Dost thou remember--Nay, look not on me So haughtily!--how, on that very day Before thine uncle died, his daughters went So sorrowful and hopeless forth from me, Because I sent them back at thy behest, And would not aid them? Then thou cam'st, alone, Unto my chamber, looking in mine eyes So earnestly, as though some purpose grim, Deep hidden in thy heart, would search my soul To find its like therein? And how thou saidst That they were come to me for healing balms To cure their old, sick father? 'Twas thy wish That I should brew a cool, refreshing draught To cure him of his ills forevermore-- And thee as well! Hast thou forgotten that? Nay, look at me, eye straight to eye, if thou Dost dare! JASON. Thou demon! Why these frantic words, This rage against me? Why recall to life These shadows of my dreams and make them real, Why hold a mirror up to me wherein Naught but thine own vile thoughts do show, and say 'Tis I that look therefrom? Why call my thoughts From out the past to charge me with thy crimes? Naught know I of thy plans and plottings, naught! From the beginning I have hated thee, I've cursed the day when first I saw thy face; 'Tis pity only held me at thy side! But now I cast thee off forevermore With bitter curses, e'en as all the world Doth curse thee! MEDEA (_throwing herself at his feet with a cry of agony_). No! My love, my husband! No! JASON (_roughly_). Begone! MEDEA. That day my old, gray father cursed My name, thou gay'st thy promise, nevermore To leave me, nevermore! Now keep thy word! JASON. Thine own rash deeds have made that promise naught, And here I give thee to thy father's curse. MEDEA. I hate thee!--Come! Come, O my husband! JASON. Back! MEDEA. Come to my loving arms! 'Twas once thy wish! JASON. Back! See, I draw my sword. I'll strike thee dead, Unless thou yield, and go! MEDEA (_approaching him fearlessly_). Then strike me, strike! CREUSA (_to_ JASON). Hold! Let her go in peace, and harm her not!