Medea (856-945)

I am come at thy bidding, for e’en though thy hate for me is bitter thou shalt not fail in this small boon, but I will hear what new request thou hast to make of me, lady.

Jason, I crave thy pardon

for the words I spoke, and well thou mayest brook my burst of passion, for ere now we twain have shared much love. For I have reasoned with my soul and railed upon me thus, Ah! poor heart 1 why am I thus distraught, why so angered ’gainst all good advice,

why have I come to hate the rulers of the land, my husband too, who does the best for me he can, in wedding with a princess and rearing for my children noble brothers? Shall I not cease to fret? What possesses me, when heaven its best doth offer?

Have I not my children to consider? do I forget that we are fugitives, in need of friends? When I had thought all this I saw how foolish I had been, how senselessly enraged. So now I do commend thee and think thee most wise in forming

this connexion for us; but I was mad, I who should have shared in these designs, helped on thy plans, and lent my aid to bring about the match, only too pleased to wait upon thy bride. But what we are, we are, we women, evil I will not say;

wherefore thou shouldst not sink to our sorry level nor with our weapons meet our childishness.

I yield and do confess that I was wrong then, but now have I come to a better mind. Come hither, my children, come, leave the house,

step forth, and with me greet and bid farewell to your father, be reconciled from all past bitterness unto your friends, as now your mother is; for we have made a truce and anger is no more. Enter the Children. Take his right hand; ah me! my sad fate!

when I reflect, as now, upon the hidden future. O my children, since there awaits you even thus a long, long life, stretch forth the hand to take a fond farewell. Ah me! how new[*] to tears am I, how full of fear! For now that I have at last released me from my quarrel with your father,

I let the tear-drops stream adown my tender cheek.

From my eyes too bursts forth the copious tear; O, may no greater ill than the present e’er befall!

Lady, I praise this conduct, not that I blame what is past; for it is but natural to the female sex to vent their spleen against a husband

when he trafficks in other marriages besides his own.[*] But thy heart is changed to wiser schemes and thou art determined on the better course, late though it be; this is acting like a woman of sober sense. And for you, my sons, hath your father provided

with all good heed a sure refuge, by God’s grace; for ye, I trow, shall with your brothers share hereafter the foremost rank in this Corinthian realm. Only grow up, for all the rest your sire and whoso of the gods is kind to us is bringing to pass.

May I see you reach man’s full estate, high o’er the heads of those I hate! But thou, lady, why with fresh tears dost thou thine eyelids wet, turning away thy wan cheek, with no welcome for these my happy tidings?

’Tis naught; upon these children my thoughts were turned.

Then take heart; for I will see that it is well with them.

I will do so; nor will I doubt thy word; woman is a weak creature, ever given to tears.

Why prithee, unhappy one, dost moan o’er these children?

I gave them birth; and when thou didst pray long life for them, pity entered into my soul to think that these things must be. But the reason of thy coming hither to speak with me is partly told, the rest will I now mention. Since it is the pleasure of the rulers of the land to banish me,

and well I know ’twere best for me to stand not in the way of thee or of the rulers by dwelling here, enemy as I am thought unto their house, forth from this land in exile am I going, but these children,—that they may know thy fostering hand,

beg Creon to remit their banishment

I doubt whether I can persuade him, yet must I attempt it.

At least do thou bid thy wife ask her sire this boon, to remit the exile of the children from this land.

Yea, that will I; and her methinks I shall persuade,

since she is a woman like the rest.