Thy news is as it is; I blame thee not.
ATTENDANT

Then why this downcast eye, these floods of tears?
MEDEA

Old friend, needs must I weep; for the gods and I with fell intent
devised these schemes.

ATTENDANT
Be of good cheer; thou too of a surety shalt by thy sons yet be

brought home again.
MEDEA

Ere that shall I bring others to their home, ah! woe is me
ATTENDANT

Thou art not the only mother from thy children reft. Bear
patiently thy troubles as a mortal must.

MEDEA
I will obey; go thou within the house and make the day's provision

for the children. (The ATTENDANT enters the house. MEDEA turns to
the children.) O my babes, my babes, ye have still a city and a

home, where far from me and my sad lot you will live your lives,
reft of your mother for ever; while I must to another land in

banishment, or ever I have had my joy of you, or lived to see you
happy, or ever I have graced your marriage couch, your bride, your

bridal bower, or lifted high the wedding torch. Ah me! a victim of
my own self-will. So it was all in vain I reared you, O my sons; in

vain did suffer, racked with anguish, enduring the cruel pangs of
childbirth. 'Fore Heaven I once had hope, poor me! high hope of ye

that you would nurse me in my age and deck my corpse with loving
hands, a boon we mortals covet; but now is my sweet fancy dead and

gone; for I must lose you both and in bitterness and sorrow drag
through life. And ye shall never with fond eyes see your mother more

for o'er your life there comes a change. Ah me! ah me! why do ye
look at me so, my children? why smile that last sweet smile? Ah me!

what am I to do? My heart gives way when I behold my children's
laughing eyes. O, I cannot; farewell to all my former schemes; I

will take the children from the land, the babes I bore. Why should I
wound their sire by wounding them, and get me a twofold measure of

sorrow? No, no, I will not do it. Farewell my scheming! And yet what
possesses me? Can I consent to let those foes of mine escape from

punishment, and incur their mockery? I must face this deed. Out upon
my craven heart! to think that I should even have let the soft words

escape my soul. Into the house, children! (The children go into the
house.) And whoso feels he must not be present at my sacrifice, must

see to it himself; I will not spoil my handiwork. Ah! ah! do not, my
heart, O do not do this deed! Let the children go, unhappy one,

spare the babes! For if they live, they will cheer thee in our exile
there. Nay, by the fiends of hell's abyss, never, never will I hand my

children over to their foes to mock and flout. Die they must in any
case, and since 'tis so, why I, the mother who bore them, will give

the fatal blow. In any case their doom is fixed and there is no
escape. Already the crown is on her head, the robe is round her, and

she is dying, the royal bride; that do I know full well. But now since
I have a piteous path to tread, and yet more piteous still the path

I send my children on, fain would I say farewell to them. (The
children come out at her call. She takes them in her arms.) O my

babes, my babes, let your mother kiss your hands. Ah! hands I love
so well, O lips most dear to me! O noble form and features of my

children, I wish ye joy, but in that other land, for here your
father robs you of your home. O the sweet embrace, the soft young

cheek, the fragrantbreath! my children! Go, leave me; I cannot bear
to longer look upon ye; my sorrow wins the day. At last I understand

the awful deed I am to do; but passion, that cause of direst woes to
mortal man, hath triumphed o'er my sober thoughts.

(She goes into the house with the children.)
CHORUS (chanting)

Oft ere now have I pursued subtler themes and have faced graver
issues than woman's sex should seek to probe; but then e'en we

aspire to culture, which dwells with us to teach us wisdom; I say
not all; for small is the class amongst women-(one maybe shalt thou

find 'mid many)-that is not incapable of wisdom. And amongstmortals I
do assert that they who are wholly without experience and have never

had children far surpass in happiness those who are parents. The
childless, because they have never proved whether children grow up

to be a blessing or curse to men are removed from all share in many
troubles; whilst those who have a sweet race of children growing up in

their houses do wear away, as I perceive, their whole life through;
first with the thought how they may train them up in virtue, next

how they shall leave their sons the means to live; and after all
this 'tis far from clear whether on good or bad children they bestow

their toil. But one last crowning woe for every mortal man now will
name; suppose that they have found sufficient means to live, and

seen their children grow to man's estate and walk in virtue's path,
still if fortune so befall, comes Death and bears the children's

bodies off to Hades. Can it be any profit to the gods to heap upon
us mortal men beside our other woes this further grief for children

lost, a grief surpassing all?
(MEDEA comes out of the house.)

MEDEA
Kind friends, long have I waited expectantly to know how things

would at the palace chance. And lo! I see one of Jason's servants
coming hither, whose hurried gasps for breathproclaim him the

bearer of some fresh tidings.
(A MESSENGER rushes in.)

MESSENGER
Fly, fly, Medea! who hast wrought an awful deed, transgressing

every law: nor leave behind or sea-borne bark or car that scours the
plain.

MEDEA
Why, what hath chanced that calls for such a flight of mine?

MESSENGER
The princess is dead, a moment gone, and Creon too, her sire,

slain by those drugs of thine.
MEDEA

Tidings most fair are thine! Henceforth shalt thou be ranked
amongst my friends and benefactors.

MESSENGER
Ha! What? Art sane? Art not distraught, lady, who hearest with joy

the outrage to our royal house done, and art not at the horrid tale
afraid?

MEDEA
Somewhat have I, too, to say in answer to thy words. Be not so

hasty, friend, but tell the manner of their death, for thou wouldst
give me double joy, if so they perished miserably.

MESSENGER
When the children twain whom thou didst bear came with their

father and entered the palace of the bride, right glad were we thralls
who had shared thy griefs, for instantly from ear to ear a rumour

spread that thou and thy lord had made up your former quarrel. One
kissed thy children's hands, another their golden hair, while I for

very joy went with them in person to the women's chambers. Our
mistress, whom now we do revere in thy room, cast a longing glance

at Jason, ere she saw thy children twain; but then she veiled her eyes
and turned her blanching cheek away, disgusted at their coming; but

thy husband tried to check his young bride's angry humour with these
words: "O, be not angered 'gainst thy friends; cease from wrath and

turn once more thy face this way, counting as friends whomso thy
husband counts, and accept these gifts, and for my sake crave thy sire