The Life and Death of Jason by William Morris - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)

William Morris, Delphi Classics

• Publisher: Delphi Classics (Parts Edition)
• Year: 2017
• eBook ISBN: 9781788777100
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

This eBook features the unabridged text of 'The Life and Death of Jason by William Morris - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)' from the bestselling edition of 'The Complete Works of William Morris'.

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LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XVII.

Jason at Corinth. The wedding of Glauce. The death of Jason.

SO ends the Winning of the Golden Fleece;
So ends the tale of that sweet rest and peace
That unto Jason and his love befell;
Another story now my tongue must tell,
And tremble in the telling. Would that I
Had but some portion of that mastery
That from the rose-hung lanes of woody Kent
Through these five hundred years such songs have sent
To us, who, meshed within this smoky net
Of unrejoicing labour, love them yet.
And thou, O Master!...Yea, my Master still,
Whatever feet have scaled Parnassus’ hill,
Since like thy measures, clear and sweet and strong,
Thames’ stream scarce fettered drave the dace along
Unto the bastioned bridge, his only chain…
O Master, pardon me, if yet in vain
Thou art my Master, and I fail to bring
Before men’s eyes the image of the thing
My heart is filled with: thou whose dreamy eyes
Beheld the flush to Cressid’s cheeks arise,
When Troilus rode up the praising street,
As clearly as they saw thy townsmen meet
Those who in vineyards of Poictou withstood
The glittering horror of the steel-topped wood.
TEN years have passed, since in the market-place
The hero stood with flushed and conquering face,
And life before him like one happy day;
But many an hour thereof has passed away
In mingled trouble and felicity.
And now at Corinth, kissed by either sea,
He dwells, not governed now nor governing,
Since there his kinsman Creon is a king.
And with him still abides the Colchian
But little changed, since o’er the waters wan
She gazed upon the mountains that she knew
Still lessening as the plunging Argo flew
Over the billows on the way to Greece.
But in these ten sweet years of rest and peace
Two fair man-children hath she borne to him,
Who, joyous fair of face and strong of limb,
Full oft shall hear the glorious story told
Of Argo and the well-won Fleece of Gold,
By some old mariner; and oft shall go
Where nigh the sea the wind-swept beech-trees grow,
And with a grey old woman tending them,
Shall make an Aea of some beech-tree’s stem,
About whose roots there stands the water black.
Nor of the fleece shall they have any lack,
For in the bushes hangs much tangled wool
From wandering sheep who seek the shadow cool;
And for the dragon shall there be thereby
A many-coloured snake with glazed dull eye,
Slain by the shepherd; so shall pass their days,
Whom folk look soon to gather wealth and praise.
AND ‘midst these living things has Argo found
A home here also; on the spot of ground
‘Twixt Neptune’s temple and the eastern sea,
She looks across the waves unceasingly;
And as their ridges draw on towards the land,
The winds tell stories of the kingly band.
There, with the fixed and unused oars spread out,
She lies amidst the ghosts of song and shout,
And merry laughter, that were wont to fill
Her well-built hollow, slowly dying still,
Like all that glorious company of kings
Who in her did such well-remembered things.
But as the day comes round when o’er the seas
She darted ‘twixt the blue Symplegades,
And when again she rushed across the bar,
With King Aeetes following her afar,
And when at length the heroes laid adown
The well-worn oars at old King Aeson’s town,
When, year by year, these glorious days come round,
Bright with gay garments is that spot of ground,
And the grey rocks that o’ertop Cenchreæ
Send echoes of sweet singing o’er the sea.
For then the keel the maidens go about
Singing the songs of Orpheus, and the shout
Of rough-voiced sea-folk endeth every song;
And then from stem to stern they hang along
Garlands of flowers, and all the oars they twine
With garlands too, and cups of royal wine
Cast o’er her bows; and at the stern a maid
Handles the tiller, she being all arrayed
In Juno’s fashion; while anigh the stem
Stands one with wings and many-coloured hem
About her raiment, like the messenger
Who bears the high Gods’ dreadful words with her,
And through the sea of old that stem did lead.
LO, in such wise they honoured that great deed,
But Jason did they reverence as a God;
And though his kinsman bore the ivory rod
And golden circlet, little could he do
Unless the great Thessalian willed it too.
Yet therefore Creon nowise bore him hate,
But reverencing the wise decrees of fate,
Still honoured him the more; and therewith thought,
Would that this man by some means might be brought
To wed my daughter; since when I am dead,
By none but him the people shall be led.
And on this thought he brooded more and more,
And ‘gan to hate the Colchian very sore,
And through the place, as lightly he might do,
He spread ill tales of false things and of true,
And unto Jason’s self such words did say
As well he thought might turn his heart away
From faith and truth; and as such words will come,
When wise men speak them, to a ready home,
So here they did; though soothly for his part,
He knew it not, nor yet his restless heart.
BUT on a day it fell that as they sat
In Creon’s porch, and talked of this or that,
The king spake: Yea no dread thy strong heart bears,
But is it that no whisper yet it hears
Of what the Gods may do for Pelias?
Nay, Jason said, let what will come to pass!
His day is past and mine is flourishing;
But doubtless is an end to everything,
And soon or late each man shall have his day.
Then said the king: Neither did thine hand slay
The man thyself, or bring his death about;
Each man shall bear his own sin without doubt.
Yet do I bid thee watch and take good heed
Of what the Colchian’s treacheries may breed.
Then quickly Jason turned his head around
And said: What is there dwelling above ground
That loveth me as this one loveth me?
O Creon! I am honoured here as thee;
All do my will as if a God I were;
Scar...

Table of contents

• Title page
• WILLIAM MORRIS
• COPYRIGHT
• William Morris: Parts Edition
• Parts Edition Contents
• The Life and Death of Jason
• CONTENTS
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK I.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK II.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK III.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK IV.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK V.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK VI.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK VII.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK VIII.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK IX.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK X.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XI.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XII.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XIII.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XIV.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XV.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XVI.
• LIFE AND DEATH OF JASON: BOOK XVII.
• The Delphi Classics Catalogue