Though Creon's self demand. My very spring of life,
My sore heart's comfort, and my joy are these my sons;
And sooner could I part with limbs or vital breath,
Or light of life.
Medea [aside]: Doth he thus love his sons? 'Tis well;
Then is he bound, and in his armored strength this flaw550
Reveals the place to strike.
[To Jason.]
At least, ere I depart,
Grant me this last request: let me once more embrace