"And now," cried he, as he stood gazing at the calm, majestic face of
the statue, "I must go to the Talking Oak, and inquire what next to do."
"There is no need of that, Jason," said a voice which, though it was
far lower, reminded him of the mighty tones of the great oak. "When you
desire good advice, you can seek it of me."
Jason had been looking straight into the face of the image when these
words were spoken. But he could hardly believe either his ears or his
eyes. The truth was, however, that the oaken lips had moved, and,
to all appearance, the voice had proceeded from the statue's mouth.
Recovering a little from his surprise, Jason bethought himself that the
image had been carved out of the wood of the Talking Oak, and that,
therefore, it was really no great wonder, but, on the contrary, the
most natural thing in the world, that it should possess the faculty
of speech. It would have been very odd, indeed, if it had not. But
certainly it was a great piece of good fortune that he should be able
to carry so wise a block of wood along with him in his perilous voyage.
"Tell me, wonderous image," exclaimed Jason,--"since you inherit the
wisdom of the Speaking Oak of Dodona, whose daughter you are,--tell me,
where shall I find fifty bold youths, who will take each of them an oar
of my galley? They must have sturdy arms to row, and brave hearts to
encounter perils, or we shall never win the Golden Fleece."
"Go," replied the oaken image, "go, summon all the heroes of Greece."
And, in fact, considering what a great deed was to be done, could any
advice be wiser than this which Jason received from the figure head of
his vessel? He lost no time in sending messages to all the cities, and
making known to the whole people of Greece, that Prince Jason, the son
of King Æson, was going in quest of the Fleece of Gold, and that he
desired the help of forty-nine of the bravest and strongest young men
alive, to row his vessel and share his dangers. And Jason himself would
be the fiftieth.
At this news, the adventurous youths, all over the country, began to
bestir themselves. Some of them had already fought with giants, and
slain dragons; and the younger ones, who had not yet met with such
good fortune, thought it a shame to have lived so long without getting
astride of a flying serpent, or sticking their spears into a Chimæra,
or, at least, thrusting their right arms down a monstrous lion's
throat. There was a fair prospect that they would meet with plenty of
such adventures before finding the Golden Fleece. As soon as they could
furbish up their helmets and shields, therefore, and gird on their
trusty swords, they came thronging to Iolchos, and clambered on board
the new galley. Shaking hands with Jason, they assured him that they
did not care a pin for their lives, but would help row the vessel to
the remotest edge of the world, and as much farther as he might think
it best to go.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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