From Jason and Medeia
He moons out the
as a priest, and she’s impressed by it. — Oh my but
can be pretty, when he likes! He kisses her hand and
tells her, “Do not
be afraid, Mother. I’m doing what the gods demand.
show it. We used to be rich, Mother. Now that
we ought to have learned that nothing counts but the
Let me serve them; then when you die, you’ll die in
whether I’m near or not. You’ve told me yourself,
that all there is in the world, at last, is the war or peace of dying men
and the old undying gods. The omens favor the trip. I must go.” And he
kisses her cheeks.
Cunning burled so deep he can’t see it himself! Omens! Did he ask his
friends the augurers what omens they see for his mother? Or Pelias? Or the
city? Would that the
And then she was gone; her black shawl
vanished in the crowd.
My throat was dry with shame. I was numb. I stood
to think. If I could have summoned speech that instant,
have called it off on the spot, to hell with the
But then, from nowhere, a man appeared at my side,
or god, who knows? — hooded till only his beard