(To the children.)

Come to me-come here.

CREUSA (glancing at her father).

Shall I let them go?

KING.  She is their mother.

CREUSA.  Run
             To mother, children.

MEDEA (to children).

Come!  Why stand ye there
And wait?

CREUSA (to the children, who are clasping her about the neck).

Your mother calls, my little ones. 
Run to her quick!

[The children go to MEDEA.]

JASON (to the KING).

My lord, what is thy will?

KING.  Thou hast my promise.

JASON.  Thou wilt keep me safe?

KING.  I have said it.

JASON.  Me and mine thou wilt receive?

KING.  Nay, thee I said, not thine.—­Now follow on,
             First to the altar, to our palace then.

JASON (as he follows the king, to CREUSA).

Give me thy hand, Creusa, as of yore!

CREUSA.  Thou canst not take it as of old thou didst.

MEDEA.  They go,—­and I am left, forgot!  Oh, children,
             Run here and clasp me close.  Nay, closer, tighter!

CREUSA (to herself, turning as they go).

Where is Medea?  Why does she not follow?

[She comes back, but stands at a distance from MEDEA.]

Com’st thou not to the sacrifice, then home
With us?

MEDEA.  Unbidden guests must wait without.

CREUSA.  Nay, but my father promised shelter, help.

MEDEA.  Thy words and his betokened no such aid!

CREUSA (approaching nearer).

I’ve grieved thee, wounded thee!  Forgive, I pray.

MEDEA.  Ah, gracious sound!  Who spake that gentle word? 
             Ay, many a time they’ve stabbed me to the quick,
             But none e’er paused, and, pitying, asked himself
             If the wound smarted!  Thanks to thee, sweet maid! 
             Oh, when thou art thyself in sore distress,
             Then may’st thou find some tender, pitying soul
             To whisper soft and gracious words to thee,
             To give one gentle glance—­as thou to me!

[MEDEA tries to grasp CREUSA’s hand, but the princess draws back timidly.]

Nay, shudder not!  ’Tis no plague-spotted hand.—­
Oh, I was born a princess, even as thou. 
For me the path of life stretched smooth and straight
As now for thee; blindly thereon I fared,
Content, where all seemed right.—­Ah, happy days! 
For I was born a princess, even as thou. 
And as thou stand’st before me, fair and bright
And happy, so I stood beside my father,
The idol of his heart, and of his folk. 
O Colchis!  O my homeland!  Dark and dread
They name thee here, but to my loving eyes
Thine is a shining shore!