The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now might the Minyæ hoist up to the breeze
Their well-wrought sail, for barren of all trees
The banks were now become, not rising high
Above the deep green stream that sluggishly
Strove with the strenuous Argo's cleaving stem.

So after all their toil was rest to them
A little while, and on the deck they sat,
Not wholly sad, and talked of this and that,
Or watched the fish flit from the ship-side blind,
Or the slim kestrel hanging in the wind,
Or the wild cattle scouring here and there
About the plain; for in a plain they were,
Edged round with hills, with quaggy brooks cleft through,
That 'mid their sedges toward the river drew,
And harboured noisome things, and death to man.
But looking up stream, the green river ran
Unto their eyes, from out the mountain high,
For 'twixt no pass could they behold the sky,
Though at the mountain's foot, far through the plain,
They saw the wandering water shine again,
Then vanish wholly, therefore through their ease,
With fear did they the jealous Gods appease.

Natheless, for two days did they speed along,
Not toiling aught, and cheered with tale and song;

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But the third noonday, bringing them anear
The mountains, turned to certain grief their fear;
For now they saw the stream grown swift but deep
Come from a cavern in the mountain steep,
Nor would it help them aught upon that tide
To heave the swift ship out on either side,
For all that plain the mountain ridge bestrode,
And scarcely could a horseman find a road
Through any pass into the further land.

Then 'mid the downcast men did Jason stand,
And lifting up his voice, said: “Minyæ,
Why right and left upon this plain look ye,
Where dwell but beasts or beast-like men alone?
Look rather to that heap of rugged stone,
Pierced with the road that leadeth to the north.
Yea, if from very hell this stream run forth,
Let us go thither, bearing in our hands
This golden hard-won marvel of all lands.
Yet, since not death it bears, but living things,
Shall we not reach thereby the sea that rings
The whole world round, and so make shift to reach
Sunny Eubœa, and fair Argo beach
Before Iolchos, having lost no whit
Of all our gains? Or else here must we sit
Till hunger slays us on some evil day,
Or wander till our raiment falls away
From off our bodies, and we, too, become
Like those ye saw, not knowing any home,
Voiceless, desiring nought but daily food,
And seeking that like beasts within the wood,
Each for himself. And all our glory gone,
Our names but left upon some carven stone
In Greece, still growing fainter day by day.
And this work wrought within the sunny bay,
Nor yet without the help of Gods, shall lie
A wonder to the wild beasts passing by,
While on her fallen masts the sedge-birds sing,

156

Unseen of men, a clean forgotten thing.”

So spake he, setting courage in their hearts
To try the unknown dark, and to their parts
All gat them swiftly, and they struck the mast,
And deftly steered from out the sunlight, passed
Into the cold bat-haunted cavern low,
And thrusting out with poles, made shift to go
Against the stream, that with a hollow sound
Smote Argo's stem. Then Jason, looking round,
Trembled himself, for now, indeed, he thought,
Though to the toiling heroes he said nought:
“What do we, if this cavern narrows now,
Or over falls these burrowing waters flow,
And drive us back again into the sun,
Cursing the day this quest was first begun,
Or somewhat traps us here, as well it may,
And ends us all, far from the light of day?”

Therewith he bade them light the torches up,
And to the mountain Gods to pour a cup,
And one unto the river Gods, and each
For the new daylight every God beseech,
And speedily to pierce the mountain through.
So from the torches trains of sparkles flew,
And strangely flashed their arms in that dark place,
And white and haggard showed each anxious face
Against those dripping walls of unknown stone.

But now in Jason's hand the cup outshone,
Full of red wine, pressed by the Grecian sea,
And lifting high his hand, he cried: “O ye,
Both Gods and nymphs who in this wild land dwell,
In hill or river, henceforth may ye tell
How through your midst have passed the Minyæ;
And if, ye helping, the cold northern sea
We safely reach, and our desired home,
Thither the fame and fear of you shall come,
And there a golden-pillared house shall stand,
Unto our helpers in this savage land.

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Nor when we reach the other side of this
Grim cavern, due observance shall ye miss,
For whatso on the teeming plain we snare,
Slain with due rites shall smoke before you there.”

So spake he, and twice poured the fragrant wine;
But they, well-pleased to have the gift divine,
And noting well his promises, took heed
Unto his prayers, and gave the heroes speed.
Then Jason straightway bade more torches light,
And Argo pushed along, flared through the night
Of the dank cavern, and the dull place rang
With Grecian names, as loud the heroes sang,
For hope had come into their hearts at last.