He was doing it now, maneuvering in the air and making one bad movement after the other, almost falling to the ground right on his face! At the last moment he managed to straighten himself up and persuade the winged sandals to take him down, on the gravel in front of the grand palace that stood on the Mediterranean shore at Joppa.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Queen Cassiopea burst out of the palace with the King in her wake. In spite of stories of their being Ethiopeans, both were of a definite Mediterranean type, no less than Perseus himself. Cassiopea hugged the young man as a long lost beloved relative, crying out, “Welcome to Yaffo, our beautiful fortress, as you can see, because that’s what the name means, and you can see how beautiful everything here is, the shore and the palace and us... Beauty is an ideal for us, you know.” She paused, as if letting him absorb all that beauty around them. She, indeed, was a beautiful woman, though not so young any more, of course. But she did have that dignity of long rule, not very tall and slightly plump; but the magnificent arrangement of her dark brown hair added to her stature, and with her face’s regular features and lovely bright, brown eyes, she could well be considered a beauty.
“Come now, let me show you around,” she pulled Perseus by the arm, almost ignoring her husband’s gesture to be introduced as well. She did it, though, a little reluctant; then went on with her explanations as they went through the palace’s gate. “You can see our Cretan building traditions here, though we were not above adding some oriental Canaanite style for variety. It was Agenor, you know, the Canaanite, who wants to marry Andromeda, but she’s all yours if you save her from the monster. You will, won’t you?” Her Cassiopea paused and looked at Perseus, searching his face with her sharp eyes, examining him from head to sandaled feet.
“Hmm, yes, I suppose, isn’t that’s why I am here?” he said. Having been only half-listening, he was not completely sure of the right answer.
“Come, young man,” the King intervened at last. “Leave him alone, Cassi, he’s probably tired from the trip, and hungry or thirsty or something. Let the man breathe, for the gods’ sake.”
“And which gods are you swearing by, pray?” She turned on her husband with a fury, which seemed to be of long lasting, though Perseus could not rightly say what it had to do with what the man had said.
“Or, Athena I suppose, but I don’t mind calling her Anat, as they do in these places. But I know that the local divinities still seem strange to you. Unless you want me to swear by Poseidon?” And he looked at her aslant, with a cunning expression Perseus would not have expected of him. “But you can say nothing against Athena, can you, as she’s the one who supports this young man?” Cepheus added.
“Does she?” she turned to the young prince.
“Yes. She’s the one who helped me get Medusa’s head, you know, without which I can’t accomplish the task of fighting against the monster.”
“Medusa’s head, indeed? Do you have it here with you?” She sounded quite curious. “How thrilling! And frightening, I suppose. How’re you going to use it?”
“I think the idea is to turn it toward the monster, so that it will petrify before it can catch your daughter...” Again, he sounded not quite sure of himself, and Cepheus wondered about it. But the Queen paid no attention to the hesitations of the young man.
“Oh, very well then. Now, tell me, do you think the Goddess is as beautiful as I am? Of course, you haven’t seen Andromeda yet, so you can’t tell about her.”
“There!” cried the King, “are you starting all that again, the present danger is not enough for you?”
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