____________________
EURIPIDES
MEDEA
____________________
This translation by Ian Johnston of Malaspina
University College (now Vancouver Island University) may be distributed in printed
or electronic form (in whole or in part) to students without permission and
without charge. Performing artists are permitted to use the text for their
productions and to edit it to suit their purposes (again, without permission
and without charge). However, commercial publication in any form is prohibited
except with the written permission of the translator. For further details see Copyright. A printed paperback
book of this translation is available from Richer Resources Publications. If
you would like a Word file of the English text, please contact Ian Johnston (there is no charge for the file).
This translation was first posted on the internet and
published by Richer Resources Publications in 2008. The text was revised
slightly in 2015.
Note that in the
following translation the numbers without brackets refer to the English text,
while the numbers in square brackets refer to the Greek text. In numbering the
lines, the translator has normally counted a short indented line with the short
line immediately above. The explanatory endnotes have been provided by the
translator.
BACKGROUND NOTE
Jason was born the son
of Aeson, king of Iolcus, a
city in Thessaly (on the eastern coast of mainland Greece). When his father
lost the kingship, Jason was secretly sent away and put into the care of the famous
centaur Chiron, who raised him. As a young man Jason returned to Iolcus. The king, Pelias, who had
deprived Aeson of the kingship, persuaded Jason to
set off on an expedition to capture the Golden Fleece, the pure gold skin of a
ram, which was in a sacred grove in Colchis (a barbarian region to the east of
the Euxine sea, the Greek name for the Black Sea),
where it was guarded by a dragon.
Jason put together a
band of adventurers called the Argonauts. They took their name from the ship they
sailed in, the Argo. The heroes had a number of adventures on the way to
Colchis. When they arrived in Colchis, king Aeetes
set Jason a number of tasks, including yoking two fire-breathing bulls,
ploughing a field with them, sowing the field with the teeth of a dragon, and
then fighting the warriors who arose from the sown teeth. He also had to
confront the dragon guarding the fleece.
To complete these
tasks Jason enlisted the help of Medea, daughter of king Aeetes.
She fell in love with Jason and used her magic to help him complete the tasks
set by Aeetes and to steal the Golden Fleece. She
then escaped with Jason, killing her brother in order to scatter his body on
the sea, so that Aeetes would have to hold up his
pursuit. Jason and Medea returned to Iolcus, where Medea's magic restored Jason's father, Aeson,
to youthful health. Medea also tricked the daughters of king Pelias into killing their father by giving them ineffective
medications and persuading them to try a course of treatment which was fatal.
Because of their culpability in the death of Pelias,
Jason and Medea were forced to leave Iolchus. They
moved to Corinth, where, after a few years, Jason decided to leave Medea and
marry the daughter of Creon, king of Corinth. The story of the play begins
immediately after Jason’s marriage to his new bride.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Nurse: a
servant of Medea
Tutor: a servant assigned to
Jason’s children
Medea: wife of Jason
Chorus: a group of Corinthian
women
Creon: king of Corinth
Jason: husband of Medea
Aegeus: king of Athens
Messenger: a servant of Jason’s
Children: Medea’s
and Jason’s two young sons
Attendants on Creon and Jason.
[Outside the home of Jason and Medea in
Corinth. The NURSE, a slave who serves Medea, is standing by herself.]
NURSE
O how I wish that ship the Argo
had never sailed off to the land of
Colchis,
past the Symplegades,
those dark dancing rocks
which smash boats sailing through
the Hellespont.1
I wish they’d never chopped the
pine trees down
in those mountain forests up on
Pelion,
to make oars for the hands of those
great men
who set off, on Pelias’
orders,
to fetch the golden fleece.2 Then my mistress,
Medea, never would have sailed
away 10
to the towers in the land of Iolcus,
her heart passionately in love with
Jason.
She’d never have convinced those
women,
Pelias’
daughters, to kill their father,
and she’d not have come to live in
Corinth
[10]
with her husband and her
children—well loved
in exile by those whose land she’d
moved to.
She gave all sorts of help to
Jason.
That’s when life is most secure and safe,
when woman and her husband stand as
one. 20
But that marriage changed. Now
they’re enemies.
Their fine love’s grown sick,
diseased, for Jason,
leaving his own children and my mistress,
is lying on a royal wedding bed.
He’s married the daughter of king Creon,
who rules this country. As for
Medea,
that poor lady, in her disgrace,
cries out, [20]
repeating his oaths, recalling the
great trust
in that right hand with which he
pledged his love.
She keeps calling to the gods to
witness 30
how Jason is repaying her favours.
She just lies there. She won’t
eat—her body
she surrenders to the pain, wasting
away,
always in tears, ever since she
found out
how her husband has dishonoured
her.
She’s not lifted her eyes up from
the ground,
or raised her head. She listens to
advice,
even from friends, as if she were a
stone,
or the ocean swell, except now and
then
she twists that white neck of hers
and weeps, 40
[30]
crying to herself for her dear
father, her home,
her own land, all those things she
left behind,
to come here with the man who now
discards her.
Her suffering has taught her the
advantages
of not being cut off from one’s
homeland.
Now she hates her children. When
she sees them,
there is no joy in her. And I’m
afraid
she may be up to some new mischief.
Her mind thinks in extremes. I know
her well.
She’ll not put up with being
treated badly.
50
I worry she may pick up a sharp
sword
and stab her stomach, or else
she’ll go [40]
into the house, in silence, to that
bed,
and kill the king and bridegroom
Jason.
Then she’ll face an even worse
disaster.
She’s a dangerous woman. It won’t
be easy
for any man who picks a fight with
her
to think she’s beaten and he’s
triumphed.
[Enter Medea’s and Jason’s CHILDREN with their TUTOR.]
Here come her
children. They’ve finished playing.
They’ve no notion of their mother’s
troubles. 60
Young minds don’t like to dwell on
pain.
TUTOR
Old slave from my mistress’
household,
why are you here, standing by the
gate,
[50]
all alone, complaining to yourself
about what’s wrong? How come Medea
is willing to stay inside without
you?
NURSE
Old servant of Jason’s children,
when a master’s lot falls out
badly,
that’s bad for faithful servants,
too—
it affects their hearts as well. My sorrow 70
was so great, I wanted to come
here,
to speak to earth and heaven, to
tell them
about the wrongs inflicted on my
mistress.
TUTOR
Unhappy lady! Has she stopped
weeping yet?
NURSE
Stopped crying? I envy your
ignorance. [60]
Her suffering has only just begun—
she’s not even half way through it.
TUTOR
Poor fool—
if I can speak that way about my masters.
She knows nothing of her latest
troubles.
NURSE
What’s that, old man? Don’t spare
me the news. 80
TUTOR
Nothing. I’m sorry I said anything.
NURSE
Come on, don’t hide it from a
fellow slave.
I can keep quiet if I have to.
TUTOR
Well, I was passing by those
benches
where the old men gamble by Peirene,
at the holy spring, and I heard
someone say
(I was pretending I wasn’t
listening)
that Creon, king of this country,
intends
to ship the children away from
Corinth, [70]
with their mother, too. I’ve no
idea
90
if the story’s true
or not. I hope it’s not.
NURSE
But surely Jason wouldn’t let his
children
go into exile, even if he’s
squabbling
with their mother?
TUTOR
Old devotions fade,
pushed aside by new relationships.
Jason is no friend of people in
this house.
NURSE
If we must add these brand-new
troubles
to our old ones, before we’ve dealt
with them,
then we’re finished.
TUTOR
But listen—the
time’s not right 100 [80]
to let your mistress know about
these things.
So keep quiet. Don’t mention
anything.
NURSE
Children, do you hear what sort of
man
your father is to you? My curse on him!
No. He is my master—but a bad man
to his own family. Of that he’s
guilty.
TUTOR
What mortal man is not? Don’t you
know yet
all men love themselves more than
their neighbours.
And some are right to do that—while
others
just want some benefit. But this
father, 110
with his new wife, has no love for
his children.
NURSE
Come on, children, get inside the
house.
Things will be fine.
[To the TUTOR]
You must keep them away— [90]
as far as possible—and don’t bring
them
near their mother when she’s in
this state.
I’ve seen her look at them with
savage eyes,
as if she means to injure them
somehow.
I know this anger of hers will not
end,
not before she turns it loose on
someone.
I hope it falls on enemies, not on
friends! 120
MEDEA [crying from inside the house]
I can’t stand this
pain, this misery.
What do I do? I wish I could die!
NURSE
My dear children, you hear your
mother’s cry.
Her heart’s upset. Her anger’s
growing, too.
So quickly now, run off inside the
house.
[100]
Stay out of sight. Don’t try to go
and see her.
She’s fierce, headstrong by nature.
Take care.
So go now—inside as quickly as you
can.
[The TUTOR and
CHILDREN enter the house]
It’s obvious the
cloud of bitter grief
rising inside her is only just the
start.
130
As her temper grows even more
intense,
it will soon catch fire. She’s a
passionate soul,
hard to restrain. What will she do
next,
now her heart’s been bitten by
these injuries?
[110]
MEDEA [from inside the house]
The pain
of this suffering—this intense pain.
Am I not right to weep? O my
children,
cursed children of a hateful
mother—
may you die with your father and
his house,
may it all perish, crash down in
ruins.
NURSE
O the sorrow of it all. Poor woman! 140
Why link your children with the
nasty things
their father’s done? Why do you
hate them so?
I’m terrified the children will be
hurt.
The pride of rulers is something to
fear—
they often order men, but seldom
listen,
[120]
and when their tempers change it’s
hard to bear.
It’s better to get used to living life
as an equal common person. Anyway,
I don’t want a grand life for
myself—
just to grow old with some
security.
150
They say a moderate life’s the best
of all,
a far better choice for mortal men.
Going for too much brings no
benefits.
And when the gods get angry with
some home,
the more wealth it has, the more it
is destroyed.
[130]
[Enter the CHORUS of Corinthian
women]
CHORUS LEADER
I heard her voice,
I heard the cries
of that sad lady here from Colchis.
Has she not calmed down yet? Old
nurse, tell me.
I heard from some household servant
in there
that she’s been screaming. I find
no pleasure 160
in this house’s suffering. We’ve
been friends.
NURSE
This house is finished—already ruined.
For Jason’s bound by his new
marriage tie [140]
to the king’s daughter. As for my
mistress,
her tears are washing away her life
in there,
inside
the house. She finds no consolation
in the words of any of her friends.
MEDEA [still from inside the house]
O why can’t a bolt of lightning
strike me?
What point is there in living
anymore?
I want death to come and sweep me
off! 170
Let me escape this life of
suffering!
CHORUS
O Zeus and Earth and Sun—
do you hear how this young wife
sings out her misery?
[150]
Thoughtless lady,
why long for death’s marriage bed
which human beings all shun?
Death comes soon enough
and brings an end to everything.
You should not pray for it.
180
And if your husband
devotes himself to some new bed,
why get angry over that?
Zeus will plead for you in this.
Don’t waste your life away,
with too much wailing for your
husband.
MEDEA [within]
O great Themis
and noble Artemis,
[160]
do you see what I am having to
endure,
when I’m the one who bound that
cursed man,
my husband, with strong promises to
me? 190
O how I want to see him and his
bride
beaten down, destroyed—their whole
house as well—
for these wrongs they dare inflict
on me,
when I’ve done nothing to provoke
them!
O father and city, I left you
behind
in my disgrace when I killed my
brother.3
NURSE
Do you hear what’s she’s saying,
how she calls
to Themis,
who hears our prayers, and Zeus,
who guards, they say, the promises
men swear. [170]
She’s
bound to do something quite serious 200
before this rage of hers comes to
an end.
CHORUS LEADER
I wish she’d let us see her face to
face
and listen to what we have to tell
her.
That might calm down her savage
temper,
the fury in her heart. I’d like the
chance
to show good will to a lady whom I
like.
Go now—bring her here outside the house. [180]
Tell her
she’ll be among some friends of hers.
And hurry, before she harms someone
in there—
that power in her grief will make
her act. 210
NURSE
All right, though I’m afraid I
won’t persuade
my mistress. Still, as a favour to
you,
I’ll see what I can do. Right now
she glares
at servants when they come close to
her
to tell her something. She’s like a
bull
or lioness with cubs—that’s how she
looks.
Those men from long ago—you’d not
be wrong [190]
to call them fools without much
wisdom.
They thought up songs for
celebrations,
feasts and banquets, bringing to
human life 220
delightful music. But they found nothing
in music or the lyre’s many strings
to end the bitterness of human
life,
the pain in living, sorrows
bringing on
deaths and horrifying calamities
that destroy whole families. What a
blessing
it would be for human beings if
music
could cure these sorrows. When
people feast,
[200]
why should people sing? It’s a
waste of time.
People who eat well are happy
anyway— 230
they’ve enjoyed the pleasure of the
meal.
[NURSE exits into the
house]
CHORUS
I have heard Medea’s
crying,
full of sorrow, full of tears,
her shrill accusations against
Jason,
the husband who’s betrayed her.
Suffering such injustice, she cries
out,
calling the gods—calling Themis,
Zeus’ daughter, goddess of those
promises
which carried her across the ocean
to Hellas, through the black salt
waves, 240 [210]
through the place which few men
penetrate,
that strait which guards the Pontic Sea.
[Enter MEDEA with the
NURSE]
MEDEA
Women of Corinth, I have come here,
outside the house, so you won’t
think ill of me.
Many men, I know, become too
arrogant,
both in the public eye and in their
homes.
Others get a reputation for
indifference,
because they stay at ease within
the house.
There’s no justice in the eyes of
mortal men.
Before they know someone’s deep
character, 250 [220]
they hate the sight of her, though
she’s not hurt them.
A guest of the city must comply, of
course,
act as the city wants. I don’t commend
a stubborn man, not even a citizen,
who thanks to his stupidity annoys
his fellow townsmen. But in my
case,
this unexpected blow that’s hit me
has destroyed my heart. My life is
over,
dear friends. I’ve lost all joy. I
want to die.
The person who was everything to
me, 260
my own husband, has turned out to
be
the worst of men. This I know is
true.
Of all things with life and
understanding, [230]
we women are the most unfortunate.
First, we need a husband, someone
we get
for an excessive price. He then
becomes
the ruler of our bodies. And this
misfortune
adds still more troubles to the
grief we have.
Then comes the crucial struggle:
this husband
we’ve selected,
is he good or bad? 270
For a divorce loses
women all respect,
yet we can’t refuse to take a
husband.
Then, when she goes into her
husband’s home,
with its new rules and different
customs,
she needs a prophet’s skill to sort
out the man
whose bed she shares. She can’t
learn that at home.
[240]
Once we’ve worked hard at this, and
with success,
our husband accepts the marriage
yoke
and lives in peace—an enviable
life.
But if the marriage doesn’t work,
then death 280
is much to be preferred. When the
man tires
of the company he keeps at home, he
leaves,
seeking relief for his distress
elsewhere,
outside the home. He gets his
satisfaction
with some male friend or someone
his own age.
We women have to look at just one
man.
Men tell us we live safe and secure
at home,
while they must go to battle with
their spears.
How stupid they are! I’d rather
stand there
three times in battle holding up my
shield 290 [250]
than give birth once. But your
story and mine
are not the same. For you have a
city,
you have your father’s house, enjoy
your life
with friends for company. But I’m
alone.
I have no city, and I’m being
abused
by my own husband. I was carried
off,
a trophy from a barbarian country.
I have no mother, brother, or relation
to shelter with in this extremity.
And so I want to ask something from
you. 300
If I find some way to punish
Jason [260]
for these injustices—his bride, as
well,
and her father—say nothing. In
other things
a woman may be timid—in watching
battles
or seeing steel, but when she’s
hurt in love,
her marriage violated, there’s no
heart
more desperate for blood than hers.
CHORUS LEADER
I’ll do what you request. For you
are right
to pay back your husband. And,
Medea,
I’m not surprised you grieve at
these events. 310
[Enter Creon, with
armed attendants]
I see Creon, king of
Corinth, coming.
He’ll be bringing news, announcing
some new decision that’s been
made. [270]
CREON
You there, Medea, scowling in anger
against your husband. I’m ordering
you
out of Corinth. You must go into
exile,
and take those two children of
yours with you.
Go quickly. I’m here to make quite
sure
that this decree is put into
effect.
I’m not going back into the palace 320
until I’ve cast you out beyond our
borders.
MEDEA
O now my sufferings will kill me.
It’s over.
My enemies have set full sail
against me,
and there’s no way I can avert
disaster.
But, Creon, let me ask you
something— [280]
since I’m the one abused, why
banish me?
What have I done?
CREON
I’m afraid of you.
I won’t conceal the truth. There’s
a good chance
you might well instigate some fatal
harm
against my daughter. Many things
lead me 330
to this conclusion: you’re a clever
woman,
very experienced in evil ways;
you’re grieving the loss of your
husband’s bed;
and from reports I hear you’re
making threats
to take revenge on Jason, on his
bride,
and on her father. Before that
happens,
I’m taking some precautions. Woman, [290]
it’s better that you hate me than
for me
to grow soft now and regret it
later.
MEDEA
Alas, this is not the first time,
Creon,
340
my reputation has badly damaged me.
It’s happened often. No man with
any sense
should ever educate his children
to know anything beyond what’s
normal.
Quite apart from charges of
idleness
which other people bring against
them,
they stir up in their fellow
citizens
a hostile envy. If you offer fools
some brand new wisdom, they’ll
consider you
quite useless, not someone wise.
And if, 350 [300]
within the city, people think of
you
as greater than those men who seem
quite wise,
you’ll be a nuisance. So it is with
me.
I’m a knowledgeable woman. I make
some people envious. Others say I’m
shy.
Some the
opposite. Some say I’m hostile.
I’m not that clever, but still you
fear me.
Have I hurt you at all, made you
suffer?
Don’t fear me, Creon. It’s not in
me
to commit crimes against the men in
charge. 360
Besides, in what way have you
injured me?
You’ve married your daughter to a
man,
one your heart selected. My
husband’s [310]
the one I hate. In my view, you’ve
acted
in this business with good sense.
So now,
I’ll not begrudge you your
prosperity.
Have your marriage, and good luck
to you.
But let me remain here, in this
country.
Although I’ve suffered an
injustice,
I’ll obey the rulers and stay
silent.
370
CREON
What you say sounds comforting
enough,
but I’m still afraid that heart of
yours
is planning something evil. At this
point,
I trust you even less than
previously.
Passionate people, women as well as
men,
are easier to protect oneself
against,
[320]
than someone clever who keeps
silent.
No. You must leave Corinth—and
right away.
No more speeches. I have made up my
mind.
It’s not possible for you to stay
here, 380
not with us, given your hostility
to me.
MEDEA [kneeling in front
of Creon]
No, don’t
send me away. I’m begging you,
at your knee, in your daughter’s
name.
CREON
Your words are useless. You won’t
persuade me.
MEDEA
You’ll send me into exile without
hearing
my supplication?
CREON
Indeed I will.
I don’t love you more than my own
family.
MEDEA
O my homeland! How I’m thinking of
you now.
CREON
Except for my own children, my
country
is what I cherish most by far.
MEDEA
Alas,
390
love’s a miserable thing for mortal men. [330]
CREON
I think events determine if that’s
true.
MEDEA
O Zeus, don’t overlook who bears
the blame
for all this evil.
CREON
It’s time to leave,
you foolish woman. Time to rid myself
of all this trouble.
MEDEA
We have
trouble enough—
There’s no
need for any more.
CREON
Come on—
or my servants will force you into
exile.
MEDEA
No, don’t do that. I beg you, Creon
. . .
[Medea seizes Creon’s hand]
CREON
Woman, it seems you’re trying to
provoke me. 400
MEDEA
All right then. I will go into
exile.
I wasn’t begging to escape from
that.
CREON
Then why squeeze my hand so hard
and not let go?
MEDEA
Let me
remain here one day to prepare, [340]
to get ready for my exile and
provide
something for my children, since
their father,
as one more insult, does nothing
for them.
Have pity on them. You’re a parent,
too.
You should treat them kindly—that’s
what’s right.
If I go into exile, I don’t
care,
410
but I weep for them in their
misfortune.
CREON
For a tyrant my will is by nature
tender,
and by feeling pity I’ve been hurt
before,
more than once. And now, woman, I
see
I’m making a mistake, for you can
have
[350]
your extra day. But let me warn
you—
if the sun catches you tomorrow
within the borders of this country,
you or your children, you’ll be put
to death.
Don’t assume I’m not telling you
the truth. 420
So, if you must remain, stay one
more day.
In that time you can’t do the harm
I fear.
[Exit Creon with his
attendants]
CHORUS LEADER
Alas for you, unfortunate woman—
how wretched your distress. Where
will you turn?
Where will you find someone to take
you in?
What country, what home will you
ever find
to save you from misfortune? [360]
MEDEA
Things have worked out badly in
every way.
Who can deny the fact? But
nonetheless,
you should not assume that’s how
things will stay. 430
The newly wedded pair still face some struggles,
and the man who made this marriage
happen
might have serious problems yet. Do
you think
I’d prostrate myself before a man
like that,
if there was no advantage to be
gained?
If I didn’t have some plan in mind,
I’d not have talked to him or
grabbed his hand.
[370]
But the man’s become completely
foolish—
when he had the power to prevent me
from planning anything, by sending
me 440
out of his land, he let me stay one
day,
a day when I’ll turn three of my
enemies
to corpses—father, daughter, and my
husband.
Now, I can slaughter them in many
ways.
I’m not sure which one to try out
first.
Perhaps I should set the bridal
suite on fire
or sneak into the house in silence,
right up to their marriage bed, and
plunge
[380]
some sharpened steel right through
their guts.
There’s just one problem. If I get
caught 450
going in their house meaning to
destroy it,
I’ll be killed, and my enemies will
laugh.
No. The best method is the most
direct,
the one at which I have a special
skill—
I’ll murder them with poison. Yes,
that’s it.
But once they’re dead, what city
will receive me?
Who’ll give me safe shelter as a
guest,
and offer me physical protection?
There’s no one. Still, I’ll wait a
little while.
If someone shows
up who can defend me,
460 [390]
I’ll set my scheme in motion and
kill them
without saying a word. But
if events
force me to act openly, I’ll use a
sword.
Even though it will bring about my
death,
I’ll push my daring to the very
limit
and slaughter them. By Hecate,
goddess
I worship more than all the others,
the one I choose to help me in this
work,
who lives with me deep inside my
home,
these people won’t bring pain into
my heart 470
and laugh about it. This wedding of
theirs,
I’ll make it hateful for them, a
disaster—
Creon’s
marriage ties, my exile from here, [400]
he’ll find those bitter. So come,
Medea,
call on all those things you know
so well,
as you plan this and set it up. Let
the work,
this deadly business, start. It’s a
test of wills.
You know what you now have to deal
with.
You must not let Jason’s marriage
make you
a laughing stock among
Corinthians,
480
compatriots of Sisyphus, for you
trace your family from a noble
father
and from Helios, the sun. So get to
work.
Besides, we have a woman’s nature—
powerless to perform fine noble
deeds,
but very skilled in all the forms
of evil.
CHORUS
The waters in the sacred
rivers
[410]
are flowing in reverse.
And all well-ordered things
are once more turning on
themselves.
490
Men’s plans are now deceitful,
their firm trust in the gods is
gone.
My life is changing—common talk
is giving me a better reputation.
Honour’s coming to the female sex.
Slander will no longer injure
women.
[420]
Those songs by
ancient poets
will stop chanting of our
faithlessness.
Phoebus, god of song and singing,
never put into our minds the
gift
500
of making sacred music with the
lyre,
or else I would have sung a song
in response to what the male sex
sings.
For our lengthy past has much to
say
about men’s lives as well as
ours.
[430]
You sailed here from
your father’s house,
your heart on fire, past those two
rocks
that stand guard to the Euxine Sea.
You live now in a foreign land.
You’ve lost your marriage bed, 510
your husband, too, poor woman.
And now you’re driven out,
hounded into exile in disgrace.
The honour in an oath has gone.
And
all throughout wide Hellas
[440]
there’s no shame any more.
Shame has flown away to heaven.
So to you, unhappy lady,
no father’s house is open,
no haven on your painful voyage.
520
For now a stronger woman
rules in your household,
queen of Jason’s marriage bed.
[Enter Jason]
JASON
Now is not the first time I’ve
observed
how a harsh temper can make all
things worse—
impossibly so. It’s happened often.
You could have stayed here in this
land and house,
if only you’d agreed to the
arrangements,
showed some patience with those in
command.
Now you’re exiled for your stupid
chatter. 530 [450]
Not that I care. You don’t have to stop
calling Jason the worst man in the world,
but when you speak against the ruler
here,
consider yourself very fortunate
that exile is your only punishment.
I’ve always tried to mollify the
king—
he has a vicious temper—and have
you stay.
But you just wouldn’t stop this
silly rage,
always slandering the royal house.
That’s why you’ve got to leave the
country. 540
Anyway, I won’t neglect my family.
I’ve come here, woman, looking out
for you,
[460]
so you won’t be thrown out with the
children
in total need and lacking
everything.
Exile brings with it all sorts of
hardships.
Although you may well despise me
now,
I could never have bad feelings for
you.
MEDEA
As a man you’re the worst there
is—that’s all
I’ll say about you, no trace of
manhood.
You come to me now, you come at
this point, 550
when you’ve turned into the worst
enemy
of the gods and me and the whole
human race?
It isn’t courage or firm resolution
to hurt your family and then
confront them, [470]
face to face, but a total lack of
shame,
the greatest of all human
sicknesses.
But you did well to come, for I
will speak.
I’ll unload my heart, describe your evil.
You listen. I hope you’re hurt by
what I say.
I’ll begin my story at the very
start.
560
I saved your life—every Greek who
sailed with you
on board that ship the Argo can
confirm it—
when you’d been sent to bring under
the yoke
the fire-breathing bulls and then
to sow
the fields of death. And I killed
the dragon
guarding the Golden Fleece, coiled
up there, [480]
staying on watch and never going to
sleep.
For you I raised the light which
rescued you
from death. I left my father and my
home,
on my own, and came with you to Iolcus, 570
beneath Mount Pelion. My love for
you
was greater than my wisdom. Then I
killed
Pelias in
the most agonizing way,
at the hands of his own daughters,
and demolished his household, all
of it.
Now, after I’ve done all this to
help you,
you brute, you betray me and help
yourself
to some new wife. And we have
children!
If you’d had no children, I’d
understand [490]
why you’re so keen on marrying this
girl. 580
And what about the promises you
made?
I don’t know if you think the
ancient gods
still govern or if new regulations
have recently been put in place for
men,
but you must know you’ve broken
faith with me.
By this right hand, which you have
often held,
and by my knees, at which you’ve
often begged,
it was all for nothing to be
touched like that,
by such a worthless man. I’ve lost
all hope.
But come now. I’ll sort things out
with you, 590
as if you were a friend. I’ve no
idea
what sort of kindness to expect
from you.
[500]
But let’s see. The things I’ll ask
about
will make you look even more
disgraceful.
Where do I now turn? To my father’s house?
For your sake I betrayed my
country,
to come here with you. Then should
I go
to Pelias’
daughters in their misery?
They’d surely welcome me with open
arms,
since I killed their father. That’s
how things stand. 600
To my family I’m now an enemy,
and by assisting you I declared war
on people I had no need to injure.
For all the ways I’ve helped you,
you made me,
in the eyes of many wives in
Greece,
a lucky woman, blessed in many
things.
But what a wonderful and trusting
husband
[510]
I have in you now, in my
misfortune,
if I go into exile, leave this
land,
with no friends, all alone,
abandoned,
610
with my abandoned children. And for
you,
what a fine report for a new
bridegroom,
his children wandering round like
vagabonds
with the very woman who saved his
life.
O Zeus, why did you give men
certain ways
to recognize false gold, when
there’s no mark,
no token stamped on the human body,
to indicate which men are
worthless.
CHORUS
When members of a family fight like
this, [520]
rage pushes them beyond all
compromise. 620
JASON
Woman, it seems I’ll need to give
good reasons,
and, like a skilled helmsman on a
ship,
haul in my sails and run before
that storm
blowing from your raving tongue. In my view,
you overestimate your favours to
me.
I consider goddess Aphrodite
the only one of gods or mortal men
who saved my expedition. As for
you,
well, you’ve a subtle mind. But if
I told
how Eros with his unerring
arrows
630 [530]
forced you to save me, I could
injure you.
So I won’t press the matter very
far.
However you helped me, you did it
well.
But by saving me you got in return
more than you gave, as I will
demonstrate.
First of all, you now live among
the Greeks,
not in a country of barbarians.
You’re familiar with justice and
the laws,
rather than brute force. Besides,
all the Greeks
know you’re clever, so you have
earned yourself 640
a fine reputation. If you still
lived
[540]
out there at the boundary of the
world,
no one would talk about you. And
great fame
I’d sooner have than houses filled
with gold
or the power to sing sweet
melodies,
sweeter than all the songs of
Orpheus.
That’s my response to you about my
labours.
Remember you started this war of
words.
As for your complaints about this
marriage,
I’ll show you that in this I’m
being wise
650
and moderate and very friendly to you
and to my children. You must have
patience. [550]
When I
came here from the land of Iolcus,
I brought with me many troubles,
hard ones,
things impossible for me to deal
with.
What greater good fortune could I
have found
than marrying the daughter of the
king,
me—an exile? On the point that irks
you,
it’s not the case I hate our
marriage bed,
overcome with lust for some new
bride, 660
nor am I keen to rival other men
in the number of my many children.
We have enough. I’m not
complaining.
The most important thing for us to
do
is to live well and not in poverty,
knowing that everyone avoids a
friend [560]
once he’s a pauper. As for my
children,
I want to raise them in the proper
way,
one worthy of my house, to have
brothers
for the children born from you, and
make them 670
all the same. Thus, with a united
family
I might prosper. Do you need more
children?
In my case, there’s some benefit to
have
new children to help those already
born.
Was this a bad scheme? You’d agree
with me,
if you weren’t so upset about the
sex.
But you women are so idiotic—
you think if everything is fine in
bed,
you have all you need, but if the
sex is bad,
[570]
then all the very best and finest
things 680
you make your enemies. What mortals
need
is some other way to get our
children.
We ought to have no female sex and
then
men would be rid of all their
troubles.
CHORUS LEADER
Jason, your reasons here seem
logical,
but it strikes me, if I may
presume,
you’re in the wrong abandoning your wife.
MEDEA
I’m very different from many
others,
in all sorts of ways—in my opinion,
the unjust man who speaks so
plausibly 690 [580]
brings on himself the harshest
punishment.
Since he’s sure his tongue can hide
injustice,
he dares anything. But he’s not
that clever.
So you should not parade before me
now
your clever words and specious
reasoning.
One word demolishes your argument:
if you were not corrupt, you’d ask
me first,
get my consent to undertake this
marriage,
but you did not even tell your
family.
JASON
O yes, if I’d told you of the
wedding,
700
I’m sure you would have lent me
fine support.
Even now you can’t stand to set
aside
that immense rage in your
heart. [590]
MEDEA
You’re lying.
You thought as you grew old a
barbarian wife
would bring you disrespect.
JASON
Get this straight—
this royal bride I have, I did not
marry her
because of any woman. As I told
you,
I wanted to save you and have
children,
royal princes, with the same blood
as my sons.
That way my house has more
security.
710
MEDEA
May I never want a merely
prosperous life,
accepting pain or great wealth at
the expense
of happiness here in my heart.
JASON
Do you think [600]
you can change that prayer and
sound more sensible?
You should not consider this
advantage
painful or pretend to be so
wretched
when things are going well for you.
MEDEA
Keep up the insults. You have your
refuge.
I’m alone and banished from this
country.
JASON
That’s what you’ve chosen. The
blame rests with you. 720
MEDEA
What did I do? Marry and desert
you?
JASON
You kept making all those bitter
curses
against the ruling family here.
MEDEA
And I’m a
curse against your family, too.
JASON
I’m not arguing with you any
more
[610]
about all this. But if you want me
to provide some money, some
assistance
for you and the children in your
exile,
just ask. I’m prepared to give you
some,
and with a generous hand. I’ll send
my friends 730
introductory tokens, so they’ll
treat you well.
You’d be mad not to accept this
offer.
Woman, stop being
so angry. If you do,
things will turn out so much better
for you.
MEDEA
I’ll accept no assistance from your
friends,
nor anything from you. Don’t make
the offer.
Gifts from a worthless man are
without value.
JASON
All right, but I call the gods to
witness
I’m willing to help you and the
children. [620]
But you reject my goods and
stubbornly 740
push away your friends, and for
that reason
you’ll suffer still more pain.
MEDEA
Get out of here.
For someone so in love with his new
bride
you’re spending far too long
outside her home.
Go act married. The gods will see
to it
your marriage changes into one of
those
that makes you wish you had
rejected it.
[Exit Jason]
CHORUS
Erotic love with too much passion
brings with it no fine reputation,
brings nothing virtuous to
men.
750
But if Aphrodite comes in smaller
doses,
[630]
no other god is so desirable.
Goddess, I pray you never strike me
with one of those poisoned arrows
shot from your golden bow.
I pray that
moderation,
the gods’ most beautiful gift,
will always guide me.
I pray that Aphrodite
never packs my heart with
jealousy
760
or angry quarreling.
May she never fill me with desire
for sex in other people’s beds.
May she bless peaceful unions,
[640]
using her wisdom to select
a woman’s marriage bed.
O my country and my
home,
I pray I never lack a city,
never face a hopeless life,
one filled with misery and
pain.
770
Before that comes, let death,
my death, deliver me,
bring a
fatal end to all my days.
For there’s no affliction
worse
[650]
than losing one’s own land.
I say on this based
on what I’ve seen,
not on what other people say.
For you are here without a city—
you have no friends to pity you,
as you suffer in this misery,
780
suffer in the harshest way.
The man who shames his family,
[660]
who does not open up his heart
and treat them in all honesty—
may he perish unlamented.
With him I never could be friends.
[Enter Aegeus, king of
Athens]
AEGEUS
I wish you all happiness, Medea.
There’s no better way to greet
one’s friends.
MEDEA
All happiness to you, too, Aegeus,
wise Pandion’s
son. Where are you coming from? 790
AEGEUS
I’ve just left Apollo’s ancient
oracle.
MEDEA
The prophetic centre of the earth?4
What business took you there?
AEGEUS
To ask a question.
I want to know how I can have some
children.
MEDEA
In the gods’ name, have you lived
so long [670]
without ever having any children?
AEGEUS
Not one. Some god is doing this to me.
MEDEA
Do you have a wife? Or have you
stayed unmarried?
AEGEUS
No, I’m married. My wife shares my
bed.
MEDEA
So what did Apollo say about
it?
800
AEGEUS
Words too wise for human
understanding.
MEDEA
It is appropriate for me to learn
them?
AEGEUS
Of course. They need a clever mind like yours.
MEDEA
What was the prophecy? Tell it to me—
if it’s all right for me to hear.
AEGEUS
He told me this:
“Don’t untie the wineskin’s foot. .
.”
MEDEA
Until
when?
Until you do what or reach what
country?
[680]
AEGEUS
“. . . until you come back to your
hearth and home.”
MEDEA
What were you looking for when you
sailed here?
AEGEUS
A man called Pittheus, king of
Troezen. 810
MEDEA
He’s Pelops’
son. They say he’s a very holy man.
AEGEUS
I want to share the god’s prophecy
with him.
MEDEA
He’s a wise man and skilled in things
like that.
AEGEUS
And the friendliest of all my
allies.
MEDEA
Well, good luck. I hope you find
what you desire.
AEGEUS
Why are your eyes so sad, your
cheeks so pale?
MEDEA
O Aegeus, my husband has been
cruel— [690]
of all men he has treated me the
worst.
AEGEUS
What are you saying? Tell me truly—
what things have made you so
unhappy? 820
MEDEA
Jason’s abusing me. I’ve done him
no harm.
AEGEUS
What has he done? Give me more
details.
MEDEA
He’s taken a new wife. She now
rules his home,
instead of me.
AEGEUS
That’s completely shameful.
He hasn’t dared something like
that, has he?
MEDEA
Indeed, he has. He’s dishonored me,
the wife
he used to love.
AEGEUS
Is
this a new love affair,
or did he get fed up with you in
bed?
MEDEA
A new love match—he’s betrayed his family.
AEGEUS
Leave him, then, since, as you say,
he’s worthless. 830
MEDEA
His passion is to marry royalty.
AEGEUS
Who’s giving her to him? Tell me
the rest.
MEDEA
Creon, who rules this land of
Corinth.
AEGEUS
Then, lady, it’s quite understandable
why you’re in such distress.
MEDEA
I’m done for, finished.
I’m being banished from this
country.
AEGEUS
By whom? You’re speaking now of some new trouble.
MEDEA
Creon is driving me into exile,
forcing me out, away from Corinth.
AEGEUS
With Jason’s full consent? I find that disgraceful. 840
MEDEA
He says not. Still, he’s planning
to accept it.
But, Aegeus, I beg you by your beard,
and at your knees implore you—have pity. [710]
Take pity on me in my misfortune.
Don’t let me be exiled without a
friend.
Accept me as a suppliant in your
home,
your native land. If you will take
me in,
may the gods then answer your
desire
to have children.
May you die a happy man.
You don’t know what a lucky one you
are 850
to find me here. I’ll end your childlessness.
I know the sorts of medicines to
use,
and I can help you have many
children.
AEGEUS
Lady, I’d like to grant this favour
to you,
for many reasons. First, there’s
the gods. [720]
Then, for the children you say I’ll
produce.
For there
I’ve lost all sense of what to try.
Here’s what I’ll do. If you get to
my country,
I’ll strive to treat you as a
foreign guest—
that’s the proper thing for me to
do. 860
But, Medea, I’ll give you fair
warning:
I won’t plot to get you out of
Corinth.
If you can reach my household on
your own,
you may stay there in safety. Rest
assured—
I won’t surrender you to anyone.
But you must make your own escape from here.
I don’t want my hosts finding fault
with me.
[730]
MEDEA
That’s fine with me. If you could
promise this,
you’ll have done me all the good
you can.
AEGEUS
Don’t you trust me? What in this still bothers you? 870
MEDEA
I do trust you. But the house of Pelias
dislikes me, and so does Creon’s, too.
If you bind
yourself to a promise now,
you’ll not hand me over when they come,
seeking to remove me from your
country.
If you use words, and don’t swear
by the gods,
you may become their friend and
then comply
with their political demands. I’m
weak,
and they have wealth, a king’s
resources. [740]
AEGEUS
What you’ve just said is very
shrewd. All right, 880
if it’s what you want, I’m not
unwilling
to do what you require. Your
proposal
gives me some security. I can show
those hostile to you I’ve a good
excuse.
And it makes your position more
secure.
Tell me the gods that I should
swear by.
MEDEA
Swear by the plain of Earth, by
Helios,
my father’s father, by the family
of gods,
by all of them collectively.
AEGEUS
Tell me
what I must swear to do and not to
do. 890
MEDEA
Never to cast me out from your own
country.
And if some enemy of mine asks
you
[750]
if he can take me off, you’ll not
agree,
not while you’re still alive.
AEGEUS
I swear—
by the Earth, by Helios’ sacred
light,
by all the gods—I’ll do what I’ve
just heard.
MEDEA
That’s good. And if you betray this
promise,
what happens to you then?
AEGEUS
May I then suffer
the punishment that falls on
profane men.
MEDEA
All is well. Now, go your way in
peace. 900
I’ll come to your city as quickly
as I can,
once I’ve completed what I mean to
do,
and my plans here have been
successful.
[Exit Aegeus]
CHORUS LEADER
May Hermes, noble son of Maia,
go with you on your return,
Aegeus.
[760]
I hope you’ll get what your heart’s
so set on,
for in my eyes you’re a worthy man.
MEDEA
O Zeus and Justice, child of Zeus,
and flaming Helios—now, my friends,
we’ll triumph over all my
enemies.
910
The plans I’ve made have been set
in motion.
I’m confident my enemies will pay—
they’ll get their punishment. For
at the point
when I was most in trouble, this
man came
and helped me plan safe harbour for
myself.
I’ll lash my ship’s cable to
Aegeus,
[770]
once I’ve made it to Athena’s city.
Now I’ll tell you all the things
I’m planning,
though you’ll get little pleasure
from my words.
I’m going to send one of my
household slaves 920
to ask Jason to come and visit me.
Once he’s here, my words will
reassure him.
I’ll tell him I agree with what
he’s doing,
that leaving me for this royal
alliance
is a fine idea—he’s acted properly
and made the right decisions. Then
I’ll ask
[780]
if my children can remain. My
purpose
is not to leave them in a hostile
land
surrounded by insulting enemies,
but a trick to kill the daughter of
the king. 930
I’ll send the children to her with
some gifts.
They’ll carry presents for the
bride, as if
requesting to be spared their
banishment—
a finely woven robe and a tiara
of twisted gold. If
she accepts those presents
and puts them on, she’ll die—and
painfully.
And so will anyone touching the
girl.
I’ve smeared strong poisons on
those gifts.
So much for that.
I’ll say no more about her. [790]
But the next thing I’ll do fills me
with pain— 940
I’m going to kill my children.
There’s no one
can save them now. And when I’ve
done this,
wiped out Jason’s house completely,
I’ll leave,
evading the punishment I’d receive
for murdering my darling children,
a sacrilegious crime. You see, my
friends,
I won’t accept my enemies’
contempt.
So be it. What good does life hold
for me now?
I have no father, no home, no refuge.
I was wrong to leave my father’s
house, 950 [800]
won over by the words of that Greek
man,
who now, with the gods’ help, will
pay the price.
He’ll never see his children alive
again,
the ones I bore him, nor have more
children
with his new bride, for she’s been
marked to die
an agonizing death, poisoned by my
drugs.
Let no one think that I’m a trivial
woman,
a feeble one who sits there
passively.
No, I’m a different sort—dangerous
to enemies, but well disposed to
friends. 960
Lives like mine achieve the
greatest glory. [810]
CHORUS LEADER
Since you’ve shared your plans with
me, I urge you
not to do this. I want to help you,
holding to the standards of human
law.
MEDEA
In this matter there’s no choice. I
forgive
what you just said, because, unlike
me,
you don’t have to bear this
suffering.
CHORUS LEADER
But, lady, can you stand to kill
your children?
MEDEA
Yes. It will be a mortal blow to Jason.
CHORUS LEADER
But as a woman it will devastate
you. 970
MEDEA
That’s beside the point. Until that
time
it’s useless to continue talking.
[MEDEA goes to door of
the house and calls inside]
You in there . . .
[Enter NURSE from the
house]
. . . go and fetch
Jason here. [820]
When I need
to trust someone, I choose you.
If you like your mistress and are a
woman,
tell him nothing of what I mean to
do.
[MEDEA goes into the house, and the NURSE moves off stage]
CHORUS
Since ancient times, Erechtheus’ sons
have been especially blessed,
children of the sacred gods,
from a holy country never
conquered,
980
never ransacked by its enemies.5
Fed on glorious fruits of wisdom,
they stride lithely through the
sunlit air, [830]
where, so the story goes, the
Muses,
nine maidens of Pieria, gave birth
to golden-haired Hermione.
And people celebrate how Aphrodite,
while drawing water from the
stream,
the flowing river of the lovely Cephissus,
breathes down upon the land 990
sweet, temperate winds,
[840]
while she binds within her hair
garlands of sweet-smelling roses,
sending Love to sit at Wisdom’s
side,
to foster all fine things.
How will this city of sacred
streams,
this land of strolling lovers,
welcome you—a murderess
who slaughtered her own children,
an unholy woman—among its
people? 1000 [850]
Consider this—the killing of your
children.
Consider the murder you are going
to do.
By your knees we beg you,
in every way we know,
do not butcher your own children.
Where will your
hands and heart
find the strength, the courage
to dare this dreadful action?
How will you look at them, [860]
your children, and not weep
1010
for their murderous fate?
When they kneel before you,
and implore your mercy,
you’ll find it impossible
to steel
your heart,
then soak
your hands
in your own children’s blood.
[Enter MEDEA from the
house and, from the side, JASON with the NURSE]
JASON
I’ve come, as you requested. You
hate me,
but I’m here, and I’m prepared to
listen.
Woman, what it is you now want from
me? 1020
MEDEA
Jason, I ask you to forgive me
for what I said before. My
anger [870]
you should be able to put up with,
since we two have shared many acts
of love.
I’ve been debating with myself. I
realize
I’ve been in the wrong. I tell
myself,
“I’m a fool.
Why am I in such a rage,
resenting those who offer good
advice?
Why fight against the rulers
of this land
or against my husband, whose
actions serve 1030
my own best interests with
this royal marriage,
producing brothers for my
children?
Why can’t I stop being angry?
What’s wrong with me,
when gods are being so kind?
Don’t I have children? [880]
Don’t I know we’re going into
exile,
where friends are hard to
find?”
With thoughts like these,
I recognized how foolish I had
been,
how senseless it was to be so
annoyed.
So now I agree with you. It strikes
me
you’ve been acting prudently, by
forging 1040
this marriage link on our behalf. I
was mad.
I should have worked with you in
this design,
helped you with your plans, stood
there beside you
in this marriage, rejoiced along
with you
for this union with your bride. But
women are,
well, I won’t say bad—we are what we are.
You should not copy the bad things
we do, [890]
repaying foolishness with
foolishness.
So I give in. I admit that I was
wrong.
But now I see things in a better
light. 1050
[MEDEA goes to the
door of the house and calls inside]
Children, come out
here—leave the house.
[Enter the CHILDREN
with the TUTOR]
Come on out. Welcome
your father here—
talk to him with me. You and your
mother
will end the bad blood in this
family.
We’ve patched things up, and no
one’s angry now.
Take his right hand. O it’s harsh
to think [900]
of what the future hides.
[MEDEA hugs her
children]
O my children,
will you keep holding your dear
arms out like this
through all the many years you have
to live?
O dear, I’m just too tearful, too
afraid! 1060
My delicate eyes keep filling up
with tears,
now I’ve stopped this quarrel with
your father.
CHORUS LEADER
My eyes, too, begin to weep pale
tears.
May this bad luck proceed no further.
JASON
Lady, I approve of what you’re
saying now.
Not that I blame you for what went
on before.
For it’s
quite natural in the female sex
to get angry when their husbands
set up
secret schemes for another secret
marriage. [910]
But your heart has changed now for
the better. 1070
Although it took a while, you
understand
the wiser course of action. In
doing so,
you’re acting like a woman of good
sense.
Now, as for you, my children, your
father
has not been neglectful. With the
gods’ help,
I’ve made secure provision for you
both.
At some future date, you’ll be
leaders here,
in Corinth, alongside your new brothers.
But first you must grow up. As for
the rest,
your father and the god who smiles
on him 1080
will take care of that. I pray I
see you [920]
mature into fine young men,
victorious
over all my enemies.
[MEDEA starts to weep]
Medea,
why turn away? Why weep and fill
your eyes
with these pale tears? What I have
said,
does that not make you happy?
MEDEA
It’s nothing.
I was thinking of the children.
JASON
Cheer up.
I will see that they are well
looked after.
MEDEA
I will cheer up. I trust what you
have said.
But it’s a woman’s nature to shed
tears. 1090
JASON
But why be so tearful with the
boys?
MEDEA
I gave birth to them. When you made
that prayer [930]
about them growing up, I felt pity,
wondering how things would turn out
for them.
But let’s discuss the reasons for
your visit.
I’ve mentioned some. Now I’ll let
you know the rest.
Since the rulers here are keen to
banish me,
I recognize the best thing I can do
is try not to stand in their way or
yours,
by staying here. This royal house
thinks me 1100
their enemy. So I’ve made up my
mind
to leave this country and go into
exile.
But you should beg
Creon to spare our boys,
not banish them, so they can grow
up here, [940]
under your direction.
JASON
Well, I don’t know
if I can convince him. But I should
try.
MEDEA
You could tell your wife to ask her
father
not to send the children into
exile.
JASON
A good idea. I think I can persuade
her.
MEDEA
You will, if she’s a woman like the
rest. 1110
And I’ll give you some help. I’ll
send her gifts,
by far the finest human gifts I
know,
a finely woven gown, a diadem
of twisted gold. The boys will take
them.
One of my servants will fetch them
here— [950]
[MEDEA gestures to a
SERVANT]
You—bring me those
presents right away.
[The SERVANT goes into
the house]
She’s got more than
one reason to be happy,
that wife of yours. She’s blessed
in countless ways.
In you she’s found a very worthy
man
to share her bed—and now she gets
these gifts, 1120
which my grandfather Helios once
gave
to his descendants.
[The SERVANT returns with the gifts. MEDEA takes them and hands
them over to the CHILDREN]
Come,
children,
take up these wedding gifts and
carry them
as offerings to the happy royal
bride.
What she’s getting will be worthy
of her.
JASON
What are you doing, you foolish woman,
disposing of these things of yours?
Do you think
the royal house lacks clothes or
gold? Keep them. [960]
Don’t give
them away. If my wife values me,
she’ll set more store
on what I want to do 1130
than on rich possessions. I’m sure
of that.
MEDEA
Don’t say that. Even the gods, they
claim,
are won by gifts. And among mortal
men,
gold works more wonders than a
thousand words.
Her fortune’s on the rise. Gods
favour her.
She’s young, with royal power to
command.
But to spare my children
banishment,
I’d trade more than gold. I’d give
my life.
Now, children, when you get inside
the palace,
you must beg this new wife of your
father’s, 1140 [970]
my mistress, not to send you into
exile.
When you present these gifts, you
must make sure
she takes them from you herself, in
her own hands.
Now go and be quick about it. Good
luck!
Bring your mother back news of your
success,
the happy news she so desires to
hear.
[Exit JASON and the
CHILDREN, with the NURSE and TUTOR]
CHORUS
I’ve no longer any hope
that these children stay alive,
as they stroll to their own
slaughter.
The bride will take her diadem, 1150
she’ll take her golden ruin.
With her own hand she’ll fix
across her lovely yellow hair [980]
the jewelry of death.
The unearthly gleam,
the charm
will tempt her to put on the robe
and ornament of twisted gold.
Her marriage bed will lie among the
dead.
That’s the trap she’ll fall in.
That’s how
she’ll die. 1160
She can’t escape destruction.
And you, unlucky
man, [990]
married to the daughter of a king—
how ignorant you are right now,
bringing death to both your sons,
to your bride an agonizing end.
You most unfortunate man,
how wrong you were about your
destiny.
Next, I mourn your
sorrows,
unhappy mother of these children, 1170
intent on slaughtering your sons,
because your lawless husband
left you and your marriage bed [1000]
and now lives with another wife.
[Enter the TUTOR with
the CHILDREN]
TUTOR
My lady,
your children won’t be exiled.
The royal bride was happy to
accept,
with own hands, the gifts you sent
her.
Now the boys have made their peace
with her.
[MEDEA starts to weep]
What’s wrong? Why do
you stand there in distress?
Things have worked out well. Why turn
away again? 1180
Are you not happy to hear my
splendid news?
MEDEA
Alas . . .
TUTOR
An odd response to the
news I bring.
MEDEA
All I can say is I’m so sad . . . .
TUTOR
Have I mistakenly said something
bad?
Am I wrong to think my news is
good? [1010]
MEDEA
You’ve reported what you had to
tell me.
I’m not blaming you.
TUTOR
Then why avert your
eyes?
Why are you crying?
MEDEA
Old
man, I have my reasons.
The gods and I, with my worst
intentions,
have brought about this
situation. 1190
TUTOR
Be happy. Your children will one
day
bring you back home again.
MEDEA
But before that,
I shall bring others to their
homes—alas,
how miserable I feel.
TUTOR
You’re not the only mother whose children
have been separated from her. We
mortals
must bear our bad times patiently.
MEDEA
I’ll do so.
But now go in the house. And carry
on.
Give the children their usual
routine. [1020]
[TUTOR exits into the
house. The CHILDREN remain with MEDEA]
O children, my
children, you still have 1200
a city and a home, where you can
live,
once you have left me to my
suffering.
You can live on here without your
mother.
But I’ll go to some other country,
an exile, before I’ve had my joy in
you,
before I’ve seen you happy, or
helped
to decorate your marriage beds,
your brides,
your bridal chambers, or lifted
high
your wedding torches. How miserable
my self-will has made me. I raised
you— 1210
and all for nothing. The work I did
for you,
the cruel hardships, pains of childbirth— [1030]
all for nothing. Once, in my
foolishness,
I had many hopes in you—it’s true—
that you’d look after me in my old
age,
that you’d prepare my corpse with
your own hands,
in the proper way, as all people
wish.
But now my tender dreams have been
destroyed.
For I will live my life without you
two,
in sorrow, and those loving eyes of
yours 1220
will never see your mother any
more.
Your life is changing. O my
children, [1040]
why are you looking at me in that
way?
Why smile at me—that last smile of
yours?
Alas, what shall I do? You women
here,
my heart gives way when I see those
eyes,
my children’s
smiling eyes. I cannot do it.
Good bye to those earlier plans of
mine.
I’ll take my children from this
country.
Why harm them as a way to hurt
their father 1230
and have to suffer twice his pain
myself?
No, I won’t do that. And so
farewell
to what I planned before. But
what’s going on?
What’s wrong with me? Do I really
want
my enemies escaping
punishment, [1050]
while I become someone they
ridicule?
I will go through with this. What a
coward
I am to let my heart even admit
such sentimental reasons. Children,
you must go in the house.
[The CHILDREN move toward the house but remain at the door.]
Anyone forbidden 1240
to attend my sacrifice, let such a
man
concern himself about these
children.
My hand will never lack the
strength for this.
And yet . . . My heart, don’t do
this murder.
You’re made of stone, but leave the
boys alone.
Spare my children. If they remain
alive,
with me in Athens, they’ll make you
happy.
No! By those avengers in lower
Hell,
I’ll never deliver up my
children, [1060]
hand them over to their
enemies, 1250
to be humiliated. They must die—
that’s unavoidable, no matter what.
Since that must happen, then their
mother,
the one who gave them life, will
kill them.
At all events it’s settled. There’s
no way out.
On her head the royal bride already
wears
the poisoned crown. That dress is
killing her.
But I am treading an agonizing path
and send my children on one even
worse.
What I want to do now is say
farewell. 1260
[MEDEA moves to the CHILDREN
near the door, kneels down and hugs them]
Give me your right
hands, children. Come on. [1070]
Let your mother kiss them. Oh,
these hands—
how I love them—and how I love
these mouths,
faces—the bearing of such noble
boys.
I wish you happiness—but somewhere
else.
Where you live
now your father takes away.
O this soft embrace! Their skin’s
so tender.
My boys’ breathing smells so sweet
to me.
But you must go inside. Go. I can’t
stand
to look at you any more like this. 1270
The evil done to me has won the
day.
I understand too well the dreadful
act
I’m going to commit, but my
judgment
cannot check my anger, and that
incites
the greatest evils human beings
do. [1080]
[MEDEA shepherds the CHILDREN into the house, leaving the CHORUS
alone on stage]
CHORUS
Often, before this present time,
I’ve had to make more complex
arguments
and struggled with issues more
serious
than those which women ought to
wrestle with.
But we, too, have an artistic Muse 1280
who lives among us to teach us
wisdom.
But not all of us—the group of females
who can learn anything from her is
small—
in a crowd of women you might find
one.
So I can claim that among human
beings [1090]
those who have no experience of
children,
who have never given birth to
offspring,
such people have far more happiness
than those who have been parents.
With those who have no
children, 1290
because they never come to see
whether their children grow up
to be a blessing or a curse to men,
their failure to have offspring
shields them from many grievances.
But those who in their own homes
have a sweet race of children
growing,
I see them worn down with
cares [1100]
their whole life long. First,
how they can raise their children
well. 1300
Next, how they can leave their sons
sufficient livelihood. And then,
it’s by no means clear that all the
work
produces good or useless children.
There’s one final problem,
the worst for any mortal human
being—
I’ll tell you: suppose those
parents
have found a satisfactory way of
life
and seen their children grow
into strong, young, virtuous
men, 1310
if Fate so wills it, Death arrives, [1110]
and carries the children’s bodies
away to Hades. What profit, then,
is there for us and our love of
sons,
if the gods inflict on mortal men,
in addition to their other
troubles,
this most painful further sorrow.
[Enter MEDEA from the
house]
MEDEA
My friends, I’ve long been waiting
in suspense
to see what’s happening in the
royal house.
Now I see one of Jason’s servants
coming. 1320
His frantic breathing indicates to
me
he brings fresh news of some catastrophe. [1120]
[Enter the MESSENGER,
coming from the royal palace]
MESSENGER
Medea, you must escape—leave this
place.
You’ve done an awful deed, broken
every law.
Take ship and go by sea—or go
overland
by chariot. But you must go from
here.
MEDEA
What’s happened that I have to run
away?
MESSENGER
The king’s daughter has just been
destroyed,
her father, too—Creon. You poisoned
them.
MEDEA
What really splendid news you
bring. 1330
From now on, I’ll consider you a
friend,
one of my benefactors.
MESSENGER
What’s that?
Are you in your right mind, lady,
or insane?
To commit this crime against the
royal house, [1130]
and then be happy when you hear the
news,
without being afraid?
MEDEA
I have some remarks to offer in
reply.
But, my friend, don’t be in such a hurry.
Tell me of their deaths. If you
report
they died in pain, you’ll double my
rejoicing. 1340
MESSENGER
When your two children came with
their father
and entered the bride’s home, we
servants,
who had shared in your misfortune,
were glad,
for a rumour spread at once from
ear to ear
that you and your husband’s
previous quarrel [1140]
was now over. Someone kissed the
boys’ hands,
someone else their golden hair. In
my joy,
I went with the children right
inside,
into the women’s quarters. Our
mistress,
whom we now look up to instead of
you, 1350
before she caught sight of your two
children,
wanted to fix her eyes on Jason
only.
But then she veiled her eyes and
turned away
her white cheek, disgusted that
they’d come.
Your husband tried to change the
young bride’s mood, [1150]
to soften her anger, saying these
words,
“Don’t be so
hard-hearted with your family.
Check your anger, and turn
your face this way,
look at us again, and count as
friends of yours
those your husband thinks are
friends of his. 1360
Now, receive these gifts, and
then, for my sake,
beg your father not to exile
these two boys.”
Once she saw the
gifts, she did not hold out,
but agreed in everything with
Jason.
And before your children and their
father
had gone any distance from the
palace,
she took the richly embroidered gown
and put it on, then arranged the
golden crown, [1160]
fixing it in her hair at a bright
mirror,
smiling at her body’s lifeless
image there. 1370
Then she stood up from her seat and
strolled
across the room, moving delicately
on her pale feet, delighted at the
gifts,
with a great many glances to
inspect
the straightness of the dress
against her legs.
But then it happened—a horrific
sight.
She changed colour, staggered back and
sideways,
trembling, then fell into her chair
again,
almost collapsing on the floor. An
old woman, [1170]
one of her servants, thinking it
was a fit 1380
inspired by Pan or by some other
god,
shouted in festive joy, until she
saw
the white spit foaming in her
mouth, her eyes
bulging from their sockets, and her
pale skin
quite drained of blood. The servant
screamed again—
this time, to make up for her
former shout,
she cried out in distress. Another
slave
ran off at once towards her father’s palace,
and another to the girl’s new husband
to tell him the grim fate his bride
had met. 1390
The whole house rang with people’s
footsteps,
[1180]
as they hurried back and forth. By
the time
it would take a fast runner to
complete
two hundred yards and reach the
finish line,
her eyes opened—the poor girl woke
up,
breaking her silent fit with a
dreadful scream.
She was suffering a double agony—
around her head the golden diadem
shot out amazing molten streams of
fire
burning everything, and the fine
woven robe, 1400
your children’s gift, consumed the
poor girl’s flesh.
She jumped up from the chair and
ran away, [1190]
all of her on fire, tossing her
head, her hair,
this way and that, trying to shake
off
her golden crown—but it was fixed
in place,
and when she shook her hair, the
fire blazed
twice as high. Then she fell down
on the ground,
overcome by the disaster. No one
could recognize her, except her
father.
Her eyes had lost their clear
expression, 1410
her face had changed. And there was
blood
across her head, dripping down,
mixed with fire.
The flesh was peeling from her
bones, chewed off
by the poison’s secret jaws, just
like resin [1200]
oozing from a pine tree. An
appalling sight!
Everyone was too afraid to touch
the corpse—
what we’d seen had warned us. But
her father,
poor wretch, didn’t know what she’s
been through.
He came unexpectedly into the house
and stumbled on the corpse. He
cried aloud, 1420
embraced his daughter and kissed
her, saying,
“My poor child,
what god has been so cruel
to destroy you in this way?
Who’s taken you
away from me, an old man near
my death?
O my child, I wish I could die
with you.” [1210]
He ended his
lamenting cries. But then,
when he tried to raise his old body
up,
he was entangled in that woven
dress,
like ivy wrapped around a laurel branch.
He struggled dreadfully, trying to
get up 1430
onto his knees, but she held him
down.
If he used force, he tore his
ancient flesh
clear from his bones. The poor man
at last gave up.
His breathing stopped—he could not
stand the pain
a moment longer. So the two of them
lie dead—
the daughter, her old father, side
by side. [1220]
It’s horrible, something to make
one weep.
Concerning you there’s nothing I
will say.
For you’ll know
well enough the punishment
that’s coming to you. As for
human life, 1440
it seems to me, and not for the
first time,
nothing but shadows. And I might
say,
without feeling any fear, those mortals
who seem wise, who prepare their
words with care,
are guilty of the greatest
foolishness.
Among human beings no one is happy.
Wealth may flow in to produce a man
more lucky than another, but no
man, [1230]
is ever happy, no one.
[Exit MESSENGER]
CHORUS LEADER
This is the day, it seems, 1450
the god tightens troubles around
Jason,
and justly so. O poor Creon’s daughter,
how we pity your misfortune. You’re gone,
down in Hades’ home—the price you
pay
for marrying Jason.
MEDEA
I’ve made up my mind, my friends.
I’ll do it—kill my children now,
without delay,
and flee this land. I must not
hesitate.
That would hand them over to
someone else
to be slaughtered by a hand less
loving. 1460
No matter what, the children have
to die.
Since that’s the case, then I, who
gave them life, [1240]
will kill them. Arm yourself for this, my
heart.
Why do I put off doing this
dreadful act,
since it must be done? Come, pick up the sword,
wretched hand of mine. Pick up the
sword,
move to where your life of misery
begins.
Don’t play the coward. Don’t
remember now
how much you love them, how you
gave them life.
For this short day forget they are
your children 1470
and mourn them later. Although you
kill them,
still you loved them. As a woman,
I’m so sad. [1250]
[Exit MEDEA into the
house]
CHORUS
Hail to Earth,
Hail to the Sun,
whose rays illuminate all things.
Turn your eyes, look down,
see this destroying woman,
before she sets her bloody hands,
her instruments of murder,
onto her own children, 1480
those offshoots of your golden
race.
It’s a fearful thing for men
to spill the blood of gods.
O light which comes from Zeus,
stop her, take from the house
this blood-thirsty savage Fury
gripped by the spirit of
revenge. [1260]
The pain you felt in
giving birth
was useless, wasted.
Those children you so love, 1490
you bore them all in vain.
You who left behind you
the inhospitable passage
where the Symplegades
dance,
those deadly, dark-blue rocks,
you unhappy woman,
why does your anger
fall so heavily upon your heart,
and one harsh murder
follow so quickly on another? 1500
The polluting moral stain
that taints all mortal men
who shed their family blood
upon the earth—that’s hard to bear.
For the gods send down
onto the houses of the ones who
kill
sorrows to match their crimes. [1270]
CHILD [from inside the
house]
Help me . . . help . . .
CHORUS
Did you hear that?
Did you hear the children cry?
That wretched, evil woman! 1510
CHILD [from within]
What do I
do? How can I escape
my mother’s hands?
SECOND CHILD
I don’t
know, dear brother.
It’s over for us . . .
CHORUS [shouting in
response]
Should I go in the house?
I’m sure I must prevent this
murder.
CHILD
Yes—for the love of gods, stop
this! And hurry!
SECOND CHILD
The sword
has almost got us—like a snare!
CHORUS
You hard and wretched woman,
just like stone or iron—
to kill your children, [1280]
ones you bore yourself, 1520
sealing their fate with your own hands.
Of all women that ever lived before
I know of one, of only one,
who laid hands on her dear
children—
and that was Ino,
driven to madness by the gods,
when Hera, Zeus’ wife,
sent her wandering in a fit
away from home,
that sad lady leapt into the
sea, 1530
because she’d killed her sons
a most unholy murder.
She walked into the surf
at the sea’s edge, perishing
so she could join in death
her own two children.6
But what horror still remains
after what’s happened here?
A woman’s marriage bed— [1290]
so full of pain—how many
evils,
1540
has it brought on humankind?
[Enter JASON with
attendants]
JASON
You women standing there beside the
house,
where’s Medea, who’s done these
awful things?
Is she still inside? Or has she
left here?
She’ll have to hide herself under
the earth
or else fly up to heaven’s
overarching vault,
if she’s going to avoid her
punishment
from the royal house. Did she
really think
she could kill the rulers of this
country
and get away unharmed? But at this point 1550 [1300]
she’s no concern of mine.
I’m worried
for my children. Those whom she has
wronged
will take care of her. I’ve come
for the boys,
to save their lives, in case the
next of kin
try to harm me and mine,
retribution
for their mother’s profane murders.
CHORUS
Unhappy man, you don’t know the
full extent
of your misfortune, or you would
not say this.
JASON
What is it? Does she plan to kill
me, too?
CHORUS
Your boys are dead, killed by their
mother’s hand. 1560
JASON
No. What are you telling me? Woman, [1310]
you have destroyed me.
CHORUS
The boys are dead.
You must fix your mind on that.
They’re gone.
JASON
Where did she do this? Inside or outside?
CHORUS
Open the doors and you will see
them,
your slaughtered children.
JASON [shouting into the
house]
You
slaves in there,
remove the bar from this door at
once,
withdraw the bolts, so I may see
two things—
my dead sons and their murderer,
that woman
on whom I shall exact revenge. 1570
[JASON shakes the doors of the house, which remain closed. MEDEA
appears in a winged chariot, rising above the house. The bodies of the two
CHILDREN are visible in the chariot]
MEDEA
Why are you rattling the doors like
that,
trying to unbar them so you can
find
their bodies and me, the one who
killed them?
Stop trying. If you desire
something from me,
then say so, if you want to. But
you’ll never [1320]
have me in your grasp, not in this
chariot,
a gift to me from my grandfather
Helios,
to protect me from all enemy hands.
JASON
You accursed woman, most abominable
to the gods and me and all mankind.
You dared to take the sword to your
own boys, 1580
you—the one who bore them—and to
leave me
destroyed and childless. Having
done this,
after committing this atrocious
crime,
can you still look upon the earth
and sun?
May you be destroyed! Now I
understand—
I must have lost my mind to bring
you here,
from that savage country, to a
Greek home. [1330]
You were
truly evil then—you betrayed
your father and the land that
raised you.
But the avenging fury meant for
you 1590
the gods have sent to me. You
slaughtered
your brother in your home, then came aboard
our fine ship, the Argo. That’s how
you began.
When you married me and bore my
children,
in your lust for sex and our
marriage bed,
you killed them. No woman from Greece
would dare
to do this, but I chose you as my
wife [1340]
above them all, and that has proved
to be
a hateful marriage—it has destroyed
me.
You’re not a woman. You’re a
she-lion. 1600
Your nature is more bestial than
Scylla,
the Tuscan monster. But my insults,
multiplied a thousand fold, don’t
hurt you.
Your heart’s too hard for that. So
be off,
you shameful murderer of your
children.
Let me lament my fate. I’ll get no
delight
from my new bride, nor will I ever
speak
to my own living children, the two
boys
I bred and raised. They’re lost to
me. [1350]
MEDEA
I would reply to your words at
length, 1610
if father Zeus did not already know
what I did for you and what you did
to me.
You weren’t going to shame my
marriage bed
and have a pleasant life ridiculing
me,
nor was
that royal bride or Creon,
who gave her to you, going to
banish me,
throw me from here with impunity.
So if you want, call me a lioness
or Scylla, who lives on Tuscan
shores.
For I’ve made contact with your
heart at last. 1620 [1360]
JASON
You have your own share of pain and
sorrow.
MEDEA
That’s true. But there’s relief in
knowing
you cannot laugh at me.
JASON
O my children,
you had such an evil mother!
MEDEA
O my children,
victims of your father’s evil
actions!
JASON
At least it was not my hand that
killed them.
MEDEA
No. It was an insult—your new marriage.
JASON
Was it right to murder them for
that?
MEDEA
Do you think an insult to a woman
is something insignificant?
JASON
Yes, I do, 1630
to a woman with good sense. But to
you
it is completely evil.
MEDEA
Well,
your sons are gone.
That should cause
you pain. [1370]
JASON
I
think their spirits live
to take out their revenge on you.
MEDEA
The gods are aware who began this
fight.
JASON
Yes, they well know your detested
heart.
MEDEA
Keep up your hate. How I loathe
your voice.
JASON
And I hate yours. It won’t be
difficult
for the two of us to part.
MEDEA
Tell me how.
What shall I do? For that’s what I
want, too. 1640
JASON
Let me bury these dead boys and
mourn them.
MEDEA
Never. My own hands will bury them.
I’ll take them to Hera’s sacred
lands
in Acraia,
so no enemy of mine
will commit sacrilege against them
by tearing up their graves. And in
this place, [1380]
this land of Sisyphus, I’ll
initiate
a solemn celebration, with mystic
rites,
future atonement for this profane
murder.
I’ll now go to the land of Erechtheus,
1650
to live with Aegeus, son of Pandion.
As for you, you’ll have a miserable
death,
as is fitting for a coward. Now
you’ve seen
the bitter ending of your marriage to
me,
your head will be smashed in, when
you’re hit
by a moldy relic of your ship the
Argo.
JASON
May the avenging Fury of our
children
destroy you—may you find blood
justice. [1390]
MEDEA
What god or spirit listens to you,
a man who doesn’t keep his
promises, 1660
a man who deceives and lies to
strangers?
JASON
You polluted wretch! Child killer!
MEDEA
Go home.
Bury that wife of yours.
JASON
I’ll go.
I’ve lost both my sons.
MEDEA
Your grief’s not yet begun.
Wait until you’re old.
JASON
O such loving
children!
MEDEA
Their mother loved them. You did
not.
JASON
And yet you killed them?
MEDEA
Yes, to injure you.
JASON
Alas, how I long to see my dear
boys’ faces,
to hold them in my arms. [1400]
MEDEA
So now, at
this point,
you’ll talk to them, you’ll give
them an embrace. 1670
Before this, you shoved them from
you.
JASON
By the gods,
I beg you, let me feel their tender
skin.
MEDEA
No. Your words are wasted.
JASON
O Zeus,
do you hear how I’m being driven
off,
what I must endure from this child
killer,
this she lion, this abomination?
But I’ll use the strength I have
for grieving
and praying to the gods to bear
witness [1410]
how you have killed my children and
refuse
to let me hold their bodies or bury
them. 1680
How I wish I’d never been a father
and had to see you kill my
children.
[MEDEA’S chariot takes her and the CHILDREN up and away from the
scene. Exit JASON]
CHORUS
Zeus on Olympus,
dispenses many things.
Gods often contradict
our fondest expectations.
What we anticipate
does not come to pass.
What we don’t expect
some god finds a way 1690
to make it happen.
So with this story.
[Exit CHORUS]
ENDNOTES
1The
Symplegades were two rocky outcrops at the entrance
to the Black Sea that clashed together and destroyed ships. Jason and his crew
had to sail past them on their way to and from Cholchis.
[Back to Text]
2Pelion was a mountain in Thessaly whose
trees had provided the wood to construct Jason’s boat, the Argo. [Back
to Text]
3When Jason and Medea sailed away from
Colchis with the Golden Fleece, Medea’s father, king Aeetes, sailed in pursuit of them. To slow down her
father’s forces, Medea killed her brother Absyrtus
and scattered his remains on an island, because she knew Aeetes
would have to stop to collect his son’s body. [Back to Text]
4Apollo’s ancient oracle was his shrine at
Delphi. The navel stone in the temple there was believed to be the central
point of the earth. [Back to Text]
5Erechtheus was a legendary king of Athens,
founder of the polis. Erechtheus’ sons is a phrase that commonly denotes
citizens of Athens. [Back to Text]
6Ino was a mortal queen of Thebes, daughter
of Cadmus and Harmonia. She helped to nurse the
infant god Dionysus, Zeus’ child born to her sister Semele.
Zeus’ divine wife, Hera, enraged at the birth of Dionysus, drove Ino and her husband, Athamas,
mad, so that they killed their two sons (accounts differ as to how the children
died). [Back to Text]
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[For
a list of other translations by Ian Johnston, please check johnstonia]
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