Part 11

He hath not dared to do, Jason, a thing so shameful?

MEDEA.

Aye, 'tis true: And those he loved of yore have no place now.

AEGEUS.

Some passion sweepeth him? Or is it thou He turns from?

MEDEA.

Passion, passion to betray His dearest!

AEGEUS.

Shame be his, so fallen away From honour!

MEDEA.

Passion to be near a throne, A king's heir!

AEGEUS.

How, who gives the bride? Say on.

MEDEA.

Creon, who o'er all Corinth standeth chief.

AEGEUS.

Woman, thou hast indeed much cause for grief.

MEDEA.

'Tis ruin.--And they have cast me out as well.

AEGEUS.

Who? 'Tis a new wrong this, and terrible.

MEDEA.

Creon the king, from every land and shore. . . .

AEGEUS.

And Jason suffers him? Oh, 'tis too sore!

MEDEA.

He loveth to bear bravely ills like these! But, Aegeus, by thy beard, oh, by thy knees, I pray thee, and I give me for thine own, Thy suppliant, pity me! Oh, pity one So miserable. Thou never wilt stand there And see me cast out friendless to despair. Give me a home in Athens . . . by the fire Of thine own hearth! Oh, so may thy desire Of children be fulfilled of God, and thou Die happy! . . . Thou canst know not; even now Thy prize is won! I, I will make of thee A childless man no more. The seed shall be, I swear it, sown. Such magic herbs I know.

AEGEUS.