What! Art thou here, thou ancient beldame? Ha! I hate thee most of all this Colchian crew. One glance at thy dim eyes and wrinkled brow, And lo! before my troubled sight there swims The dusky shore of Colchis! Why must thou Be ever hovering close beside my wife? Begone! GORA (_grumblingly_). Why should I? JASON. Go! MEDEA. Begone, I pray. GORA (_sullenly to _JASON). Am I thy purchased slave, that thou shouldst speak So lordly? JASON. Go! My hand, of its own will, Is on my sword! Go, while there yet is time! Often ere this I have thought to make essay If that stern brow be softer than it seems! [MEDEA _leads the reluctant_ GORA _away, whispering words of comfort as they go._ JASON _throws himself on a grass-bank, and strikes his breast._] JASON. O, heart of mine, burst from thy prison-house, And drink the air!-- Ay, there they lie, fair Corinth's lofty towers, Marshalled so richly on the ocean-strand, The cradle of my happy, golden youth! Unchanging, gilded by the selfsame sun As then. 'Tis I am altered, and not they. Ye gods! The morning of my life was bright And sunny; wherefore is my eventide So dark and gloomy? Would that it were night! [MEDEA _has brought the two children out of the tent, and now leads them by the hand to_ JASON.] MEDEA. See, Jason, thy two babes, who come to greet thee. Come, children, give your sire your little hands. [_The children draw back, and stand shyly at one side._] JASON (_stretching out his hands yearningly toward the little group._) Is this the end, then? Do I find myself Husband and father of a savage brood? MEDEA. Go, children. ONE CHILD. Father, is it true thou art A Greek? JASON. And why? CHILD. Old Gora says thou art, And calls the Greeks bad names. JASON. What names, my boy? CHILD. Traitors she says they are, and cowards, too. JASON (_to_ MEDEA). Dost hear? MEDEA. 'Tis Gora's foolish tales that they Have heard, and treasured, child-like. Mark them not. [_She kneels beside the two children, whispering in the ear now of one, now of the other._] JASON. I will not. [_He rises from the grass._] There she kneels--unhappy fate!-- Bearing two burdens, hers, and mine as well. [_He paces up and down, then addresses_ MEDEA.] There, leave the babes awhile, and come to me. MEDEA (_to the children_). Now go, and be good children. Go, I say. [_The children go._]