Jason Monologue from Medea

From Medea by Euripides

male · anguished · 53 sec

Ye women by this doorway clustering Speak, is the doer of the ghastly thing Yet here, or fled? What hopeth she of flight? Shall the deep yawn to shield her? Shall the height Send wings, and hide her in the vaulted sky To work red murder on her lords, and fly Unrecompensed? But let her go! My care Is but to save my children, not for her. Let them she wronged requite her as they may. I care not. 'Tis my sons I must some way Save, ere the kinsmen of the dead can win From them the payment of their mother's sin.

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