 | Medea |  |
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SCENE the FIFTH.
JASON apart, MEDEA, COLCHIANS and PHÆACIANS.JASON.
How shall I face her injur'd worth, how chuse
The most auspicious moment to accost her?
MEDEA.
Why have I science to command the moon,
To draw the spirits from the realms of night,
And trace the hidden pow'rs of baneful nature?
Why am I wise, unless to feel my sorrows
With sharper sensibility, and prove,
How weak is wisdom struggling with despair?
FIRST COLCHIAN.
Its succour yet solicit. Wisdom smooths
Each thorny path, and Virtue is her sister.
MEDEA.
Old man, be silent. Hath Medea's grief
The leisure now to hear thy moral tale?
No, let me loath my being, curse the sun,
My bright forefather, and upbraid the heav'ns,
That I was ever born. I will exclaim;
I will demand, ye unrelenting pow'rs,
Why your injustice terrifies the earth
With such an image of distress, as mine.
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This interview I see in all its terrors;
But further pause will turn suspence to madness.
Medea—I am come . . . .
MEDEA.
And dar'st thou come
With that unmatch'd ingratitude and falshood
To face the constant worth, thou now betray'st?
JASON.
I come to lay my errors in thy view.
MEDEA.
No, to my view display Creüsa's beauty;
Dwell on her merit, who excels Medea.
JASON.
The deity presiding o'er that temple
I call to witness, that my father's pleasure . . . .
MEDEA.
And dost thou urge thy father, thou perfidious?
Thy father!—Oh! that I had been thus wise,
And ne'er forgot the duty of a child.
Thy father gave thee a precarious being,
In its first flight of glory doom'd to fall
Fresh in its prime a victim to oblivion,
Had not I sav'd and borne thee to renown.
JASON.
Yes, Jason's life and glory are thy gifts.
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I gave thee too my love, my virgin love,
My friends, my country, my unspotted fame,
My joy, my peace, all, all on thee bestow'd;
What could a father more? Him too my pow'r
Snatch'd from oppression, and his trech'rous brother,
Usurping Pelias slew, that cruel Pelias,
Who on thy youth impos'd the dang'rous toil,
Whence I preserv'd thee—But, my wrath, be still.
Inconstant, base alike, both son and sire
Deserve my scorn.
JASON.
Shall contumelious harshness
Blot those perfections from the sun deriv'd,
And not one moment to thy wisdom yield,
That thou may'st hear me?
MEDEA.
No, thou most ingrate
Of all, who e'er forgot their benefactors.
When the fam'd Argo fraught with Grecian princes
Pierc'd with its beak the sandy verge of Phasis,
What daring hand, but mine, their trophies rais'd?
The golden fleece amid th'enchanted grove
Had hung untouch'd beside its scaly guardian;
Wild dogs and vultures had devour'd your limbs;
Your bones had whiten'd on the Colchian strand.
I fearless stept between the narrow bounds,
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With mystic spels entranc'd the sleepless dragon,
Bent to the yoke the brazen-footed bulls,
And gave you safety, victory and fame.
JASON.
I own thy merits; and the deep remembrance . . .
MEDEA.
Forever be detested that remembrance.
Curs'd be the skill, which fram'd your fatal bark,
Accurs'd the gale, which fill'd her spreading canvas,
But doubly curs'd the hour, the hour of ruin,
When first I view'd that smiling, trech'rous form,
And fondly trusted to the fair delusion.
O that amid the terrors of enchantment,
When for thy sake profoundest hell was open'd,
Some fiend had whirl'd me to the desart pole;
Or that the earth dividing with my charms
Low, as her central cavern, had entomb'd me.
JASON.
I feel thy anguish, daughter of Æetes,
Which would o'erwhelm me, had I less to offer,
Than my repentant heart.
MEDEA.
Thy perjur'd heart
Foul with ingratitude and guilt. Avaunt,
And give it thy Creüsa; I despise thee.
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Think, who I am. Though criminal I stand
And mourn my fault, forget not, I am Jason
By fame in brightest characters recorded.
Deserving thy reproaches, I endur'd them;
But sure the lustre of my name is proof
Against contempt.
MEDEA.
The recompence of falshood.
JASON.
Hold, I conjure thee!—Nay, I will be heard.
When first I sail'd for Corinth, all my purpose
Was to establish by a league with Creon
Th'unstable throne of Thessaly, since crush'd
By fierce Acastus. Æson's strict injunction
To wed Creüsa follow'd my arrival;
When thou wert distant from my sight, and Creon
Would grant his friendship. . . . .
MEDEA.
But by thy disgrace.
JASON.
Impatient woman!
MEDEA.
Could a king's protection
Be rank'd with mine, thou weakly-perjur'd man?
JASON.
Thou shalt not stop me by th'immortal gods!
I will proceed—Intemp'rate passion stifles
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Oh! features once divine! how long shall rage
Despoil your grace? No other form of beauty,
No qualities, or talents to thy own
Have I preferr'd. By empire's glaring bubble,
By policy's ensnaring voice misled,
Or by mistaken duty to a parent,
I swerv'd from sacred faith. At thy approach
Light flashes through my error; to thy feet
Contrition brings me no ignoble suppliant:
The scourge of tyrants, vanquisher of monsters,
Thy instrument of glory now most glorious,
That he subdues himself, implores thy pardon.
Oh! unadvis'd!—Obdurate!—While I sue,
Thy unforgiving brow returns disdain.
Think of thy children!
MEDEA.
Traitor, dar'st thou name them?
JASON.
Beware; destruction with a hunter's speed
Pursues us both. Inextricable snares
Are spreading round us—Ha! be calm—Provoke
Ill fate no further—Weigh in wisdom's balance
The pow'rful obligations, which assail'd me.
MEDEA.
Can they be weigh'd with conquest, life and fame,
The vast profusion of my bounty on thee,
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No, my superior soul shall stoop no more.
Though once from foul defeat and death I sav'd thee,
I will not raise thee from thy grov'ling falshood.
Let fortune's whole malignity pursue me,
I and my children wretched, as we may be,
Outcast, derided by the barb'rous herd,
Spurn'd by th'unpitying proud, with grim despair,
With beggary and famine our companions
Will wander through th'inhospitable world,
Nor ev'n amidst our complicated woes
E'er think of thee, perfidious, but with scorn.
| Medea | |