That oath’s end. Give me to see

Him and his bride, who sought

My grief when I wronged her not,

Broken in misery,

And all her house.[[31]]

The scene is one of weird impressiveness. So far, Medea has not appeared; but her cries within the house, the appearance of her children, the indignant fidelity of the old servants, the beautiful lyrics of the Chorus, and, above all, the knowledge we possess that another blow is about to fall on her, produce a cumulative effect which makes the moment of her entrance intensely dramatic. Yet she begins her speech quietly, almost in apology for her former unrestraint. She strives for self-control while she puts her case before the Corinthian women and begs their help. For a moment or two she succeeds, pathetically acknowledging her foreign birth and the flaw it intrudes in the legality of her marriage. But at this thought, emotion sweeps over her again:

...I dazzle where I stand,

The cup of all life shattered in my hand,

Longing to die—O friends! He, even he,

Whom to know well was all the world to me,