ain, and the
furrows ran with their dark blood as channels run with water in
springtime.

The Argonauts shouted loudly for Jason's victory. King AEetes rose from
his seat that was beside the river and he went back to the city. The
Colchians followed him. Day faded, and Jason's contest was ended.

But it was not the will of AEetes that the strangers should be let
depart peaceably with the Golden Fleece that Jason had won. In the
assembly place, with his son Apsyrtus beside him, and with the furious
Colchians all around him, the king stood: on his breast was the
gleaming corselet that Ares had given him, and on his head was that
golden helmet with its four plumes that made him look as if he were
truly the son of Helios, the Sun. Lightnings flashed from his great
eyes; he spoke fiercely to the Colchians, holding in his hand his
bronze-topped spear.

He would have them attack the strangers and burn the Argo. He would
have the sons of Phrixus slain for bringing them to Aea. There was a
prophecy, he declared, that would have him be watchful of the treachery
of his own offspring: this prophecy was being fulfilled by the children
of Chalciope; he feared, too, that his daughter, Medea, had aided the
strangers. So the king spoke, and the Colchians, hating all strangers,
shouted around him.

Word of what her father had said was brought to Medea. She knew that
she would have to go to the Argonauts and bid them flee hastily from
Aea. They would not go, she knew, without the Golden Fleece; then she,
Medea, would have to show them how to gain the Fleece.

Then she could never again go back to her father's palace, she could
never again sit in this chamber and talk to her handmaidens, and be
with Chalciope, her sister. Forever afterward she would be dependent on
the kindness of strangers. Medea wept when she thought of all this. And
then she cut off a tress of her hair and she left it in her chamber as
a farewell from one who was going afar. Into the chamber where
Chalciope was she whispered farewell.

The palace doors were all heavily bolted, but Medea did not have to
pull back the bolts. As she chanted her Magic Song the bolts softly
drew back, the doors softly opened. Swiftly she went along the ways
that led to the river. She came to where fires were blazing and she
knew that the Argonauts were there.

She called to them, and Phrontis, Chalciope's son, heard the cry and
knew the voice. To Jason he spoke, and Jason quickly we