Aras was silent, for he could not conceive how he had been tricked. He decided that Periclymenus the wizard must have been at work.
Alcinoüs turned to Jason and asked: ‘Tell me, my lord, how did you contrive to escape from King Apsyrtus?’
Jason answered: ‘Majesty, relying upon the protection of five great Olympians, and especially of the Goddess Artemis, whose sanctuary at the mouth of the Fennel Stream the son of Aeëtes had attempted to defile by a treacherous murder, I killed him with my sword and hacked him to pieces. At his death the Princess Medea became the rightful Queen of Colchis, for Aeëtes had no heirs in the male line. She at once ordered the masters of her brother’s fleet, one galley of which we had destroyed by ramming, to return to Colchis; and they obeyed her, or so I suppose. Aras too is bound to obey her orders.’
Aras, though puzzled and no longer so confident as at his first entry, said doggedly: ‘I am too old a man to be fooled twice. It is impossible that you should have fought twelve ships with your single ship and come off victorious and without loss. King Apsyrtus is still alive, I am certain, and therefore I must carry out the orders that he gave me. I must bring back the Fleece, and the Princess Medea – who is being courted by King Styrus the Albanian – and I must either capture or destroy Jason and Atalanta.’
Alcinoüs asked: ‘Excellent Aras, do you agree to abide by my judgement, which will be an impartial one? The alternative is for you to attempt to take both the Fleece and the Princess Medea by force, in which case you will find yourself at war not only with myself but with the whole of Greece.’
Aras replied: ‘Majesty, I will abide by your judgement, if you swear an oath by the Goddess Brimo or Hecate or by whatever other name you may call the Infernal Queen, not to be swayed by the least partiality.’
‘That I am ready to swear,’ cried Alcinoüs, ‘though, by a decree of Zeus, the only Infernal Queen in whose name we are permitted to swear is Persephone, wife to his brother Hades.’
Jason said: ‘I also will abide by your judgement, Majesty. But I would have you know that Queen Circe of Aeaea, sister to King Aeëtes, has recently purified both Medea and myself, and Atalanta of Calydon too, from the blood which we shed or caused to be shed: she received us as suppliants in her immodestly shaped island and acted in accordance with a warning dream sent by the Goddess whom she serves.’
‘I will bear your words in mind,’ said Alcinoüs. Then he desired both Aras and Jason to swear an oath to abide by his judgement; but since Aras set no store by Persephone, they swore by the Sun, a deity common to both, and Augeas of Elis administered the oath. Alcinoüs said: ‘Tomorrow at noon I will deliver judgement from my throne. Meanwhile, pray remember that you are my guests and bound in a common bond of courtesy to me. I charge you to do nothing amiss.’
That night the Argonauts all slept together in the echoing porch of the palace, but Medea in a little room next door to the royal bed-chamber. Medea came secretly to Queen Arete and said: ‘Queen-Sister, have pity on me. Do not let your husband send me back to Aea. My father, King Aeëtes, is dead and so is my brother, and it is ridiculous for Aras to dispute my sovereignty of Colchis. I am in love with Jason, and we propose to marry so soon as ever we have returned the Fleece to its divine owner; then I shall be Queen of Ephyra and all Corinth, and he will be my King. I could share my throne of Colchis with him if I wished, and he his throne of Phthiotis with me; and I believe that he has acquired sovereign rights in Lemnos too, should he care to exercise them. Your husband must think twice, or three times, before he delivers so royal a pair as ourselves into the hands of a barbarous black outlander. Besides, as you have been told, we enjoy the patronage of all the principal Olympians, and, more than this, of the Triple Goddess herself, whom, I know, you secretly reverence before any of them. Be my friend, Arete, and one day I will reward you, you may be bound.’
Queen Arete kissed Medea and replied: ‘Queen-Sister, I will gladly plead your case with Alcinoüs. For I also had a harsh father from whom I suffered many unkindnesses, and a savage brother besides, as I judge yours to have been. And I have fallen half in love with Jason myself. I think that he is the handsomest man that ever I saw, and if you were to tell me that you would rather live with him in a fisherman’s hut than with another in a palace, I should readily believe you. It is his wonderful hair, I suppose.’
Medea sobbed for gratitude.
Arete put her arm about Medea’s shoulders and said: ‘I am sure that you will be very happy with him, for though Jason is clearly not so easy-going or so dependable a man as my Alcinoüs, yet you are as clearly a much cleverer woman than I am, and therefore equal to marriage with him. Of course, Jason is still young, and in time, I have no doubt, he will settle down as a just ruler and considerate husband. I must confess to you that I find marriage a wonderful institution – I cannot imagine how our grandmothers managed their affairs before it came into fashion, when the men were merely their casual lovers and there was nobody but themselves to rely upon. We wives have all the real power now, and little of the responsibility, and most of the sport. I secretly adore the Triple Goddess, of course, but I cannot pretend that I am not grateful to Zeus for making her his wife.’
Medea smiled at Arete through her tears, and she rattled on:
‘Sweet Child, how I envy you your wedding-night! It seems only yesterday that my dearest Alcinoüs and I were pelted with aniseed and ate the candied quince and kissed each other for the first time under the many-coloured bridal quilt that my dear mother worked for me! And how delicious the honeysuckle smelt that night! Believe me, my dear, the rapture of the first embrace never recurs; is never forgotten, but never recurs. Ah, the inexpressibly sweet joys that are still in store for you!’
The good Queen’s voice faltered for tenderness, and Medea could not bring herself to confess that, in truth, there could be no more miserable woman in all the world than herself – hating what she most desired, desiring what she most hated, far from home, the ruin of her own family, and a traitress to the magnanimous hero of whose shrine she was guardian. But she said: ‘Queen-Sister, I thank you for your good wishes, and with all my heart I envy you your contented life with noble Alcinoüs, the like of which I can never hope myself to enjoy. For, as you must know, a sworn priestess of the Goddess is cursed with the double-eye and the double-nature: she plots craftily and bloodily against her own innocence, in anguish destroys those that love her best, and to stave off loneliness peoples her house with liars, weaklings, and ruffians.’
Arete cried: ‘O Child, do not speak so terribly, even to ward off the jealousy of God or Spite! Goodness shines from your face; I will not believe you capable of any evil action. May you be blessed with many children, four or five at least; children have a delightfully calming effect on women who are over-gifted with intelligence, as you seem to be.’
Medea answered: ‘Excellent Arete, I dare hope for no such blessings, though I am as honest a woman, I believe, as yourself. The terrible Mother hounds me on, possessing my soul and making me the vessel of her implacable rage; until she has done with me, I am as dangerous to any city where I may lodge as a smoking pine torch in a barley-field ripe for cutting. Therefore, Queen-Sister, if in the goodness of your heart you can save me now, that will be a proof of your wisdom as well as of your virtue; but pray do not persuade me to stay with you a day longer than is necessary.
Chapter Forty-Three
The Colchians are Again Outwitted
In bed with Alcinoüs that night, Arete made herself as charming as possible, scratching his head gently for him with her evenly trimmed nails, and kissing him often. She asked him: ‘My noble lord, tell me what judgement you intend to deliver tomorrow in the case of our sweet guest, the Colchian Princess. For really it would break my heart if you sent her back to be married to that old Albanian wretch about whom Atalanta was telling me. Imagine, he has never washed since he was born – Albanian law strictly prohibits washing – and is crawling with vermin like an old cheese. Such a beaut
iful girl as she is, too, and so unhappy, and the orphan daughter of your old friend…’
Alcinoüs was pretending to be asleep, but he could not refrain from answering at this point. ‘In the first place, dearest one, I cannot tell you what judgement I shall deliver; it will doubtless be revealed to me in a dream. And in the second place, I find it somewhat absurd for you to try to excite my sympathies on behalf of this orphan, whose own disobedient folly was the immediate cause of her father’s death, and it may be of her brother’s too – though this is not yet proved against her. “Strong Mind” is my name, and Strong Mind is my nature.’
‘My dear,’ said Arete, ‘I know how kind-hearted you are by nature, though you pretend to be severe. I am sure that whatever might happen you could never treat either of our daughters as Aeëtes has treated his. You must admit that most fathers are all too strict and jealous with their children. Do you recall the case of Nycteus, brother of Orion the famous Theban hunter? He tried to oppose his daughter Antiope’s marriage to Epopeus of Sicyon, and when she ran off to Epopeus, actually went to war with Sicyon and brought hundreds of innocent families to ruin including his own; and ended by killing himself. And then there was King Acrisius of Argos, who locked his daughter Danaë in a bronze burial-chamber, and when she became pregnant despite all his precautions, set her adrift on the sea in a chest; but she bore a son, the famous Perseus, who killed him and became the founder of Mycenae. If you want a more modern instance, look at our neighbour Echetus of Epirus, who has blinded his daughter Amphissa for the crime of making him a grandfather, and now forces her to grind iron barley-corns in a dungeon – do you suppose that his affairs are likely to prosper? If you were to ask me, I should say that Aeëtes, though perhaps a discreet man in public (as opposed to domestic) affairs, has richly deserved his fate.’
‘That Aeëtes may have behaved foolishly or even cruelly does not justify his daughter in disobeying him,’ said Alcinoüs. ‘At the most, it merely accounts for his death. Two wrongs, you know, do not make a right.’
‘But think,’ protested Arete, ‘of what will happen if you give your verdict against the Argonauts. They are connected in one way or another with half the royal families of Greece, and have the patronage of at least five Olympians. As for these Colchians, they live at the other end of the world and it is more than doubtful whether Medea has any male relative left whose anger you need fear in the case of a mistakenly generous verdict in her favour. On the contrary, her nephews, the sons of Phrixus, have the deepest sympathy for her and have abetted her in her flight.’
‘The Olympians,’ said Alcinoüs severely, ‘spit a man out like a spoonful of burning hot porridge the moment that he behaves in a treacherous or unjust fashion; and I have no intention of condoning crime merely because the defendant happens to be rich or well-born and to have several accomplices, or because the plaintiff happens to live a long way off. Until the death of Apsyrtus is proved (and I have yet to hear evidence on this point), I am obliged to assume him alive and an interested party. To be frank with you, I do not trust young Jason in the least – he has told me too many half-truths and downright lies; and Echion the herald is too eloquent by half; and that the Princess Medea has fallen in love with Jason may be an explanation of her conduct but certainly is no reason why I should condone its irregularity.’
Arete said: ‘My dear lord, it may be that you are right, as you often are, but I swear that I shall not sleep a wink unless I know what decision you are going to give tomorrow.’
‘I repeat, dear one,’ he said as mildly as possible, ‘that I have not the least notion. I intend to sleep upon it.’
‘I think,’ said Arete with warmth, ‘that to go to sleep on a problem which one is too lazy to solve is a most foolish procedure. All that can happen is that on waking up one will forget all the relevant facts in the case and deliver a random judgement.’ She stepped out of bed and began pacing up and down the room.
‘Come back, darling, come back!’ pleaded Alcinoüs. ‘I was exceedingly comfortable as I lay in your arms.’
‘I will come back,’ answered Arete firmly, ‘when you have told me roughly what judgement you are going to deliver tomorrow. Only roughly, mind you! I am your wife and I cannot bear, on an occasion of this sort, not to know what is passing through your mind.’
Since Alcinoüs and Arete never quarrelled, Alcinoüs yielded at once. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘roughly, my verdict will, I suppose, be this. Since there is a conflict of evidence as to the alleged death of King Apsyrtus, I must presume him to be still alive and his sister’s legal champion, unless she is proved to have already passed under the championship of Jason or some other Greek by an act of marriage – which, for all I know, may have already taken place with due formality and the consent of her father or brother. If she is already a bride, it would be manifestly absurd for me to allow her to be dragged back by Aras half-way across the world for the purpose of a royal marriage. But if she is still a virgin, as I presume she is, judging from her dress, why, back she must go, however unhappy this judgement may make her. For justice must be done. As for the Fleece, who is its rightful guardian? It is Medea, the Priestess of the shrine of Prometheus; wherever the guardian goes, there let the Fleece go too, I say. As for any act of vengeance contemplated against Atalanta of Calydon, that can be no concern of mine; however, I forbid any bloodshed within my dominion, under threat of war.’
Arete climbed back into bed. ‘I think that yours is the most sensible and equitable judgement in a difficult case that I have ever heard,’ she said. ‘Now sleep, my dear lord, and wake refreshed. I will not trouble you again. “Virtue” is my name and Virtue is my nature.’
As soon as ever Alcinoüs was snoring, Arete stole from the room and sent one of her women running to summon her personal herald. When he came in, confused with sleep, she told him: ‘Send for your colleague Echion. I have good news for him that will not wait. He is sleeping on the porch.’
The herald blinked at her like an owl, but she dashed water in his face to bring him to his senses. When he went to seek Echion on the porch, he found it deserted. He hurried down to the port and caught the Argonauts on the point of re-embarking, for Jason had decided to leave Medea behind and make his escape with the Fleece, regarding this as his sacred duty.
‘Where are you going, my lords?’ the herald asked.
‘O, nowhere, nowhere at all, Brother,’ replied Echion; ‘we are doing no more than shift our moorings. Our comrade Coronus of Gyrton, a weather prophet like all Crow men, has persuaded himself that the wind is about to slew round to the north-east; we are merely sailing across the harbour to humour him.’
‘My mistress Arete has good news for you that will not wait,’ said the herald, ‘and if I am right in my guess, you would be prudent to return at once to the echoing palace porch, trusting to your hawsers and anchors to keep that gallant and far-travelled ship of yours off the rocks.’
So back they came like a flock of sheep, the herald trotting behind, like a shepherd’s dog who has no need to bark or show his teeth, his mere presence being sufficient warning to the flock that they must keep to the right path.
Echion was brought before the Queen. She smiled graciously as she told him: ‘A word to the wise, divine herald. Unless your master Prince Jason has married the Princess Medea before morning, the King’s judgement is likely to go against them. Let them make haste.’
Echion asked: ‘But, gracious Lady, how can so important a marriage as this be decently celebrated at such short notice?’
Queen Arete answered: ‘If it is not celebrated immediately, it will never be celebrated. Now listen to me. King Alcinoüs is asleep and I do not wish him to be disturbed by the music of the marriage-song, for he is inexpressibly weary, and as a dutiful wife I must ensure that he loses no sleep. The island of Macris at the entrance to our harbour is the very place for the ceremony. Have you ever visited the sacred cave there, the cave of Macris the Pelasgian? She was the last priestess of Dionysus at D
elphi before Apollo seized the shrine from him, and she ended her days in that very cave. Inform Jason that all the resources of my house-hold are at his command and that of his royal bride. He is welcome to my Court musicians; and my Court ladies will attend the bride, bringing with them as much linen and as many swan’s-down pillows as will make a bridal bed of the handsomest. Doubtless Jason will find his own blankets; but I will provide wine and mixing-bowls and torches and beasts for sacrifice and cakes and comfits and quinces – in short, everything that he can possibly require. Fortunately, my ladies went out into the valley this evening and brought their baskets home full of flowers, so I cannot think of anything that will be missing. If Apsyrtus is dead, as you say – and I have no reason to doubt you – the sons of Phrixus are the Princess Medea’s nearest surviving male kinsmen and therefore competent, in modern Greek law, to yield her in marriage to Prince Jason. I will provide a priest – my own palace chaplain – who knows well what sacrifices to make to the local marriage deities; and Atalanta here can propitiate Artemis.’
Echion asked: ‘But what of Medea? Does she agree to these hasty arrangements made on her behalf?’
Queen Arete replied: ‘Naturally, Medea would have vastly preferred a decently conducted marriage at Iolcos in Jason’s own house, where the axle of the cart in which she rode could have been duly burned. But better a hasty marriage, and even a hole-and-corner one (as she herself says), than none at all.’
Jason was properly grateful to Queen Arete, and calling his comrades together begged them in a whisper not to reveal to her or anyone else that from over-caution he had so nearly lost this glittering prize. Then they gathered together all the wedding-gear that Arete offered them and brought it down with them to the Argo. The Court ladies undertook to follow later with the bride, but the Court musicians clambered aboard with their instruments; and after a few minutes of rowing the Argo was beached on the islet of Macris. There in the cave the comrades of Jason laid turves to mould a bridal couch, and festooned the entrance with ivy and bay, and spread trestle-tables for the wedding-feast. While Atalanta propitiated Artemis with the sacrifice of a heifer – being well aware that the Goddess is averse to marriage and takes revenge on those who forget her – Queen Arete’s palace chaplain regaled the local deities, Aristaeus and Autonoë, with sober offerings of grapes, honeycomb, olive oil, and sheep’s cheese. Butes took a delight in assisting at this feast, because Aristaeus had been not only the first cheesemaker in Greece and the first planter of an olive-orchard, but the first bee-keeper.
The Golden Fleece Page 46