Their sin—that Jason is their sire,
And, deeper guilt, that I have borne them. Let them die;
They are not mine. Nay, nay! they are my own, my sons,
And with no spot of guilt. Full innocent they are,935
'Tis true—my brother, too, was innocent. O soul,
Why dost thou hesitate? Why flow these streaming tears,
While with contending thoughts my wavering heart is torn?
As when conflicting winds contend in stubborn strife,
And waves, to stormy waves opposed, the sea invade,940
And to their lowest sands the briny waters boil;