Henceforth among my friends and well-wishers.

MESSENGER. What say’st thou? Woman, is thy mind within

Clear, and not raving? Thou art found in sin

Most bloody wrought against the king’s high head,

And laughest at the tale, and hast no dread?

MEDEA. I have words also that could answer well

Thy word. But take thine ease, good friend, and tell,

How died they? Hath it been a very foul

Death, prithee? That were comfort to my soul.

MESSENGER. When thy two children, hand in hand entwined,

Came with their father, and passed on to find

The new-made bridal rooms, Oh, we were glad,

We thralls, who ever loved thee well, and had

Grief in thy grief. And straight there passed a word

From ear to ear, that thou and thy false lord

Had poured peace offering upon wrath foregone.

A right glad welcome gave we them, and one

Kissed the small hand, and one the shining hair:

Myself, for very joy, I followed where

The women’s rooms are. There our mistress… she

Whom now we name so… thinking not to see

Thy little pair, with glad and eager brow

Sate waiting Jason. Then she saw, and slow

Shrouded her eyes, and backward turned again,

Sick that thy children should come near her. Then

Thy husband quick went forward, to entreat

The young maid’s fitful wrath. “Thou wilt not meet

Love’s coming with unkindness? Nay, refrain

Thy suddenness, and turn thy face again,

Holding as friends all that to me are dear,

Thine husband. And accept these robes they bear

As gifts: and beg thy father to unmake

His doom of exile on them—for my sake.”

When once she saw the raiment, she could still

Her joy no more, but gave him all his will.

And almost ere the father and the two

Children were gone from out the room, she drew

The flowered garments forth, and sate her down

To her arraying: bound the golden crown

Through her long curls, and in a mirror fair

Arranged their separate clusters, smiling there

At the dead self that faced her. Then aside

She pushed her seat, and paced those chambers wide

Alone, her white foot poising delicately—

So passing joyful in those gifts was she!—

And many a time would pause, straight-limbed, and wheel

Her head to watch the long fold to her heel

Sweeping. And then came something strange. Her cheek

Seemed pale, and back with crooked steps and weak

Groping of arms she walked, and scarcely found

Her old seat, that she fell not to the ground.

Among the handmaids was a woman old

And grey, who deemed, I think, that Pan had hold

Upon her, or some spirit, and raised a keen

Awakening shout; till through her lips was seen

A white foam crawling, and her eyeballs back

Twisted, and all her face dead pale for lack

Of life: and while that old dame called, the cry