No: quick, great God; quick curses round thy head! MEDEA. The Gods know who began this work of woe. JASON. Thy heart and all its loathliness they know. MEDEA. Loathe on. . . . But, Oh, thy voice. It hurts me sore. JASON. Aye, and thine me. Wouldst hear me then no more? MEDEA. How? Show me but the way. 'Tis this I crave. JASON. Give me the dead to weep, and make their grave. MEDEA. Never! Myself will lay them in a still Green sepulchre, where Hera by the Hill Hath precinct holy, that no angry men May break their graves and cast them forth again To evil. So I lay on all this shore Of Corinth a high feast for evermore And rite, to purge them yearly of the stain Of this poor blood. And I, to Pallas' plain I go, to dwell beside Pandion's son, Aegeus.--For thee, behold, death draweth on, Evil and lonely, like thine heart: the hands Of thine old Argo, rotting where she stands, Shall smite thine head in twain, and bitter be To the last end thy memories of me. [_She rises on the chariot and is slowly borne away._ JASON. May They that hear the weeping child Blast thee, and They that walk in blood! MEDEA. Thy broken vows, thy friends beguiled Have shut for thee the ears of God. JASON. Go, thou art wet with children's tears! MEDEA. Go thou, and lay thy bride to sleep. JASON. Childless, I go, to weep and weep. MEDEA. Not yet! Age cometh and long years. JASON. My sons, mine own! MEDEA. Not thine, but mine . . . JASON. . . . Who slew them! MEDEA. Yes: to torture thee. JASON. Once let me kiss their lips, once twine Mine arms and touch. . . . Ah, woe is me! MEDEA. Wouldst love them and entreat? But now They were as nothing. JASON. At the last, O God, to touch that tender brow! MEDEA. Thy words upon the wind are cast. JASON. Thou, Zeus, wilt hear me. All is said For naught. I am but spurned away And trampled by this tigress, red With children's blood. Yet, come what may, So far as thou hast granted, yea, So far as yet my strength may stand, I weep upon these dead, and say Their last farewell, and raise my hand To all the daemons of the air In witness of these things; how she Who slew them, will not suffer me To gather up my babes, nor bear To earth their bodies; whom, O stone Of women, would I ne'er had known Nor gotten, to be slain by thee! [_He casts himself upon the earth._