rushed to her
And caught her in my arms, and to my lips.
I put her poor scorched fingers, blowing hard
To ease the burning pain. The little maid
E'en through her bitter tears smiled up at me
And, softly sobbing, whispered in my ear,
"It is not much! I do not mind the pain!"
Gods! That she should be burned to death? Oh, gods!

[_He turns fiercely upon_ GORA.]

And as for thee,--if I should plunge my sword
Ten, twenty times, up to the hilt, clean through
Thy body, would that bring my daughter back?
Or, could I find that hideous witch-wife--Stay!
Where went she, that hath robbed me of my child?
I'll shake an answer straight from out thy mouth,
Ay, though thy soul come with it, if thou'lt not
Declare to me this instant where she's gone!

GORA. I know not--and I care no whit to know!
Let her go forth alone to her sure doom.
Why dost thou tarry? Slay me! For I have
No wish to live!

KING. We'll speak of that anon;
But first I'll have thy answer!

JASON (_behind the scenes_).

Where's Medea?
Bring her before my face! Medea!

[_He enters suddenly with drawn sword._]

Nay,
They told me she was caught! Where is she, then?

(_To_ GORA.)

Ha! Thou here? Where's thy mistress?

GORA. Fled away!

JASON. Hath she the children?

GORA. Nay!

JASON. Then they are--

GORA. Dead!
Yea, dead! thou smooth-tongued traitor, dead, I say!
She sought to put them where thine eyes could never
Take joy in them again; but, knowing well
No spot on earth so sacred was but thou
To find them wouldst break in, she hid them, safe
Forever, in the grave! Ay, stand aghast,
And stare upon the pavement! Thou canst never
Recall thy babes to life! They're gone for aye!
And, for their sake, I'm glad! No, I am not,
For their sake--but because thou dost despair,
That, smooth-tongued traitor, glads my heart indeed!
Was it not thou that drove her to this crime,
And thou, false King, with thine hypocrisy?
She was