And when they came near together and looked into each other’s eyes the heroes were awed before Aietes as he shone in his chariot, like his father the glorious Sun; for his robes were of rich gold tissue, and the rays of his diadem flashed fire, and in his hand he bore a jewelled scepter, which glittered like the stars; and sternly he looked at them under his brows, and sternly he spoke and loud: “Who are you, and what want you here, that you come to the shore of Cutaia? Do you take no account of my rule, nor of my people the Colchians who serve me, who never tired yet in the battle, and know well how to face an invader?” And the heroes sat silent before the face of that ancient king. But Juno the awful goddess put courage into Jason’s heart, and he rose and shouted loudly in answer, “We are no pirates nor lawless men. We come not to plunder and to ravage, or carry away slaves from your land; but my uncle the son of Neptune, Pelias the Minuan king, he it is who has set me on a quest to bring home the Golden Fleece. And these, too, my bold comrades, are no nameless men; for some are the sons of Immortals, and some of heroes far renowned. And we, too, never tire in battle, and know well how to give blows and to take: yet we wish to be guests at your table: it will be better so for both.” Then Aietes’ rage rushed up like a whirlwind, and his eyes flashed fire as he heard; but he crushed his anger down in his breast, and spoke mildly a cunning speech: “If you will fight for the fleece with my Colchians, then many a man must die. But do you indeed expect to win from me the fleece in fight? So few you are that if you be worsted I can load your ship with your corpses. But if you will be ruled by me, you will find it better far to choose the best man among you, and let him fulfil the labors which I demand. Then I will give him the Golden Fleece for a prize and a glory to you all.” So saying, he turned his horses and drove back in silence to the town. And the Minuai sat silent with sorrow, and longed for Hercules and his strength; for there was no facing the thousands of the Colchians and the fearful chance of war. But Chalciope, Phrixus’ widow, went weeping to the town; for she remembered her Minuan husband, and all the pleasures of her youth, while she watched the fair faces of his kinsmen, and their long locks of golden hair. And she whispered to Medea, her sister, “Why should all these brave men die? why does not my father give them up the fleece, that my husband’s spirit may have rest?” And Medea’s heart pitied the heroes, and Jason most of all; and she answered, “Our father is stern and terrible, and who can win the Golden Fleece?” But Chalciope said, “These men are not like our men; there is nothing which they cannot dare nor do.” And Medea thought of Jason and his brave countenance, and said, “If there was one among them who knew no fear, I could show him how to win the fleece.”