said that besides all that the sons of Phrixus should pay a fitting penalty to himself for returning in consort with evil-doers, that they might recklessly drive him from his honour and his throne; for once he had heard a baleful prophecy from his father Helios, that he must avoid the secret treachery and schemes of his own offspring and their crafty mischief.  Wherefore he was sending them, as they desired, to the Achaean land at the bidding of their father—­a long journey.  Nor had he ever so slight a fear of his daughters, that they would form some hateful scheme, nor of his son Apsyrtus; but this curse was being fulfilled in the children of Chalciope.  And he proclaimed terrible things in his rage against the strangers, and loudly threatened to keep watch over the ship and its crew, so that no one might escape calamity.

Meantime Argus, going to Aeetes’ palace, with manifold pleading besought his mother to pray Medea’s aid; and Chalciope herself already had the same thoughts, but fear checked her soul lest haply either fate should withstand and she should entreat her in vain, all distraught as she would be at her father’s deadly wrath, or, if Medea yielded to her prayers, her deeds should be laid bare and open to view.

Now a deep slumber had relieved the maiden from her love-pains as she lay upon her couch.  But straightway fearful dreams, deceitful, such as trouble one in grief, assailed her.  And she thought that the stranger had taken on him the contest, not because he longed to win the ram’s fleece, and that he had not come on that account to Aeetes’ city, but to lead her away, his wedded wife, to his own home; and she dreamed that herself contended with the oxen and wrought the task with exceeding ease; and that her own parents set at naught their promise, for it was not the maiden they had challenged to yoke the oxen but the stranger himself; from that arose a contention of doubtful issue between her father and the strangers; and both laid the decision upon her, to be as she should direct in her mind.  But she suddenly, neglecting her parents, chose the stranger.  And measureless anguish seized them and they shouted out in their wrath; and with the cry sleep released its hold upon her.  Quivering with fear she started up, and stared round the walls of her chamber, and with difficulty did she gather her spirit within her as before, and lifted her voice aloud: 

“Poor wretch, how have gloomy dreams affrighted me!  I fear that this voyage of the heroes will bring some great evil.  My heart is trembling for the stranger.  Let him woo some Achaean girl fair away among his own folk; let maidenhood be mine and the home of my parents.  Yet, taking to myself a reckless heart, I will no more keep aloof but will make trial of my sister to see if she will entreat me to aid in the contest, through grief for her own sons; this would quench the bitter pain in my heart.”