the Colchis people buried
women, but hung dead men from the branches of trees. Then they came to
the palace, where King Aetes lived, with his young son Absyrtus, and his
daughter Chalciope, who had been the wife of Phrixus, and his younger
daughter, Medea, who was a witch, and the priestess of Brimo, a dreadful
goddess. Now Chalciope came out and welcomed Jason, for she knew the
heroes were of her dear husband's country. And beautiful Medea, the dark
witch-girl, came forth and saw Jason, and as soon as she saw him she
loved him more than her father and her brother and all her father's
house. For his bearing was gallant, and his armour golden, and long
yellow hair fell over his shoulders, and over the leopard skin that he
wore above his armour. Medea turned white and then red, and cast down
her eyes, but Chalciope took the heroes to the baths, and gave them
food, and they were brought to Aetes, who asked them why they came, and
they told him that they desired the Fleece of Gold, and he was very
angry, and told them that only to a better man than himself would he
give up that Fleece. If any wished to prove himself worthy of it he must
tame two bulls which breathed flame from their nostrils, and must plough
four acres with these bulls, and next he must sow the field with the
teeth of a dragon, and these teeth when sown would immediately grow up
into armed men. Jason said that, as it must be, he would try this
adventure, but he went sadly enough back to the ship and did not notice
how kindly Medea was looking after him as he went.

Now, in the dead of night, Medea could not sleep, because she was so
sorry for the stranger, and she knew that she could help him by her
magic. But she remembered how her father would burn her for a witch if
she helped Jason, and a great shame, too, came on her that she should
prefer a stranger to her own people. So she arose in the dark, and stole
just as she was to her sister's room, a white figure roaming like a
ghost in the palace. At her sister's door she turned back in shame,
saying, 'No, I will never do it,' and she went back again to her
chamber, and came again, and knew not what to do; but at last she
returned to her own bower, and threw herself on her bed, and wept. Her
sister heard her weeping, and came to her and they cried together, but
softly, that no one might hear them. For Chalciope was as eager to help
the Greeks for love of Phrixus, her dead husband, as Medea was for the
love o