Medea

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.

  1. Take it, and advance to the post whence starts thy life of sorrow! Away with cowardice! Give not one thought to thy babes,
    how dear they are or how thou art their mother This one brief day forget thy children dear, and after that lament; for though thou wilt slay them yet
  2. they were thy darlings still, and[*](The construction is intentionally irregular. Her emotion prevents a grammatical completion of the sentence.) am a lady of sorrows.
Chorus
  1. O earth, O sun whose beam illumines all, look, look upon this lost woman, ere she stretch forth, her murderous hand upon her sons for blood;