The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III, IV, V, VI. |
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| VII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
She ceased awhile, and therewith Pelias,
With open mouth and eyes as fixed as glass,
Stared at her wondering. Then again she said:
“Awhile ago, when he thou knowest dead,
And he thou thinkest dead, were by thy side,
A crafty wile thou forgedst; at that tide
Telling the tale of Theban Athamas,
And how that Phryxus dead at Æa was:
Thinking (and not in vain) to light the fire
Of glorious deeds, and measureless desire
Of fame within the hearts of men o'erbold.
With open mouth and eyes as fixed as glass,
Stared at her wondering. Then again she said:
“Awhile ago, when he thou knowest dead,
And he thou thinkest dead, were by thy side,
A crafty wile thou forgedst; at that tide
Telling the tale of Theban Athamas,
And how that Phryxus dead at Æa was:
Thinking (and not in vain) to light the fire
Of glorious deeds, and measureless desire
Of fame within the hearts of men o'erbold.
“For thus thou saidst: ‘So is the story told
Of things that happened forty years agone,
Nor of the Greeks has there been anyone
To set the bones of Phryxus in a tomb,
Or mete out to the Colchian his due doom.’
Of things that happened forty years agone,
Nor of the Greeks has there been anyone
To set the bones of Phryxus in a tomb,
Or mete out to the Colchian his due doom.’
“So saidst thou then, and by such words didst drive
Thy nephew in a hopeless game to strive,
Wherefore thou deemest wisely he is dead,
And all the words that he can say are said.”
Thy nephew in a hopeless game to strive,
228
And all the words that he can say are said.”
She ceased again, while pale and shuddering,
Across his eyes the crafty, fearful king
Drew trembling hands. But yet again she spoke:
“What if the Gods by me the strong chain broke
Of thy past deeds, ill deeds wrought not in vain,
And thou with new desires lived yet again?
Durst I still trust thee with my new-gained life?
Who for the rest am not thy brother's wife,
Thy nephew, or thy brother. Be it so.
Yet since the foolish hearts of men I know,
Swear on this image of great Artemis
That unto me thy purpose harmless is,
Nor wilt thou do me hurt, or more or less.
Then while thy lips the ivory image press,
Will I call down all terrors that I know
Upon thine head if thou shouldst break thy vow.
Across his eyes the crafty, fearful king
Drew trembling hands. But yet again she spoke:
“What if the Gods by me the strong chain broke
Of thy past deeds, ill deeds wrought not in vain,
And thou with new desires lived yet again?
Durst I still trust thee with my new-gained life?
Who for the rest am not thy brother's wife,
Thy nephew, or thy brother. Be it so.
Yet since the foolish hearts of men I know,
Swear on this image of great Artemis
That unto me thy purpose harmless is,
Nor wilt thou do me hurt, or more or less.
Then while thy lips the ivory image press,
Will I call down all terrors that I know
Upon thine head if thou shouldst break thy vow.
“Yet for thyself dost thou trust what I say,
Or wilt thou still be dying day by day?”
Or wilt thou still be dying day by day?”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |