Not one shall linger in my soul; and curb, I pray,
Thy too impetuous heart, and gently yield to fate.
For resignation ever soothes the woful soul.
[Exit Jason.
As Jason leaves her, calmly satisfied with this disposition of affairs, with no recognition of his wife's great sufferings, the thought of this adds fresh fuel to her passion.
He's gone! And can it be? And shall he thus depart,
Forgetting me and all my service? Must I drop,
Like some discarded toy, out of his faithless heart?
It shall not be. Up then, and summon all thy strength
And all thy skill! And this, the fruit of former crime,
Count nothing criminal that works thy will!
But lo,
We're hedged about; scant room is left for our designs.
Now must the attack be made where least suspicion makes
The least resistance. Now Medea, on! And do,
And dare thine utmost, yea, beyond thy utmost power!
[To the Nurse.] Do thou, my faithful nurse, the comrade
of my grief,
And all the devious wanderings of my checkered course,
Assist me now in these my plans. There is a robe,
The glory of our Colchian realm, the precious gift
Of Phoebus' self to King Æëtes as a proof
Of fatherhood; a gleaming circlet, too, all wrought
With threads of gold, the yellow gold bespangled o'er
With gems, a fitting crown to deck a princess' head.
These treasures let Medea's children bear as gifts
To Jason's bride. But first imbue them with the power
Of magic, and invoke the aid of Hecate;
The woe-producing sacrifices then prepare,
And let the sacred flames through all our courts resound.
The chorus, which is supposed to be present throughout the play, an interested though inactive witness of all that passes, has already been seen to be a partisan of Jason, and hostile to Medea. It now sings a choral interlude opening on the text "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," and continuing with a prayer for Jason's safety. It then recounts the individual history of Jason's companions subsequent to the Argonautic expedition, showing how almost all came to an untimely end. These might indeed be said to have deserved their fate, for they volunteered to assist in that first impious voyage in quest of the golden fleece; but Jason should be spared the general doom, for the task had been imposed upon him by his usurping uncle, Pelias.
As the next scene opens, the old nurse voices the feeling that we all have upon the eve of some expected but unknown horror.
My spirit trembles, for I feel the near approach
Of some unseen disaster. Swiftly grows her grief,
Its own fires kindling; and again her passion's force
Hath leaped to life. I oft have seen her, with the fit
Of inspiration in her soul, confront the gods,
And force the very heavens to her will. But now,
A monstrous deed of greater moment far than these
Medea is preparing. For, but now, did she
With step of frenzy hurry off until she reached
Her stricken home. There, in her chamber, all her stores
Of magic wonders are revealed; once more she views
The things herself hath held in fear these many years,
Unloosing one by one her ministers of ill,
Occult, unspeakable, and wrapt in mystery.
We omit the remainder of the nurse's speech out of regard for Seneca's reputation as an artist, for in a long passage of sixty lines he proceeds to scour heaven, earth, and the waters under the earth, for every form of venomous serpent, noxious herb, and dread, uncanny thing that the mind of man can conceive; and by the time he has his full array of horrors marshaled before us, we have grown so familiar with the gruesome things that we cease to shiver at them. But at last the ingredients for the hell-broth are ready.
These deadly, potent herbs she takes and sprinkles o'er
With serpent venom, mixing all; and in the broth
She mingles unclean birds, a wailing screech-owl's heart,
A ghastly vampire's vitals torn from living flesh.
Her magic poisons all she ranges for her use:
The ravening power of hidden fire is held in these,
While deep in others lurks the numbing chill of frost.
Now magic runes she adds, more potent far.
But lo!
Her voice resounds, and as with maddened step she comes
She chants her charms, while heaven and earth convulsive
rock.
Medea now enters, chanting her incantations. Madness has done fearful work with her in the last few hours. We see at a glance that she has indeed, as the nurse has told us, gone back to