"Two bulls in Mars's field your wonder claim, Their hoofs of brass, their nostrils breathing flame. These oft I seize, and to the yoke constrain To plough four acres of the stubborn plain. No seeds I sow, but scatter over the land A dragon's teeth; when, lo! an armed band Of chiefs spring up: but soon as they appear, I slay the embattled squadrons with my spear. Each morn I yoke the bulls, at eve resign: Perform this labour, and the fleece is thine."
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Lines 446–455; Aeëtes' challenge to Jason.
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The Argonautics of Apollonius Rhodius (tr. Francis Fawkes)
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