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

But on the chamber where sweet Glauce lay,
Fair broke the dawning of that dreadful day,
And fairer from her bed did she arise,
And looking down with shamefast timid eyes,
Beheld the bosom that no man had seen,
And round limbs worthy of the Sea-born Queen.
With that she murmured words of joy and love,
No louder than the grey pink-footed dove,
When at the dawn he first begins his tale,
Not knowing if he means a song or wail.

Then soon her maidens came, and every rite
That was the due of that slim body white,
They wrought with careful hands; and last they took
Medea's gift, and all the folds outshook,
And in a cool room looking toward the north,
They clad the queen therewith, nor brought her forth
Till over all a gold cloak they had laid.
Then to King Creon did they bring the maid,
Rejoicing in the greatness of her love,
Which well she thought no lapse of time could move,
And on the dais of the royal hall
They waited till the minute should befall
When Jason and his friends would bear her thence
With gentle rape and tender violence,
As then the manner was; and the old king
Sat there beside her, glad at everything.

Meanwhile the people thronged in every way,
Clad in gay weed, rejoicing for that day,
Since that their lords had bidden them rejoice;
And in the streets was many a jocund voice,
That carolled to the honour of the twain
Who on that day such blissful life should gain.

But Jason set out from his pillared house,
Clad in rich raiment, fair and amorous,

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Forgetful of the troubles of the night,
Nor thinking more of that impending blight,
Nor those ill words the harpies spoke of old,
As with his fellows, glittering gay with gold,
Towards Creon's palace did he take his way,
To meet the bride that he should wed that day.

But in the hall the pillars one by one
Had barred the pathway of the travelling sun,
As toward the west he turned, and now at last
Upon the dais were his hot rays cast,
As they within heard the glad minstrelsy
Of Jason to his loved one drawing nigh.

Then Creon took fair Glauce by the hand,
And round about her did her damsels stand,
Making a ring 'gainst that sweet violence,
That soon shall bear their lovely mistress thence.
While Glauce, trembling with her shamefast joy,
With the gold mantle's clasp began to toy,
Eager to cast that covering off, and feel
The hero's mighty arms about her steal.