lling teats. With admiration struck,
Now Pelias' daughters faith unshaken give;
More urgent press their wish. Thrice had the sun,
'Merg'd in th' Iberian sea, unyok'd his steeds;
And the fourth night the glittering stars had shone;
When o'er the fire, pure water from the stream,
And powerless plants, the false Medea plac'd.

Now all in sleep relax'd, a death-like sleep,
The monarch's limbs were stretch'd; and with their king,
His guards lay dormant; so her magic words,
And magic tongue had doom'd. Medea leads
Across the steps the daughters; bidd'n by her,
His couch they compass.--"Why, O, feeble souls!
"Thus hesitate?"--she said,--"your swords unsheathe!
"Pour out his far-spent gore, that I may fill
"With youthful, vigorous blood his empty'd veins.
"Your father's life, and years, are in your hands:
"If sways you piety; if empty hopes
"Wavering deceive you not; then well deserve,
"By duty to your sire: quickly expel
"With weapons his old age: let issue forth
"His now congealing blood with brandish'd steel."
Exhorted thus, most pious she who feels,
First impious acts;--a wicked deed performs,
Lest wicked she were call'd: yet on the blow
Not one would bend her sight; with eyes averse
Their savage hands the unseen wounds inflict.
Flowing with gore, he from the bed uprais'd
His limbs; and from his posture strove half-torn
To rise; and stretching forth his pallid arms
'Mid all their threatening swords;--"Daughters!"--he cries,
"What do ye? Why against your parent's life
"Thus arm ye?"--Sink their spirits! drop their hands!
His throat Medea severing, stay'd the words
He more had utter'd,--and the mangled corse,
Deep in the boiling brazen caldron flung.

She now,--but through the air on dragon wings
High borne,--their furious vengeance had not scap'd.
O'er shady Pelion high she flew, and o'er
The cave of Chiron; Othrys; and the spot
For old Cerambus' strange adventure known:
Upborne on wings by kindly-aiding nymphs,
Here, when the solid earth th' incroaching main
Wide delug'd, flying, safe Deucalion's flood
He 'scap'd. AEoelian Pitane to left
She quits; and sees the dragon huge, to stone
An image turn'd. And Ida's grove where chang'd
By Bacchus' power, the steer a stag became,
To screen the theft. And where beneath the sand,
A little sand, Corythus' father lies;
And fields which Maera's new-heard howlings fill.