The infernal tyrant, and at last prevails; Then calls to have decrepit Aeson brought, And stupifies him with a sleeping draught. On earth his body, like a corpse, extends, Then charges Jason and his waiting friends To quit the place, that no unhallow’d eye Into her art’s forbidden secrets pry. This done, the enchantress, with her locks unbound, About her altars trips a frantic round; Piecemeal the consecrated wood she splits, And dips the splinters in the bloody pits, Then hurls them on the piles; the sleeping sire She lustrates thrice, with sulphur, water, fire.