Complete Works of William Morris, page 320
Not doing any service worse than this,
To bear in war my royal banner forth
When fall the wild folk on us from the north.
Come now this eve, and hold high feast with us,
And tell us all of strange and piteous
Thy story hath. So went he with the king,
And gladly told unto him everything
That had befallen him, and in a grove,
Upon the altar of the Saving Jove,
They offered up the ram the morrow mordn
That thitherward the Theban prince had borne.
And thenceforth Phryxus dwelt in Colchis long
In wealth and honour, and being brave and strong,
Won great renown in many a bloody fray,
And still grew greater; and both night and day,
Within his pillared house, upon the wall
Hung the gold Fleece; until it did befall
That in Aetes’ heart a longing grew
To have that treasure, even if he slew
His guest to get it: so one evil night,
While the prince lay and dreamed about the fight,
With all-armed men was every entry filled,
And quickly were the few doorkeepers killed;
And Phryxus, roused with clamour from his bed,
Half-armed and dizzy, with few strokes was dead.
And thus the King Aetes had his will,
And thus the GOLDEN FLEECE he keepeth still
Somewhere within his royal house of gold.
And thus O Minyæ, is the story told
Of things that happened forty years agone;
Nor of the Greeks has there been any one
To set the Theban’s bones within a tomb,
Or to Aetes mete out his due doom;
And yet indeed, it seemeth unto me
That many a man would go right willingly,
And win great thanks of men, and godlike fame,
If there should spring up some great prince of name
To lead them; and I pray that such an one,
Before my head is laid beneath a stone,
Be sent unto us by the Gods above.
THEREWITH he ceased; but all the hall did move,
As moves a grove of rustling poplar-trees
Bowed all together by the shifting breeze,
And through the place the name of Jason ran,
Nor ‘mid the feasters, was there any man
But toward the hero’s high-seat turned his eyes.
Meanwhile in Jason’s heart did thoughts arise,
That brought the treacherous blood into his cheek,
And he forgot his father, old and weak,
Left ‘twixt the fickle people of the land
And wily Pelias, while he clenched his hand,
As though it held a sword, about his cup.
Then, ‘mid the murmuring, Pelias stood up
And said: O, leaders of the Minyæ,
I hear ye name a name right dear to me
My brother’s son, who in the oaken wood
Has grown up nurtured of the Centaur good,
And now this day has come again to us,
Fair faced and mighty limbed, and amorous
Of fame and glorious deed is nowise content
Betwixt the forest and the northern bent
To follow up the antlers of the deer,
Nor in his eyes can I see any fear
Of fire, or water, or the cleaving sword.
Now, therefore, if ye take him for your lord
To lead across the sea, all ye shall get
Both fame and wealth, nor shall men soon forget
To praise the noble city whence ye came,
Passing from age to age each hero’s name.
UPROSE the men; forth went a mighty shout,
And ere the sound of Jason’s name died out
The king reached forth to him a cup of gold,
And said: O Jason, wilt thou well behold
These leaders of the people who are fain
To go with thee and suffer many a pain
And deadly fear, if they may win at last
Undying fame when fleeting life is past?
And now, if thou art willing to be first
Of all these men, of whom indeed, the worst
Is like a God, pour out this gleaming wine
To him with whose light all the heavens shine,
Almighty Jove. Then Jason poured, and said:
O Jove, by thy hand may all these be led
To name and wealth! and yet indeed, for me
What happy ending shall I ask from thee?
What helpful friends? what length of quiet years?
What freedom from ill care and deadly fears?
Do what thou wilt, but none the less believe
That all these things and more thou shouldst receive,
If thou wert Jason, I were Jove to-day.
And ye who now are hot to play this play,
Seeking the Fleece across an unknown sea,
Bethink ye yet of death and misery,
And dull despair, before ye arm to go
Unto a savage king and folk none know,
Whence it may well hap none again shall come
To see his children, and his fathers’ home.
And do thou, Pelias, ere we get us forth,
Send heralds out, east, west, and south, and north,
And with them cunning men of golden speech,
Thy tale unto the Grecian folk to teach;
That we may lack for neither strength nor wit,
For many a brave man like a fool will sit
Beside the council board; and men there are
Wise-hearted who know little, feats of war:
Nor would I be without the strength of spears,
Or waste wise words on dull and foolish ears.
Also we need a wright, a master wise,
Taught by the Gods more wit than men devise,
To build us a good ship upon this shore.
Then, if but ten lay hold upon the oar,
And I, the eleventh, steer them toward the east,
To seek the hidden Fleece of that gold beast,
I swear to Jove that only in my hand
The fleece shall be, when I again take land
To see my father’s hall, or the green grass
O’er which the grey Thessalian horses pass.
But now O friends forget all, till the morn
With other thoughts and fears is duly born!
He ceased, and all men shouted; and again
They filled their cups, and many a draught did drain.
But Pelias gazed with heedful eyes at him,
Nor drank the wine that well-nigh touched the brim
Of his gold cup; and noting every word,
Thought well that he should be a mighty lord,
For now already like a king he spoke,
Gazing upon the wild tumultuous folk
As one who knows what troubles are to come,
And in this world looks for no peaceful home
So much he dreaded what the Gods might do.
But Aeson, when he first heard Pelias, knew
What wile was stirring, and he sat afeard,
With sinking heart, as all the tale he heard;
But after hearkening what his son did say,
He deemed a God spoke through him on that day,
And held his peace; yet to himself he said:
And if he wins all, still shall I be dead
Ere on the shore he stands beside the Fleece,
The greatest and most honoured man of Greece.
But Jason, much rejoicing in his life,
Drank and was merry, longing for the strife;
Though in his heart he did not fail to see
His uncle’s cunning wiles and treachery;
But thought, when sixty years are gone at most,
Then will all pleasure and all pain be lost;
Although my name, indeed, be east about
From hall to temple, amid song and shout:
So let me now be merry with the best.
MEANWHILE, all men spoke hotly of the quest,
And many a champion ‘mid the wine did hail,
Till waned the moon, and all the stars grew pale,
And from the east faint yellow light outshone
O’er the Greek sea, so many years agone.
LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK III.
The Argonauts called together.
NOW the next morn, when risen was the sun,
Men ‘gan to busk them for the quest begun;
Nor long delay made Pelias, being in fear
Lest aught should stay them; so his folk did bear
News of these things throughout the towns of Greece,
Moving great men to seek the Golden Fleece.
Therefore, from many a lordship forth they rode,
Leaving both wife and child and loved abode,
And many a town must now be masterless,
And women’s voices rule both more and less,
And women’s hands be dreaded, far and wide,
This fair beginning of the summer-tide.
NOW, all the folk who went upon this quest
I cannot name, but fain would hope the best
In men’s remembrance ancient tales did keep
Unto our time, letting the others sleep
In nameless graves, though mayhap, one by one,
These grew to be forgotten ‘neath the sun,
Being neither poor of heart, or weak of wit,
More than those others whose crowned memories sit
Enthroned amid the echoing minstrelsy
Sung of old time beside the Grecian sea.
Howe’er it be, now clinging to the hem
Of those old singers, will I tell of them,
In weak and faltering voice, e’en as I can.
NOW was the well-skilled Argus the first man
Who through the gates into Iolchos passed,
Whose lot in fertile Egypt first was cast,
The nurse of Gods and wonder-working men;
His father’s name was Danaus, who till then
Had held the golden rod above the Nile,
Feared by all men for force and deadly wile.
So he, being brought to Jason, said: O King,
Me have the Gods sent here to do the thing
Ye need the most; for often have I seen,
‘Twixt sleep and waking, one clad like a queen,
With beams of light about her glorious head,
And ever hath she spoken words, and said,
Argus arise, when dawn is on the earth,
And go unto a city great of girth
Men call Iolchos, and there ask for one
Who now gets ready a great race to run
Upon a steed whose maker thou shalt be,
Whose course is but the bitter trackless sea,
Jason, the king’s son, now himself a king;
And bid him hearken by this tokening,
That I, who send thee to him, am the same
Who in the greenwood bade him look for fame
That he desired but little; and am she
Who, when the eddies rushed tumultuously
About us, bore him to the river side:
And unto thee ‘shall such-like things betide.
Therewith she gave me craft and wisdom great
About this keel for which your quest doth wait,
Bidding me take thee for nay king and lord,
And thee to heed my counsel as her word
In all this craft. So if ye would set forth
Before the winter takes us from the north,
I pray you let there be at my commands
Such men as are most skilful of their hands,
Nor spare to take lintel, rooftree, or post
Of ash or pine or oak that helpeth most,
From whoso in this city lacketh gold;
And chiefly take the post that doth uphold
The second rafter in the royal hall,
That I may make the good ship’s prow withal,
For soothly from Dodona doth it come,
Though men forget it, the grey pigeons’ home.
So look to see a marvel, and forthright
Set on the smiths the sounding-brass to smite,
For surely shall all ye your armour need
Before these blossom-buds have turned to seed.
Then Jason gave him thanks and gifts enow,
And through the town sought all who chanced to know
The woodwright’s craft, by whom was much begun,
Whilst he took gifts of wood-from many an one,
And getting timber with great gifts of gold,
Spared not to take the post that did uphold
The second rafter in the royal hall
To make the new ship’s goodly prow withal.
SO Argus laboured, and the work was sped
Moreover, by a man with hoary head
Whose dwelling and whose name no man could know,
Who many a secret of the craft did show,
And ‘mid their work, men gazed at him askance,
Half fearful of his reverend piercing glance,
But did his bidding; yet knew not indeed,
It was the Queen of Heaven, and Saturn’s seed.
MEANWHILE came many heroes to the town :
Asterion, dweller on the windy down
Below Philæus, far up in the north;
Slow-footed Polyphemus, late borne forth
In chariot from Larissa, that beholds
Green-girt Peneus cleaving fertile wolds.
Erginus, son of Neptune; nigh the sea
His father set him, where the laden bee
Flies low across Mæander, and falls down
Against the white walls of a merchant town
Men call Miletus. Behind him there came
The winner of a great and dreaded name,
Theseus, the slayer of the fearful beast
Who soon in winding hails should make his feast
On youths and maidens; and with him there rode
The king Pirithous; who his loved abode
Amid the shady trees, had left that tide,
Where fly the centaurs’ arrows far and wide.
Black-haired was Theseus, slim, and still his cheek
Lacked all but down, for yet he had to seek
The winding ways of Daedalus the old;
But long and twining locks of ruddy gold
Blew round the face of the huge forest king,
As carelessly he rode and feared no thing.
Great joy had Jason, gazing on the twain,
Young though they were, and thought that not in vain
His quest should be, if such as these had will
The hollow of his great black ship to fill.
Next, threading Argive ways and woody lanes,
Came Nauplius, son of Neptune, to those plains,
Crossing Anaurus dryshod, for his sire
With threats and blows drove up the land-stream higher,
And sucked the sea-waves back across the sands:
With him came Idmon, mighty of his hands,
But mightier yet that he was skilled to know
The counsel of the God who bears the bow,
His very father, who bore not to see
Unloved, Cyrene wandering carelessly
Beside Peneus; Iolaus came
From Argos, too, to win a deathless name;
And if thenceforth came any heroes more
I know not, and their names have died of yore.
BUT from Arcadian forests came forth one
Who like a goddess ‘mid the rowers shone,
Swift-running Atalanta, golden-haired,
Grey-eyed, and simple; with her white limbs bared,
And sandalled feet set firm upon the sand,
Amid the wondering heroes did she stand
A very maid, yet fearing not for aught;
For she, with many a vow, had dearly bought
Diana’s love, and in no flowery stead
Had borne to hear love-songs, or laid her head
On any trembling lover’s heaving breast;
Therefore of mortals was she loved the best
By Her, who through the forest goes a-nights,
And in return for never-tried delights,
Has won a name no woman else can have.
NEXT through the gates his car Oileus drave,
The Locrian king, red-haired, with fierce grey eyes
Wandering from right to left, as though some prize
He sought for in the rich Thessalian land:
Then Iphiclus beside the gates did stand,
His kine at all adventure left at home,
That on a doubtful voyage he might roam.
Admetus from the well-walled Pheræ came,
Longing to add new glory to the fame
Of him whose flocks Apollo once did keep;
And then Echion, who would nowise sleep
Amid Ephesian roses, or behold
Betwixt gold cups and lovely things of gold
The white limbs of the dancing-girl, her hair
Swung round her dainty loins and bosom bare;
But needs must try the hollow-sounding sea,
As herald of the heroes; nor was he
Left by his brother Eurytus the strong.
Neither did Cæneus, the Magnesian, long
Less than the others strange new lands to see,
Though wondrous things were told of him: that he,
Once woman, now was man by Neptune’s aid,
And thus had won a long-desired maid.
From nigh Larissa came Aetalides,
Leaving a plain well-watered, set with trees,
That feeds much woolly sheep and lowing neat
And knoweth well the dancing maiden’s feet.
Mopsus, like Idmon, knew of things to come,
And had in Lipara a rocky home.
Eurydamas, tired of the peaceful lake
Of Xynias, was come for Jason’s sake
To lay his well-skilled hands upon the oar,
Dealing with greater waves than heretofore.
Menœtius, son of Actor, from the land
Where swift Asopus runs through stones and sand,
Bridged by the street of Opus, next was seen,
Eribotes, who through the meadows green
Would wander oft to seek what helpeth man,
Yet cannot cure his lust, through waters wan
To seek for marvels, cometh after him.
Then a rich man, grown old, but strong of limb,
Eurytion, son of Iras, leaveth now
His husbandmen still following of the plough
In the fat Theban meadows, while he goes,
