JASON So she be self-restrained; but in thy eyes all is evil.
MEDEA Thy sons are dead and gone. That will stab thy heart.
JASON They live, methinks, to bring a curse upon thy head.
MEDEA The gods know, whoso of them began this troublous coil.
JASON Indeed, they know that hateful heart of thine.
MEDEA Thou art as hateful. I am aweary of thy bitter tongue.
JASON And I likewise of thine. But parting is easy.
MEDEA Say how; what am I to do? for I am fain as thou to go.
JASON Give up to me those dead, to bury and lament.
MEDEA No, never! I will bury them myself, bearing them to Hera's
sacred field, who watches o'er the Cape, that none of their foes may
insult them by pulling down their tombs; and in this land of Sisyphus
I will ordain hereafter a solemn feast and mystic rites to atone for
this impious murder. Myself will now to the land of Erechtheus, to
dwell with Aegeus, Pandion's son. But thou, as well thou mayst, shalt
die a caitiff's death, thy head crushed 'neath a shattered relic of
Argo, when thou hast seen the bitter ending of my marriage.
JASON The curse of our sons' avenging spirit and of justice, that
calls for blood, be on thee!
MEDEA What god or power divine hears thee, breaker of oaths and every
law of hospitality?
JASON Fie upon thee! cursed witch! child-murderess!
MEDEA To thy house! go, bury thy wife.
JASON I go, bereft of both my sons.
MEDEA Thy grief is yet to come; wait till old age is with thee too.
JASON O my dear, dear children!
MEDEA Dear to their mother, not to thee.
JASON And yet thou didst slay them?
MEDEA Yea, to vex thy heart.
JASON One last fond kiss, ah me! I fain would on their lips imprint.
MEDEA Embraces now, and fond farewells for them; but then a cold
JASON By heaven I do adjure thee, let me touch their tender skin.
MEDEA No, no! in vain this word has sped its flight.
JASON O Zeus, dost hear how I am driven hence; dost mark the treatment
I receive from this she-lion, fell murderess of her young? Yet so
far as I may and can, I raise for them a dirge, and do adjure the
gods to witness how thou hast slain my sons, and wilt not suffer me
to embrace or bury their dead bodies. Would I had never begotten them
to see thee slay them after all! (The chariot carries MEDEA away.)
CHORUS (chanting) Many a fate doth Zeus dispense, high on his Olympian
throne; oft do the gods bring things to pass beyond man's expectation;
that, which we thought would be, is not fulfilled, while for the unlooked-for
god finds out a way; and such hath been the issue of this matter.