many a care.  No more the present seems
             A fair tree, laden down with luscious fruits,
             ’Neath whose cool shadows rest and joy are found,
             But is become a tiny seedling which,
             When buried in the earth, will sprout and bud
             And bloom, and bear a future of its own. 
             What shall thy task in life be?  Where thy home? 
             What of thy wife and babes?  What thine own fate,
             And theirs?—­Such constant musings tantalize
             the soul. [He seats himself.]

CREUSA.  What should’st thou care for such?  ’Tis all decreed,
             All ordered for thee.

JASON.  Ordered?  Ay, as when
             Over the threshold one thrusts forth a bowl
             Of broken meats, to feed some begging wretch! 
             I am Prince Jason.  Spells not that enough
             Of sorrow?  Must I ever henceforth sit
             Meek at some stranger’s board, or beg my way,
             My little babes about me, praying pity
             From each I meet?  My sire was once a king,
             And so am I; yet who would care to boast
             He is like Jason?  Still—­[He rises.]
             I passed but now
             Down through the busy market-place and through
             Yon wide-wayed city.  Dost remember how
             I strode in my young pride through those same streets
             What time I came to take farewell of thee
             Long since, ere sailed the Argo?  How the folk
             Came thronging, surging, how each street was choked
             With horses, chariots, men—­a dazzling blaze
             Of color?  How the eager gazers climbed
             Up on the house-tops, swarmed on every tower,
             And fought for places as they would for gold? 
             The air rang with the cymbals’ brazen crash
             And with the shouts of all that mighty throng
             Crying, “Hail, Jason!” Thick they crowded round
             That gallant band attired in rich array,
             Their shining armor gleaming in the sun,
             The least of them a hero and a king,
             And in their midst the leader they adored. 
             I was the man that captained them, that brought
             Them safe to Greece again; and it was I
             That all this folk did greet with loud acclaim.—­
             I trod these selfsame streets an hour ago,
             But no eye sought me, greeting heard I none;
             Only, the while I stood and gazed about,
             I heard one rudely grumbling that I had
             No right to block the way, and stand and stare.

CREUSA.  Thou wilt regain thy proud place once again,
             If thou but choose.

JASON.  Nay, all my hopes are dead;
             My fight is fought, and I am down, to rise
             No more.