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Attendant
Thy children, lady, are from exile freed, and gladly did the royal bride accept thy gifts in her own hands, and so thy children made their peace with her.
Thy children, lady, are from exile freed, and gladly did the royal bride accept thy gifts in her own hands, and so thy children made their peace with her.
Medea
Ah!
1005
1
Ah!
1005
Attendant
Why art so disquieted in thy prosperous hour? Why turnest thou thy cheek away, and hast no welcome for my glad news?
Why art so disquieted in thy prosperous hour? Why turnest thou thy cheek away, and hast no welcome for my glad news?
Medea
Ah me!
Ah me!
Attendant
These groans but ill accord with the news I bring.
These groans but ill accord with the news I bring.
Medea
Ah me! once more I say.
Ah me! once more I say.
Attendant
Have I unwittingly announced some evil tidings?
Have I erred in thinking my news was good?
1010
Have I unwittingly announced some evil tidings?
Have I erred in thinking my news was good?
1010
Medea
Thy news is as it is; I blame thee not.
Thy news is as it is; I blame thee not.
Attendant
Then why this downcast eye, these floods of tears?
Then why this downcast eye, these floods of tears?
Medea
Old friend, needs must I weep; for the gods and I with fell intent devised these schemes.
Old friend, needs must I weep; for the gods and I with fell intent devised these schemes.
Attendant
Be of good cheer; thou too of a surety shalt by thy sons yet be brought home again.
1015
Be of good cheer; thou too of a surety shalt by thy sons yet be brought home again.
1015
Medea
Ere that shall I bring others to their home, ah! woe is me!
Ere that shall I bring others to their home, ah! woe is me!
Attendant
Thou art not the only mother from thy children reft. Bear patiently thy troubles as a mortal must.
Thou art not the only mother from thy children reft. Bear patiently thy troubles as a mortal must.
Medea
I will obey; go thou within the house
and make the day’s provision for the children. O my babes, my babes, ye have still a city and a home, where far from me and my sad lot you will live your lives, reft of your mother for ever; while I must to another land in banishment,
1020
or ever I have had my joy of you, or lived to see you happy, or ever I have graced your marriage couch, your bride, your bridal bower, or lifted high the wedding torch. Ah me! a victim of my own self-will. So it was all in vain I reared you, O my sons;
1025
in vain did suffer, racked with anguish, enduring the cruel pangs of childbirth. ’Fore Heaven I once had hope, poor me! high hope of ye that you would nurse me in my age and deck my corpse with loving hands,
1030
a boon we mortals covet; but now is my sweet fancy dead and gone; for I must lose you both and in bitterness and sorrow drag through life. And ye shall never with fond eyes see your mother more, for o’er your life there comes a change.
1035
Ah me! ah me! why do ye look at me so, my children? why smile that last sweet smile? Ah me! what am I to do? My heart gives way when I behold my children’s laughing eyes. Ο, I cannot; farewell to all my former schemes;
1040
I will take the children from the land, the babes I bore. Why should I wound their sire by wounding them, and get me a twofold measure of sorrow? No, no, I will not do it. Farewell my scheming!
1045
I will obey; go thou within the house
and make the day’s provision for the children. O my babes, my babes, ye have still a city and a home, where far from me and my sad lot you will live your lives, reft of your mother for ever; while I must to another land in banishment,
1020
or ever I have had my joy of you, or lived to see you happy, or ever I have graced your marriage couch, your bride, your bridal bower, or lifted high the wedding torch. Ah me! a victim of my own self-will. So it was all in vain I reared you, O my sons;
1025
in vain did suffer, racked with anguish, enduring the cruel pangs of childbirth. ’Fore Heaven I once had hope, poor me! high hope of ye that you would nurse me in my age and deck my corpse with loving hands,
1030
a boon we mortals covet; but now is my sweet fancy dead and gone; for I must lose you both and in bitterness and sorrow drag through life. And ye shall never with fond eyes see your mother more, for o’er your life there comes a change.
1035
Ah me! ah me! why do ye look at me so, my children? why smile that last sweet smile? Ah me! what am I to do? My heart gives way when I behold my children’s laughing eyes. Ο, I cannot; farewell to all my former schemes;
1040
I will take the children from the land, the babes I bore. Why should I wound their sire by wounding them, and get me a twofold measure of sorrow? No, no, I will not do it. Farewell my scheming!
1045
Medea. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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