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. Where[*](Of the numerous emendations of this corrupt passage, Nauck’s τέκνυν for τέκνοις is the simplest, if it goes far enough. Verrall suggests that a word has fallen out after the second ἢ and conjectures μένος of τέχναν. This is not less satisfactory than most of the emendations.) shall hand or heart find hardihood enough in wreaking such a fearsome deed upon thy sons?
  2. How wilt thou look upon thy babes, and still without a tear retain thy bloody purpose? Thou canst not, when they fall at thy feet for mercy, steel thy heart and dip
  3. in their blood thy hand.
Jason
  1. I am come at thy bidding, for e’en though thy hate for me is bitter thou shalt not fail in this small boon, but I will hear what new request thou hast to make of me, lady.
Medea
  1. Jason, I crave thy pardon
  2. for the words I spoke, and well thou mayest brook my burst of passion, for ere now we twain have shared much love. For I have reasoned with my soul and railed upon me thus, Ah! poor heart 1 why am I thus distraught, why so angered ’gainst all good advice,
  3. why have I come to hate the rulers of the land, my husband too, who does the best for me he can, in wedding with a princess and rearing for my children noble brothers?
    Shall I not cease to fret? What possesses me, when heaven its best doth offer?
  4. Have I not my children to consider? do I forget that we are fugitives, in need of friends? When I had thought all this I saw how foolish I had been, how senselessly enraged. So now I do commend thee and think thee most wise in forming
  5. this connexion for us; but I was mad, I who should have shared in these designs, helped on thy plans, and lent my aid to bring about the match, only too pleased to wait upon thy bride. But what we are, we are, we women, evil I will not say;
  6. wherefore thou shouldst not sink to our sorry level nor with our weapons meet our childishness.
  7. I yield and do confess that I was wrong then, but now have I come to a better mind. Come hither, my children, come, leave the house,
  8. step forth, and with me greet and bid farewell to your father, be reconciled from all past bitterness unto your friends, as now your mother is; for we have made a truce and anger is no more. Enter the Children. Take his right hand; ah me! my sad fate!
  9. when I reflect, as now, upon the hidden future. O my children, since there awaits you even thus a long, long life, stretch forth the hand to take a fond farewell. Ah me! how new[*](ἀρτίδακρυς. The Schol. explains this word as ready to shed tears, but ἄρτι, as Mr. Evelyn Abbott points out, can scarcely bear such a meaning. (Cf., in Heberden’s edition of the Medea, his note.)) to tears am I, how full of fear! For now that I have at last released me from my quarrel with your father,
  10. I let the tear-drops stream adown my tender cheek.
Chorus
  1. From my eyes too bursts forth the copious tear; O, may no greater ill than the present e’er befall!
Jason
  1. Lady, I praise this conduct, not that I blame what is past; for it is but natural to the female sex to vent their spleen against a husband
  2. when he trafficks in other marriages
    besides his own.[*](i.e., ἀλλοίους. This word is not elsewhere used in tragedy, and has therefore been suspected. Heimsoethius conjectures παρεμπολῶντι δευτέρους, Dindorf δώμασιν.) But thy heart is changed to wiser schemes and thou art determined on the better course, late though it be; this is acting like a woman of sober sense. And for you, my sons, hath your father provided
  3. with all good heed a sure refuge, by God’s grace; for ye, I trow, shall with your brothers share hereafter the foremost rank in this Corinthian realm. Only grow up, for all the rest your sire and whoso of the gods is kind to us is bringing to pass.
  4. May I see you reach man’s full estate, high o’er the heads of those I hate! But thou, lady, why with fresh tears dost thou thine eyelids wet, turning away thy wan cheek, with no welcome for these my happy tidings?
Medea
  1. ’Tis naught; upon these children my thoughts were turned.