ACTUS TERTIUS 11
MEDEA.
I will not leave him ever in the world.
CHORUS.
Persistence in these ills—will cure them not.
“Worst” is the hunter, “ worse” the hound, when “ bad ”
Is the stag’s name.
MEDEA.
We rule Iolchus’ land.
CHORUS.
Indeed the hunter follows. I despise
Lewd conduct in the lowest, and detest
Spells hurtful to the head, when ancient hags
Brew their bad liquors at the waning moon,
Barking their chants of murder. But to rule
A land, and wive a king, and breed to him
Kings—then such persons are unsuitable.
MEDEA.
Unless these words were well repented of
I might transform ye into——
CHORUS.
Stay, great queen!
MEDEA.
Well for your respite comes this messenger.
MESSENGER.
Queen and fair mother of great kings unborn,
And mighty chosen of the land of Greece,
A tidings of deep bliss is born to you.