"Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason," observed the king; "you appear
to have spent a sleepless night. I hope you have been considering the
matter a little more wisely, and have concluded not to get yourself
scorched to a cinder, in attempting to tame my brazen-lunged bulls."
"That is already accomplished, may it please your majesty," replied
Jason. "The bulls have been tamed and yoked; the field has been
ploughed; the dragon's teeth have been sown broadcast, and harrowed
into the soil; the crop of armed warriors have sprung up, and they have
slain one another, to the last man. And now I solicit your majesty's
permission to encounter the dragon, that I may take down the Golden
Fleece from the tree, and depart, with my nine and forty comrades."
King Æetes scowled, and looked very angry and excessively disturbed;
for he knew that, in accordance with his kingly promise, he ought now
to permit Jason to win the fleece, if his courage and skill should
enable him to do so. But, since the young man had met with such good
luck in the matter of the brazen bulls and the dragon's teeth, the
king feared that he would be equally successful in slaying the dragon.
And therefore, though he would gladly have seen Jason snapped up at a
mouthful, he was resolved (and it was a very wrong thing of this wicked
potentate) not to run any further risk of losing his beloved fleece.
"You never would have succeeded in this business, young man," said
he, "if my undutiful daughter Medea had not helped you with her
enchantments. Had you acted fairly, you would have been, at this
instant, a black cinder, or a handful of white ashes. I forbid you, on
pain of death, to make any more attempts to get the Golden Fleece. To
speak my mind plainly, you shall never set eyes on so much as one of
its glistening locks."
Jason left the king's presence in great sorrow and anger. He could
think of nothing better to be done than to summon together his
forty-nine brave Argonauts, march at once to the grove of Mars, slay
the dragon, take possession of the Golden Fleece, get on board the
_Argo_, and spread all sail for Iolchos. The success of this scheme
depended, it is true, on the doubtful point whether all the fifty
heroes might not be snapped up, at so many mouthfuls, by the dragon.
But, as Jason was hastening down the palace steps, the Princess Medea
called after him, and beckoned him to return. Her black eyes shone
upon him with such a keen intelligence, that he felt as if there were
a serpent peeping out of them; and, although she had done him so much
service only the night before, he was by no means very certain that
she would not do him an equally great mischief before sunset. These
enchantresses, you must know, are never to be depended upon.
"What says King Æetes, my royal and upright father?" inquired Medea,
slightly smiling. "Will he give you the Golden Fleece, without any
further risk or trouble?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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