Medea

Euripides

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486113753
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Ancient & Classical Drama
• Index: Literature

One of the most powerful and enduring of Greek tragedies, Medea centers on the myth of Jason, leader of the Argonauts, who has won the dragon-guarded treasure of the Golden Fleece with the help of the sorceress Medea. Having married Medea and fathered her two children, Jason abandons her for a more favorable match, never suspecting the terrible revenge she will take.
Euripides' masterly portrayal of the motives fiercely driving Medea's pursuit of vengeance for her husband's insult and betrayal has held theater audiences spellbound for more than twenty centuries. Rex Warner's authoritative translation brings this great classic of world literature vividly to life.

SCENE: In front of Medea’s house in Corinth. Enter from the house Medea’s nurse.

NURSE How I wish the Argo¹ never had reached the land Of Colchis, skimming through the blue Symplegades, Nor ever had fallen in the glades of Pelion The smitten fir-tree to furnish oars for the hands Of heroes who in Pelias’ name attempted The Golden Fleece! For then my mistress Medea Would not have sailed for the towers of the land of Iolcus, Her heart on fire with passionate love for Jason; Nor would she have persuaded the daughters of Pelias To kill their father, and now be living here In Corinth with her husband and children. She gave Pleasure to the people of her land of exile, And she herself helped Jason in every way. This is indeed the greatest salvation of all—For the wife not to stand apart from the husband. But now there’s hatred everywhere, Love is diseased. For, deserting his own children and my mistress, Jason has taken a royal wife to his bed, The daughter of the ruler of this land, Creon. And poor Medea is slighted, and cries aloud on the Vows they made to each other, the right hands clasped In eternal promise. She calls upon the gods to witness What sort of return Jason has made to her love. She lies without food and gives herself up to suffering, Wasting away every moment of the day in tears. So it has gone since she knew herself slighted by him. Not stirring an eye, not moving her face from the ground, No more than either a rock or surging sea water She listens when she is given friendly advice. Except that sometimes she twists back her white neck and Moans to herself, calling out on her father’s name,

And her land, and her home betrayed when she came away
with
A man who now is determined to dishonor her.
Poor creature, she has discovered by her sufferings
What it means to one not to have lost one’s own country.
She has turned from the children and does not like to see
them.
I am afraid she may think of some dreadful thing,
For her heart is violent. She will never put up with
The treatment she is getting. I know and fear her
Lest she may sharpen a sword and thrust to the heart,
Stealing into the palace where the bed is made,
Or even kill the king and the new-wedded groom,
And thus bring a greater misfortune on herself.
She’s a strange woman. I know it won’t be easy
To make an enemy of her and come off best.
But here the children come. They have finished playing.
They have no thought at all of their mother’s trouble.
Indeed it is not usual for the young to grieve.

(Enter from the right the slave who is the tutor to Medea’s two small children. The children follow him.)

TUTOR You old retainer of my mistress’ household,

Why are you standing here all alone in front of the Gates and moaning to yourself over your misfortune? Medea could not wish you to leave her alone.

NURSE Old man, and guardian of the children of Jason,

If one is a good servant, its a terrible thing
When one’s master’s luck is out; it goes to ones heart.
So I myself have got into such a state of grief
That a longing stole over me to come outside here
And tell the earth and air of my mistress’ sorrows.

TUTOR Has the poor lady not yet given up her crying?

NURSE Given up? She’s at the start, not halfway through her tears.

TUTOR Poor fool—if I may call my mistress such a name—

How ignorant she is of trouble more to come.

NURSE What do you mean, old man? You needn’t fear to speak.

TUTOR Nothing. I take back the words which I used just now.

NURSE Don’t, by your beard, hide this from me, your fellow-servant.

If need be, I’ll keep quiet about what you tell me.

TUTOR I heard a person saying, while I myself seemed

Not to be paying attention, when I was at the place
Where the old draught-players sit, by the holy fountain,
That Creon, ruler of the land, intends to drive
These children and their mother in exile from Corinth.
But whether what he said is really true or not
I do not know. I pray that it may not be true.

NURSE And will Jason put up with it that his children

Should suffer so, though he’s no friend to their mother?

TUTOR Old ties give place to new ones. As for Jason, he

No longer has a feeling for this house of ours.

NURSE It’s black indeed for us, when we add new to old

Sorrows before even the present sky has cleared.

TUTOR But you be silent, and keep all this to yourself.

It is not the right time to tell our mistress of it.

NURSE Do you hear, children, what a father he is to you?

I wish he were dead—but no, he is still my master.
Yet certainly he has proved unkind to his dear ones.

TUTOR What’s strange in that? Have you only just discovered

That everyone loves himself more than his neighbor?
Some have good reason, others get something out of it.
So Jason neglects his children for the new bride.

NURSE Go indoors, children. That will be the best thing.

And you, keep them to themselves as much as pos-
sible.
Don’t bring them near their mother in her angry mood.
For I’ve seen her already blazing her eyes at them
As though she meant some mischief and I am sure that
She’ll not stop raging until she has struck at someone.
May it be an enemy and not a friend she hurts!

(Medea is heard inside the house.)

MEDEA Ah, wretch! Ah, lost in my sufferings,

I wish, I wish I might die.

NURSE What did I say, dear children? Your mother

Frets her heart and frets it to anger.
Run away quickly into the house,
And keep well out of her sight.
Don’t go anywhere near, but be careful
Of the wildness and bitter nature
Of that proud mind.
Go now! Run quickly indoors.
It is clear that she soon will put lightning
In that cloud of her cries that is rising
With a passion increasing. O, what will she do,
Proud-hearted and not to be checked on her course,
A soul bitten into with wrong?

(The Tutor takes the children into the house.)

MEDEA Ah, I have suffered

What should be wept for bitterly. I hate you,
Children of a hateful mother. I curse you
And your father. Let the whole house crash.

NURSE Ah, I pity you, you poor creature.

How can your children share in their father’s
Wickedness? Why do you hate them? Oh children,
How much I fear that something may happen!
Great people’s tempers are terrible, always
Having their own way, seldom checked,
Dangerous they shift from mood to mood.
How much better to have been accustomed
To live on equal terms with one’s neighbors.
I would like to be safe and grow old in a
Humble way. What is moderate sounds best,
Also in practice is best for everyone.
Greatness brings no profit to people.
God indeed, when in anger, brings
Greater ruin to great men’s houses.

(Enter, on the right, a Chorus of Corinthian women. They have come to inquire about Medea and to attempt to console her.)

CHORUS I heard the voice, I heard the cry

Of Colchis’ wretched daughter.
Tell me, mother, is she not yet
At rest? Within the double gates
Of the court I heard her cry. I am sorry
For the sorrow of this home. O, say, what has happened?

NURSE There is no home. It’s over and done with.

Her husband holds fast to his royal wedding,
While she, my mistress, cries out her eyes
There in her room, and takes no warmth from
Any word of any friend.

MEDEA Oh, I wish

That lightning from heaven would split my head open.
Oh, what use have I now for life?
I would find my release in death
And leave hateful existence behind me.

CHORUS O God and Earth and Heaven!

Did you hear what a cry was that
Which the sad wife sings?
Poor foolish one, why should you long
For that appalling rest?
The final end of death comes fast.
No need to pray for that.
Suppose your man gives honor
To another woman’s bed.
It often happens. Don’t be hurt.
God will be your friend in this.
You must not waste away
Grieving too much for him who shared your bed.

MEDEA Great Themis, lady Artemis, ² behold

The things I suffer, though I made him promise,
My hateful husband. I pray that I may see him,
Him and his bride and all their palace shattered
For the wrong they dare to do me without cause.
Oh, my father! Oh, my country! In what dishonor
I left you, killing my own brother for it. ³

NURSE Do you hear what she says, and how she cries

On Themi...