Part 7
Thou who alone canst rule the heart of the war-god, Thou who linkest in peace the opposing nations, Out of thy generous hand abundance pouring-- 65 Thee we offer a daintier gift, O Concord!
Thou who, on the marriage torches attending, Night's dark gloom with favoring hand dispellest, Hither come with languishing footstep drunken, Binding thy temples fair with garlands of roses! 70
Star of the evening, thou who to twilight leadest The day, and hailest again the dawn of the morning, All too slowly thou com'st for lovers impatient, Eager to see thy sign in the glow of the sunset.
The fairest of girls is she, 75 The Athenian maids outshining, Or the Spartan maiden with armor laden, No burden of war declining.
Not by Alpheus' sacred stream, Nor Boeotia's musical water, Is there any fair who can compare 80 With our lovely Corinthian daughter.
Our Thessalian prince excels, In beauty of form and face, Even Bacchus, the son of the fierce-flaming one, Who yokes the wild tigers in place. 85
The murmuring tripod's lord, Though the fairest in heavenly story, The twins with their star bright gleaming afar-- All yield to our Jason in glory. 90
When in her train of courtly maidens she mingles-- Like the bright sunshine paling the starry splendor, 95 Or the full moonlight quenching the Pleiads' brilliance, So does she shine, all peerless, of fair ones the fairest.
Now, O Jason, freed from the hateful wedlock 100 That held thee bound to the barbarous Colchian woman, Joyfully wed the fair Corinthian maiden, While at last her parents' blessings attend thee. 105
Ho then, youths, with licensed jest and rejoicing, Loud let the songs of gladness ring through the city; Rarely against our lords such freedom is given.
Fair and noble band of Bacchus, the thyrsus-bearer, 110 Now is the time to light the glittering torches of pinewood. Shake on high the festal fire with languishing fingers;
Now let the bold and merry Fescennine laughter and jesting Sound through our ranks. Let Medea fare in silence and darkness, If perchance another lord she shall wed in her exile. 115
ACT II
_Medea:_ We are undone! How harsh upon mine ears doth grate The song! and even now I cannot comprehend The vast extent of woe that hath befallen me. Could Jason prove so false? Bereft of native land, And home, and kingdom, could he leave me here alone On foreign shores? Oh, cruel, could he quite reject 120 My sum of service, he who saw the fire and sea With crime o'ercome for his dear sake? And does he think That thus the fatal chapter can be ended? Wild, Devoid of reason, sick of soul, my swift mind darts In all directions seeking whence revenge may come! I would he had a brother! But his wife--'gainst her 125 Be aimed the blow! Can thus my wrongs be satisfied? Nay, nay--to meet my sum of woe must be heaped high The crimes of Greece, of strange barbaric lands, and those Which even thy hands have not known. Now lash thy soul With memory's scourge, and call thy dark deeds in review: 130 The glory of thy father's kingdom reft away; Thy brother, guiltless comrade of thy guilty flight, All hewn in pieces and his corpse strewn on the deep, To break his royal father's heart; and, last of crimes, Old Pelias by his daughters slain at thy command. 135 O impious one, what streams of blood have flowed to work Thy ends! And yet, not one of all my crimes by wrath Was prompted. Love, ill-omened love, suggested all. Yet, what could Jason else have done, compelled to serve Another's will, another's law? He should have died Before he yielded to the tyrant's will. Nay, nay, 140 Thou raging passion, speak not so! For, if he may, I would that Jason still may live and still be mine, As once he was; if not, yet may he still live on, And, mindful of my merits, live without my aid. The guilt is Creon's all, who with unbridled power Dissolves the marriage bond, my children separates 145 From me who bore them, yea, and makes the strongest pledge, Though ratified with straightest oath, of none effect. Let him alone sustain my wrath; let Creon pay The debt of guilt he owes! His palace will I bring To utter desolation; and the whirling fire To far-off Malea's crags shall send its lurid glare. 150
_Nurse:_ Be silent now, I pray thee, and thy plaints confine To secret woe! The man who heavy blows can bear In silence, biding still his time with patient soul, Full oft his vengeance gains. 'Tis hidden wrath that harms; But hate proclaimed oft loses half its power to harm.
_Medea:_ But small the grief is that can counsel take and hide Its head; great ills lie not in hiding, but must rush 155 Abroad and work their will.
_Nurse:_ Oh, cease this mad complaint, My mistress; scarce can friendly silence help thee now.
_Medea:_ But fortune fears the brave, the faint of heart o'erwhelms.
_Nurse:_ Then valor be approved, if for it still there's room. 160
_Medea:_ But it must always be that valor finds its place.
_Nurse:_ No star of hope points out the way from these our woes.
_Medea:_ The man who hopes for naught at least has naught to fear.
_Nurse:_ The Colchians are thy foes; thy husband's vows have failed; Of all thy vast possessions not a jot is left. 165
_Medea:_ Yet I am left. There's left both sea and land and fire And sword and gods and hurtling thunderbolts.
_Nurse:_ The king must be revered.
_Medea:_ My father was a king.
_Nurse:_ Dost thou not fear?
_Medea:_ Not though the earth produced the foe.
_Nurse:_ Thou'lt perish. 170
_Medea:_ So I wish it.
_Nurse:_ Flee!
_Medea:_ I'm done with flight.[9] Why should Medea flee?
_Nurse:_ Thy children!
_Medea:_ Whose, thou know'st.
_Nurse:_ And dost thou still delay?
_Medea:_ I go, but vengeance first.
_Nurse:_ Th' avenger will pursue.
_Medea:_ Perchance I'll stop his course.
_Nurse:_ Nay, hold thy words, and cease thy threats, O foolish one. Thy temper curb; 'tis well to yield to fate's decrees. 175
_Medea:_ Though fate may strip me of all my, myself am left. But who flings wide the royal palace doors? Behold, 'Tis Creon's self, exalted high in Grecian sway.
[Medea _retires to back of stage; exit_ Nurse; _enter_ Creon.]
_Creon:_ Medea, baleful daughter of the Colchian king, Has not yet taken her hateful presence from our realm. 180 On mischief is she bent. Well known her treach'rous power. For who escapes her? Who may pass his days in peace? This curséd pestilence at once would I have stayed By force of arms; but Jason's prayers prevailed. She still May live, but let her free my borders from the fear 185 Her presence genders, and her safety gain by flight. [_He sees_ Medea _approaching_.] But lo, she comes, with fierce and threatening mien, to seek An audience with us. [_To attendants._] Slaves defend us from her touch And pestilential presence! Bid her silence keep, And learn to yield obedience to the king's commands. 190 [_To_ Medea.] Go, speed thy flight, thou thing of evil, fell, and monstrous!
_Medea:_ But tell me what the crime, my lord, or what the guilt That merits exile?
_Creon:_ Let the guiltless question thus.
_Medea:_ If now thou judgest, hear me; if thou reign'st, command.[10]
_Creon:_ The king's command thou must abide, nor question aught. 195
_Medea:_ Unrighteous sovereignty has never long endured.
_Creon:_ Go hence, and to the Colchians complain.
_Medea:_ I go, But let him take me hence who brought me to thy shores.
_Creon:_ Thy prayer has come too late, for fixed is my decree.
_Medea:_ Who judges, and denies his ear to either side, Though right his judgment, still is he himself unjust. 200
_Creon:_ Didst lend thine ear to Pelias, ere thou judgedst him? But come, I'll give thee grace to plead thy goodly cause.
_Medea:_ How hard the task to turn the soul from wrath, when once To wrath inclined; how 'tis the creed of sceptered kings To swerve not from the purposed course they once have taken, 205 Full well I know, for I have tasted royalty. For, though by present storms of ill I'm overwhelmed, An exile, suppliant, lone, forsaken, all forlorn, I once in happier times a royal princess shone, And traced my proud descent from heavenly Phoebus' self. 210 My father's realm extended wide o'er all the land Where Phasis' gentle waters flow, o'er Scythia's plains Whose rivers sweeten Pontus' briny waves; where, too, Thermodon's banks inclose the race of warlike maids, Whose gleaming shields strike terror to their foes. All this 215 My father held in sway. And I, of noble birth, And blessed of heaven, in royal state was high upraised. Then princes humbly sought my hand in wedlock, mine, Who now must sue. O changeful fortune, thou my throne 220 Hast reft away, and given me exile in its stead. Trust not in kingly realms, since fickle chance may strew Their treasures to the winds. Lo, this is regal, this The work of kings, which time nor change cannot undo: To succor the afflicted, to provide at need 225 A trusty refuge for the suppliant. This alone I brought of all my Colchian treasure, this renown, This very flower of fame,[11] that by my arts I saved The bulwark of the Greeks, the offspring of the gods. My princely gift to Greece is Orpheus, that sweet bard 230 Who can the trees in willing bondage draw, and melt The crag's hard heart. Mine too are Boreas' wingéd sons, And Leda's heaven-born progeny, and Lynceus, he, Whose glance can pierce the distant view--yea, all the Greeks, Save Jason; for I mention not the king of kings, The leader of the leaders; he is mine alone, My labor's recompense; the rest I give to you. 235 Nay, come, O king, arraign me, and rehearse my crimes. But stay! for I'll confess them all. The only crime Of which I stand accused is this--the Argo saved. Suppose my maiden scruples had opposed the deed; Suppose my filial piety had stayed my hand: Then had the mighty chieftains fall'n, and in their fate All Greece had been o'erwhelmed; then this, thy son-in-law, 240 Had felt the bull's consuming breath, and perished there. Nay, nay, let fortune, when she will, my doom decree; I glory still that kings have owed their lives to me. But what reward I reap for all my glorious deeds Is in thy hands. Convict me, if thou wilt, of sin, 245 But give him back for whom I sinned. O Creon, see, I own that I am guilty. This much thou didst know, When first I clasped thy knees, a humble suppliant, And sought the shelter of thy royal clemency. Some little corner of thy kingdom now I ask, In which to hide my grief. If I must flee again, 250 Oh, let some nook remote within thy broad domain Be found for me!
_Creon:_ That I my power in mercy wield, And spurn not those who seek my aid let Jason's self My witness be, who, exiled, overwhelmed by fate, 255 And smitten sore with fear, a refuge found with me. For Io, Thessalia's monarch, bent on vengeance dire, Seeks Jason at my hand. The cause, indeed, is just: For that his sire, o'erburdened with the weight of years, Was foully taken off, while by thy wicked guile 260 His guileless sisters' hands were nerved to do the deed. If now our Jason can unlink his cause from thine, 'Tis easy his defense to make, for on his hands No stain of blood is found. His arm no sword upraised, And he has had no part nor lot in this thy crime. 265 No, thou and thou alone the arch contriver art, Uniting in thy person woman's fertile wit And man's effective strength; while in thy reckless heart No thought of reputation dwells to check thy hand. Then go thou hence and purge our kingdom of its stain; Bear hence thy deadly poisons; free the citizens 270 From fear; abiding in some other land than this, Outwear the patience of the gods.
_Medea:_ Thou bid'st me flee? Then give me back my bark wherein to flee. Restore The partner of my flight! Why should I flee alone? I came not thus. Or if avenging war thou fear'st, Then banish both the culprits; why distinguish me 275 From Jason? 'Twas for him old Pelias was o'ercome; For him the flight, the plunder of my father's realm, My sire forsaken and my infant brother slain, And all the guilt that love suggests; 'twas all for him. Deep dyed in sin am I, but on my guilty soul 280 The sin of profit lieth not.
_Creon:_ Why seek delay By speech? Too long thou tarriest.
_Medea:_ I go, but grant This last request: let not the mother's fall o'erwhelm Her hapless babes.
_Creon:_ Then go in peace. For I to them A father's place will fill, and take them to my heart.
_Medea:_ Now by the fair hopes born upon this wedding day, 285 And by thy hopes of lasting sovereignty secure From changeful fate's assault, I pray thee grant from flight A respite brief, while I upon my children's lips A mother's kiss imprint, perchance the last.
_Creon:_ A time Thou seek'st for treachery. 290
_Medea:_ What fraud can be devised In one short hour?
_Creon:_ To those on mischief bent, be sure, The briefest time is fraught with mischief's fatal power.
_Medea:_ Dost thou refuse me, then, one little space for tears?
_Creon:_ Though deep-ingrafted fear would fain resist thy plea, A single day I'll give thee ere my sentence holds. 295
_Medea:_ Too gracious thou. But let my respite further shrink, And I'll depart content.
_Creon:_ Thy life shall surely pay The forfeit if tomorrow's sun beholds thee still In Corinth. But the voice of Hymen calls away To solemnize the rites of this his festal day. 300
[_Exeunt._]
* * * * *
_Chorus:_ Too bold the man who first upon the seas, The treacherous seas, his fragile bark confided; Who, as the well-known shore behind him glided, His life intrusted to the fickle breeze;
And, as his unknown seaward course he sped 305 Within his slender craft with foolish daring, Midway 'twixt life and death went onward faring, Along the perilous narrow margin led.
Not yet were sparkling constellations known, Or sky, all spangled with the starry glory; 310 Not yet could sailors read the warning story By stormy Hyades upon the heavens thrown.
Not yet was Zeus's foster-mother famed, Nor slow Boötes round the north star wheeling; 315 Nor Boreas nor Zephyr gently stealing, Each feared or welcomed, though as yet unnamed.
First Tiphys dared to spread his venturous sail, The hidden lesson of the breezes learning, Now all his canvas to the Zephyrs turning, 320 Now shifting all to catch the changing gale.
Now midway on the mast the yard remains, Now at the head with all its canvas drawing, While eager sailors lure the breezes blowing, And over all the gleaming topsail strains. 325
The guiltless golden age our fathers saw, When youth and age the same horizon bounded; No greed of gain their simple hearts confounded; Their native wealth enough, 'twas all they knew. 330
But lo, the severed worlds have been brought near And linked in one by Argo's hand uniting; While seas endure the oar's unwonted smiting, 335 And add their fury to the primal fear.
This impious bark its guilt in dread atoned 340 When clashing mountains were together driven, And sea, from sea in mighty conflict riven, The stars besprinkled with the leaping foam. 345
Amid these perils sturdy Tiphys paled, And from his nerveless hand the vessel bounded; While stricken Orpheus' lyre no more resounded, And tuneful Argo's warning message failed.
What sinking terror filled each quaking breast, When near the borders of sea-girt Pelorus, 350 There smote upon their ears the horrid chorus Of Scylla's baying wolves around them pressed.
What terror when they neared the Sirens' lair, 355 Who soothe the troubled waves with witching measures! But Orpheus filled their souls with nobler pleasures, And left the foe in impotent despair. 360
And of this wild adventure what the prize, That lured the daring bark with heroes laden? The fleece of gold, and this mad Colchian maiden, Well fit to be the first ship's merchandize.
The sea, subdued, the victor's law obeys; 365 No vessel needs a goddess' art in framing, Nor oars in heroes' hands, the ocean taming: The frailest craft now dares the roughest waves.
Now, every bound removed, new cities rise 370 In lands remote, their ancient walls removing; While men of Ind by Caspian shores are roving, And Persia's face now greets the western skies. 375
The time will come, as lapsing ages flee, When every land shall yield its hidden treasure; When men no more shall unknown courses measure, For round the world no "farthest land" shall be.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] Reading, _Medea fugiam_, as a continuation of Medea's speech.
[10] Retaining _si regnas, iube_ in Medea's speech.
[11] Reading, _gloriae_.
ACT III
[Medea _is rushing out to seek vengeance, while the_ Nurse _tries in vain to restrain her_.]
_Nurse:_ My foster-daughter, whither speedest thou abroad? 380 Oh, stay, I pray thee, and restrain thy passion's force. [Medea _hastens by without answering. The_ Nurse _soliloquizes_.] As some wild Bacchanal, whose fury's raging fire The god inflames, now roams distraught on Pindus' snows, And now on lofty Nysa's rugged slopes; so she, 385 Now here, now there, with frenzied step is hurried on, Her face revealing every mark of stricken woe, With flushing cheek and sighs deep drawn, wild cries, and tears, And laughter worse than tears. In her a medley strange Of every passion may be seen: o'ertopping wrath, 390 Bewailings, bitter groans of anguish. Whither tends This overburdened soul? What mean her frenzied threats? When will the foaming wave of fury spend itself? No common crime, I fear, no easy deed of ill She meditates. Herself she will outvie. For well I recognize the wonted marks of rage. Some deed Is threatening, wild, profane, and hideous. 395 [_Re-enter_ Medea.] Behold Her face betrays her madness. O ye gods, may these Our fears prove vain forebodings!
_Medea_ [_not noticing the_ Nurse's _presence_]: For thy hate, poor soul, Dost thou a measure seek? Let it be deep as love. And shall I tamely view the wedding torches's glare? And shall this day go uneventful by, this day, So hardly won, so grudgingly bestowed? Nay, nay, 400 While, poised upon her heights, the central earth shall bear The heavens up; while seasons run their endless round, And sands unnumbered lie; while days, and nights, and sun, And stars in due procession pass; while round the pole The ocean-fearing bears revolve, and tumbling streams Flow downward to the sea; my grief shall never cease 405 To seek revenge, and shall forever grow. What rage Of savage beast can equal mine? What Scylla famed? What sea-engulfing pool? What burning Aetna placed On impious Titan's heaving breast? No torrent stream, 410 Nor storm-tossed sea, nor breath of flame fanned by the gale, Can check or equal my wild storm of rage. My will Is set on limitless revenge! Will Jason say 415 He feared the power of Creon and Acastus' threats? True love is proof against the fear of man. But grant He was compelled to yield, and pledged his hand in fear: He might at least have sought his wife with one last word Of comfort and farewell. But this, though brave in heart, 420 He feared to do. The cruel terms of banishment Could Creon's son-in-law not soften? No. One day Alone was giv'n for last farewell to both my babes. But time's short space I'll not bewail; though brief in hours, In consequence it stretches out eternally. This day shall see a deed that ne'er shall be forgot. But now I'll go and pray the gods, and move high heaven 425 But I shall work my will!
_Nurse:_ Thy heart all passion-tossed, I pray thee, mistress, soothe, and calm thy troubled soul.
_Medea:_ My troubled soul can never know a time of rest Until it sees all things o'erwhelmed in common doom. All must go down with me! 'Tis sweet such death to die.
[_Exit_ Medea.]
_Nurse_ [_calling after her_]: Oh, think what perils thou must meet if thou persist! 430 No one with safety may defy a sceptered king.
[_Enter_ Jason.]
_Jason:_ O heartless fate, if frowns or smiles bedeck thy brow, How often are thy cures far worse than the disease They seek to cure! If, now, I wish to keep the troth 435 I plighted to my lawful bride, my life must pay The forfeit; if I shrink from death, my guilty soul Must perjured be. I fear no power that man can wield; But in my heart paternal love unmans me quite; For well I know that in my death my children's fate Is sealed. O sacred Justice, if in heaven thou dwell'st, 440 Be witness now, that for my children's sake I act. Nay, sure am I that even she, Medea's self, Though fierce she is of soul and brooking no restraint, Will see her children's good outweighing all her wrongs. With this good argument my purpose now is fixed, 445 In humble wise to brave her wrath. [_Enter_ Medea.] At sight of me Her raging fury flames anew! Hate, like a shield, She bears, and in her face is pictured all her woe.