Medea.
Nay, speak not so: gifts sway the Gods, they say.
Gold weigheth more with men than words untold. 965
Hers fortune is; God favoureth now her cause;
Young is her power. Life would I give for ransom
Of my sons' banishment, not gold alone.
Now, children, enter ye the halls of wealth.
Unto your sire's new wife, my lady-queen, 970
Make supplication, pray ye be not exiled,
Giving mine ornaments. Most importeth this,
That she into her hands receive my gifts.
Haste ye, and to your mother bring glad tidings
Of good success in that she longs to win. 975
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
Now for the life of the children mine hope hath been turned to despairing.
No hope any more! On the slaughterward path even now are they faring!
The bride shall receive it, the diadem-garland that beareth enfolden
Doom for the hapless mid glittering sheen:
And to set the adorning of Hades about her tresses golden 980
She shall take it her hands between.
(Ant. 1)
For its glamour of beauty, its splendour unearthly, shall swiftly persuade her
To bedeck her with robe and with gold-wrought crown: she shall soon have arrayed her
