But Chalciope, Phrixus's 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 Medeia 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 Medeia'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 Medeia 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."
So in the dusk of evening they went down to the riverside, Chalciope and
Medeia the witch maiden, and Argus, Phrixus's son. And Argus the boy
crept forward, among the beds of reeds, till he came where the heroes
were sleeping, on the thwarts of the ship, beneath the bank, while Jason
kept ward on shore, and leant upon his lance full of thought. And the
boy came to Jason, and said:
"I am the son of Phrixus, your cousin; and Chalciope my mother waits for
you, to talk about the golden fleece."
Then Jason went boldly with the boy, and found the two princesses
standing; and when Chalciope saw him she wept, and took his hands, and
cried:
"O cousin of my beloved, go home before you die!"
"It would be base to go home now, fair princess, and to have sailed all
these seas in vain.
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