JASON. Time passed; the memory of those ghastly days In Colchis dimmer grew and mistier. I, the proud Greek, now half barbarian grown, Companioned by my wife, barbarian too, Sought once again my home-land. Joyfully The people cried Godspeed! as forth I fared Long years agone. Of joyfuller greetings now, When I returned a victor, I had dreamed. But lo, the busy streets grew still as death When I approached, and whoso met me, shrank Back in dismay! The tale, grown big with horrors, Of all that chanced in Colchis had bred fear And hatred in this foolish people's hearts. They fled my face, heaped insults on my wife-- _Mine_ she was, too; who flouted her, struck me! This evil talk my uncle slily fed; And when I made demand that he yield up The kingdom of my fathers, stolen by him And kept from me by craft, he made reply That I must put away this foreign wife, For she was hateful in his eyes, he feared Her dark and dreadful deeds! If I refused, My fatherland, his kingdom, I must flee. KING. And thou--? JASON. What could I? Was she not my wife, That trusted to my arm to keep her safe? Who challenged her, was he not then my foe? Why, had he named some easier behest, By Heaven, I had obeyed not even that! Then how grant this? I laughed at his command. KING. And he--?