The Golden Fleece

by Robert Graves

  Jason held out his hand. ‘This is a strange meeting. I have treated you as kindly as though you were my own kinsmen, and kinsmen you now prove to be! You and I are cousins-german. Your grandfather Athamas and my grandfather Cretheus were brothers. And you have other cousins among us (I will explain their genealogy later) – Periclymenus and Melampus of Pylos, Admetus of Pherae, Idas and Lynceus of Arene, and Acastus of Iolcos.’

  Phrontis, grasping his hand, asked: ‘How comes it that you are here on this beach? Have not the Trojans closed the straits against any Greeks wishing to trade here in the Black Sea? They undertook to do so. Our grandfather Aeëtes is an ally of Laömedon, the Trojan King, and has undertaken to help him with ships and men to implement this policy; for, though a Greek himself, he says that the Greeks invariably bring trouble wherever they go. The Amazons, I hear, have made Laömedon a similar undertaking, declaring that the Greeks are too quick with their weapons and too slow with their gifts. There are, by the way, three Thessalian brothers living at Sinope among the Paphlagonians who have brought the Greek name into dishonour: they have the reputation of being out-and-out rogues and skinflints.’

  When Jason pressed him for further information about these three brothers, Phrontis answered: ‘I have never met them myself, but one of them, Autolycus, is the worst thief in the whole of Asia; according to the Trojans he would steal a man’s nose off his face while he slept, or the tripod from under a priestess while she was prophesying. But the Trojans dare not carry these brothers off and put them to death, for the Paphlagonians are deceived into thinking them wonderful men and benefactors of the country and would show their resentment by closing the southern trade route from the East.’

  Autolycus said, smiling: ‘Never believe what the crooked Trojans tell you, noble Phrontis. Believe the simple Paphlagonians, on whom I and my two brothers have indeed conferred substantial benefits. And do not guard your noses too vigilantly while you sleep; for I swear to you that I will not lay my hands on them, so long as you do not lay your hands on ours. That is what I have always told the Trojans.’

  The whole company laughed at this sally, and Phrontis apologized to Autolycus and his brothers, declaring that if they were indeed the three Thessalians in question, their kindly and frank countenances were in themselves a refutation of the slanders put out against them by their rivals in trade. The brothers granted him their pardon generously, saying that any complaint made against them by the jealous Trojans sounded sweetly in their ears.

  Then Jason said: ‘Phrontis, these three good Thessalians have come aboard our ship, after settling all their affairs at Sinope, because the glory of our divine quest has fired their hearts with a longing to share it.’

  ‘Indeed?’ said Phrontis, relieved to change the subject of the conversation. ‘And what, may I ask, is your divine quest?’

  Jason answered: ‘I will tell you in close confidence: it is to win back the Golden Fleece from King Aeëtes and restore it to the shrine of Laphystian Zeus, to the image from which your father long ago boldly removed it. This is a quest in which you and your brothers should feel the deepest concern; and if you help us to accomplish it, we can promise that your claim to the lands of Athamas will be favourably considered by the rulers of Boeotia, and that the present occupants will be extruded. You must understand that the good luck of the Minyan clan hangs upon the recovery of the Fleece – I believe, indeed, that it was the Triple Goddess herself who cast you upon this shore.’

  Phrontis said: ‘Your words sound wild and strange to our ears. Our grandfather King Aeëtes will never give up the Fleece willingly, and he commands not only an army of five thousand men but a fleet of thirty swift galleys, each the equal of yours in size; which, if you succeed in seizing the Fleece by a sudden raid, will pursue and overtake you as sure as Fate. Let me warn you, before I go further, that two brazen bulls are set up in the inner hall of our grandfather’s palace. They are made after the model of the bull that Daedalus presented to the priestess of Cretan Pasiphaë, but they are dedicated to the savage war god of the Taurians. When our grandfather has caught you he will enclose you, two by two, in the bellies of these bulls and light a sacrificial fire underneath which will roast you to death. Your shouts and yells will issue as roars from the mouths of the bulls and cause him infinite pleasure. And tell me, Cousin, how in the world do you suppose that the Triple Goddess, whom we worship in Colchis as The Bird-headed Mother or The Ineffable One, can favour your rash attempt to undo her work? Why should she consent to restore the Fleece to the rebellious son from whom she filched it?’

  Jason answered: ‘The great Olympian Deities – Zeus, Poseidon Apollo, Athena, and Artemis – have all personally blessed this enterprise, which is by no means so difficult as many others which you know to have been successfully accomplished. When, for example, Hercules of Tiryns was sent by King Eurystheus of Mycenae to win the girdle of Queen Hippolyte of the Amazons –’

  Here Melanion and Cytissorus interrupted: ‘O yes, we have all heard of Hercules, the great Tirynthian. Had Hercules come with you, that would perhaps be a different matter. Even our grandfather Aeëtes fears him.’

  Jason said: ‘Then let me tell you, and I will confirm this with an oath, if you please, that Hercules is a member of this expedition. If you look in the locker under the bench nearest to the stern you will find some of his possessions, including a helmet the size of a cauldron and a gigantic pair of leather breeches. He disembarked a few stages up the coast on some private business of his own and we fully expect him to overtake us before long, probably in a ship supplied by his friends the Mariandynians. But we do not esteem ourselves less courageous than Hercules, and intend to prosecute our task without him, if he is long delayed. As for the Triple Goddess, we are all sincerely devoted to her, and at Samothrace were initiated into her purest rites. She has given her assent to this expedition and benefited us with the most favourable winds procurable. May I die instantly if I do not speak the truth about her!’

  ‘But what can be her interest in your recovery of the Fleece?’ asked Phrontis.

  ‘I do not say that she is interested in it,’ replied Jason. ‘But at least she does not oppose our quest, for she has a mission of her own for us to perform in Colchis. She wishes us to set at rest the ghost of your father, Phrixus.’

  ‘Indeed?’ cried Phrontis. ‘I had no idea that he was not at rest. The Colchians gave him a splendid funeral.’

  Jason was puzzled. ‘I understood that his body was unburied,’ he faltered.

  ‘Unburied it is,’ said Phrontis. ‘We never bury men in Colchis, but only women. Burial of men is forbidden by the Colchian religion, and though King Aeëtes asked permission from his Council of State for our father to be burned on a pyre and interred in the Greek fashion, the Colchian priests refused this, and he did not press the matter. The Sun God is worshipped here, as well as the Triple Goddess, and fire is therefore sacred. Male corpses may not be burned, lest the fire be tainted; nor may they be buried in the earth, which is equally sacred. The Colchian practice, therefore, is to wrap male corpses in untanned ox-hides and hang them from the tops of trees for the birds to feed upon. Our father’s body was hung with great reverence and solemnity from the highest branch of the highest tree in the entire river-valley, a gigantic poplar and none of us has ever been troubled by any appearance of his ghost.’

  ‘Is it true that the Fleece hangs in the grove of the hero Prometheus, who is here worshipped as a war god?’ asked Jason.

  Phrontis replied: ‘The story has come to you in a confused version. The Fleece is dedicated in the oracular shrine of Prometheus, not far from the city of Aea, where he is worshipped as a hero, not as a god. I will explain how the war god comes into the story. When, twenty-five years ago, our grandfather Aeëtes married the daughter of the King of the Crimea, a Taurian, and concluded a military alliance with him, she brought her Taurian bodyguard to Aea. In compliment to her and to his father-in-law, our grandfather awarded the fore-part of the hero�
��s high-walled enclosure to the Taurian war god, reserving the hinder part for the hero’s use. Thus, in order to penetrate to the place where the Fleece is hanging, one must pass the scrutiny of a collegeful of armed Taurian priests, who keep watch day and night over the stalls of their sacred bulls. Aeëtes made this award at a time when he feared that Greek raiders might attempt to steal the Fleece. By his Colchian Queen he has a daughter, the Princess Medea, who is now the priestess of Prometheus and feeds the enormous serpent in which the hero is incarnated. This is a python of the Indian variety which kills its prey, whether beast or bird, by first fascinating it with a baleful, unsleeping eye and then crushing it to death in its cold coils. Prometheus resents the presence in his enclosure of anyone at all but the Princess Medea, who sings ancient charms to keep him quiet. No woman envies the Priestess her office.’

  Jason’s cheek paled when he heard this recital, and his tongue failed him. Nevertheless, he had come too far to be able in honour to turn back. Admetus of Pherae spoke up for him to Phrontis: ‘We are none of us discouraged by what you say, Cousin, and you have put yourselves entirely at our leader’s disposal. I require you and your brothers to swear that you will loyally follow him until he shall have brought the Fleece safely back to Greece. If you refuse to take this oath I will kill you where you stand, despite our near kinship. For Jason has confided a secret to you which nobody may share who will not actively assist us.’

  They took the oath in an unroofed temple of Marianaë which stood not far off. The Amazons had erected it, years before, during one of their raids on this coast. The rude black statue of the Goddess still occupied its niche, and the altar of boulders stood ready to hold their sacrifice. In the three hollows of the topmost boulder they laid round white pebbles, like eggs, and revolved them moon-wise in intercession.

  The wind died down during the night. At dawn, though the sea was still rough, they launched the Argo and got her under way. With a gentle off-shore breeze they continued their voyage slowly past the lands of the quarrelsome Sapeirians, and of the sure-footed Byzerians, who live next to them, where the mountains draw close to the sea.

  They sailed all day and part of the following night, and then hove-to, being becalmed. After rowing all the next day they came to an immense misty plain covered with trees. At dusk that evening they entered the broad Phasis, a river that is navigable for a hundred and twenty miles or more from its mouth; but were too weary to row without a rest. The sons of Phrixus showed them a hidden backwater, where they might pass the night without fear of disturbance. They had come to the Stables of the Sun at last.

  But before they put into the backwater, Jason prudently stood up at the prow and poured into the river, from a golden goblet, a libation of honey and pure water, calling upon the deity of the river to be gracious to the Argo while she sailed upon that broad and glorious flood.

  Chapter Thirty

  Up the Phasis River

  The backwater smelt of fever, and on either side the rotting forest-trees were festooned with creepers to the very tops. The Argonauts were unable to land, because the land was thick black slime rather than earth and covered with a spiny undergrowth. They could not even cast anchor, being warned by the sons of Phrixus that in the morning it would be impossible to free the anchor-stones from the deep mud. Swarms of mosquitoes buzzed spitefully in their ears and stung them in the tenderest places, and grass-green tree-frogs in swarms came hopping along the gunwale and leaped down upon them with clammy feet.

  ‘Alas,’ said Peleus, ‘that our comrade with the scarlet buskins is no longer with us. Being an Argive, he knew the charm against frogs.’

  ‘Blame your own unhandiness with a javelin,’ said Idas, whom the frogs were vexing beyond endurance.

  Orpheus tried to comfort Idas by remarking that the frogs came with kindly intentions to rid the ship of mosquitoes; but Idas answered that it were better if the mosquitoes could rid the ship of frogs. He and Lynceus then begged Jason to put to sea again, and Jason consented; but the Argo at once grounded on a mud-bank. As they tried to push her off but only stirred up mud of disgusting stench, a thick sea-mist suddenly blew in; not even Lynceus could see his own hand held a foot from his face. They remained fast until morning, in speechless misery.

  Two hours after dawn the mist was still fairly thick, but they freed the Argo by hauling on two hawsers that Euphemus, swimming across the stream without fear of crocodiles or other monsters, had attached to the roots of trees on the further bank. This was the fiftieth day of the voyage and therefore celebrated with orisons to the Triple Goddess, who favours threes and nines and fifties, just as Zeus favours fours and twelves, and Apollo sevens; but they were careful not to raise their voices loud for fear of discovery. When they had finished their chant, they rowed through the mist past Phasis, the fever-stricken garrison town that King Aeëtes maintained on the left bank of the river; and this was done without trouble, for Argeus, son of Phrixus, answered the challenge of the watchman in his own language, which to the ears of the Argonauts sounded like the twittering of birds. Phasis was built on piles between the river and a lake teeming with grebe and teal and grey duck, and the law was that all foreign ships should put in there, whatever their port of origin, before proceeding under guard to Aea. But Jason preferred to leave the Governor of Phasis ignorant that the Argo had sailed up the river.

  The mist gradually cleared. They rowed on, hour after hour, between the same creeper-hung trees and banks of tall sedge. When they rested they did not disembark, but ate their meals uncooked. The sons of Phrixus showed them a sort of creeper, the smell of which was obnoxious to insects; they plucked its leaves, bruised them, and rubbed them on their heads and bodies. That night they were not troubled by stings but lay conversing in quiet tones, with the Argo secured to a mossy mooring-stake.

  Admetus said: ‘Comrades, I do not fear death, but I must confess that the nearer we approach the shrine where the Fleece is said to be hanging, the less likely do I think it that I shall ever see my dear wife Alcestis again, or the rich pasture-lands of Pherae, where my fat sheep bleat and my splendid horses whinny.’

  Phalerus took up this sentence at once, as though he had been thinking in exactly the same way. He said: ‘Or the tall, grey-green olives of Thespiae so neatly planted that broad avenues run straight through the orchards, in wherever direction one chooses to look, whether up or down or diagonally; and under whose shade the sweet-smelling bean-flower shines white in spring. For this is the wildest and gloomiest approach to a city that I have seen in all my life of sailing.’

  ‘Or the shady glens of Sparta,’ said Castor, ‘where the ground is green but firm, where the two-horse chariot rolls along without creak or jolt, and the booming sound of the sea is never heard. For what is one ship against thirty?’

  ‘Or the flowery slopes of Hymettos,’ said Butes, ‘where the drowsy buzz of bees sounds at midday, and the young shepherd makes music to his flocks on his jointed pipe. Or Athens crowned at evening with violet light, when the smoke of the evening meal rises at once from every house and hut in the city, redolent with the savour of tasty foods. For what are thirty-six men against five thousand?’

  ‘Or Apollo’s navel-shrine gleaming white through the thick laurel-grove,’ said Iphitus of Phocis. ‘Or the blue waters of the Crisaean Gulf. My comrade of the scarlet buskins perhaps did well to die when he did: he, at least, was buried with full rites, and his ghost by now is a lord of the Underworld, for doubtless he did not forget what he learned in Samothrace. But if we are destroyed by baleful Aeëtes ours will be the miserable fate of Phrixus – to be suspended in untanned ox-hides from the tops of lofty trees, for the crows and kites to peck at.’

  Peleus said bitterly: ‘If only we had Hercules here, if only you had listened to Admetus and myself –’

  ‘Enough of that, Peleus!’ cried Calaïs and Zetes in one breath.

  ‘Have you forgotten, comrades,’ asked Mopsus the Lapith, though in a voice that betrayed his lack of confid
ence, ‘that no less than five Olympian deities have blessed our enterprise?’

  Melampus of Pylos answered: ‘Olympus lies far from here. The law of Zeus does not run beyond Sinope, or the river Lycos even.’

  Idas uttered a forced laugh: ‘Leave the Olympians to their snowballing, man of Pylos. You have Idas with you – he fears nothing.’

  Nobody took Idas up; it was considered that his graceless jokes were best smothered with the wet blanket of silence.

  After a pause all looked to Jason to make some reassuring speech, but he sat brooding miserably. At last Orpheus spoke for him: ‘Comrades, you have forgotten the Great Goddess whose sovereignty is universal and perpetual (though in Greece she has indulgently divided her powers among her sportive children) and by whose original contrivance we are come here. There is no need to despair while we continue in her service. Forget Zeus and his Fleece for a while; remember the Goddess and her designs. The first object of our voyage is to seek out and inter the bones of Phrixus the Minyan. When we have done this and thereby satisfied the Goddess, we may be permitted to expect her help in the other matter also. Let not another word be said by anyone about the Fleece until the ghost of Phrixus is at peace at last.’