Will Jason say He feared the power of Creon and Acastus' wrath?-- True love is proof against the fear of man. But grant He was compelled to yield, and pledged his hand in fear: He might at least have sought his wife with one last word Of comfort and farewell. But this, though brave in heart, He feared to do. The cruel terms of banishment Could Creon's son-in-law not soften? No. One day Alone was given for last farewell to both my babes. But time's short space I'll not bewail; though brief in hours, In consequence it stretches out eternally. This day shall see a deed that ne'er shall be forgot.-- But now I'll go and pray the gods, and move high heaven But I shall work my will! As Medea hastens from the scene, Jason himself enters; and now we hear from his own lips the fatal dilemma in which he finds himself. Regard for his marriage vows, love for his children, and fear of death at the hands of Creon--all are at variance and must be faced. It is the usual tragedy of fate. _Jason._ O heartless fate, if frowns or smiles bedeck thy brow! How often are thy cures far worse than the disease They seek to cure! If, now, I wish to keep the troth I plighted to my lawful bride, my life must pay The forfeit; if I shrink from death, my guilty soul Must perjured be. I fear no power that man can wield, But in my heart paternal love unmans me quite; For well I know that in my death my children's fate Is sealed. O sacred Justice, if in heaven thou dwell'st, Be witness now that for my children's sake I act. Nay, sure am I that even she, Medea's self, Though fierce she is of soul, and brooking no restraint, Will see her children's good outweighing all her wrongs. With this good argument my purpose now is fixed, In humble wise to brave her wrath. [_Re-enter Medea._] But lo! at sight Of me her fury flames anew! Hate, like a shield, She bears, and in her face is pictured all her woe. But Medea's passion has for the moment spent itself. She is now no sorceress, no mad woman breathing out dreadful threatenings; but only the forsaken wife, indignant, indeed, but pathetic in her appeals for sympathy and help from him for whose sake she had given up all her maiden glory, and broken every tie that held her to the past. Her quiet self-control is in marked contrast to her recent ravings.