Medea.
[derisively.] Not so;
But rather build a lofty pyre for these thy sons;
Their funeral rites prepare. Already for thy bride
And father have I done the service due the dead;
For in their ruined palace have I buried them.
One son of thine has met his doom; and this shall die
Before his father's face.—
Jason.
By all the gods, and by the perils of our flight,
And by our marriage bond which I have ne'er betrayed,
I pray thee spare the boy, for he is innocent.
If aught of sin there be, 'tis mine. Myself I give
To be the victim. Take my guilty soul for his.
Medea.
'Tis for thy prayers and tears I draw, not sheathe the
sword.
Go now, and take thee maids for wives, thou faithless one;
Abandon and betray the mother of thy sons.
Jason.
And yet, I pray thee, let one sacrifice atone.
Medea.
If in the blood of one my passion could be quenched,
No vengeance had it sought. Though both my sons I slay,
The number still is all too small to satisfy
My boundless grief.
Jason.
Then finish what thou hast begun—
I ask no more—and grant at least that no delay
Prolong my helpless agony.
Medea.
Now hasten not,
Relentless passion, but enjoy a slow revenge.
This day is in thy hands; its fertile hours employ.
Jason.
O take my life, thou heartless one.
Medea.
Thou bidst me pity—
Well—[She slays the second child]—'Tis done!
No more atonement, passion, can I offer thee.
Now hither lift thy tearful eyes, ungrateful one.
Dost recognize thy wife? 'Twas thus of old I fled.
The heavens themselves provide me with a safe retreat.
Twin serpents bow their heads submissive to the yoke.
For there suddenly appears in the air a chariot drawn by dragons.