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Thou diest. The word that shall not swerve is spoken.
But now if stay thou must, stay this one day; 355 (355)
Not so thou'lt compass any deed I dread.
Chorus.
Ah woman forlorn!
Alas for thee worn with thy miseries!
Where now wilt thou turn? with what sheltering host,
What country, what home, a haven for thee 360 (360)
From woes wilt thou find?
Since the god, Medea, hath guided thy way
Mid an issueless wave of woes.
Medea.
On all sides woes are heaped: who shall deny it?
But it is not yet thus: believe it not. 365 (365)
Still waits there danger for the wedded pair,
And for the marriage-kinsfolk no light pangs.
For thinkest thou that ever I would thus
Have fawned on him wer't not to earn my vantage
And with a plot—no, not so much as spoken, 370 (370)
Not touched him with my hands. So he has reached
