Euripides, Medea

ToposText · Euripides · 142 sections

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§ 1000 left you and your marriage bed 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? Are you not happy with my splendid news? MEDEA: Alas... TUTOR: An odd response to the report I bring. MEDEA: All I can say is that I feel so sad.... TUTOR: Have I mistakenly said something bad?
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§ 1010 Am I wrong to think my news is good? 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. 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 much misery 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.
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§ 1020 Give the children their usual routine. [TUTOR EXITS INTO THE HOUSE. THE CHILDREN REMAIN WITH MEDEA.] O children, my children, you still have 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— and all for nothing. The work I did for you,
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§ 1030 the cruel hardships, pains of childbirth— 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 will never see your mother any more.
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§ 1040 Your life is changing. O my children, 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 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
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§ 1050 my enemies escaping punishment, 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 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,
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§ 1060 I’ll never deliver up my children, hand them over to their enemies, 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. [MEDEA moves to the CHILDREN near the door, kneels down and hugs them.]
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§ 1070 Give me your right hands, children. Come on. 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. 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
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§ 1080 the greatest evils human beings do. [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 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.
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§ 1090 So I can claim that among human beings 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, 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,
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§ 1100 I see them worn down with cares their whole life long. First, how they can raise their children well. 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,
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§ 1110 if Fate so wills it, Death arrives, 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. His frantic breathing indicates to me
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§ 1120 he brings fresh news of some catastrophe. [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. 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?
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§ 1130 To commit this crime against the royal house, and then be happy when you hear the news, without being terribly 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. 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
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§ 1140 that you and your husband’s previous quarrel 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, 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.
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§ 1150 Your husband tried to change the young bride’s mood, 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. 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
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§ 1160 and put it on, then arranged the golden crown, fixing it in her hair at a bright mirror, smiling at her body’s lifeless image there. 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,
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§ 1170 almost collapsing on the floor. An old woman, one of her servants, thinking it was a fit 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.
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§ 1180 The whole house rang with people’s footsteps, 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, your children’s gift, consumed the poor girl’s flesh.
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§ 1190 She jumped up from the chair and ran away, 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, 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
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§ 1200 by the poison’s secret jaws, just like resin 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, 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?
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§ 1210 O my child, I wish I could die with you.” 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 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—
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§ 1220 the daughter, her old father, side by side. 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, 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
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§ 1230 more lucky than another, but no man, is ever happy, no one. [EXIT MESSENGER.] CHORUS LEADER: This is the day, it seems, 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. No matter what, the children have to die.
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§ 1240 Since that’s the case, then I, who gave them life, 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 and mourn them later. Although you kill them,
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§ 1250 still you loved them. As a woman, I’m so sad. [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, 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
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§ 1260 gripped by the spirit of revenge. The pain you felt in giving birth was useless, wasted. Those children you so love, 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? 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
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§ 1270 sorrows to match their crimes. CHILD [from inside the house] Help me... help... CHORUS: Did you hear that? Did you hear the children cry? That wretched, evil woman! 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—
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§ 1280 to kill your children, ones you bore yourself, 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, 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. But what horror still remains after what’s happened here? A woman’s marriage bed—
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§ 1290 so full of pain—how many evils, 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
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§ 1300 and get away unharmed? But at this point 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.
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§ 1310 JASON: No. What are you telling me? Woman, 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. [JASON SHAKES THE DOORS OF THE HOUSE. 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,
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§ 1320 then say so, if you want to. But you’ll never 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, 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,
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§ 1330 from that savage country, to a Greek home. You were truly evil then—you betrayed your father and the land that raised you. But the avenging fury meant for you 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
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§ 1340 to do this, but I chose you as my wife 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. 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
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§ 1350 I bred and raised. They’re lost to me. MEDEA: I would reply to your words at length, 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.
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§ 1360 For I’ve made contact with your heart at last. 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, to a woman with good sense. But to you it is completely evil. MEDEA: Well, your sons are gone.
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§ 1370 That should cause you pain. 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. 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 precinct in Acraia, so no enemy of mine will commit sacrilege against them
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§ 1380 by tearing up their graves. And in this place, 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, 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
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§ 1390 destroy you—may you find blood justice. MEDEA: What god or spirit listens to you, a man who doesn’t keep his promises, 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,
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§ 1400 to hold them in my arms. MEDEA: So now, at this point, you’ll talk to them, you’ll give them an embrace. 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
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§ 1410 and praying to the gods to bear witness how you have killed my children and refuse to let me hold their bodies or bury them. 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 to make it happen. So with this story. [EXIT CHORUS.]

Via ToposText (topostext.org), a project of the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation created by Brady Kiesling. Translated by Ian C. Johnston (1938- ). Composed ca. 431 BCE. Licence: copyright Ian Johnston, used by permission. Source.