Creon the king, from every land and shore. . . . AEGEUS. And Jason suffers him? Oh, 'tis too sore! MEDEA. He loveth to bear bravely ills like these! But, Aegeus, by thy beard, oh, by thy knees, I pray thee, and I give me for thine own, Thy suppliant, pity me! Oh, pity one So miserable. Thou never wilt stand there And see me cast out friendless to despair. Give me a home in Athens . . . by the fire Of thine own hearth! Oh, so may thy desire Of children be fulfilled of God, and thou Die happy! . . . Thou canst know not; even now Thy prize is won! I, I will make of thee A childless man no more. The seed shall be, I swear it, sown. Such magic herbs I know. AEGEUS. Woman, indeed my heart goes forth to show This help to thee, first for religion's sake, Then for thy promised hope, to heal my ache Of childlessness. 'Tis this hath made mine whole Life as a shadow, and starved out my soul. But thus it stands with me. Once make thy way To Attic earth, I, as in law I may, Will keep thee and befriend. But in this land, Where Creon rules, I may not raise my hand To shelter thee. Move of thine own essay To seek my house, there thou shalt alway stay, Inviolate, never to be seized again. But come thyself from Corinth. I would fain Even in foreign eyes be alway just. MEDEA. 'Tis well. Give me an oath wherein to trust And all that man could ask thou hast granted me. AEGEUS. Dost trust me not? Or what thing troubleth thee? MEDEA. I trust thee. But so many, far and near, Do hate me--all King Pelias' house, and here Creon. Once bound by oaths and sanctities Thou canst not yield me up for such as these To drag from Athens. But a spoken word, No more, to bind thee, which no God hath heard. . . The embassies, methinks, would come and go: They all are friends to thee. . . . Ah me, I know Thou wilt not list to me! So weak am I, And they full-filled with gold and majesty. AEGEUS. Methinks 'tis a far foresight, this thine oath. Still, if thou so wilt have it, nothing loath Am I to serve thee. Mine own hand is so The stronger, if I have this plea to show Thy persecutors: and for thee withal The bond more sure.--On what God shall I call? MEDEA. Swear by the Earth thou treadest, by the Sun, Sire of my sires, and all the gods as one. . . . AEGEUS. To do what thing or not do? Make all plain. MEDEA. Never thyself to cast me out again. Nor let another, whatsoe'er his plea, Take me, while thou yet livest and art free. AEGEUS. Never: so hear me, Earth, and the great star Of daylight, and all other gods that are! MEDEA. 'Tis well: and if thou falter from thy vow . . . ? AEGEUS. God's judgment on the godless break my brow! MEDEA.