d thee, heaped curse on curse!
I've wept, to think our fellow-men could be
So bitter, false. For thou hadst scarce set sail,
When, sudden, all men's talk throughout the land
Was of wild deeds and hideous midnight crimes--
The fruit of witchcraft on far Colchis' shores--
Which thou hadst done.--And, last, a woman, dark
And dreadful, so they said, thou took'st to wife,
Brewer of poisons, slayer of her sire.
What was her name? It had a barbarous sound--

MEDEA (_stepping forward with the children_).

Medea! Here am I.

KING. Is 't she?

JASON (_dully_).

It is.

CREUSA (_pressing close to her father_).

O, horror!

MEDEA (_to_ CREUSA).

Thou'rt wrong. I never slew my sire.
My brother died, 'tis true; but ask my lord
If 'twas my doing.

[_She points to _JASON.]

True it is, fair maid,
That I am skilled to mix such magic potions
As shall bring death or healing, as I will.
And many a secret else I know. Yet, see!
I am no monster, no, nor murderess.

CREUSA. Oh, dreadful, horrible.

KING. And is she thy--wife?

JASON. My wife.

KING. Those children there?

JASON. They are mine own.

KING. Unhappy man!

JASON. Yea, sooth!--Come, children, bring
Those green boughs in your hands, and reach them out
To our lord the King, and pray him for his help,

[_He leads them up by the hand._]

Behold, my lord, these babes. Thou canst not spurn them!

ONE CHILD (_holding out a bough timidly to the _KING).

See, here it is.

KING (_laying his hands gently on the children's heads_).

Poor tiny birdlings, snatched from out your nest!

CREUSA (_kneeling compassionately beside the children_).

Come here to me, poor, homeless, little orphans!
So young, and yet misfortune bows you down
So soon! So young, and oh! so innocent!--
And look, how this one has his father's mien!

[_She kisses the smaller boy._]

Stay here with me. I'll be your mother, sister.

MEDEA (_with sudden fierceness_).

They are not orphans, do not need th