ACT III
Scene I
Medea, Nurse.
Nurse. Stay, foster-child, why fly so swiftly hence?
Restrain thy wrath! curb thy impetuous haste! 365
As a Bacchante, frantic with the god
And filled with rage divine, uncertain walks
The top of snowy Pindus or the peak
Of Nyssa, so Medea wildly goes
Hither and thither; on her cheek the stain 370
Of bitter tears, her visage flushed, her breast
Shaken by sobs. She cries aloud, her eyes
Are drowned in scalding tears; again she laughs;
All passions surge within her soul; she stays
Her steps, she threatens, makes complaint, weeps, groans. 375
Where will she fling the burden of her soul?
Where wreak her vengeance? where will break this wave
Of fury? Passion overflows! she plans
No easy crime, no ordinary deed.
She conquers self; I recognize old signs 380
Of raging; something terrible she plans,
Some deed inhuman, devilish, and wild.
Ye gods, avert the horrors I foresee!
Medea. Dost thou seek how to show thy hate, poor wretch?
Imitate love! And must I then endure 385
Without revenge the royal marriage-torch?
Shall this day prove unfruitful, sought and gained
Only by earnest effort? While the earth
Hangs free within the heavens; while the vault
Of heaven sweeps round the earth with changeless change; 390
While the sands lie unnumbered; while the day
Follows the sun, the night brings up the stars;
Arcturus never wet in ocean's wave
Rolls round the pole; while rivers seaward flow,
My hate shall never cease to seek revenge. 395
Did ever fierceness of a ravening beast;
Or Scylla or Charybdis sucking down
The waters of the wild Ausonian
And the Sicilian seas; or Ætna fierce,
That holds imprisoned great Enceladus 400
Breathing forth flame, so glow as I with threats?
Not the swift rivers, nor the force of flame
By storm-wind fanned, can imitate my wrath.
I will o'erthrow and bring to naught the world!
Does Jason fear the king? Thessalian war? 405
True love fears nothing. He was forced to yield,
Unwillingly he gave his hand. But still
He might have sought his wife for one farewell.
This too he feared to do. He might have gained
From Creon some delay of banishment. 410
One day is granted for my two sons' sake!
I do not make complaint of too short time,
It is enough for much; this day shall see
What none shall ever hide. I will attack
The very gods, and shake the universe! 415
Nurse. Lady, thy spirit so disturbed by ills
Restrain, and let thy storm-tossed soul find rest.
Medea. Rest I can never find until I see
All dragged with me to ruin; all shall fall
When I do;—so to share one's woe is joy. 420
Nurse. Think what thou hast to fear if thou persist;
No one can safely fight with princely power.
Scene II
The Nurse withdraws; enter Jason.
Jason. The lot is ever hard; bitter is fate,
Equally bitter if it slay or spare;
God gives us remedies worse than our ills. 425
Would I keep faith with her I deem my wife
I must expect to die; would I shun death
I must forswear myself. Not fear of death
Has conquered honor, love has cast out fear
In that the father's death involves the sons. 430
O holy Justice, if thou dwell in heaven,
I call on thee to witness that the sons
Vanquish their father! Say the mother's love
Is fierce and spurns the yoke, she still will deem
Her children of more worth than marriage joys. 435
My mind is fixed, I go to her with prayers.
She starts at sight of me, her look grows wild,
Hatred she shows and grief.
Medea. Jason, I flee!
I flee, it is not new to change my home,
The cause of banishment alone is new; 440
I have been exiled hitherto for thee.
I go, as thou compellst me, from thy home,
But whither shall I go? Shall I, perhaps,
Seek Phasis, Colchis, and my father's realm
Whose soil is watered by a brother's blood? 445
What land dost thou command me seek? what sea?
The Euxine's jaws through which I led that band
Of noble princes when I followed thee,
Adulterer, through the Symplegades?
Little Iolchos? Tempe? Thessaly? 450
Whatever way I opened up for thee
I closed against myself. Where shall I go?
Thou drivest into exile, but hast given
No place of banishment. I will go hence.
The king, Creusa's father, bids me go, 455
And I will do his bidding. Heap on me
Most dreadful punishment, it is my due.
With cruel penalties let royal wrath
Pursue thy mistress, load my hands with chains,
And in a dungeon of eternal night 460
Imprison me—'tis less than I deserve!
Ungrateful one, recall the fiery bull;
The earth-born soldiers, who at my command
Slew one another; and the golden fleece
Of Phrixus' ram, whose watchful guardian, 465
The sleepless dragon, at my bidding slept;
The brother slain; the many, many crimes
In one crime gathered. Think how, led by me,
By me deceived, that old man's daughters dared
To slay their aged father, dead for aye! 470
By thy hearth's safety, by thy children's weal,
By the slain dragon, by these blood-stained hands
I never spared from doing aught for thee,
By thy past fears, and by the sea and sky
Witnesses of our marriage, pity me! 475
O happy one, give me some recompense!
Of all the ravished gold the Scythians brought
From far, as far as India's burning plains,
Wealth our wide palace hardly could contain,
So that we hung our groves with gold, I took 480
Nothing. My brother only bore I thence,
And him for thee I sacrificed. I left
My country, father, brother, maiden shame:
This was my marriage portion; give her own
To her who goes an exile. 485
Jason. When angry Creon thought to have thee slain,
Urged by my prayers, he gave thee banishment.
Medea. I looked for a reward; the gift I see
Is exile.
Jason. While thou mayst fly, fly in haste!
The wrath of kings is ever hard to bear. 490
Medea. Thou giv'st me such advice because thou lov'st
Creusa, wouldst divorce a hated wife!
Jason. And does Medea taunt me with my loves?
Medea. More—treacheries and murders.
Jason. Canst thou charge
Such sins to me? 495
Medea. All I have ever done.
Jason. It only needs that I should share the guilt
Of these thy crimes!
Medea. Thine are they, thine alone;
He is the criminal who reaps the fruit.
Though all should brand thy wife with infamy,
Thou shouldst defend and call her innocent: 500
She who has sinned for thee, toward thee is pure.
Jason. To me my life is an unwelcome gift
Of which I am ashamed.
Medea. Who is ashamed
To owe his life to me can lay it down.
Jason. For thy sons' sake control thy fiery heart. 505
Medea. I will have none of them, I cast them off,
Abjure them; shall Creusa to my sons
Give brothers?
Jason. To an exile's wretched sons
A mighty queen will give them.
Medea. Never come
That evil day that mingles a great race 510
With race unworthy,—Phœbus' glorious sons
With sons of Sisyphus.
Jason. What, cruel one,
Wouldst thou drag both to banishment? Away!
Medea. Creon has heard my prayer.
Jason. What can I do?
Medea. For me? Some crime perhaps. 515
Jason. A prince's wrath
Is here and there.
Medea. Medea's wrath more fierce!
Let us essay our power, the victor's prize
Be Jason.
Jason. Passion-weary, I depart;
Fear thou to trust a fate too often tried.
Medea. Fortune has ever served me faithfully. 520
Jason. Acastus comes.
Medea. Creon's a nearer foe,
But both shall fall. Medea does not ask
That thou shouldst arm thyself against the king,
Or soil thy hands with murder of thy kin;
Fly with me innocent. 525
Jason. Who will oppose
If double war ensue, and the two kings
Join forces?
Medea. Add to them the Colchian troops
And King Æëtes, Scythian hosts and Greeks,
Medea conquers them!
Jason. I greatly fear
A scepter's power. 530
Medea. Do not covet it.
Jason. We must cut short our converse, lest it breed
Suspicion.
Medea. Now from high Olympus send
Thy thunder, Jupiter; stretch forth thy hand,
Prepare thy lightning, from the riven clouds
Make the world tremble, nor with careful hand 535
Spare him or me; whichever of us dies
Dies guilty; thy avenging thunderbolt
Cannot mistake the victim.
Jason. Try to speak
More sanely; calm thyself. If aught can aid
Thy flight from Creon's house, thou needst but ask. 540
Medea. My soul is strong enough, and wont to scorn
The wealth of kings; this boon alone I crave,
To take my children with me when I go;
Into their bosoms I would shed my tears,
New sons are thine. 545
Jason. Would I might grant thy prayer;
Paternal love forbids me, Creon's self
Could not compel me to it. They alone
Lighten the sorrow of a grief-parched soul.
For them I live, I sooner would resign
Breath, members, light. 550
Medea [aside]. 'Tis well! He loves his sons,
This, then, the place where he may feel a wound!
[To Jason.] Before I go, thou wilt, at least, permit
That I should give my sons a last farewell,
A last embrace? But one thing more I ask:
If in my grief I've poured forth threatening words, 555
Retain them not in mind; let memory hold
Only my softer speech, my words of wrath
Obliterate.
Jason. I have erased them all
From my remembrance. I would counsel thee
Be calm, act gently; calmness quiets pain. 560
[Exit Jason.
Scene III
Medea, Nurse.
Medea. He's gone! And can it be he leaves me so,
Forgetting me and all my guilt? Forgot?
Nay, never shall Medea be forgot!
Up! Act! Call all thy power to aid thee now;
This fruit of crime is thine, to shun no crime! 565
Deceit is useless, so they fear my guile.
Strike where they do not dream thou canst be feared.
Medea, haste, be bold to undertake
The possible—yea, that which is not so!
Thou, faithful nurse, companion of my griefs 570
And varying fortunes, aid my wretched plans.
I have a robe, gift of the heavenly powers,
An ornament of a king's palace, given
By Phœbus to my father as a pledge
Of sonship; and a necklace of wrought gold; 575
And a bright diadem, inlaid with gems,
With which they used to bind my hair. These gifts,
Endued with poison by my magic arts,
My sons shall carry for me to the bride.
Pay vows to Hecate, bring the sacrifice, 580
Set up the altars. Let the mounting flame
Envelop all the house.
Scene IV
Chorus. Fear not the power of flame, nor swelling gale,
Nor hurtling dart, nor cloudy wain that brings
The winter storms; fear not when Danube sweeps 585
Unchecked between its widely severed shores,
Nor when the Rhone hastes seaward, and the sun
Has broken up the snow upon the hills,
And Hermes flows in rivers.
A wife deserted, loving while she hates, 590
Fear greatly; blindly burns her anger's flame,
For kings she cares not, will not bear the curb.
Ye gods, we ask your grace divine for him
Who safely crossed the seas; the ocean's lord
Is angry for his conquered kingdom's sake; 595
Spare Jason, we entreat!
Th' impetuous youth who dared to drive the car
Of Phœbus, keeping not the wonted course,
Died in the furious fires himself had lit.
Few are the evils of the well-known way; 600
Seek the old paths your fathers safely trod,
The sacred federations of the world
Keep still inviolate.
The men who dipped the oars of that brave ship;
Who plundered of their shade the sacred groves 605
Of Pelion; passed between the unstable cliffs;
Endured so many hardships on the deep;
And cast their anchor on a savage coast,
Passing again with ravished foreign gold,
Atoned with fearful death upon the sea 610
For violated law.
The angry deep demanded punishment:
Tiphys to an unskillful pilot left
The rudder. On a foreign coast he fell,
Far from his father's kingdom, and he lies 615
With nameless shades, under a lowly tomb.
Becalmed in her still harbor Aulis held
The impatient ships, remembering in wrath
The king that she lost thence.
The fair Camena's son, who touched his lyre 620
So sweetly that the floods stood still, the winds
Were silent, and the birds forgot to sing,
And forests followed him, on Thracian fields
Lies dead, his head borne down by Hebrus' stream.
He touched again the Styx and Tartarus, 625
But not again returns.
Alcides overthrew the north wind's sons;
He slew that son of Neptune who could take
Unnumbered forms; but after he had made
Peace between land and sea, and opened wide 630
The realm of Dis, lying on Œta's top
He gave his body to the cruel fire,
Destroyed by his wife's gift—the fatal robe
Poisoned with Centaur's blood.
Ankæus fell a victim to the boar 635
Of Caledonia; Meleager slew
His mother's brother, stained his hands with blood
Of his own mother. They have merited
Their lot, but what the crime that he atoned
By death whom Hercules long sought in vain— 640
The tender Hylas drawn beneath safe waves?
Go now, brave soldiers, boldly plow the main,
But fear the gentle streams.
Idmon the serpents buried in the sands
Of Libya, though he knew the future well. 645
Mopsus, to others true, false to himself,
Fell far from Thebes; and he who tried to burn
The crafty Greeks fell headlong to the deep:
Such death was meet for crime.
Oileus, smitten by the thunderbolt, 650
Died on the ocean; and Pheræus' wife
Fell for her husband, so averting fate;
He who commanded that the golden spoil
Be carried to the ships had traveled far,
But, plunged in seething cauldron, Pelias died 655
In narrow limits. 'Tis enough, ye gods;
Ye have avenged the sea!