Page:Medea (Webster 1868).djvu/73

 Thus looking on my children's happy eyes.

Women, I cannot. Farewell my past resolves.

My boys go forth with me. What boots it me

To wring their father with their cruel fates,

And earn myself a doubled misery?

It shall not be, shall not. Farewell resolves.

And yet what mood is this? Am I content

To spare my foes and be a laughing-stock?

It must be dared. Why, out upon my weakness

To let such coward thoughts steal from my heart!

Go, children, to the house. And he who lacks

Right now to stand by sacrifice of mine,

Let him look to it. I'll not stay my hand.

Alas! alas!

No surely. Oh my heart thou canst not do it;

Racked heart, let them go safely, spare the boys:

Living far hence with me they'll make thee joy.

No; by the avenging demon-gods in hell,

Never shall be that I should yield my boys

To the despitings of mine enemies.

For all ways they must die, and, since 'tis so,

Better I slay them, I who gave them birth.

All ways 'tis fated: there is no escape.