[She stands there violently agitated and staring dazedly before her.  A trumpet-blast sounds without.]

JASON.  Ha, what is that?

(To MEDEA.)

Why standest silent there? 
Thou’lt rue this moment, that I know full well!

[Another trumpet-blast without.  The KING_ appears suddenly at the door._]

JASON (hurrying to meet him).

What means that warlike trumpet-blast without?

KING.  Unhappy man, canst ask?

JASON.  I do, my lord!

KING.  The stroke that I so feared is fall’n at last.—­
             Before my palace gates a herald stands,
             Sent hither from the Amphictyons’ holy seat,
             Seeking for news of thee and of thy wife,
             Crying to Heaven the doom of banishment
             On both!

JASON.  This, too?

KING.  So is it—.  Peace, he comes.

[The palace doors swing open and a HERALD enters, followed by two trumpeters and, at a little distance, by a numerous suite.]

HERALD.  The blessing of the gods upon this house!

KING (solemnly).

Who art thou?  On what errand art thou come?

HERALD.  A herald of the gods am I, sent forth
             From the ancient council of the Amphictyons
             That speaks its judgments in that holy town
             Of freedom, Delphi.  And I follow close,
             With cries of vengeance, on the guilty tracks
             Of those false kinsmen of King Pelias,
             Who ruled Iolcos, ere he fell in death.

KING.  Thou seek’st the guilty?  Seek in his own house,
             ’Mongst his own children seek them—­but not here!

HERALD.  Here have I found them.  Here I’ll speak my charge: 
             Thou art accursed, Jason, thou, and she,
             Thy wife!  With evil magic are ye charged,
             Wherewith thine uncle darkly ye did slay.

JASON.  A lie!  Naught know I of mine uncle’s death!

HERALD.  Then ask thy wife, there; she will know, perchance.

JASON.  Was ’t she that slew him?

HERALD.  Not with her own hand,
             But by those magic arts ye know so well,
             Which ye have brought here from that foreign land. 
             For, when the king fell sick—­perchance e’en then
             A victim, for the signs of his disease
             Were strange and dreadful—­to Medea then
             His daughters came, and begged for healing balms
             From her who knew so well to heal.  And she
             Gave swift consent, and followed them.

JASON.  Nay, hold! 
             She went not!  I forbade it, and she stayed.