Leader.
Thou canst not kill the fruit thy body bore!
Medea.
Yes: if the man I hate be pained the more.
Leader.
And thou made miserable, most miserable?
Medea.
Oh, let it come! All words of good or ill
Are wasted now.
[She claps her hands: the Nurse comes out
from the house.
Ho, woman; get thee gone
And lead lord Jason hither. . . . There is none
Like thee, to work me these high services.
But speak no word of what my purpose is,
As thou art faithful, thou, and bold to try
All succours, and a woman even as I!
[The Nurse departs.