O Mother, Mother, what hast thou to reap, When the harvest cometh, between wake and sleep? For a heart unslaken, For a troth forsaken, Lo, babes that call thee from a bloody deep: And thy love returns not. Get thee forth and weep! [_Enter the_ ATTENDANT _with the two_ CHILDREN: MEDEA _comes out from the house_. ATTENDANT. Mistress, these children from their banishment Are spared. The royal bride hath mildly bent Her hand to accept thy gifts, and all is now Peace for the children.--Ha, why standest thou Confounded, when good fortune draweth near? MEDEA. Ah God! ATTENDANT. This chimes not with the news I bear. MEDEA. O God, have mercy! ATTENDANT. Is some word of wrath Here hidden that I knew not of? And hath My hope to give thee joy so cheated me? MEDEA. Thou givest what thou givest: I blame not thee. ATTENDANT. Thy brows are all o'ercast: thine eyes are filled. . . . MEDEA. For bitter need, Old Man! The gods have willed, And my own evil mind, that this should come. ATTENDANT. Take heart! Thy sons one day will bring thee home. MEDEA. Home? . . . I have others to send home. Woe's me! ATTENDANT. Be patient. Many a mother before thee Hath parted from her children. We poor things Of men must needs endure what fortune brings. MEDEA. I will endure.--Go thou within, and lay All ready that my sons may need to-day. [_The_ ATTENDANT _goes into the house_.