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

And this being done, and all men listening,
He spake and said:“O noble Minyæ,
Right prosperous and honoured may ye be;
When Athamas ruled over Thebes the great,
Upon his house there fell a heavy fate,
Making his name a mere byword; for he,
Being wedded to the noble Nephele,
Gat on her a bold youth and tender maid,
Phryxus and Helle; but, being nought afraid
Of what the righteous Gods might do to him,
And seeing Ino, fair of face and limb
Beyond all other, needs with her must wed,

And to that end drove from his royal bed
Unhappy Nephele, who now must be
A slave, where once she governed royally;
While white-foot Ino smiling, sat alone
By Athamas upon the ivory throne.

“And now, as time went on, did I no bear
To Athamas two children hale and fair;
And therewithal hate grew in her the more
Against the twain that Nephele once bore,
Who yet, in spite of all things, day by day
Grew lovelier as their sad lives wore away;
Till Ino thought:‘What help will it have been,
That through these years I have been called a queen,
And set gold raiment on my children dear,
If Athamas should die and leave me here
Betwixt the people and this Nephele,
With those she bore? What then could hap to me
But death or shame? for then, no doubt, would reign
Over this mighty town the children twain;
With her who once was queen still standing near,
And whispering fell words in her darlings' ear.
And then what profit would it be that they
Have won through me full many an evil day;
That Phryxus base and servile deeds doth know,
Unmeet for lords; that many a shame and woe
Helle has borne, and yet is wont to stand,
Shrinking with fear, before some dreaded hand;
If still the ending of it must be this,
That I must die while they live on in bliss,
And cherish her that first lay in my bed?
Nor is there any help till they be dead.’

“Then did she fall on many an evil thought,
And going thence, with threats and money brought
The women of the land to do this thing:
In the mid-winter, yea, before the spring
Was in men's minds, they took the good seed corn,
And while their husbands toiled in the dark morn,

And dreaded nought, they throughly seethed it all;
Whereby this seeming portent did befall,
That neither the sweet showers of April-tide,
Nor the May sunshine gleaming far and wide
Over the meadows, made their furrows green,
Nor yet in June was any young shoot seen.

“Then drew the country folk unto the king,
Weeping and wailing, telling of the thing,
And praying him to satisfy the God,
Whoe'er he was, who with this cruel rod
So smote his wretched people: whereon he
Bade all his priests inquire solemnly
What thing had moved the Gods to slay them thus?
Who, hearing all this story piteous,
Because their hands had felt Queen Ino's gold,
And itched for more, this thing in answer told:

“That great Diana with Queen Nephele
Was wroth beyond all measure, for that she,
Being vowed unto the Goddess, none the less
Cast by the quiver and the girt-up dress,
To lie with Athamas, in kingly bed;
Therefore with grief must she redeem her head,
And though she still should keep her wretched life,
Yet must she give her children to the knife,
Or else this dearth should be but happiness
To what should come, for She would so oppress
The land of Thebes, that folk who saw its name
In old records, would turn the page, and blame
The chronicler for telling empty lies,
And mingling fables with his histories.

“Therefore is Athamas a wretched man
To hear this tale, and doeth what he can
To save his flesh and blood, but all in vain;
Because the people, cruel in their pain,
With angry words were thronging the great hall,
And crafty Ino at his feet did fall,
Saying:‘O King, I pray for these and me,

And for my children.’ Therefore, mournfully
He called the priests again, and bade them say
In few words, how his children they would slay,
And when the dreadful Bearer of the bow
Would best be pleased to see their young blood flow.
Who said, ‘that if the thing were quickly done,
Seeing the green things were not wholly gone,
The ruined fields might give a little food,
And that the morrow's noon was meet and good,
Above all other hours, to do the thing;
And thereupon they prayed unto the king,
To take the younglings, lest they flee and live,
And many an evil day hereafter give
To Thebes which bore them on a hapless tide.

“Then men were sent, who by the river side
Found Phryxus casting nets into the stream;
Who, seeing them coming, little harm did deem
They meant him, and with welcome bade them share
The glittering heap of fishes that lay there.
But they with laughter fell at once on him,
Who, struggling wrathfully, broke here a limb
And there a head, but lastly on the ground
Being felled by many men, was straightly bound,
And in an iron-bolted prison laid,
While to the house they turned to seek the maid.

“Whom soon they found, within the weaving-room,
Bent earnestly above the rattling loom,
Working not like a king's child, but a slave
Who strives her body from the scourge to save.
On her they seized, speechless for very fear,
And dragged her trembling to the prison drear
Where lay her brother, and there cast her in,
Giddy and fainting, wondering for what sin
She suffered this; but finding Phryxus laid
In the same dismal place, the wretched maid
Bewailed with him the sorrows of their life,
Praying the Gods to show the king's new wife

What sorrow was, nor let her hair grow grey
Ere in some hopeless place her body lay.

“Now in that court a certain beast there was,
The gift of Neptune to King Athamas,
A mighty ram, greater than such beasts be
In any land about the Grecian sea;
And in all else a wonder to men's eyes,
For from his shoulders did two wings arise,
That seemed as they were wrought of beaten gold,
And all his fleece was such as in no fold
The shepherd sees, for all was gold indeed.
And now this beast with dainty grass to feed,
The task of Nephele had late been made,
Who, nothing of the mighty ram afraid,
Would bring him flowering trefoil day by day,
And comb his fleece; and her the ram would pay
With gentle bleatings, and would lick her hand,
As in his well-built palace he did stand.
For all the place was made of polished wood,
Studded with gold; and, when he thought it good,
Within a little meadow could he go,
Throughout the midst whereof a stream did flow,
And at the corners stood great linden-trees,
Hummed over by innumerable bees.

“So on the morning when these twain should die,
Stole Nephele to this place privily,
And loosed the ram, and led him straight away
Unto Diana's temple, where that day
Her heart should break unless the Gods were good.
There with the ram, close in a little wood,
She hid herself anigh the gates, till noon
Should bring those to the Lady of the Moon
She longed to see; and as the time drew nigh,
She knelt, and with her trembling hands did tie
About the gold beast's neck a mystic thing,
And in his ears, meanwhile, was murmuring
Words taught her by the ever-changing God,

Who on the sands at noon is wont to nod
Beside the flock of Neptune; till at last
Upon the breeze the sound of flutes went past;
Then sore she trembled, as she held the beast
By the two golden horns, but never ceased
Her mystic rhyme; and louder, and more loud
The music sounded, till the solemn crowd
Along the dusty road came in full sight.
First went the minstrels, clad in raiment white,
Both men and maids garlanded daintily;
And then ten damsels, naked from the knee,
Who in their hands bare bows done round with leaves,
And arrows at their backs in goodly sheaves,
Gay-feathered, ready for the flight in air;
Then came three priests; one bore the steel made bare,
One a great golden bowl to hold the blood,
And one a bundle of some sacred wood;
And then was left a little vacant space,
And then came gold, and therewithal the face
Of beauteous Ino, flushed and triumphing,
And by her, moody and downcast, the king.

“And now her heart beat quick and fast indeed,
Because the two came, doomed that day to bleed
Over the grey bark of the hallowed wood,
Of whom went Phryxus in most manly mood,
Looking around, with mournful, steady eyes,
Upon the green fields and the braveries,
And all he never thought to see again.
But Helle, as she went, could not refrain
From bitter wailing for the days gone by,
When hope was mixed with certain misery,
And when the long day's task and fear was done,
She might take pleasure sometimes in the sun,
Whose rays she saw now glittering on the knife
That in a little time should end her life.

“Now she, who in coarse raiment had been clad
For many a year, upon her body had

On this ill day a golden pearl-wrought gown,
And on her drooping head a glittering crown,
And jewelled sandals on her fainting feet,
And on her neck and bosom jewels meet
For one who should be wedded to a king;
Thus to her death went moaning this sweet thing.

“But when they drew anigh the temple gate
The trembling, weeping mother, laid in wait,
Let go the mighty beast upon the throng,—
Like as a hunter holds the gazehound long,
Until the great buck stalks from out the herd,
And then, with well-remembered hunting word,
Slips the stout leash,—so did she slip the beast,
Who dashed aside both singing-man and priest
And girded maiden, and the king amazed,
And Ino, who with wild eyes stood and gazed,
The horror rising in her evil heart.
And thereon Phryxus, seeing the close crowd part,
And this deliverer nigh him, with wings spread
Ready for flight, and eager threatening head,
Without more words, upon his broad back sprung,
And drew his sister after him, who clung
With trembling arms about him; and straightway
They turned unto the rising of the day,
And over all rose up into the air
With sounding wings; nor yet did any dare,
As fast they flew, to bend on them a bow,
Thinking some God had surely willed it so.