"Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to come," answered the princess."A crop of armed men never fails to spring up, when the dragon's teeth have been sown."The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, and threw its bright beams over the plowed field, where as yet there was nothing to be seen.Any farmer, on viewing it, would have said that Jason must wait weeks before the green blades would peep from among the clods, and whole months before the yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle.But by and by, all over the field, there was something that glistened in the moonbeams, like sparkling drops of dew.These bright objects sprouted higher, and proved to be the steel heads of spears.Then there was a dazzling gleam from a vast number of polished brass helmets, beneath which, as they grew farther out of the soil, appeared the dark and bearded visages of warriors, struggling to free themselves from the imprisoning earth.The first look that they gave at the upper world was a glare of wrath and defiance.Next were seen their bright breastplates; in every right hand there was a sword or a spear, and on each left arm a shield; and when this strange crop of warriors had but half grown out of the earth, they struggled--such was their impatience of restraint--and, as it were, tore themselves up by the roots.Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen, there stood a man armed for battle.They made a clangor with their swords against their shields, and eyed one another fiercely; for they had come into this beautiful world, and into the peaceful moonlight, full of rage and stormy passions, and ready to take the life of every human brother, in recompense of the boon of their own existence.
There have been many other armies in the world that seemed to possess the same fierce nature with the one which had now sprouted from the dragon's teeth; but these, in the moonlit field, were the more excusable, because they never had women for their mothers.And how it would have rejoiced any great captain, who was bent on conquering the world, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed soldiers as easily as Jason did! For a while, the warriors stood flourishing their weapons, clashing their swords against their shields, and boiling over with the red-hot thirst for battle.Then they began to shout--"Show us the enemy! Lead us to the charge!
Death or victory!" "Come on, brave comrades! Conquer or die!"and a hundred other outcries, such as men always bellow forth on a battle field, and which these dragon people seemed to have at their tongues' ends.At last, the front rank caught sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash of so many weapons in the moonlight, had thought it best to draw his sword.In a moment all the sons of the dragon's teeth appeared to take Jason for an enemy; and crying with one voice, "Guard the Golden Fleece!"they ran at him with uplifted swords and protruded spears.
Jason knew that it would be impossible to withstand this blood-thirsty battalion with his single arm, but determined, since there was nothing better to be done, to die as valiantly as if he himself had sprung from a dragon's tooth.
Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from the ground.
"Throw it among them quickly!" cried she."It is the only way to save yourself."The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could discern the fire flashing out of their enraged eyes, when he let fly the stone, and saw it strike the helmet of a tall warrior, who was rushing upon him with his blade aloft.The stone glanced from this man's helmet to the shield of his nearest comrade, and thence flew right into the angry face of another, hitting him smartly between the eyes.Each of the three who had been struck by the stone took it for granted that his next neighbor had given him a blow; and instead of running any farther towards Jason, they began to fight among themselves.The confusion spread through the host, so that it seemed scarcely a moment before they were all hacking, hewing, and stabbing at one another, lopping off arms, heads, and legs and doing such memorable deeds that Jason was filled with immense admiration;although, at the same time, he could not help laughing to behold these mighty men punishing each other for an offense which he himself had committed.In an incredibly short space of time (almost as short, indeed, as it had taken them to grow up), all but one of the heroes of the dragon's teeth were stretched lifeless on the field.The last survivor, the bravest and strongest of the whole, had just force enough to wave his crimson sword over his head and give a shout of exultation, crying, "Victory! Victory! Immortal fame!" when he himself fell down, and lay quietly among his slain brethren.
And there was the end of the army that had sprouted from the dragon's teeth.That fierce and feverish fight was the only enjoyment which they had tasted on this beautiful earth.
"Let them sleep in the bed of honor," said the Princess Medea, with a sly smile at Jason."The world will always have simpletons enough, just like them, fighting and dying for they know not what, and fancying that posterity will take the trouble to put laurel wreaths on their rusty and battered helmets.Could you help smiling, Prince Jason, to see the self-conceit of that last fellow, just as he tumbled down?""It made me very sad," answered Jason, gravely."And, to tell you the truth, princess, the Golden Fleece does not appear so well worth the winning, after what I have here beheld!""You will think differently in the morning," said Medea."True, the Golden Fleece may not be so valuable as you have thought it; but then there is nothing better in the world; and one must needs have an object, you know.Come! Your night's work has been well performed; and to-morrow you can inform King Aetes that the first part of your allotted task is fulfilled."Agreeably to Medea's advice, Jason went betimes in the morning to the palace of King Aetes.Entering the presence chamber, he stood at the foot of the throne, and made a low obeisance.
