may 'scape this onward-pressing fate
That threatens us so near. Here Corinth lies;
Hither, long years agone, a lonely youth,
I wandered, fleeing my uncle's wrath and hate;
And Creon, king of Corinth, took me in,--
A guest-friend was he of my father's house--
And cherished me ev'n as a well-loved son.
Full many a year I dwelt here, safe and happy.
And now--

MEDEA. Thou'rt silent!

JASON. Now, when all the world
Flouts me, avoids me, now, when each man's hand
In blind, unreasoning rage is raised to strike,
I hope to find a refuge with this king.--
One fear I have, though, and no idle one.

MEDEA. And what is that?

JASON. Me he will shelter safe--
That I hold certain--and my children, too,
For they are mine. But thee--

MEDEA. Nay, have no fear.
If he take them, as being thine, then me,
Who am thine as well, he will not cast away.

JASON. Hast thou forgotten all that lately chanced
There in my home-land, in my uncle's house,
When first I brought thee from dark Colchis' shores?
Hast thou forgot the scorn, the black distrust
In each Greek visage when it looked on thee,
A dark barbarian from a stranger-land?
They cannot know thee as I do,--true wife
And mother of my babes;--homekeepers they,
Nor e'er set foot on Colchis' magic strand
As I.

MEDEA. A bitter speech. What is the end?

JASON. The worst misfortune of mankind is this:
Calm and serene and unconcerned to court
Fate's heaviest blows, and then, when these have fallen,
To whine and cringe, bewailing one's sad lot.--
Such folly we will none of, thou and I.
For now I seek King Creon, to proclaim
My right as guest-friend, and to clear away
These clouds of dark distrust that threaten storm.--
Meanwhile, take thou the babes and get thee hence
Without the city walls. There wait, until--

MEDEA. Till when?

JASON. Until--Why hidest thou thy face?

MEDEA. Ah, say no more! This is that bitter fate
Whereof my father warned me! Said he not