But speak. How did they die? You will delight me twice

As much again if you say they died in agony.

MESSENGER

When those two children, born of you, had entered in,

Their father with them, and passed into the bride’s house,

We were pleased, we slaves who were distressed by your wrongs.

All through the house we were talking of but one thing,

How you and your husband had made up your quarrel.

Some kissed the children’s hands and some their yellow hair,

And I myself was so full of my joy that I

Followed the children into the women’s quarters.

Our mistress, whom we honor now instead of you,

Before she noticed that your two children were there,

Was keeping her eye fixed eagerly on Jason.

Afterwards, however, she covered up her eyes,

Her cheek paled, and she turned herself away from him,

So disgusted was she at the children’s coming there.

But your husband tried to end the girl’s bad temper,

And said, “You must not look unkindly on your friends.

Cease to be angry. Turn your head to me again.

Have as your friends the same ones as your husband has.

And take these gifts, and beg your father to reprieve

These children from their exile. Do it for my sake.”

She, when she saw the dress, could not restrain herself.

She agreed with all her husband said, and before

He and the children had gone far from the palace,

She took the gorgeous robe and dressed herself in it,

And put the golden crown around her curly locks,

And arranged the set of the hair in a shining mirror,

And smiled at the lifeless image of herself in it.

Then she rose from her chair and walked about the room,

With her gleaming feet stepping most soft and delicate,

All overjoyed with the present. Often and often

She would stretch her foot out straight and look along it.

But after that it was a fearful thing to see.

The color of her face changed, and she staggered back,

She ran, and her legs trembled, and she only just

Managed to reach a chair without falling flat down.

An aged woman servant who, I take it, thought

This was some seizure of Pan or another god,

Cried out, “God bless us,” but that was before she saw

The white foam breaking through her lips and her rolling

The pupils of her eyes and her face all bloodless.

Then she raised a different cry from that “God bless us,”

A huge shriek, and the women ran, one to the king,

One to the newly wedded husband to tell him

What had happened to his bride; and with frequent sound

The whole of the palace rang as they went running.

One walking quickly round the course of a race-track

Would now have turned the bend and be close to the goal,

When she, poor girl, opened her shut and speechless eye,

And with a terrible groan she came to herself.