, see! my head is bleeding, wounded sore
By falling firebrands! How? All silent, then?
And none will guide me, none companion me,
None follow me, whom once so many joyed
To follow? Spirits of my babes, lead ye
The way, and guide your father to the grave
That waits him!

[_He goes slowly away._]

KING (_to his attendants_).

Quick, to work! And after that,
Mourning that hath no end!

[_He goes away in the other direction._]

_The curtain falls for a moment, and, when it rises again, discloses a
wild and lonely region surrounded by forest and by lofty crags, at the
foot of which lies a mean hut. A rustic enters._

RUSTIC. How fair the morning dawns! Oh, kindly gods,
After the storm and fury of the night,
Your sun doth rise more glorious than before!

[_He goes into the hut._]

(JASON _comes stumbling out of the forest and leaning heavily on his
sword._)

JASON. Nay, I can go no farther! How my head
Doth burn and throb, the blood how boil within!
My tongue cleaves to the roof of my parched mouth!
Is none within there? Must I die of thirst,
And all alone?--Ha! Yon's the very hut
That gave me shelter when I came this way
Before, a rich man still, a happy father,
My bosom filled with newly-wakened hopes!

[_He knocks at the door._]

'Tis but a drink I crave, and then a place
To lay me down and die!

[_The peasant comes out of the house._]

RUSTIC. Who knocks?--Poor man,
Who art thou? Ah, poor soul, he's faint to death!

JASON. Oh, water, water! Give me but to drink!
See, Jason is my name, famed far and wide,
The hero of the wondrous Golden Fleece!
A prince--a king--and of the Argonauts
The mighty leader, Jason!

RUSTIC. Art thou, then,
In very sooth Lord Jason? Get thee gone
And quickly! Thou shalt not so much as set
A foot upon my threshold, to pollute
My humble dwelling! Thou didst bring but now
Death to the daughter of my lord the King!
Then seek not shelter at the meanest door
Of any of his subjects!

[_He goes into the hut again and shuts the door behind him._]

JASON.