SCENE the TENTH.
LYCANDER, THEANO and JASON.
JASON.
Medea to thy temple
Is fled from all her virgins, who entreat
Thy kind permission to pursue her steps,
Where'er her frenzy leads.
THEANO.
My help is ready.
And to thy guardian care I trust my brother,
Whom Creon threatens with immediate death.
Yet something whispers, something sure divine,
That other clouds of black events will break,
Ere a new morning rise on troubled Corinth,
And we surviving each portentous storm
Derive a sad security from horror.
