"Make haste, Prince Jason! For your life, make haste!" With one bound he leaped aboard. At sight of the glorious radiance of the Golden Fleece, the nine and forty heroes gave a mighty shout, and Orpheus, striking his harp, sang a song of triumph, to the cadence of which the galley flew over the water, homeward bound, as if careering along with wings!
MEDEA'S LOVE AND VENGEANCE.
(From "The Life and Death of Jason.")
[WILLIAM MORRIS, English poet and art reformer, was born March 24, 1834; educated at Oxford, and was one of the Preraphaelites. His best-known poem is "The Earthly Paradise"; he has also written "The Defense of Guinevere,' "The Life and Death of Jason," "Sigurd the Volsung," "The Fall of the Niblungs," and smaller ones. In prose he wrote "The House of the Wolfings," "The Glittering Plain," etc. He founded a manufactory of household decorations to reform public taste, and a printing house for artistic typography. He was also a fervent Socialist. He died October 3, 1896.]
TURNING to Jason, spake the king these words: - "Behold! O Prince, for threescore years and seven Have I dwelt here in bliss, nor dare I give The fleece to thee, lest I should cease to live; Nor dare I quite this treasure to withhold, Lest to the Gods I seem grown overbold:
For many a cunning man I have, to tell Divine foreshowings of the oracle,
And thus they warn me. Therefore shalt thou hear What well may fill a hero's heart with fear; But not from my old lips; that thou mayst have, Whether thy life thou here wilt spill or save, At least one joy before thou comest to die:- Ho ye, bid in my lady presently!"
At the door a band of maids was seen, Who went up towards the dais, a lovely queen Being in their midst, who, coming nigh the place Where the king sat, passed at a gentle pace Alone before the others to the board, And said: "Eetes, father, and good lord, What is it thou wouldst have of me to-night ?"
"O daughter," said Eetes, "tell aright Unto this king's son here, who is my guest, What things he must accomplish, ere his quest Is finished, who has come this day to seek The golden fell brought hither by the Greek, The son of Athamas, the unlucky king, That he may know at last for what a thing He left the meadowy land and peaceful stead." Then she to Jason turned her golden head, And reaching out her lovely arm, took up From off the board a rich fair jeweled cup,
And said, "O prince, these hard things must ye do."
[See "The Golden Fleece" for the tasks set him.]
If these three things be not impossible To any man, and make a bloodless end Of this thy quest, and as my father's friend Well gifted, in few days return in peace, Lacking for nought, forgetful of the fleece.
Therewith she made an end; but while she spoke Came Love unseen, and cast his golden yoke About them both, and sweeter her voice grew,
And softer ever, as betwixt them flew,
With fluttering wings, the new-born, strong desire; And when her eyes met his gray eyes, on fire
With that that burned her, then with sweet new shame
Her fair face reddened, and there went and came Delicious tremors through her. But he said,- "A bitter song thou singest, royal maid,
Unto a sweet tune; yet doubt not that I To-morrow this so certain death will try;
And dying, may perchance not pass unwept, And with sweet memories may my name be kept, That men call Jason of the Minya."
Then said she, trembling, "Take, then, this of me, And drink in token that thy life is passed, And that thy reckless hand the die has cast." Therewith she reached the cup to him, but he Stretched out his hand, and took it joyfully, As with the cup he touched her dainty hand, Nor was she loath, awhile with him to stand, Forgetting all else in that honeyed pain.
At last she turned, and with head raised again He drank, and swore for nought to leave that quest Till he had reached the worst end or the best;
And down the hall the clustering Minyæ Shouted for joy his godlike face to see. But she, departing, made no further sign
Of her desires, but, while with song and wine They feasted till the fevered night was late,
Within her bower she sat, made blind by fate. . . .
[She works sorceries in the woods during the night to save Jason's life.]
But toward the river did she turn again, Not heeding the rough ways or any pain, But running swiftly came unto her boat, And in the mid stream soon was she afloat, Drawn onward toward the town by flood of tide. Nor heeded she that by the river side Still lay her golden shoes, a goodly prize To some rough fisher in whose sleepy eyes
They first should shine, the while he drew his net Against the yew wood of the Goddess set.
But she, swept onward by the hurrying stream, Down in the east beheld a doubtful gleam That told of dawn; so bent unto the oar
In terror lest her folk should wake before
Her will was wrought; nor failed she now to hear From neighboring homesteads shrilly notes and clear Of waking cocks, and twittering from the sedge
Of restless birds about the river's edge;
And when she drew between the city walls,
She heard the hollow sound of rare footfalls
From men who needs must wake for that or this While upon sleepers gathered dreams of bliss,
Or great distress at ending of the night,
And gray things colored with the gathering light. At last she reached the gilded water gate,
And though nigh breathless, scarce she dared to wait To fasten up her shallop to the stone,
Which yet she dared not leave; so this being done Swiftly by passages and stairs she ran, Trembling and pale, though not yet seen by man, Until to Jason's chamber door she came.
And there awhile indeed she stayed, for shame Rose up against her fear; but mighty love And the sea-haunting, rose-crowned seed of Jove O'ermastered both; so trembling, on the pin She laid her hand, but ere she entered in She covered up again her shoulder sweet, And dropped her dusky raiment o'er her feet;
Then entering the dimly lighted room,
Where with the lamp dawn struggled, through the gloom, Seeking the prince she peered, who sleeping lay
Upon his gold bed, and abode the day
Smiling, still clad in arms, and round his sword His fingers met; then she, with a soft word, Came nigh him, and from out his slackened hand With slender rosy fingers drew the brand, Then kneeling, laid her hand upon his breast, And said: "O Jason, wake up from thy rest, Perchance from thy last rest, and speak to me." Then fell his light sleep from him suddenly, And on one arm he rose, and clenched his hand, Raising it up, as though it held the brand, And on this side and that began to stare. But bringing close to him her visage fair, She whispered:-
"Smite not, for thou hast no sword,
Speak not above thy breath, for one loud word
May slay both thee and me.
What day thou knowest! Canst thou see my face? Last night thou didst behold it with such eyes,
That I, Medea, wise among the wise,
The safeguard of my father and his land, Who have been used with steady eyes to stand
In awful groves along with Hecate,
Henceforth must call myself the bond of thee, The fool of love; speak not, but kiss me, then, Yea, kiss my lips, that not the best of men Has touched ere thou. Alas, quick comes the day! Draw back, but hearken what I have to say, For every moment do I dread to hear
Thy wakened folk, or our folk drawing near; Therefore I speak as if with my last breath, Shameless, beneath the shadowing wings of death, That still may let us twain again to meet, And snatch from bitter love the bitter sweet That some folk gather while they wait to die. "Alas, I loiter, and the day is nigh! Soothly I came to bring thee more than this, The memory of an unasked fruitless kiss Upon thy death day, which this day would be If there were not some little help in me."
Therewith from out her wallet did she draw The phial, and a crystal without flaw
Shaped like an apple, scored with words about, Then said: "But now I bid thee have no doubt. With this oil hidden by these gems and gold Anoint thine arms and body, and be bold, Nor fear the fire-breathing bulls one whit, Such mighty virtue have I drawn to it,
Whereof I give thee proof." Therewith her hand She thrust into the lamp flame that did stand Anigh the bed, and showed it him again. Unscarred by any wound or drawn with pain, Then said:
"Now, when Mars' plain is plowed at last And in the furrows those ill seeds are cast, Take thou this ball in hand and watch the thing; Then shalt thou see a horrid crop upspring Of all-armed men therefrom to be thy bane, Were I not here to make their fury vain. Draw not thy sword against them as they rise, But cast this ball amid them, and their eyes Shall serve them then but little to see thee, And each of others' weapons slain shall be.
"Now will my father hide his rage at heart, And praise thee much that thou hast played thy part, And bid thee to a banquet on this night, And pray thee wait until to-morrow's light Before thou triest the Temple of the Fleece. Trust not to him, but see that unto Greece The ship's prow turns, and all is ready there. And at the banquet let thy men forbear The maddening wine, and bid them arm them all For what upon this night may chance to fall.
"But I will get by stealth the keys that hold The seven locks which guard the Fleece of Gold; And while we try the fleece, let thy men steal, How so they may, unto thy ready keel, Thus art thou saved alive with thy desire.
"But what thing will be left to me but fire? The fire of fierce despair within my heart, The while I reap my guerdon for my part, Curses and torments, and in no long space Real fire of pine wood in some rocky place, Wreathing around my body greedily, A dreadful beacon o'er the leaden sea." 22 But Jason drew her to him, and he said: "Nay, by these tender hands and golden head,
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