Euripides Medea 96

Medea

(within). Ah, me! a wretched suffering woman I! O would that I could die!

Nurse

’Tis as I said, my dear children; wild fancies stir your mother’s heart, wild fury goads her on.

Into the house without delay, come not near her eye, approach her not, beware her savage mood, the fell tempest of her reckless heart.

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In, in with what speed ye may. For ’tis plain she will soon redouble her fury; that cry is but the herald of the gathering storm-cloud whose lightning soon will flash; what will her proud restless

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soul, in the anguish of despair, be guilty of? [Exit Attendant with the children.

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Medea

(within). Ah, me! the agony I have suffered, deep enough to call for these laments! Curse you and your father too, ye children damned, sons of a doomed mother! Ruin seize the whole family!

Nurse

Ah me! ah me! the pity of it! Why, pray, do thy children share their father’s crime? Why hatest thou them? Woe is you, poor children, how do I grieve for you lest ye suffer some outrage! Strange are the tempers of princes,

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and maybe because they seldom have to obey, and mostly lord it over others, change they their moods with difficulty. ’Tis better then to have been trained to live on equal terms. Be it mine to reach old age, not in proud pomp, but in security!

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Moderation wins the day first as a better word for men to use, and likewise it is far the best course for them to pursue; but greatness that doth o’erreach itself, brings no blessing to mortal men; but pays a penalty of greater ruin whenever

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fortune is wroth with a family.

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Chorus

I heard the voice, uplifted loud, of our poor Colchian lady, nor yet is she quiet; speak, aged dame,

for as I stood by the house with double gates I heard a voice of weeping from within, and I do grieve, lady, for the sorrows of this house, for it hath won my love.

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Nurse

’Tis a house no more; all that is passed away long since;

a royal bride keeps Jason at her side, while our mistress pines away in her bower, finding no comfort for her soul in aught her friends can say.

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Medea

(within). Oh, oh! Would that Heaven’s levin bolt would cleave this head in twain!

What gain is life to me? Woe, woe is me! O, to die and win release, quitting this loathed existence!

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Chorus

Didst hear, O Zeus, thou earth, and thou, O light, the piteous note of woe

the hapless wife is uttering? How shall a yearning for that insatiate ¹ resting-place ever hasten for thee, poor reckless one, the end that death alone can bring? Never pray for that.

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And if thy lord prefers a fresh love, be not angered with him for that; Zeus will judge ’twixt thee and him herein. Then mourn not for thy husband’s loss too much, nor waste thyself away.

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Medea

(within). Great Themis, and husband ² of Themis, behold what I am suffering now, though I did bind that accursed one, my husband, by strong oaths to me? O, to see him and his bride some day brought to utter destruction, they and their house with them,

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for that they presume to wrong me thus unprovoked. O my father, my country, that I have left to my shame, after slaying my own brother.

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Nurse

Do ye hear her words, how loudly she adjures Themis, oft invoked, and Zeus, whom

men regard as keeper of their oaths? On no mere trifle surely will our mistress spend her rage.

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Chorus

Would that she would come forth for us to see, and

listen to the words of counsel we might give, if haply she might lay aside the fierce fury of her wrath, and her temper stern. Never be my zeal at any rate denied my friends!

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But go thou and bring her hither outside the house, and tell her this our friendly thought; haste thee ere she do some mischief to those inside the house, for this sorrow of hers is mounting high.

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Nurse

This will I do; but I have my doubts whether I shall persuade

my mistress; still willingly will I undertake this trouble for you; albeit, she glares upon her servants with the look of a lioness with cubs, whenso anyone draws nigh to speak to her.

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Wert thou to call the men of old time rude uncultured boors thou wouldst not err, seeing that they devised their hymns for festive occasions, for banquets, and to grace the board, a pleasure to catch the ear, shed o’er our life,

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but no man hath found a way to allay hated grief by music and the minstrel’s varied strain, whence arise slaughters and fell strokes of fate to o’erthrow the homes of men. And yet this were surely a gain,

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to heal men’s wounds by music’s spell, but why tune they their idle song where rich banquets are spread? for of itself doth the rich banquet, set before them, afford to men delight.

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Chorus

I heard a bitter cry of lamentation!

loudly, bitterly she calls on the traitor of her marriage bed, her perfidious spouse; by grievous wrongs oppressed she invokes Themis, bride of Zeus, witness of oaths, who brought her

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unto Hellas, the land that fronts the strand of Asia, o’er the sea by night through ocean’s boundless gate.

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