We should torment each other, thou and I?
But no!--My spirit is not broken yet!
All that I was, all that I had, is gone,
Save this: I am thy wife! To that I'll cling
Even to death.

JASON. Why twist my kindly words
To a false meaning that I never dreamed of?

MEDEA. Prove that I twist thy words! I'll thank thee for it.
Quick, quick! The king draws nigh.--Let thy heart speak!

JASON. So, wait we here the breaking of the storm.

[GORA _comes out of the tent with the two children_; MEDEA _places
herself between the children, and at first waits in the distance,
watching anxiously all that passes. The_ KING _enters with his daughter
and attended by youths and maidens who carry the vessels for the
sacrifice._]

KING. Where is this stranger?--Who he is, my heart,
By its wild beating, warns me; wanderer,
And banished from his homeland, nay, mayhap
E'en guilty of those crimes men charge him with.--
Where is the stranger?

JASON. Here, my lord, bowed low
Before thee, not a stranger, though estranged.
A suppliant I, and come to pray thine aid.
Thrust forth from house and home, by all men shunned,
I fly to thee, my guest-friend, and beseech
In confidence the shelter of thy roof.

CREUSA. Ay, it is he! Look, father, 'tis Prince Jason!

[_She takes a step toward him._]

JASON. Yea, it is I. And is this thou, Creusa,
Crowned with a yet more gentle, radiant grace,
But still the same? O, take me by the hand
And lead me to thy father, where he stands
With thoughtful brow, fixing his steady gaze
Upon my face, and dallies with his doubt
Whether to greet me kindly. Is he wroth
At me, or at my guilt, which all men cry?

CREUSA (_taking_ JASON's _hand and leading him to her father_).

See, father, 'tis Prince Jason!

KING. He is welcome.

JASON. Thy distant greeting shows me clear what place
Now best beseems me. Here at thy feet I fall
And clasp thy knees, and stretch a timid hand
To touch thy chin. Grant me my prayer, O King!
Receive and shelter a poor suppliant wretch!

KING. Rise, Jason.

JASON. Ne