The land of Thebes, that folk who saw its name

  In old records, would turn the page, and blame

  The chronicler for telling empty lies,

  And mingling fables with his histories.

  Therefore is Athamas a wretched man

  To hear this tale, and doeth what he can

  To save his flesh and blood, but all in vain;

  Because the people, cruel in their pain,

  With angry words were thronging the great hall,

  And crafty Ino at his feet did fall,

  Saying, O King, I pray for these, and me,

  And for my children. Therefore, mournfully

  He called the priests again, and bade them say,

  In few words, how his children they would slay,

  And when the dreadful Bearer of the bow

  Would best be pleased to see their young blood flow.

  Who said, that if the thing were quickly done,

  Seeing the green things were not wholly gone,

  The ruined fields might give a little food,

  And that the morrow’s noon was meet and good,

  Above all other hours, to do the thing;

  And thereupon they prayed unto the king,

  To take the younglings, lest they flee and live,

  And many an evil day hereafter give

  To Thebes which bore them on a hapless tide.

  Then men were sent, who by the river side

  Found Phryxus casting nets into the stream;

  Who, seeing them coming, little harm did deem

  They meant him, and with welcome bade them share

  The glittering heap of fishes that lay there.

  But they with laughter fell at once on him,

  Who, struggling wrathfully, broke here a limb

  And there a head, but lastly on the ground

  Being felled by many men, was straightly bound,

  And in an iron-bolted prison laid,

  While to the house they turned to seek the maid.

  Whom soon they found, within the weaving-room,

  Bent earnestly above the rattling loom,

  Working not like a king’s child, but a slave

  Who strives her body from the scourge to save.

  On her they seized, speechless for very fear,

  And dragged her trembling to the prison drear,

  Where lay her brother, and there cast her in,

  Giddy and fainting, wondering for what sin

  She suffered this; but, finding Phryxus laid

  In the same dismal place, the wretched maid

  Bewailed with him the sorrows of their life,

  Praying the Gods to show the king’s new wife

  What sorrow was, nor let her hair grow grey

  Ere in some hopeless place her body lay.

  NOW in that court a certain beast there was,

  The gift of Neptune to King Athamas,

  A mighty ram, greater than such beasts be

  In any land about the Grecian sea;

  And in all else a wonder to men’s eyes,

  For from his shoulders did two wings arise,

  That seemed as they were wrought of beaten gold,

  And all his fleece was such as in no fold

  The shepherd sees, for all was gold indeed.

  And now this beast with dainty grass to feed,

  The task of Nephele had late been made,

  Who, nothing of the mighty ram afraid,

  Would bring him flowering trefoil day by day,

  And comb his fleece; and her the ram would pay

  With gentle bleatings, and would lick her hand,

  As in his well-built palace he did stand.

  For all the place was made of polished wood,

  Studded with gold; and, when he thought it good,

  Within a little meadow could he go,

  Throughout the midst whereof a stream did flow,

  And at the corners stood great linden-trees,

  Hummed over by innumerable bees.

  So on the morning when these twain should die,

  Stole Nephele to this place privily,

  And loosed the ram, and led him straight away

  Unto Diana’s temple, where that day

  Her heart should break unless the Gods were good.

  There with the ram, close in a little wood,

  She hid herself a-nigh the gates, till noon

  Should bring those to the Lady of the Moon

  She longed to see; and as the time drew nigh,

  She knelt, and with her trembling hands did tie

  About the gold beast’s neck a mystic thing,

  And in his ears, meanwhile, was murmuring

  Words taught her by the ever-changing God,

  Who on the sands at noon is wont to nod

  Beside the flock of Neptune; till at last

  Upon the breeze the sound of flutes went past;

  Then sore she trembled, as she held the beast

  By the two golden horns, but never ceased

  Her mystic rhyme; and louder, and more loud

  The music sounded, till the solemn crowd

  Along the dusty road came full in sight.

  First went the minstrels, clad in raiment white,

  Both men and maids garlanded daintily;

  And then ten damsels, naked from the knee,

  Who in their hands bare bows done round with leaves,

  And arrows at their backs in goodly sheaves,

  Gay-feathered, ready for the flight in air;

  Then came three priests; one bore the steel made bare,

  One a great golden bowl to hold the blood,

  And one a bundle of some sacred wood;

  And then was left a little vacant space,

  And then came gold, and therewithal the face

  Of beauteous Ino, flushed and triumphing,

  And by her, moody and downcast, the king.

  And now her heart beat quick and fast indeed,

  Because the two came, doomed that day to bleed

  Over the grey bark of the hallowed wood,

  Of whom went Phryxus in most manly mood,

  Looking around, with mournful, steady eyes,

  Upon the green fields and the braveries,

  And all he never thought to see again.

  But Helle, as she went, could not refrain

  From bitter wailing for the days gone by,

  When hope was mixed with certain misery,

  And when the long day’s task and fear was done,

  She might take pleasure sometimes in the sun,

  Whose rays she saw now glittering on the knife

  That in a little time should end her life.

  Now she, who in coarse raiment had been clad

  For many a year, upon her body had.

  On this ill day, a golden pearl-wrought gown,

  And on her drooping head a glittering crown,

  And jewelled sandals on her hinting feet,

  And on her neck and bosom jewels meet

  For one who should be wedded to a king;

  Thus to her death went moaning this sweet thing.

  But when they drew a-nigh the temple gate

  The trembling, weeping mother, laid in wait,

  Let go the mighty beast upon the throng,

  Like as a hunter holds the gazehound long,

  Until the great buck stalks from out the herd,

  And then, with well-remembered hunting word,

  Slips the stout leash: so did she slip the beast,

  Who dashed aside both singing-man and priest

  And girded maiden, and the king amazed,

  And Ino, who with wild eyes stood and gazed,

  The horror rising in her evil heart.

  And thereon Phryxus, seeing the dose crowd part,

  And this deliverer nigh him, with wings spread

  Ready for flight, and eager threatening head,

  Without more words, upon his broad back sprung,

  And drew his sister after him, who clung

  With trembling arms about him; and straightway

  They turned unto the rising of the day,

  And over all rose up into the air

  With sounding wings; nor yet did any dare,

  As fast they flew, to bend on them a bow,

  Thinking some God had surely willed it so.

  THEN went the king unto his house again

  And Ino with him, downcast that the twain

  Had so escaped her, waiting for what Fate

  Should bring upon her doomed head, soon or late.

  Nor long she waited; for, one evil day,

  Unto the king her glittering gold array

  And rosy flesh, half seen through raiment thin,

  Seemed like the many-spotted leopard’s skin;

  And her fair hands and feet like armed paws,

  Which the keen beast across the strained throat draws

  Of some poor fawn; and when he saw her go

  Across the hall, her footsteps soft and slow,

  And the lithe motion of her body fair

  But made him think of some beast from his lair

  Stolen forth at the beginning of the night.

  Therefore with fear and anger at the sight

  He shook, being maddened by some dreadful God;

  And stealthily about the place he trod,

  Seeking his sword; and, getting it to hand,

  With flaming eyes and foaming mouth did stand

  Awhile, then rushed at Ino as she stood

  Trembling and pale, in horror of his mood;

  Straightway she caught her raiment up and fled

  Adown the streets, where once she had been led

  In triumph by the man whose well-known cheer

  Close at her heels, now struck benumbing fear

  Into her heart, the forge of many a woe.

  So, full of anguish panting did she go

  O’er rough and smooth, till field and wood were passed,

  And on the border of the sea at last,

  With raiment torn and unshod feet, she stood,

  Reddening the flowering sea-pink with her blood.

  But when she saw the tireless hunter nigh,

  All wild and shouting, with a dreadful cry

  She stretched her arms out seaward, and sprung down

  Over the cliff among the seaweed brown

  And washing surf, neither did any one

  See aught of her again beneath the sun.

  But Athamas, being come to where she stood,

  Stared vacantly awhile upon the blood,

  Then looking seaward, drew across his eyes

  His fevered hand; and thronging memories

  Came thick upon him, until dreamily

  He turned his back upon the hungry sea,

  And cast his sword down; and so, weaponless,

  Went back, half-waking to his sore distress.

  AS for the twain, perched on that dizzy height,

  The white-walled city faded from their sight,

  And many another place that well they knew;

  And over woods and meadows still they flew;

  And to the husbandmen seemed like a flame

  Blown ‘twixt the earth and the sky; until they came

  Unto the borders of the babbling sea.

  Nor stayed they yet, but flew unceasingly,

  Till, looking back, seemed Pelion like a cloud;

  And they beheld the white-topped billows crowd

  Unto the eastward, ‘neath the following wind.

  And there a wretched end did Helle find

  Unto her life; for when she did behold,

  So far beneath, the deep green sea and cold,

  She shut her eyes for horror of the sight,

  Turning the sunny day to murk midnight,

  Through which there floated many an awful thing,

  Made vocal by the ceaseless murmuring

  Beneath her feet; till a great gust of wind

  Caught the beast’s wings and swayed him round; then, blind,

  Dizzy, and fainting, did she grow too weak

  To hold her place, though still her hands did seek

  Some stay by catching at the locks of gold;

  And as she fell her brother strove to hold

  Her jewelled girdle, but the treacherous zone

  Broke in his hand, and he was left alone

  Upon the ram, that as a senseless thing,

  Still flew on toward the east, no whit heeding

  His shouts and cries; but Helle, as she fell

  Down through the depths, the sea-folk guarded well,

  And kept her body dead, from scar or wound,

  And laid it, lapped in sea-wet gold around,

  Upon the south side of the murmuring strait,

  That still, in memory of her piteous fate,

  Bears her sweet name; her, in a little while,

  The country folk beheld, and raised a pile

  Of beech and oak logs all with flowers bespread;

  And, lifting up the piteous maiden dead,

  Laid her thereon, and there did everything,

  As for the daughter of a mighty king.

  BUT through the straits passed Phryxus, sad enow,

  And fearful of the wind that by his brow

  Went shrieking, as without all stop or stay,

  The golden wings still bore him on his way

  Above the unlucky waves of that ill sea

  That foamed beneath his feet unceasingly.

  Nor knew he to what land he was being borne,

  Whether he should be set, unarmed, forlorn,

  In darksome lands, among unheard of things,

  Or stepping off from ‘twixt the golden wings,

  Should set foot in some happy summer isle,

  Whereon the kind unburning sun doth smile

  For ever, and that knows no frost or drought;

  Or else it seemed to him, he might be brought

  Unto green forests where the wood-nymphs play

  With their wild mates, and fear no coming day.

  And there might he forget both crown and sword,

  And e’en the names of slave, and king, and lord,

  And lead a merry life, till all was done,

  And ‘mid the green boughs, marked by no carved stone,

  His unremembered bones should change and blend

  With all the change that endless summers send.

  So, ‘mid these thoughts, afeard, and clinging fast

  Unto his dizzy seat, the sea he passed,

  And reached a river opening into it,

  Across the which the white-winged fowl did flit

  From cliff to cliff, and on the sandy bar,

  The fresh waves and the salt waves were at war

  At turning of the tide. Forth flew they then,

  Till they drew nigh a strange abode of men,

  Far up the river, white-walled, fair, and great,

  And at each end of it a brazen gate,

  Wide open through the daylight, guarded well;

  And nothing of its name could Phryxus tell,

  But hoped the beast would stop, for to his eyes

  The place seemed fair; nor fell it otherwise.

  There stayed the ram his course, and lighted down

  Anigh the western gate of that fair town,

  And on the hard way Phryxus joyfully

  Set foot, full dizzy with the murmuring sea,

  Numbed by the cold wind; and with little fear,

  Unto the guarded gate he drew anear,

  While the gold beast went ever after him.

  But they, beholding him so strong of limb,

  And fair of face, and seeing the beast that trod

  Behind his back, deemed him some wandering God,

  So let the two-edged sword hang by the side,

  And by the wall the well-steeled spear abide.

  But he called out to them, What place is this?

  And who rules over you for woe or bliss?

  And will he grant me peace to-day or war?

  And may I here abide, or still afar

  Must I to new abodes go wandering?

  Now as he spake those words, that city’s king

  Adown the street was drawing toward the gate,

  Clad in gold raiment worthy his estate,

  Therefore one said: Behold, our king is here,

  Who of all us is held both lief and dear;

  Aetes, leader of a mighty host,

  Feared by all folk along the windy coast.

  And since this city’s name thou fain wouldst know,

  Men call it Aea, built long years ago,

  Holpen of many Gods, who love it well.

  Now come thou to the king, and straightway tell

  Thy name and country, if thou be a man,

  And how thou camest o’er the water wan,

  And what the marvel is thou hast with thee:

  But if thou be a God, theft here will we

  Build thee a house, and, reverencing thy name,

  Bring thee great gifts and much-desired fame.

  Thus spake he, fearful; but the king drew nigh,

  Wondering what wise they came by cloud and sky,

  The marvellous beast, the fair man richly clad,

  Who at his belt no sort of weapon had;

  Then spoke he, Who art thou, in what strange wain

  Hast thou crossed o’er the green and restless plain

  Unharvested of any? And this thing,

  That like an image stands with folded wing,

  Is he a gift to thee from any God,

  Or hast thou in some unknown country trod,

  Where beasts are such-like ? Howsoe’er it be,

  Here shalt thou dwell, if so thou wilt, with me,

  Unless some God be chasing thee, and then,

  What wouldst thou have us do, who are but men,

  Against the might of Gods ? Then Phryxus spake:

  O king, no God is angry for my sake,

  But rather some one loves me well; for lo,

  As the sharp knife drew nigh awhile ago

  Unto my very throat, there came this ram

  Who brought me to the place where now I am,

  Safe from the sea and from the bitter knife.

  And in this city would I spend my life

  And do what service seemeth good to thee,

  Since all the Gods it pleases I should be

  Outcast from friends and country, though alive;

  Nor with their will have I the heart to strive

  More than thou hast; and now as in such wise

  I have been saved, fain would I sacrifice

  This beast to Jove, the helper of all such

  As false friends fail, or foes oppress o’ermuch.

  Yea, said Aetes, so the thing shall be

  In whatsoever fashion pleaseth thee;

  And long time mayst thou dwell with us in bliss,

 

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