MEDEA. I know well where they lie; For yonder on the plashy ocean-strand I coffined them and sank them deep in earth. 'Tis but to toss away a little mold, And they are mine! But in my inmost soul I shudder when I think on such a venture, And on that blood-stained Fleece. Methinks the ghosts Of father, brother, brood upon their grave And will not let them go. Dost thou recall How on the pavement lay my old, gray sire Weeping for his dead son, and cursing loud His daughter? But lord Jason swung the Fleece High o'er his head, with fierce, triumphant shouts! 'Twas then I swore revenge upon this traitor Who first did slay my best-beloved, now Would slay me, too! Had I my bloody charms And secret magic here, I'd keep that vow! But no, I dare not fetch them, for I fear Lest, shining through the Fleece's golden blaze, Mine eyes should see my father's ghostly face Stare forth at me--and oh! I should go mad! GORA. What wilt thou do, then? MEDEA (_wearily_). Even let them come And slay me, if they will! I can no more! Not one step will I stir from where I stand; My dearest wish is death! And when he sees Me lying dead, mayhap he'll follow me, Deep-smitten with remorse! GORA. The King draws nigh; Look to thyself! MEDEA. Nay, all my strength is gone, What can I do? If he would trample me Beneath his feet--well, let him have his will! _The _KING_ enters._ KING. Night falls apace, thine hours of grace are fled! MEDEA. I know it. KING. Art thou ready to go forth? MEDEA. Thou tauntest me! If I were not prepared, Must I the less go forth? KING. My heart is glad To find thee minded so. 'Twill make thee think Less bitterly upon thy sorry fate, And for thy children it doth spell great good: For now they may remember who she was That bare them. MEDEA. May remember? If they will, Thou meanest! KING. That they shall, must be my care. I'll rear them to be mighty heroes both; And then--who knows?--on some far-distant day Their hero-deeds may bring them to the shores. Of Colchis, where they'll find thee once again, Older in years, grown soft and gentle now, And with fond love will press thee to their hearts. MEDEA. Alas! KING. What say'st thou?