120
EURIPIDES.
Jason.
Sooth, 'twas no hand of mine that murdered them. 1365
Medea.
Nay, but thine insolence and thy new-forged bonds.
Jason.
How, claim the right for wedlock's sake to slay them!
Medea.
A light affliction count'st thou this to woman?
Jason.
So she be wise:—in thy sight nought were good.
Medea.
These live no more: this, this shall cut thine heart! 1370
Jason.
They live—ah me!—avengers on thine head.
Medea.
The Gods know who began this misery.
Jason.
Yea, verily, thy spirit abhorred they know.
Medea.
Abhorred art thou: I loathe thy bitter tongue.
Jason.
And I thine:—yet were mutual riddance easy. 1375
