does their diplomacy and pious respect for the gods. Inscribed in Jason’s honeyed words we find the virtues celebrated in this era as well as its fascination with the power of speech as it is portrayed in the final scene on his cloak (1.763-767).
There too was Phrixus the Minyan, who seemed
To be listening to the ram, and it in turn appeared to be speaking.
Looking at them you would be silent and beguile your own heart
Hoping to hear from them some well-formed
Word, and long in this hope you would gaze.