MEDEA.  Thy mother bids you tarry.  Wait, I say!—­
             When I bethink me how they are my blood,
             My very flesh, the babes I bore so long
             In my own womb, and nourished at my breast,
             When I bethink me ’tis my very self
             That turns against me, in my inmost soul
             Fierce anger stabs me knife-like, bloody thoughts
             Rise fast within me!—­

(To the children.)

What hath mother done,
To make you flee her sight and run away
To hide in strangers’ bosoms?

BOY.  Thou dost seek
             To steal us both away, and shut us up
             Within thy boat again, where we were both
             So sick and dizzy.  We would rather stay
             Here, would we not, my brother?

YOUNGER BOY.  Yea!

MEDEA.  Thou, too,
             Absyrtus?  But ’tis better, better so! 
             Come hither!

BOY.  I’m afraid!

MEDEA.  Come here, I say!

BOY.  Nay, thou wilt hurt me!

MEDEA.  Hurt thee?  Thou hast done
             Naught to deserve it!

Boy.  Once thou flung’st me down
             Upon the pavement, hard, because I looked
             So like my father.  But he loves me for it! 
             I’d rather stay with him, and with that good
             And gentle lady!

MEDEA.  Thou shalt go to her,
             E’en to that gentle lady!—­How his mien
             Is like to his, the traitor’s!  How his words
             Are syllabled like Jason’s!—­Patience!  Wait!

YOUNGER BOY.  I’m sleepy!

BOY.  Let’s lie down and go to sleep. 
             It’s late.

MEDEA.  Ye’ll have your fill of sleep ere long! 
             Go, lay you down upon those steps to rest,
             While I take counsel with myself.—­Ah, see
             How watchfully he guides the younger one,
             Takes off his little mantle, wraps it warm
             And close about his shoulders, now lies down
             Beside him, clasping hands!—­He never was
             A naughty child!—­O children, children mine!

BOY (starting up).

Dost want us?

MEDEA.  Nay, lie down, and go to sleep! 
             What would I give, if I could sleep as sound!

[The boy lies down again, and both go to sleep. MEDEA seats herself on a bench opposite the children.  It grows darker and darker.]

MEDEA.  The night is falling, stars are climbing high,
             Shedding their kindly beams on all below—­
             The same that shone there yestere’en, as though
             All things today were as they were before. 
             And yet ’twixt now and yesterday there yawns