Chorus.He rashly ventured who was first to makeIn his frail boat a pathway through the deep;310Who saw his native land behind him fadeIn distance blue; who to the raging windsTrusted his life, his slender keel betweenThe paths of life and death. Our fathers dweltIn an unspotted age, and on the shore315Where each was born he lived in quietness,Grew old upon his father's farm content;With little rich, he knew no other wealthThan his own land afforded. None knew yetThe changing constellations, nor could use320As guides the stars that paint the ether; noneHad learned to shun the rainy Hyades,The Goat, or Northern Wain, that follows slowBy old Boötes driven; none had yetTo Boreas or Zephyr given names.325Rash Tiphys was the first to tempt the deepWith spreading canvas; for the winds to writeNew laws; to furl the sail; or spread it wideWhen sailors longed to fly before the gale,And the red topsail fluttered in the breeze.330The world so wisely severed by the seasThe pine of Thessaly united, badeThe distant waters bring us unknown fears.The cursed leader paid hard penaltyWhen the two cliffs, the gateway of the sea,335Moved as though smitten by the thunderbolt,And the imprisoned waters smote the stars.Bold Tiphys paled, and from his trembling handLet fall the rudder; Orpheus' music died,His lyre untouched; the Argo lost her voice.340When, belted by her girdle of wild dogs,The maid of the Sicilian straits gives voiceFrom all her mouths, who fears not at her bark?Who does not tremble at the witching songWith which the Sirens calm the Ausonian sea?345The Thracian Orpheus' lyre had almost forcedThose hinderers of ships to follow him!What was the journey's prize? The golden fleece,Medea, fiercer than the raging sea,—Worthy reward for those first mariners!350The sea forgets its former wrath; submitsTo the new laws; and not alone the shipMinerva builded, manned by sons of kings,Finds rowers; other ships may sail the deep.Old metes are moved, new city walls spring up355On distant soil, and nothing now remainsAs it has been. The cold Araxes' streamThe Indian drinks; the Persian quaffs the Rhine;And the times come with the slow-rolling yearsWhen ocean shall strike off the chains from earth,360And a great world be opened. Tiphys then,Another Tiphys, shall win other lands,And Thule cease to be earth's utmost bound.
Chorus.He rashly ventured who was first to makeIn his frail boat a pathway through the deep;310Who saw his native land behind him fadeIn distance blue; who to the raging windsTrusted his life, his slender keel betweenThe paths of life and death. Our fathers dweltIn an unspotted age, and on the shore315Where each was born he lived in quietness,Grew old upon his father's farm content;With little rich, he knew no other wealthThan his own land afforded. None knew yetThe changing constellations, nor could use320As guides the stars that paint the ether; noneHad learned to shun the rainy Hyades,The Goat, or Northern Wain, that follows slowBy old Boötes driven; none had yetTo Boreas or Zephyr given names.325Rash Tiphys was the first to tempt the deepWith spreading canvas; for the winds to writeNew laws; to furl the sail; or spread it wideWhen sailors longed to fly before the gale,And the red topsail fluttered in the breeze.330The world so wisely severed by the seasThe pine of Thessaly united, badeThe distant waters bring us unknown fears.The cursed leader paid hard penaltyWhen the two cliffs, the gateway of the sea,335Moved as though smitten by the thunderbolt,And the imprisoned waters smote the stars.Bold Tiphys paled, and from his trembling handLet fall the rudder; Orpheus' music died,His lyre untouched; the Argo lost her voice.340When, belted by her girdle of wild dogs,The maid of the Sicilian straits gives voiceFrom all her mouths, who fears not at her bark?Who does not tremble at the witching songWith which the Sirens calm the Ausonian sea?345The Thracian Orpheus' lyre had almost forcedThose hinderers of ships to follow him!What was the journey's prize? The golden fleece,Medea, fiercer than the raging sea,—Worthy reward for those first mariners!350The sea forgets its former wrath; submitsTo the new laws; and not alone the shipMinerva builded, manned by sons of kings,Finds rowers; other ships may sail the deep.Old metes are moved, new city walls spring up355On distant soil, and nothing now remainsAs it has been. The cold Araxes' streamThe Indian drinks; the Persian quaffs the Rhine;And the times come with the slow-rolling yearsWhen ocean shall strike off the chains from earth,360And a great world be opened. Tiphys then,Another Tiphys, shall win other lands,And Thule cease to be earth's utmost bound.
Medea, Nurse.
Nurse.Stay, foster-child, why fly so swiftly hence?Restrain thy wrath! curb thy impetuous haste!365As a Bacchante, frantic with the godAnd filled with rage divine, uncertain walksThe top of snowy Pindus or the peakOf Nyssa, so Medea wildly goesHither and thither; on her cheek the stain370Of bitter tears, her visage flushed, her breastShaken by sobs. She cries aloud, her eyesAre drowned in scalding tears; again she laughs;All passions surge within her soul; she staysHer steps, she threatens, makes complaint, weeps, groans.375Where will she fling the burden of her soul?Where wreak her vengeance? where will break this waveOf fury? Passion overflows! she plansNo easy crime, no ordinary deed.She conquers self; I recognize old signs380Of 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 endure385Without revenge the royal marriage-torch?Shall this day prove unfruitful, sought and gainedOnly by earnest effort? While the earthHangs free within the heavens; while the vaultOf heaven sweeps round the earth with changeless change;390While the sands lie unnumbered; while the dayFollows the sun, the night brings up the stars;Arcturus never wet in ocean's waveRolls round the pole; while rivers seaward flow,My hate shall never cease to seek revenge.395Did ever fierceness of a ravening beast;Or Scylla or Charybdis sucking downThe waters of the wild AusonianAnd the Sicilian seas; or Ætna fierce,That holds imprisoned great Enceladus400Breathing forth flame, so glow as I with threats?Not the swift rivers, nor the force of flameBy storm-wind fanned, can imitate my wrath.I will o'erthrow and bring to naught the world!Does Jason fear the king? Thessalian war?405True love fears nothing. He was forced to yield,Unwillingly he gave his hand. But stillHe might have sought his wife for one farewell.This too he feared to do. He might have gainedFrom Creon some delay of banishment.410One 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 seeWhat none shall ever hide. I will attackThe very gods, and shake the universe!415Nurse.Lady, thy spirit so disturbed by illsRestrain, and let thy storm-tossed soul find rest.Medea.Rest I can never find until I seeAll dragged with me to ruin; all shall fallWhen I do;—so to share one's woe is joy.420Nurse.Think what thou hast to fear if thou persist;No one can safely fight with princely power.
Nurse.Stay, foster-child, why fly so swiftly hence?Restrain thy wrath! curb thy impetuous haste!365As a Bacchante, frantic with the godAnd filled with rage divine, uncertain walksThe top of snowy Pindus or the peakOf Nyssa, so Medea wildly goesHither and thither; on her cheek the stain370Of bitter tears, her visage flushed, her breastShaken by sobs. She cries aloud, her eyesAre drowned in scalding tears; again she laughs;All passions surge within her soul; she staysHer steps, she threatens, makes complaint, weeps, groans.375Where will she fling the burden of her soul?Where wreak her vengeance? where will break this waveOf fury? Passion overflows! she plansNo easy crime, no ordinary deed.She conquers self; I recognize old signs380Of 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 endure385Without revenge the royal marriage-torch?Shall this day prove unfruitful, sought and gainedOnly by earnest effort? While the earthHangs free within the heavens; while the vaultOf heaven sweeps round the earth with changeless change;390While the sands lie unnumbered; while the dayFollows the sun, the night brings up the stars;Arcturus never wet in ocean's waveRolls round the pole; while rivers seaward flow,My hate shall never cease to seek revenge.395Did ever fierceness of a ravening beast;Or Scylla or Charybdis sucking downThe waters of the wild AusonianAnd the Sicilian seas; or Ætna fierce,That holds imprisoned great Enceladus400Breathing forth flame, so glow as I with threats?Not the swift rivers, nor the force of flameBy storm-wind fanned, can imitate my wrath.I will o'erthrow and bring to naught the world!Does Jason fear the king? Thessalian war?405True love fears nothing. He was forced to yield,Unwillingly he gave his hand. But stillHe might have sought his wife for one farewell.This too he feared to do. He might have gainedFrom Creon some delay of banishment.410One 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 seeWhat none shall ever hide. I will attackThe very gods, and shake the universe!415
Nurse.Lady, thy spirit so disturbed by illsRestrain, and let thy storm-tossed soul find rest.
Medea.Rest I can never find until I seeAll dragged with me to ruin; all shall fallWhen 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.
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.425Would I keep faith with her I deem my wifeI must expect to die; would I shun deathI must forswear myself. Not fear of deathHas conquered honor, love has cast out fearIn that the father's death involves the sons.430O holy Justice, if thou dwell in heaven,I call on thee to witness that the sonsVanquish their father! Say the mother's loveIs fierce and spurns the yoke, she still will deemHer children of more worth than marriage joys.435My 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;440I 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 realmWhose soil is watered by a brother's blood?445What land dost thou command me seek? what sea?The Euxine's jaws through which I led that bandOf noble princes when I followed thee,Adulterer, through the Symplegades?Little Iolchos? Tempe? Thessaly?450Whatever way I opened up for theeI closed against myself. Where shall I go?Thou drivest into exile, but hast givenNo place of banishment. I will go hence.The king, Creusa's father, bids me go,455And I will do his bidding. Heap on meMost dreadful punishment, it is my due.With cruel penalties let royal wrathPursue thy mistress, load my hands with chains,And in a dungeon of eternal night460Imprison me—'tis less than I deserve!Ungrateful one, recall the fiery bull;The earth-born soldiers, who at my commandSlew one another; and the golden fleeceOf Phrixus' ram, whose watchful guardian,465The sleepless dragon, at my bidding slept;The brother slain; the many, many crimesIn one crime gathered. Think how, led by me,By me deceived, that old man's daughters daredTo slay their aged father, dead for aye!470By thy hearth's safety, by thy children's weal,By the slain dragon, by these blood-stained handsI never spared from doing aught for thee,By thy past fears, and by the sea and skyWitnesses of our marriage, pity me!475O happy one, give me some recompense!Of all the ravished gold the Scythians broughtFrom far, as far as India's burning plains,Wealth our wide palace hardly could contain,So that we hung our groves with gold, I took480Nothing. My brother only bore I thence,And him for thee I sacrificed. I leftMy country, father, brother, maiden shame:This was my marriage portion; give her ownTo her who goes an exile.485Jason.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 seeIs exile.Jason.While thou mayst fly, fly in haste!The wrath of kings is ever hard to bear.490Medea.Thou giv'st me such advice because thou lov'stCreusa, wouldst divorce a hated wife!Jason.And does Medea taunt me with my loves?Medea.More—treacheries and murders.Jason.Canst thou chargeSuch sins to me?495Medea.All I have ever done.Jason.It only needs that I should share the guiltOf 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:500She who has sinned for thee, toward thee is pure.Jason.To me my life is an unwelcome giftOf which I am ashamed.Medea.Who is ashamedTo owe his life to me can lay it down.Jason.For thy sons' sake control thy fiery heart.505Medea.I will have none of them, I cast them off,Abjure them; shall Creusa to my sonsGive brothers?Jason.To an exile's wretched sonsA mighty queen will give them.Medea.Never comeThat evil day that mingles a great race510With race unworthy,—Phœbus' glorious sonsWith 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.515Jason.A prince's wrathIs here and there.Medea.Medea's wrath more fierce!Let us essay our power, the victor's prizeBe Jason.Jason.Passion-weary, I depart;Fear thou to trust a fate too often tried.Medea.Fortune has ever served me faithfully.520Jason.Acastus comes.Medea.Creon's a nearer foe,But both shall fall. Medea does not askThat thou shouldst arm thyself against the king,Or soil thy hands with murder of thy kin;Fly with me innocent.525Jason.Who will opposeIf double war ensue, and the two kingsJoin forces?Medea.Add to them the Colchian troopsAnd King Æëtes, Scythian hosts and Greeks,Medea conquers them!Jason.I greatly fearA scepter's power.530Medea.Do not covet it.Jason.We must cut short our converse, lest it breedSuspicion.Medea.Now from high Olympus sendThy thunder, Jupiter; stretch forth thy hand,Prepare thy lightning, from the riven cloudsMake the world tremble, nor with careful hand535Spare him or me; whichever of us diesDies guilty; thy avenging thunderboltCannot mistake the victim.Jason.Try to speakMore sanely; calm thyself. If aught can aidThy flight from Creon's house, thou needst but ask.540Medea.My soul is strong enough, and wont to scornThe 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.545Jason.Would I might grant thy prayer;Paternal love forbids me, Creon's selfCould not compel me to it. They aloneLighten the sorrow of a grief-parched soul.For them I live, I sooner would resignBreath, members, light.550Medea[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, permitThat 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,555Retain them not in mind; let memory holdOnly my softer speech, my words of wrathObliterate.Jason.I have erased them allFrom my remembrance. I would counsel theeBe calm, act gently; calmness quiets pain.560
Jason.The lot is ever hard; bitter is fate,Equally bitter if it slay or spare;God gives us remedies worse than our ills.425Would I keep faith with her I deem my wifeI must expect to die; would I shun deathI must forswear myself. Not fear of deathHas conquered honor, love has cast out fearIn that the father's death involves the sons.430O holy Justice, if thou dwell in heaven,I call on thee to witness that the sonsVanquish their father! Say the mother's loveIs fierce and spurns the yoke, she still will deemHer children of more worth than marriage joys.435My 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;440I 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 realmWhose soil is watered by a brother's blood?445What land dost thou command me seek? what sea?The Euxine's jaws through which I led that bandOf noble princes when I followed thee,Adulterer, through the Symplegades?Little Iolchos? Tempe? Thessaly?450Whatever way I opened up for theeI closed against myself. Where shall I go?Thou drivest into exile, but hast givenNo place of banishment. I will go hence.The king, Creusa's father, bids me go,455And I will do his bidding. Heap on meMost dreadful punishment, it is my due.With cruel penalties let royal wrathPursue thy mistress, load my hands with chains,And in a dungeon of eternal night460Imprison me—'tis less than I deserve!Ungrateful one, recall the fiery bull;The earth-born soldiers, who at my commandSlew one another; and the golden fleeceOf Phrixus' ram, whose watchful guardian,465The sleepless dragon, at my bidding slept;The brother slain; the many, many crimesIn one crime gathered. Think how, led by me,By me deceived, that old man's daughters daredTo slay their aged father, dead for aye!470By thy hearth's safety, by thy children's weal,By the slain dragon, by these blood-stained handsI never spared from doing aught for thee,By thy past fears, and by the sea and skyWitnesses of our marriage, pity me!475O happy one, give me some recompense!Of all the ravished gold the Scythians broughtFrom far, as far as India's burning plains,Wealth our wide palace hardly could contain,So that we hung our groves with gold, I took480Nothing. My brother only bore I thence,And him for thee I sacrificed. I leftMy country, father, brother, maiden shame:This was my marriage portion; give her ownTo 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 seeIs 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'stCreusa, wouldst divorce a hated wife!
Jason.And does Medea taunt me with my loves?
Medea.More—treacheries and murders.
Jason.Canst thou chargeSuch sins to me?495
Medea.All I have ever done.
Jason.It only needs that I should share the guiltOf 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:500She who has sinned for thee, toward thee is pure.
Jason.To me my life is an unwelcome giftOf which I am ashamed.
Medea.Who is ashamedTo 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 sonsGive brothers?
Jason.To an exile's wretched sonsA mighty queen will give them.
Medea.Never comeThat evil day that mingles a great race510With race unworthy,—Phœbus' glorious sonsWith 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 wrathIs here and there.
Medea.Medea's wrath more fierce!Let us essay our power, the victor's prizeBe 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 askThat thou shouldst arm thyself against the king,Or soil thy hands with murder of thy kin;Fly with me innocent.525
Jason.Who will opposeIf double war ensue, and the two kingsJoin forces?
Medea.Add to them the Colchian troopsAnd King Æëtes, Scythian hosts and Greeks,Medea conquers them!
Jason.I greatly fearA scepter's power.530
Medea.Do not covet it.
Jason.We must cut short our converse, lest it breedSuspicion.
Medea.Now from high Olympus sendThy thunder, Jupiter; stretch forth thy hand,Prepare thy lightning, from the riven cloudsMake the world tremble, nor with careful hand535Spare him or me; whichever of us diesDies guilty; thy avenging thunderboltCannot mistake the victim.
Jason.Try to speakMore sanely; calm thyself. If aught can aidThy flight from Creon's house, thou needst but ask.540
Medea.My soul is strong enough, and wont to scornThe 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 selfCould not compel me to it. They aloneLighten the sorrow of a grief-parched soul.For them I live, I sooner would resignBreath, 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, permitThat 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,555Retain them not in mind; let memory holdOnly my softer speech, my words of wrathObliterate.
Jason.I have erased them allFrom my remembrance. I would counsel theeBe calm, act gently; calmness quiets pain.560
[Exit Jason.
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!565Deceit is useless, so they fear my guile.Strike where they do not dream thou canst be feared.Medea, haste, be bold to undertakeThe possible—yea, that which is not so!Thou, faithful nurse, companion of my griefs570And varying fortunes, aid my wretched plans.I have a robe, gift of the heavenly powers,An ornament of a king's palace, givenBy Phœbus to my father as a pledgeOf sonship; and a necklace of wrought gold;575And 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,580Set up the altars. Let the mounting flameEnvelop all the house.
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!565Deceit is useless, so they fear my guile.Strike where they do not dream thou canst be feared.Medea, haste, be bold to undertakeThe possible—yea, that which is not so!Thou, faithful nurse, companion of my griefs570And varying fortunes, aid my wretched plans.I have a robe, gift of the heavenly powers,An ornament of a king's palace, givenBy Phœbus to my father as a pledgeOf sonship; and a necklace of wrought gold;575And 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,580Set up the altars. Let the mounting flameEnvelop all the house.
Chorus.Fear not the power of flame, nor swelling gale,Nor hurtling dart, nor cloudy wain that bringsThe winter storms; fear not when Danube sweeps585Unchecked between its widely severed shores,Nor when the Rhone hastes seaward, and the sunHas broken up the snow upon the hills,And Hermes flows in rivers.A wife deserted, loving while she hates,590Fear 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 himWho safely crossed the seas; the ocean's lordIs angry for his conquered kingdom's sake;595Spare Jason, we entreat!Th' impetuous youth who dared to drive the carOf Phœbus, keeping not the wonted course,Died in the furious fires himself had lit.Few are the evils of the well-known way;600Seek the old paths your fathers safely trod,The sacred federations of the worldKeep still inviolate.The men who dipped the oars of that brave ship;Who plundered of their shade the sacred groves605Of 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 sea610For violated law.The angry deep demanded punishment:Tiphys to an unskillful pilot leftThe rudder. On a foreign coast he fell,Far from his father's kingdom, and he lies615With nameless shades, under a lowly tomb.Becalmed in her still harbor Aulis heldThe impatient ships, remembering in wrathThe king that she lost thence.The fair Camena's son, who touched his lyre620So sweetly that the floods stood still, the windsWere silent, and the birds forgot to sing,And forests followed him, on Thracian fieldsLies dead, his head borne down by Hebrus' stream.He touched again the Styx and Tartarus,625But not again returns.Alcides overthrew the north wind's sons;He slew that son of Neptune who could takeUnnumbered forms; but after he had madePeace between land and sea, and opened wide630The realm of Dis, lying on Œta's topHe gave his body to the cruel fire,Destroyed by his wife's gift—the fatal robePoisoned with Centaur's blood.Ankæus fell a victim to the boar635Of Caledonia; Meleager slewHis mother's brother, stained his hands with bloodOf his own mother. They have meritedTheir lot, but what the crime that he atonedBy death whom Hercules long sought in vain—640The 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 sandsOf Libya, though he knew the future well.645Mopsus, to others true, false to himself,Fell far from Thebes; and he who tried to burnThe crafty Greeks fell headlong to the deep:Such death was meet for crime.Oileus, smitten by the thunderbolt,650Died on the ocean; and Pheræus' wifeFell for her husband, so averting fate;He who commanded that the golden spoilBe carried to the ships had traveled far,But, plunged in seething cauldron, Pelias died655In narrow limits. 'Tis enough, ye gods;Ye have avenged the sea!
Chorus.Fear not the power of flame, nor swelling gale,Nor hurtling dart, nor cloudy wain that bringsThe winter storms; fear not when Danube sweeps585Unchecked between its widely severed shores,Nor when the Rhone hastes seaward, and the sunHas broken up the snow upon the hills,And Hermes flows in rivers.A wife deserted, loving while she hates,590Fear 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 himWho safely crossed the seas; the ocean's lordIs angry for his conquered kingdom's sake;595Spare Jason, we entreat!Th' impetuous youth who dared to drive the carOf Phœbus, keeping not the wonted course,Died in the furious fires himself had lit.Few are the evils of the well-known way;600Seek the old paths your fathers safely trod,The sacred federations of the worldKeep still inviolate.The men who dipped the oars of that brave ship;Who plundered of their shade the sacred groves605Of 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 sea610For violated law.The angry deep demanded punishment:Tiphys to an unskillful pilot leftThe rudder. On a foreign coast he fell,Far from his father's kingdom, and he lies615With nameless shades, under a lowly tomb.Becalmed in her still harbor Aulis heldThe impatient ships, remembering in wrathThe king that she lost thence.The fair Camena's son, who touched his lyre620So sweetly that the floods stood still, the windsWere silent, and the birds forgot to sing,And forests followed him, on Thracian fieldsLies dead, his head borne down by Hebrus' stream.He touched again the Styx and Tartarus,625But not again returns.Alcides overthrew the north wind's sons;He slew that son of Neptune who could takeUnnumbered forms; but after he had madePeace between land and sea, and opened wide630The realm of Dis, lying on Œta's topHe gave his body to the cruel fire,Destroyed by his wife's gift—the fatal robePoisoned with Centaur's blood.Ankæus fell a victim to the boar635Of Caledonia; Meleager slewHis mother's brother, stained his hands with bloodOf his own mother. They have meritedTheir lot, but what the crime that he atonedBy death whom Hercules long sought in vain—640The 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 sandsOf Libya, though he knew the future well.645Mopsus, to others true, false to himself,Fell far from Thebes; and he who tried to burnThe crafty Greeks fell headlong to the deep:Such death was meet for crime.Oileus, smitten by the thunderbolt,650Died on the ocean; and Pheræus' wifeFell for her husband, so averting fate;He who commanded that the golden spoilBe carried to the ships had traveled far,But, plunged in seething cauldron, Pelias died655In narrow limits. 'Tis enough, ye gods;Ye have avenged the sea!
Nurse.I shrink with horror! Ruin threatens us!How terribly her wrath inflames itself!Her former force awakes, thus I have seen660Medea raging and attacking god,Compelling heaven. Greater crime than thenShe now prepares, for as with frantic stepShe sought the sanctuary of her crimes,She poured forth all her threats; and what before665She feared she now brings forth; lets loose a hostOf poisonous evils, arts mysterious;With sad left hand outstretched invokes all illsThat Libyan sands with their fierce heat create,Or frost-bound Taurus with perpetual snow670Encompasses. Drawn by her magic spellThe serpent drags his heavy length along,Darts his forked tongue, and seeks his destined prey.Hearing her incantation, he draws backAnd knots his swelling body coiling it.—675'They are but feeble poisons earth brings forth,And harmless darts,' she says, 'heaven's ills I seek.Now is the time for deeper sorcery.The dragon like a torrent shall descend,Whose mighty folds the Great and Lesser Bear680Know well; Ophiuchus shall loose his graspAnd poison flow. Be present at my call,Python, who dared to fight twin deities.The Hydra slain by Hercules shall comeHealed of his wound. Thou watchful Colchian one,685Be present with the rest—thou, who first sleptLulled by my incantations.' When the broodOf serpents has been called she blends the juiceOf poisonous herbs; all Eryx' pathless heightsBear, or the open top of Caucasus690Wet with Prometheus' blood, where winter reigns;All that the rich Arabians use to tipTheir poisoned shafts, or the light Parthians,Or warlike Medes; all the brave Suabians cullIn the Hyrcanian forests in the north;695All poisons that the earth brings forth in springWhen birds are nesting; or when winter coldHas torn away the beauty of the grovesAnd bound the world in icy manacles.Whatever herb gives flower the cause of death,700Or juice of twisted root, her hands have culled.These on Thessalian Athos grew, and thoseOn mighty Pindus; on Pangæus' heightShe cut the tender herbs with bloody scythe.These Tigris nurtured with its current deep,705The Danube those; Hydaspes rich in gemsFlowing with current warm through levels dry,Bætis that gives its name to neighboring landsAnd meets the western ocean languidly,Have nurtured these. Those have been cut at dawn;710These other herbs at dead of night were reaped;And these were gathered with the enchanted hook.Death-dealing plants she chooses, wrings the bloodOf serpents, and she takes ill-omened birds,The sad owl's heart, the quivering entrails cut715From the horned owl living;—sorts all these.In some the eager force of flame is found,In some the bitter cold of sluggish ice;To these she adds the venom of her wordsAs greatly to be feared. She stamps her feet;720She sings, and the world trembles at her song.
Nurse.I shrink with horror! Ruin threatens us!How terribly her wrath inflames itself!Her former force awakes, thus I have seen660Medea raging and attacking god,Compelling heaven. Greater crime than thenShe now prepares, for as with frantic stepShe sought the sanctuary of her crimes,She poured forth all her threats; and what before665She feared she now brings forth; lets loose a hostOf poisonous evils, arts mysterious;With sad left hand outstretched invokes all illsThat Libyan sands with their fierce heat create,Or frost-bound Taurus with perpetual snow670Encompasses. Drawn by her magic spellThe serpent drags his heavy length along,Darts his forked tongue, and seeks his destined prey.Hearing her incantation, he draws backAnd knots his swelling body coiling it.—675'They are but feeble poisons earth brings forth,And harmless darts,' she says, 'heaven's ills I seek.Now is the time for deeper sorcery.The dragon like a torrent shall descend,Whose mighty folds the Great and Lesser Bear680Know well; Ophiuchus shall loose his graspAnd poison flow. Be present at my call,Python, who dared to fight twin deities.The Hydra slain by Hercules shall comeHealed of his wound. Thou watchful Colchian one,685Be present with the rest—thou, who first sleptLulled by my incantations.' When the broodOf serpents has been called she blends the juiceOf poisonous herbs; all Eryx' pathless heightsBear, or the open top of Caucasus690Wet with Prometheus' blood, where winter reigns;All that the rich Arabians use to tipTheir poisoned shafts, or the light Parthians,Or warlike Medes; all the brave Suabians cullIn the Hyrcanian forests in the north;695All poisons that the earth brings forth in springWhen birds are nesting; or when winter coldHas torn away the beauty of the grovesAnd bound the world in icy manacles.Whatever herb gives flower the cause of death,700Or juice of twisted root, her hands have culled.These on Thessalian Athos grew, and thoseOn mighty Pindus; on Pangæus' heightShe cut the tender herbs with bloody scythe.These Tigris nurtured with its current deep,705The Danube those; Hydaspes rich in gemsFlowing with current warm through levels dry,Bætis that gives its name to neighboring landsAnd meets the western ocean languidly,Have nurtured these. Those have been cut at dawn;710These other herbs at dead of night were reaped;And these were gathered with the enchanted hook.Death-dealing plants she chooses, wrings the bloodOf serpents, and she takes ill-omened birds,The sad owl's heart, the quivering entrails cut715From the horned owl living;—sorts all these.In some the eager force of flame is found,In some the bitter cold of sluggish ice;To these she adds the venom of her wordsAs greatly to be feared. She stamps her feet;720She sings, and the world trembles at her song.
Medea, before the altar of Hecate.
Medea.Here I invoke you, silent company,Infernal gods, blind Chaos, sunless homeOf shadowy Dis, and squalid caves of DeathBound by the banks of Tartarus. Lost souls,725For this new bridal leave your wonted toil.Stand still, thou whirling wheel, Ixion touchAgain firm ground; come, Tantalus, and drinkUnchecked the wave of the Pirenian fount.Let heavier punishment on Creon wait:—730Thou stone of Sisyphus, worn smooth, roll back;And ye Danaïdes who strive in vainTo fill your leaking jars, I need your aid.Come at my invocation, star of night,Endued with form most horrible, nor threat735With single face, thou three-formed deity!To thee, according to my country's use,With hair unfilleted and naked feetI've trod the sacred groves; called forth the rainFrom cloudless skies; have driven back the sea;740And forced the ocean to withdraw its waves.Earth sees heaven's laws confused, the sun and starsShining together, and the two Bears wetIn the forbidden ocean. I have changedThe circle of the seasons:—at my word745Earth flourishes with summer; Ceres seesA winter harvest; Phasis' rushing streamFlows to its source; the Danube that dividesInto so many mouths restrains its floodOf waters—hardly moving past its shores.750The winds are silent; but the waters speak,The wild seas roar; the home of ancient grovesLoses its leafy shade; the day withdrawsAt my command; the sun stands still in heaven.My incantations move the Hyades.755It is thy hour, Diana!For thee my bloody hands have wrought this crownNine times by serpents girt; those knotted snakesRebellious Typhon bore, who made revoltAgainst Jove's kingdom; Nessus gave this blood760When dying; Œta's funeral pyre providesThese ashes which have drunk the poisoned bloodOf dying Hercules; and here thou seestAlthea's vengeful brand. The harpies leftThese feathers in the pathless den they made765A refuge when they fled from Zete's wrath;And these were dropped by the Stymphalian birdsThat felt the wound of arrows dipped in bloodOf the Lernæan Hydra.The altars find a voice, the tripod moves770Stirred by the favoring goddess. Her swift carI see approach—not the full-orbed that rollsAll night through heaven; but as, with darkened light,Troubled by the Thessalians she comes,So her sad face upon my altars sheds775A murky light. Terrify with new dreadThe men of earth! Costly Corinthian brassSounds in thy honor, Hecate, and on groundMade red with blood I pay these solemn ritesTo thee; for thee have stolen from the tomb780This torch that gives its baleful funeral light;To thee with bowed head I have made my prayer;And in accordance with my country's use,My loose hair filleted, have plucked for theeThis branch that grows beside the Stygian wave;785Like a wild Mænad, laying bare my breast,With sacred knife I cut for thee my arm;My blood is on the altars! Hand, learn wellTo strike thy dearest! See, my blood flows forth!Daughter of Perseus, have I asked too oft790Thine aid? Recall no more my former prayers.To-day as always I invoke thine aidFor Jason's sake alone! Endue this robeWith such a baleful power that the brideMay feel at its first touch consuming fire795Of serpent's poison in her inmost veins;Let fire lurk hid in the bright gold, the firePrometheus gave and taught men how to store—He now atones his daring theft from heavenWith tortured vitals. Mulciber has given800This flame, and I in sulphur nurtured it;I brought a spark from the destroying fireOf Phaeton; I have the flame breathed forthBy the Chimæra, and the fire I snatchedFrom Colchis' savage bull; and mixed with these805Medusa's venom. I have bade all serveMy secret sorcery; now, Hecate, addThe sting of poison, aid the seeds of flameHid in my gift; let them deceive the sightBut burn the touch; let the heat penetrate810Her very heart and veins, stiffen her limbs,Consume her bones in smoke. Her burning hairShall glow more brightly than the nuptial torch!My vows are paid, and Hecate thrice has barked,And shaken fire from her funeral torch.815'Tis finished! Call my sons. My precious gifts,Ye shall be borne by them to the new bride.Go, go, my sons, a hapless mother's sons!Placate with gifts and prayers your father's wife!But come again with speed, that I may know820A last embrace!
Medea.Here I invoke you, silent company,Infernal gods, blind Chaos, sunless homeOf shadowy Dis, and squalid caves of DeathBound by the banks of Tartarus. Lost souls,725For this new bridal leave your wonted toil.Stand still, thou whirling wheel, Ixion touchAgain firm ground; come, Tantalus, and drinkUnchecked the wave of the Pirenian fount.Let heavier punishment on Creon wait:—730Thou stone of Sisyphus, worn smooth, roll back;And ye Danaïdes who strive in vainTo fill your leaking jars, I need your aid.Come at my invocation, star of night,Endued with form most horrible, nor threat735With single face, thou three-formed deity!To thee, according to my country's use,With hair unfilleted and naked feetI've trod the sacred groves; called forth the rainFrom cloudless skies; have driven back the sea;740And forced the ocean to withdraw its waves.Earth sees heaven's laws confused, the sun and starsShining together, and the two Bears wetIn the forbidden ocean. I have changedThe circle of the seasons:—at my word745Earth flourishes with summer; Ceres seesA winter harvest; Phasis' rushing streamFlows to its source; the Danube that dividesInto so many mouths restrains its floodOf waters—hardly moving past its shores.750The winds are silent; but the waters speak,The wild seas roar; the home of ancient grovesLoses its leafy shade; the day withdrawsAt my command; the sun stands still in heaven.My incantations move the Hyades.755It is thy hour, Diana!For thee my bloody hands have wrought this crownNine times by serpents girt; those knotted snakesRebellious Typhon bore, who made revoltAgainst Jove's kingdom; Nessus gave this blood760When dying; Œta's funeral pyre providesThese ashes which have drunk the poisoned bloodOf dying Hercules; and here thou seestAlthea's vengeful brand. The harpies leftThese feathers in the pathless den they made765A refuge when they fled from Zete's wrath;And these were dropped by the Stymphalian birdsThat felt the wound of arrows dipped in bloodOf the Lernæan Hydra.The altars find a voice, the tripod moves770Stirred by the favoring goddess. Her swift carI see approach—not the full-orbed that rollsAll night through heaven; but as, with darkened light,Troubled by the Thessalians she comes,So her sad face upon my altars sheds775A murky light. Terrify with new dreadThe men of earth! Costly Corinthian brassSounds in thy honor, Hecate, and on groundMade red with blood I pay these solemn ritesTo thee; for thee have stolen from the tomb780This torch that gives its baleful funeral light;To thee with bowed head I have made my prayer;And in accordance with my country's use,My loose hair filleted, have plucked for theeThis branch that grows beside the Stygian wave;785Like a wild Mænad, laying bare my breast,With sacred knife I cut for thee my arm;My blood is on the altars! Hand, learn wellTo strike thy dearest! See, my blood flows forth!Daughter of Perseus, have I asked too oft790Thine aid? Recall no more my former prayers.To-day as always I invoke thine aidFor Jason's sake alone! Endue this robeWith such a baleful power that the brideMay feel at its first touch consuming fire795Of serpent's poison in her inmost veins;Let fire lurk hid in the bright gold, the firePrometheus gave and taught men how to store—He now atones his daring theft from heavenWith tortured vitals. Mulciber has given800This flame, and I in sulphur nurtured it;I brought a spark from the destroying fireOf Phaeton; I have the flame breathed forthBy the Chimæra, and the fire I snatchedFrom Colchis' savage bull; and mixed with these805Medusa's venom. I have bade all serveMy secret sorcery; now, Hecate, addThe sting of poison, aid the seeds of flameHid in my gift; let them deceive the sightBut burn the touch; let the heat penetrate810Her very heart and veins, stiffen her limbs,Consume her bones in smoke. Her burning hairShall glow more brightly than the nuptial torch!My vows are paid, and Hecate thrice has barked,And shaken fire from her funeral torch.815'Tis finished! Call my sons. My precious gifts,Ye shall be borne by them to the new bride.Go, go, my sons, a hapless mother's sons!Placate with gifts and prayers your father's wife!But come again with speed, that I may know820A last embrace!
Chorus.Where hastes the blood-stained Mænad, headlong drivenBy angry love? What mischief plots her rage?With wrath her face grows rigid; her proud headShe fiercely shakes; threatens the king in wrath.825Who would believe her exiled from the realm?Her cheeks glow crimson, pallor puts to flightThe red, no color lingers on her face;Her steps are driven to and fro as whenA tiger rages, of its young bereft,830Beside the Ganges in the gloomy woods.Medea knows not how to curb her loveOr hate. Now love and hate together rage.When will she leave the fair Pelasgian fields,The wicked Colchian one, and free from fear835Our king and kingdom? Drive with no slow reinThy car, Diana; let the sweet night hideThe sunlight. Hesperus, end the dreaded day.
Chorus.Where hastes the blood-stained Mænad, headlong drivenBy angry love? What mischief plots her rage?With wrath her face grows rigid; her proud headShe fiercely shakes; threatens the king in wrath.825Who would believe her exiled from the realm?Her cheeks glow crimson, pallor puts to flightThe red, no color lingers on her face;Her steps are driven to and fro as whenA tiger rages, of its young bereft,830Beside the Ganges in the gloomy woods.Medea knows not how to curb her loveOr hate. Now love and hate together rage.When will she leave the fair Pelasgian fields,The wicked Colchian one, and free from fear835Our king and kingdom? Drive with no slow reinThy car, Diana; let the sweet night hideThe sunlight. Hesperus, end the dreaded day.
Messenger, Chorus.
Messenger[enters in haste]. All are destroyed, the royal empire falls,Father and child lie in one funeral pyre.840Chorus.Destroyed by what deceit?Messenger.That which is wontTo ruin princes—gifts.Chorus.Could these work harm?Messenger.I myself wonder, and can hardly deemThe wrong accomplished, though I know it done.Chorus.How did it happen?845Messenger.A destructive fireSpreads everywhere as at command; even nowThe city is in fear, the palace burned.Chorus.Let water quench the flames.Messenger.It will not these,As by a miracle floods feed the fire.The more we fight it so much more it glows.850
Messenger[enters in haste]. All are destroyed, the royal empire falls,Father and child lie in one funeral pyre.840
Chorus.Destroyed by what deceit?
Messenger.That which is wontTo ruin princes—gifts.
Chorus.Could these work harm?
Messenger.I myself wonder, and can hardly deemThe wrong accomplished, though I know it done.
Chorus.How did it happen?845
Messenger.A destructive fireSpreads everywhere as at command; even nowThe city is in fear, the palace burned.
Chorus.Let water quench the flames.
Messenger.It will not these,As by a miracle floods feed the fire.The more we fight it so much more it glows.850
Medea, Nurse.