JASON. Oh, water, water! Give me but to drink!
See, Jason is my name, famed far and wide,
The hero of the wondrous Golden Fleece!
A prince—a king—and of the Argonauts
The mighty leader, Jason!
RUSTIC. Art thou, then,
In very sooth Lord Jason? Get thee gone
And quickly! Thou shalt not so much as set
A foot upon my threshold, to pollute
My humble dwelling! Thou didst bring but now
Death to the daughter of my lord the King!
Then seek not shelter at the meanest door
Of any of his subjects!
[He goes into the hut again and shuts the door behind him.]
JASON. He is gone,
And leaves me here to lie upon the earth,
Bowed in the dust, for any that may pass
To trample on!—O Death, on thee I call!
Have pity on me! Take me to my babes!
[He sinks down upon the ground.]
MEDEA makes her way among some tumbled rocks, and stands suddenly before him, the Golden Fleece flung over her shoulders like a mantle.
MEDEA. Jason!
JASON (half raising himself).
Who calls me?—Ha! What spectral form
Is this before me? Is it thou, Medea?
Ha! Dost thou dare to show thyself again
Before mine eyes? My sword! My sword!
[He tries to rise, but falls weakly back.]