Forgetting me and all my service? Must I drop,
Like some discarded toy, out of his faithless heart?
It shall not be. Up then, and summon all thy strength
And all thy skill! And, this the fruit of former crime,
Count nothing criminal that works thy will. But lo,
We're hedged about; scant room is left for our designs.565
Now must the attack be made where least suspicion wakes
The least resistance. Now Medea, on! and do
And dare thine utmost, yea, beyond thine utmost power!
[To the Nurse.]