JASON. 'Tis not my will,
Nay; but a higher bidding tells me plain
That I must leave thy side. Thy fate seems hard,
But what of mine? And yet, I pity thee,
If that be any comfort!
MEDEA (falling upon her knees to him).
Jason!
JASON. Well?
What wouldst thou further?
MEDEA (rising suddenly).
Nothing! It is past
And done with! O proud sires, O mighty gods
Of Colchis, grant forgiveness to thy child
Who hath so humbled and dishonored you,
(Ay, and herself as well)—for I was pressed
And needs must do it. Now, receive me back!
[JASON turns to leave her.]
Jason!
JASON. Hope not that thou canst soften me!
MEDEA. Nay, never think I wished it! Give me back
My babes!