Complete works of willia.., p.328
Complete Works of William Morris, page 328
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.
BUT Jason drew her to him, and he said:
Nay, by these tender hands and golden head,
That saving things for me have wrought to-night,
I know not what; by this unseen delight
Of thy fair body, may I rather burn,
Nor may the flame die ever, if I turn
Back to my hollow ship, and leave thee here,
Who in one minute art become so dear,
Thy limbs so longed for, that at last I know
Why men have been content to suffer woe
Past telling, if the Gods but granted this,
A little while such lips as thine to kiss,
A little while to drink thy longing kind.
Ah, wilt thou go? The Day is yet but blind
Amid blind sleepers: long it is meseems
That twilight lingers over fading dreams
‘Twixt dawn and day. O Prince, she said, I came
To save your life. I cast off fear and shame
A little while, but fear and shame are here.
The hand thou holdest trembles with my fear,
With shame my cheeks are burning, and the sound
Of mine own voice: but ere this hour comes round,
We twain will be betwixt the dashing oars,
The ship still making for the Grecian shores.
Farewell till then, though in the lists to-day
Thyself shalt see me watching out the play.
THEREWITH she drew off from him, and was gone,
And in the chamber Jason left alone,
Praising the heavenly one, the Queen of Jove,
Pondered upon this unasked gift of love,
And all the changing wonder of his life.
But soon he rose to fit him for the strife,
And ere the sun his orb began to lift
O’er the dark hills, with fair Medea’s gift
He chafed his body and his weed of war,
And round his neck he hung the spell that bore
Death to the earth-born, the fair crystal ball.
Ready and eager then from wall to wall,
Athwart and endlong clashing did he stride,
Waiting the king’s men and the fateful tide.
MEANWHILE, Medea coming to her room
Unseen, lit up the slowly parting gloom
With scented torches: then bound up her hair,
And stripped the dark gown from her body fair,
And laid it with the brass bowl in a chest,
Where many a day it had been wont to rest,
Brazen and bound with iron, and whose key
No eye but hers had ever happed to see.
Then wearied, on her bed she cast her down,
And strove to think; but soon the uneasy frown
Faded from off her brow, her lips closed tight
But now, just parted, and her fingers white
Slackened their hold upon the coverlet,
And o’er her face faint smiles began to flit,
As o’er the summer pool the faint soft air:
So instant and so kind the God was there.
LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK VIII.
The taming of the brazen bulls — The quelling of the Earth-born.
NOW when she woke again the bright sun glared
In at the window, and the trumpets blared,
Shattering the sluggish air of that hot day,
For fain the king would be upon his way.
Then straight she called her maidens, who forthright
Did due observance to her body white,
And clad her in the raiment of a queen,
And round her crown they set a wreath of green.
But she descending, came into the hall,
And found her father clad in royal pall,
Holding the king’s staff, and with red gold crowned,
And by him Jason and his folk around.
Now was AEetes saying: Minyæ,
And you, my people, who are here by me,
Take heed, that by his wilful act to-day
This man will perish, neither will I slay
One man among you. Nay, Prince, if ye will,
A safe return I give unto you still.
But Jason answered, smiling in his joy: —
Once more AEetes, nay. Against this toy
My life is pledged, let all go to the end.
Then, lifting up his eyes, he saw his friend,
Made fresh and lovelier by her quiet rest,
And set his hand upon his mailed breast,
Where in its covering lay the crystal ball.
But the king said: Then let what will fall, fall!
Since time it is that we were on the way;
And thou, O daughter, shall be there to-day,
And see thy father’s glory once more shown
Before our folk and those the wind has blown
From many lands to see this play played out.
Then raised the Colchian folk a mighty shout,
And doubtful of the end the Minyæ grew,
Unwitting of their faithful friend and true.
But down the hall the king passed, who did hold
Medea’s hand, and on a car of gold
They mounted, drawn anigh the carven door,
And spearmen of the Colchians went before
And followed after, and the Minyæ
Set close together followed solemnly,
Headed by Jason, at the heels of these.
So passed they through the streets and palaces
Thronged with much folk, and o’er the bridges passed,
And to the open country came at last,
Nor there went far, but turning to the right,
Came to a close where round about were dight
Long galleries to hedge the fateful stead,
Built all of marble fair and roofed with lead,
And carven well with stories of old time,
Framed all about with golden lines of rhyme.
Moreover, midmost was an image made
Of mighty Mars who maketh kings afraid,
That looked down on an altar builded fair,
Wherefrom already did a bright fire glare
And made the hot air glassy with its heat.
So in the gallery did the king take seat
With fair Medea, and the Colchians stood
Hedging the twain in with a mighty wood
Of spears and axes, while the Minyæ
Stood off a space the fated things to see.
Ugly and rugged was that spot of ground,
And with an iron wall was closed around,
And at the further end a monstrous cage
Of iron bars, shut in the stupid rage
Of those two beasts, and therefrom ever came
The flashing and the scent of sulphurous flame,
As with their brazen clangorous bellowing
They hailed the coming of the Colchian king;
Nor was there one of the seafaring men
But trembled, gazing on the deadly pen,
But Jason only, who before the rest
Shone like a star, and bore upon his breast
A golden corslet from the treasury
Of wise King Phineus by the doubtful sea,
By an Egyptian wrought who would not stay
At Salmydessa more than for a day,
But on that day the wondrous breast-plate wrought,
Which with good will and strong help Jason bought;
And from that treasury his golden shoe
Came, and his thighs the king’s gift covered too;
But on his head his father’s helm was set
Wreathed round with bay leaves, and his sword lay yet
Within the scabbard, while his ungloved hand
Bore nought within it but an olive wand.
Now King AEetes well beholding him,
Fearless of mien and so unmatched of limb,
Trembled a little in his heart as now
He bade the horn-blowers the challenge blow,
But thought, What strength can help him, or what art,
Or which of all the Gods be on his part?
Impious, who knew not through what doubtful days,
E’en from his birth, and perilous rough ways
Juno had brought him safely, nor indeed
Of his own daughter’s quivering lips took heed,
And restless hands wherein the God so wrought,
The wise man seeing her had known her thought.
Now Jason, when he heard the challenge blow,
Across the evil fallow ‘gan to go
With face beyond its wont in nowise pale,
Nor footstep faltering, if that might avail
The doomed man aught; so to the cage he came,
Whose bars now glowed red hot with spouted flame,
In many a place; nor doubted any one
Who there beheld him that his days were done,
Except his love alone; and even she,
Sickening with doubt and terror, scarce could see
The hero draw the brazen bolt aside
And throw the glowing wicket open wide.
But he alone, apart from his desire,
Stood unarmed, facing those two founts of fire,
Yet feared not aught, for hope and fear were dead
Within his heart, and utter hardihead
Had Juno set there; but the awful beasts
Beholding now the best of all their feasts,
Roared in their joy and fury, till from sight
They and the prince were hidden by the white
Thick-rolling clouds of sulphurous pungent smoke,
Through which upon the blinded man they broke.
But when within a yard of him they came,
Baffled they stopped, still bellowing, and the flame
Still spouting out from nostril and from mouth;
As from some island mountain in the south
The trembling mariners behold it cast;
But still to right and left of him it passed,
Breaking upon him as cool water might,
Nor harming more, except that from his sight
All corners of the cage were hidden now,
Nor knew he where to seek the brazen plough;
As to and fro about the quivering cage
The monsters rushed in blind and helpless rage.
But as he doubted, to his eyes alone
Within the place a golden light outshone,
Scattering the clouds of smoke, and he beheld
Once more the Goddess who his head upheld
In rough Anaurus on that other tide;
She, smiling on him, beckoned and ‘gan glide
With rosy feet across the fearful floor,
Breathing cool odours round her, till a door
She opened to him in the iron wall,
Through which he passed, and found a grisly stall
Of iron still, and at one end of it,
By glimmering lamps with greenish flame half lit,
Beheld the yoke and shining plough he sought;
Which, seizing straight, by mighty strength he brought
Unto the door, nor found the Goddess there;
But she in likeness of a damsel fair,
Colchian Metharma, through the spearmen passed,
Bearing them wine, and causeless terror cast
Into their foolish hearts, nor spared to go
And ‘mid the dose seafaring ranks to sow
Good hope of joyful ending, and then stood
Behind the maid, unseen, and brought the blood
Back to her cheeks and trembling lips and wan,
With thoughts of things unknown to maid or man.
Meanwhile upon the foreheads of the twain
Had Jason cast the yoke with little pain,
And now loud shouting drove them through the door
Which in such guise ne’er had they passed before:
For never were they made the earth to till,
But rather, feeding fat, to work the will
Of some all-knowing man; but now they went
Like any peasant’s beasts, tamed by the scent
Of those new herbs Medea’s hand had plucked,
Whose roots from evil earth strange power had sucked.
Now in the open field did Jason stand
And to the plough-stilts set his unused hand,
And down betwixt them lustily he bent;
Then the bulls drew, and the bright ploughshare sent
The loathly fallow up on the right side,
Whilst o’er their bellowing shrilly Jason cried: —
Draw nigh, O King, and thy new ploughman see,
Then mayst thou make me shepherd-lad to thee;
Nor doubt thou, doing so, from out thy flock
To lose but one, who ne’er shall bring thee stock,
Of ram or ewe; nor doubt the grey wolf, King,
Wood-haunting bear, dragon, or such like thing.
Ah the straight furrow! how it mindeth me
Of the smooth parting of the land-locked sea
Over against Euboea, and this fire
Of the fair altar where my joyful sire
Will pour out wine to Neptune when I come
Not empty-handed back unto my home.
Such mocks he said; but when the sunlight broke
Upon his armour through the sulphurous smoke,
And showed the lengthening furrow cutting through
The ugly farrow as anigh they drew,
The joyful Minyæ gave a mighty shout;
But pale the king sat frowning in his doubt,
Muttering: Whose counsel hast thou taken, then,
To do this thing, which not the best of men
Could do unholpen of some sorcery?
Whoso it is, wise were he now to die
Ere yet I know him, since for many a day
Vainly for death I hope to hear him pray.
Meanwhile, askance Medea eyed the king,
Thinking nought safe until that everything
Was finished in the Colchian land, and she
No more beheld its shores across the sea;
But he, beholding her pale visage, thought
Grief like to his such paleness on her brought,
And turning to her, said: How pale thou art !
Let not this first foil go unto thine heart
Too deeply, since thou knowest certainly,
One way or other this vain fool must die.
Father, she said, a doubt is on me still,
Some God this is come here our wealth to spill:
Nor is this first thing easier than the rest.
Then stammering, she said: Were it not best
To give him that which he at last must have,
Before he slay us? But AEetes gave
A sharp glance at her, and a pang shot through
His weary heart as half the truth he knew.
But for one moment, and he made reply
In passionate words: Then, daughter, let me die!
And, ere I die, beheld thee led along
A wretched slave to suffer grief and wrong
In far-off lands, and AEa at thy back
Nought but a huge flame hiding woe and wrack,
Before from out my willing open hand
This wonder, and the safeguard of my land
A God shall take; and such this man is not.
What! dost thou think because his eyes are hot
On tender maidens he must be a God?
Or that because firmly this field he trod
Well-fenced with magic? Were he like to me,
Grey-haired and lean, what Godhead wouldst thou see
In such an one? Hold, then, thy peace of this,
And thou shalt see thy God full widely miss
The mark he aims at, when from out the earth
Spring up those brothers of an evil birth.
And therewithal he gazed at her, and thought
To see the rosy flush by such words brought
Across her face; as in the autumn eve,
Just as the sun’s last half begins to leave
The shivering world, both east and west are red.
But calm and pale she turned about her head,
And spake: My father, neither were these words
My words, nor would I struggle with my lords;
Thou art full wise; whatso thine heart would have
That do, and heed me not, who fain would save
This glory of thy kingdom and of thee.
But now look up, and soothly thou shall see
Mars’ acre tilled: the field is ready then,
Bid them bring forth the seed that beareth men.
Again with her last words the shouts out-broke
From the seafarers, for, beside the yoke,
Before Mars’ altar did their Jason stand,
Holding the wand of olive in his hand,
And on the new-turned furrow shone the sun
Behind him, and his half-day’s work was done.
And now another marvel: for, behold,
As at the furrow’s end he slacked his hold
Upon the plough-stilts, all the bellowing
Wherewith the beasts had made the grim close ring,
Fell suddenly, and all the wild-fire died
That they were wont erewhile to scatter wide
From mouth and nostril; and their loins and knees
Stiffened, and they grew nought but images
Lifelike but lifeless, wonderful but dead;
Such as he makes, who many a day hath fed
His furnace with the beechwood, when the clay
Has grown beneath his deft hands day by day
And all is ready for the casting; then
Such things as these he makes for royal men.
But ‘mid the shouts turned Jason to the king,
And said: Fair sir, behold a wondrous thing,
And since these beasts have been content to stay
Before Mars’ altar, from this very day
His should they be if they were mine to give.
O Jason, said the king, well mayst thou live
For many a day, since thou this deed hast done,
But for the Gods, not unto any one
Will I give gifts; but let them take from me
What once they gave, if so the thing must be.
But do thou take this sack from out my hand
And cast its seed about the new-tilled land,
