[She stamps upon the lance-haft and breaks it in two.]
So do I rend thee now, so sink thee deep
In earth's dark bosom, whence, a bane to men,
Thou sprang'st.
[She lays the broken standard in the chest with the other objects and shuts down the cover.]
GORA (comes down).
What does my mistress here?
MEDEA. Thou seest.
GORA. Wilt thou, then, bury in the earth that Fleece,
The symbol of thy service to the gods,
That saved thee, and shall save thee yet again?
MEDEA (scornfully).
That saved me? 'Tis because it saved me not,
That here I lay it. I am safe enough.
GORA (ironically).