MEDEA. Ne'er sought to learn if I
Had heart and courage for the deed?
JASON. Thou know'st
How, in the first mad burst of rage and hate,
A man speaks many hot, impetuous threats
Which calm reflection never would fulfil.
MEDEA. Once thou didst blame thyself for that mad deed;
Now thou hast found a victim who can bear
The guilt in place of thee!
JASON. 'Tis not the thought
Of such a deed that merits punishment;
It is the deed itself.
MEDEA (quickly).
I did it not!
JASON. Who, then, is guilty?
MEDEA. Not myself, at least!
Listen, my husband, and be thou the first
To do me justice.
As I stood at the chamber door, to enter
And steal away the Fleece,
The king lay there on his couch;
Sudden I heard a cry! I turned,
And lo! I saw the aged king
Leap from his couch with frightful shrieks,
Twisting and writhing; and he cried,
"Com'st thou, O brother, to take revenge,
Revenge on me? Ha! Thou shalt die
Again, and yet again!" And straight
He sprang at me, to grip me fast,
For in my hands I held the Fleece.
I shook with fear, and cried aloud
For help to those dark gods I know;
The Fleece before me like a shield
I held. His face was twisted swift
To maniac grins, and leered at me!
Then, with a shriek, he madly tore
At the clothes that bound his aged veins;
They rent; the blood gushed forth in streams,
And, even as I looked, aghast
And full of horror, there he lay,
The king, at my very feet, all bathed
In his own blood-lay cold and dead!
JASON. And thou canst stand and tell me such a tale,
Thou hateful witchwife? Get thee gone from me!
Away! I shudder at thee! Would that I
Had ne'er beheld thy face!
MEDEA. Thou knewest well
That I was skilled in witchcraft, from that day
When first thou saw'st me at my magic arts,
And still didst yearn and long to call me thine!