GORA. Remorse? Ask thy lord if he rue his deed!
For, see! He draws nigh with hasty steps.
MEDEA. And with him the king, my bitter foe,
Whose counsel hath led my lord astray.
Him must I flee, for I cannot tame
My hatred.
[She goes swiftly toward the palace.]
But if lord Jason wish
To speak with me, then bid him come in,
To my side in the innermost chambers—there
I would parley with him, not here
By the side of the man who is my foe.
They come. Away!
[She disappears into the palace.]
GORA. Lo, she is gone!
And I am left to deal with the man
Who is killing my child, who hath brought it to pass
That I lay my head on a foreign soil,
And must hide my tears of bitter woe,
Lest I see a smile on the lips of these strangers here.
The KING _and _JASON enter.
KING. Why hath thy mistress fled? 'Twill serve her not
GORA. Fled? Nay, she went, because she hates thy face
KING. Summon her forth!