For surely mayst thou lean upon me, when

  The turbulent and little-reasoning throng

  Press hard upon thee, or a king with wrong

  Would fain undo thee, as thou leanedst now

  Within the yellow stream: so from no blow

  Hold back thine hand, nor fear to set thine heart

  On what thou deemest fits thy kingly part.

  Now to the king’s throne this day draw anear,

  Because of old time have I set a fear

  Within his heart, ere yet thou hadst gained speech,

  And whilst thou wanderedst beneath oak and beech

  Unthinking. And, behold! so have I wrought,

  That with thy coming shall a sign be brought

  Unto him; for the latchet of thy shoe

  Rushing Anaurus late I bade undo,

  Which now is carried swiftly to the sea.

  So Pelias, this day setting eyes on thee,

  Shall not forget the shameful trickling blood

  Adown my altar-steps, or in my wood

  The screaming peacocks scared by other screams,

  Nor yet to-night shall he dream happy dreams.

  Farewell then, and be joyful, for I go,

  Unto the people many a thing to show,

  And set them longing for forgotten things,

  Whose rash hands toss about the crowns of kings.

  THEREWITH before his eyes a cloud there came,

  Sweet-smelling, coloured like a rosy flame,

  That wrapt the Goddess from him; who, indeed,

  Went to Iolchos, and there sowed the seed

  Of bitter change, that ruins kings of men;

  For, like an elder of threescore and ten,

  Throughout the town she went, and, as such do,

  Ever she blessed the old, and banned the new,

  Lamenting for the passed and happy reign

  Of Cretheus, wishing there were come again

  One like to him; till in the market-place

  About the king was many a doubtful face.

  NOW Jason, by Anaurus left alone,

  Found that, indeed, his right-foot shoe was gone.

  But, as the Goddess bade him, went his way

  Half shod, and by an hour before mid-day

  He reached the city gates, and entered there,

  Whom the folk mocked, beholding his foot bare,

  And iron-hiked sword, and uncouth weed;

  But of no man did he take any heed,

  But came into the market-place, where thronged

  Much folk round him by whom his sire was wronged.

  But when he stood within that busy stead,

  Taller he showed than any by a head,

  Great limbed, broad shouldered, mightier far than all,

  But soft of speech, though unto him did fall

  Full many a scorn upon that day to get.

  So in a while he came where there was set

  Pelias the king, judging the people there;

  In scarlet was he clad, and o’er his hair;

  Sprinkled with grey, he wore a royal crown,

  And from an ivory throne he looked adown

  Upon the suitors and the restless folk.

  NOW, when the yellow head of Jason broke

  From out the throng, with fearless eyes and grey,

  A terror took the king, which ere that day

  For many a peaceful year he had not felt,

  And his hand fell upon his swordless belt;

  But when the hero strode up to the throne,

  And set his unshod foot upon the stone

  Of the last step thereof, and as he stood,

  Drew off the last fold of his russet hood,

  And with a dang let fall his brass-bound spear,

  The king shrunk back, grown pale with deadly fear;

  Nor then the oak-trees’ speech did he forget,

  Noting the one bare foot, and garments wet,

  And something half remembered in his face.

  And now nigh silent was the crowded place,

  For through the folk remembrance Juno sent,

  And soon from man to man a murmur went,

  And frowning folk were whispering deeds of shame

  And wrong the king had wrought, and Aeson’s name,

  Forgotten long, was bandied all about,

  And silent mouths seemed ready for a shout.

  So, when the king raised up a hand, that shook

  With fear, and turned a wrathful, timorous look

  On his Aetolian guards, upon his ears

  There fell the clashing of the people’s spears;

  And on the house-tops round about the square

  Could he behold folk gathered here and there,

  And see the sunbeams strike on brass and steel.

  But therewithal, though new fear did he feel,

  He thought, Small use of arms in this distress,

  Needs is it that I use my wiliness;

  Then spoke aloud: O, young man, what wouldst thou,

  Who hast not learned before a king to bow?

  PELIAS, he said, I will not call thee king,

  Because thy crown is but a stolen thing,

  And with a stolen sceptre dost thou reign,

  Which now I bid thee render up again,

  And on his father’s throne my father set,

  Whom for long years the Gods did well forget,

  But now, in lapse of time, remembering,

  Have raised me, Jason, up to do this thing,

  His son, and son of fair Alcimide;

  Yet now, since Tyro’s blood ‘twixt thee and me

  Still runs, and thou my father’s brother art,

  In no wise would I hurt thee, for my part,

  If thou wilt render to us but our own,

  And still shalt thou stand nigh my father’s throne.

  THEN all the people, when aright they knew,

  That this was Aeson’s son, about them drew,

  And when he ended gave a mighty shout;

  But Pelias cleared his face of fear and doubt,

  And answered Jason, smiling cunningly:

  YEA, in good time thou comest dunto me,

  My nephew Jason; fain would I lay down

  This heavy weight and burden of a crown,

  And have instead my brother’s love again,

  Which once I lost to win a trouble vain;

  And yet, since now thou showest me such goodwill,

  Fain would I be a king a short while still,

  That I may set all things in order due,

  Lest there be some who should my going rue:

  Be thou beside me still, my brother’s son,

  And count the day of fear and trouble done.

  But for thy father Aeson will I send,

  That I may see him as a much-loved friend,

  Now that these years of bitterness are passed,

  And peaceful days are come to me at last.

  WITH that, from out the press grave Aeson came,

  E’en as he spoke; for to his ears the fame

  Of Jason’s coming thither had been brought;

  Wherefore, with eager eyes his son he sought;

  But, seeing the mighty hero great of limb,

  Stopped short, with eyes set wistfully on him,

  While a false honied speech the king began:

  Hail, brother Aeson, hail, O happy man!

  To-day thou winnest back a noble son,

  Whose glorious deeds this fair hour sees begun,

  And from my hands thou winnest back the crown

  Of this revered and many-peopled town;

  So let me win from thee again thy love,

  Nor with long anger slight the Gods above.

  THEN Jason, holding forth the horn and ring,

  Said to his father, Doubtest thou this thing?

  Behold the tokens Chiron gave to me

  When first he said that I was sprung from thee.

  Then little of those signs did Aeson reck,

  But cast his arms about the hero’s neck,

  And kissed him oft, remembering well the time

  When as he sat beneath the flowering lime

  Beside his house, the glad folk to him came

  And said: O King, all honour to thy name,

  That will not perish surely; for thy son

  His royal life this day has just begun.

  Wherefore unto him, like an empty dream,

  The busy place, the king and folk did seem,

  As on that sight at last he set his eyes,

  Prayed for so oft with many a sacrifice;

  And speechless for a while fain must he stand,

  Holding within his hand the mighty hand

  And as the wished-for son he thus beheld,

  Half mournful thoughts of swiftly-gathering eld

  Came thick upon him, till the salt tears ran

  On to the raiment of the goodly man;

  Until at last he said: All honour now

  To Jove and all the Gods! Surely, I know,

  Henceforth my name shall never perish; yet

  But little joy of this man shall I get,

  For through the wide world where will be the king

  Who will not fear him; nor shall anything

  Be strong against him; therefore certainly

  Full seldom will he ride afield with me,

  Nor will he long bear at his father’s board

  To sit, well-known of all, but with his sword

  Will rather burst asunder banded throngs

  Of evil men, healing the people’s wrongs.

  And as for thee, O Pelias, as I may,

  Will I be friend to thee from this same day;

  And since we both of us are growing old,

  And both our lives will soon be as tales told,

  I think perchance that thou wilt let me be,

  To pass these few years in felicity

  That this one brings me. Thereon Pelias said:

  Yea, if I hurt thee ought, then on my head

  Be every curse that thou canst ever think;

  And dying, of an ill draught may I drink,

  For in my mind is nought but wish for rest.

  But on this day, I pray thee, be my guest,

  While yet upon my head I wear the crown,

  Which, ere this morn’s new flowers have dropped adown,

  Thine head shall bear again; for in the hall,

  Upon the floor the fresh-plucked rushes fall,

  Even as we speak, and maids and men bear up

  The kingly service; many a jewelled cup

  And silver platter; and the red fires roar

  About the stalled ox and the woodland boar;

  And wine we have, that ere this youngling’s eyes

  First saw the light, made tears and laughter rise

  Up from men’s hearts, making the past seem dull,

  The future hollow, but the present full

  Of all delights, though quick they pass away;

  And we, who have been foes for many a day,

  Surely, ere evening sees the pitcher dry,

  May yet be friends, and talking lovingly,

  And with our laughter make the pillars ring,

  While this one sits revolving many a thing,

  Saddened by that, which makes us elders glad.

  SUCH good words said he, but the thoughts were bad

  Within his crafty breast; and still he thought

  How best he might be rid of him just brought,

  By sentence of the Gods, upon his head.

  Then moved the kinsmen from the market-stead

  Between a lane of men, who’ ever pressed

  About the princes, and with loud words blessed

  The hero and his race, and thought no shame

  To kiss his skirts; and so at last they came

  Unto the house that rustling limes did shade,

  And thereabout was many a slender maid,

  Who welcomed them with music and sweet song,

  And cast red roses as they went along,

  Before their feet; and therewith brought the three

  Into the palace, where right royally

  Was Jason clad, and seemed a prince indeed.

  So while the harp-string and shrill-piping reed

  Still sounded, trooped the folk unto the feast,

  And all were set to meat, both most and least;

  And when with dainties they were fully fed,

  Then the tall jars and well-sewn goat-skins bled,

  And men grew glad, forgetting every care.

  But first a golden chain and mantle fair

  Pelias did on him; and then, standing up,

  Poured out red wine from a great golden cup,

  Unto the Gods, and prayed to them, and cried,

  LORDS of the World, fair let our bliss abide

  This hour at least, nor let our dear delight

  Be marred by aught, until the silent night

  Has come, and turned to day again, and we

  Wake up once more to joy or misery,

  Or death itself, if so it pleaseth you:

  Is this thing, then, so great a thing to do?

  THEREON folk shouted, and the pipes again

  Breathed through the hall a sweet heart-softening strain,

  And up the hall came lovely damsels, dressed

  In gowns of green, who unto every guest

  Gave a rose garland, nor yet hasted they,

  When this was done, to pass too quick away,

  If here and there an eager hand still held

  By gown or wrist, whom the young prince beheld

  With longing eyes that roved about the hall.

  NOW longer did the cool grey shadows fall,

  And faster drew the sun unto the west,

  And in the field the husbandman, opprest

  With twelve hours’ labour, turned unto his home,

  And to the fold the woolly sheep were come;

  And in the hall the folk began to tell

  Stories of men of old, who bore them well,

  And piteous tales. And Jason in mean while

  Sat listening, as his uncle with a smile,

  Kept pouring many a thing into his ears,

  Now worthy laughter, and now meet for tears.

  Until at last, when twilight was nigh gone,

  And dimly through the place the gold outshone,

  He bade them bring in torches, and while folk

  Blinked on the glare that through the pillars broke,

  He said to Jason: Yet have I to show

  One tale which I were fain that all should know,

  All these about us. Therewith did he call

  The herald, bidding him throughout the hall

  Cry silence for the story of the king.

  AND this being done, and all men listening,

  He spake and said, O noble Minyæ,

  Right prosperous and honoured may ye be;

  When Athamas ruled over Thebes the great,

  Upon his house there fell a heavy fate,

  Making his name a mere byword; for he,

  Being wedded to the noble Nephele,

  Gat on her a bold youth and tender maid,

  Phryxus and Helle; but, being nought afraid

  Of what the righteous Gods’ might do to him,

  And seeing Ino, fair of face and limb

  Beyond all other, needs with her must wed,

  And to that end drove from his royal bed

  Unhappy Nephele, who now must be

  A slave, where once she governed royally;

  While white-foot Ino smiling, sat alone

  By Athamas upon the ivory throne.

  And now, as time went on, did Ino bear

  To Athamas two children hale and fair;

  And therewithal hate grew in her the more

  Against the twain that Nephele once bore,

  Who yet, in spite of all things, day by day

  Grew lovelier as their sad lives wore away;

  Till Ino thought, What help will it have been,

  That through these years I have been called a queen,

  And set gold raiment on my children dear,

  If Athamas should die and leave me here

  Betwixt the people and this Nephele,

  With those she bore ? What then could hap to me

  But death or shame ? for then, no doubt, would reign

  Over this mighty town the children twain;

  With her who once was queen still standing near,

  And whispering fell words in her darlings’ ear.

  And then what profit would it be that they

  Have won through me full many an evil day;

  That Phryxus base and servile deeds doth know,

  Unmeet for lords; that many a shame and woe,

  Helle has borne, and yet is wont to stand,

  Shrinking with fear, before some dreaded hand;

  If still the ending of it must be this,

  That I must die while they live on in bliss,

  And cherish her that first lay in my bed ?

  Nor is there any help till they be dead.

  Then did she fall on many an evil thought,

  And going thence, with threats and money brought

  The women of the land to do this thing:

  In the mid-winter, yea, before the spring

  Was in men’s minds, they took the good seed corn,

  And while their husbands toiled in the dark morn,

  And dreaded nought, they throughly seethed it all;

  Whereby this seeming portent did befall,

  That neither the sweet showers of April-tide,

  Nor the May sunshine gleaming far and wide

  Over the meadows, made their furrows green,

  Nor yet in June was any young shoot seen.

  Then drew the country folk unto the king,

  Weeping and wailing, telling of the thing,

  And praying him to satisfy the God,

  Whoe’er he was, who with this cruel rod

  So smote his wretched people: whereon he

  Bade all his priests inquire solemnly

  What thing had moved the Gods to slay them thus?

  Who, hearing all this story piteous,

  Because their hands had felt Queen Ino’s gold,

  And itched for more, this thing in answer told:

  That great Diana with Queen Nephele

  Was wroth beyond all measure, for that she,

  Being vowed unto the Goddess, none the less

  Cast by the quiver and the girt-up dress,

  To lie with Athamas, in kingly bed;

  Therefore with grief must she redeem her head,

  And though she still should keep her wretched life,

  Yet must she give her children to the knife,

  Or else this dearth should be but happiness

  To what should come, for She would so oppress

 

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