University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Apartment of Medæa in the Palace of Creon.
Ægæus, Ethra.
Ægæus.
Ethra , thou know'st my Soul, thou know'st the Fires,
That slowly waste, and prey upon my Vitals;
Time, Absence, Reason, and th'uncommon Warmth,
With which Medæa doats on perjur'd Jason,
Ought to convince me she can ne'er be mine;
Yet still my thoughtless Passion hurries on;
From Realm to Realm, and Sea to Sea, I drag
The Chain of Hope; and wait upon her Fortunes.

ETHRA.
O Prince! with what a wild and distant View
Thy generous Soul pursues the fairy Prospect.
You see her Wrongs from Jason but inflame
And manifest her Passion in Extremes.
Not the most smiling Hour can make her thine.
Thy Love, Ægæus, may produce Esteem;
Esteem a cold Return; yet all that she
Can grant, or you expect.

ÆGÆUS.

ETHRA.
You know, Ægæus, wise and equal Creon,
Who rules this happy Land, the King of Corinth,
Adopted Jason as the worthiest Heir,
And gave his only Daughter to his Arms.
He chose him to secure, by this Allyance,
As far as human Foresight can secure,
A Race of future Princes wise and valiant.

ÆGÆUS.
This Usage may estrange Medæa's Heart.

ETHRA.
Yes, there is still this Hope; Creon resolves,
As Fame reports, to banish her from Corinth;
Medæa and her Children. Athens then
May prove a happy Refuge for that Princess,
A blest Assylum; and Ægæus then
May claim a Debt, a Debt of Gratitude.

ÆGÆUS.
O thou hast fir'd my Soul; a pleasing Warmth
Runs thro' my Veins. And is it possible?
This Hour, they say, the Nuptials were perform'd,
And Jason's and Creusa's Hands were join'd.

ETHRA.
'Tis true the Chariots are but now return'd
From Hymen's Temple. I observ'd the Croud;
The catching Joy ran thro' the giddy Populace;
Pleas'd and displeas'd they know not why; they shouted;
They hugg'd the gilded Spokes, and bore aloft
The Chariot Wheels. All Eyes were fix'd on Jason
And the fair Bride. They gaz'd and gap'd and swallow'd
With Joy the Show—the neighing Prancer's paw'd;
They rais'd their Crests, and beat the sparkling Pavement;
They shook their Mains, proud of their gilded Trappings;
With Veins inflam'd, and Nostrils breathing Fire
They likewise seem'd to share the general Triumph.

ÆGÆUS.
And did Medæa see this Sacrifice?

ETHRA.
She saw her Jason, crown'd with nuptial Garlands,
Lead his new Wife Creusa to the Temple;
She saw them mount the golden Throne together;
She saw the Priests perform the nuptial Sacrifice.

ÆGÆUS.
How did Medæa bear this stabbing Sight?

ETHRA.
As Seas opposing Winds; as the torn Earth
Convulsive fires, At first she strove to check
Her swelling Heart; she feign'd to seem unmov'd
And smiled contemptuously; but yet her Smiles
Were mark'd with Horror.—When a sudden Shivering
Seiz'd every Limb, and a dead Paleness spread
Her beauteous Face, she sunk into my Arms
A Weight of Death. Her Servants bore her hither
Intranc'd, and by her Sorrows overwhelm'd.
As she revives, her Pains revive again,
Again she feels, she rages, she complains.

ÆGÆUS.
Her Sufferings touch my sympathizing Soul.

ETHRA.
Now she beholds Medæa lost, neglected,
Her Beauties scorn'd. What Woman tamely bears
Contempt and slighted Love? She upbraids her Lord,
Her perjur'd Lord; she calls upon the Gods
And injur'd Justice, deprecates the Vengeance
Of Heav'n and Earth;—then desolate and mourning
Refuses Food and Sleep, while Drop by Drop
The Sorrows down her fading Features fall,
Nor lifts her Eyes to Heav'n, nor listens she
To Friends Advice, or wishes for her Health,
Deaf as the Rocks or Waves; then raves again,
Raises her bloodshot Eyes, with Sorrow swoln;
Deplores her Country lost, her Father's House
Abandon'd all for an ungrateful Husband.

ÆGÆUS.
Ungrateful! yes a vile unworthy Traitor.

ETHRA.
But when she sees the Children of this Husband,
The dearest Pledges, once, of mutual Love,
Redoubled Wrath tortures her aking Heart,
Her Soul impetuous, violent and rash,
Hardly supports her Wrongs; she suffers them
Indignant and enflam'd; I see the swellings
Of her tempestuous Mind, and every Hour
Expect to see the pointed Dagger plung'd
Deep in her Heart, stung with Despair and Jealousy.

ÆGÆUS.
Ye Gods! Propitious all to injur'd Virtue,
Ease her torn Mind; and mitigate her Pains.

ETHRA.
Jason perhaps, tho' her Soul doats to Death
On this ungrateful Man, may feel her Rage;
Or, when her Eye beholds the nuptial Bed
Of her false Lord, will she restrain her Hand
From Violence and Blood;—with Vehemence
She loves and hates.

[Flourish of Trumpets.
ÆGÆUS.
Attend, these Chariots speak the King's Approach.
The solemn, great Procession now has reach'd
The Palace Gates. Ethra, let us retire;
Endeavour with thy Council to support
Thy much wrong'd Sister, desolate Medæa.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Palace of CREON.
CREON, JASON, CREUSA, with Attendants,
From the Temple of Hymen.
Hymen in a flame-coloured Vest, with a Chaplet of Roses, a large waxen Taper in his right Hand, a golden Heart in his left Hand, and a Cornucopia by his Side. He is attended by six Priests of Hymen, with Olive Branches in their right Hands, and crown'd with Laurel and waxen Tapers in their left Hands; several Officers of the Palace in flame-coloured Robes. Jason and Creusa both crowned with the Greek Diadem, intermixed with Flowers. The King alone on the Throne, Jason and Creusa are seated on his right and left Hand, solemn Musick by the whole Orchæstra; the Hymenæal Dance. Creon descends.
CREON, JASON, CREUSA.
CREON.
Jason, thy Virtue shall deliver down
To late Posterity the Name of Creon.

JASON.
When you bestow, like Heav'n, beyond the Hope
Or Power of meriting, what can we pay
But the poor Sacrifice of Thanks? I feel
My Heart now swelling into Words to utter
What you with Pain would hear. My Benefactor,
My Royal Master, let me add, my Father,
By every Title dost thou hold my Heart;
I am thy Child, thy Servant, and thy Friend.

CREON.
Bending with Age, and looking to my Grave,
My Spirits rekindle at this wish'd Alliance;
They start again into a Blaze of Youth.
Here I take Root once more, I spring in thee;
I see arising from this wish'd Alliance
A Line of Heroes, valiant, wise and just,
The future Benefactors of Mankind.
I see them sink deep in the Lengths of Time,
And spreading wide. Ages unborn shall bless
This Union. All the Temples of our Gods
Shall yearly sound repeated Iô Pæans,
From Age to Age, as this great Day returns.

JASON.
Oh sweeter than the spicy Breath of Morning,
Best Gift of Heav'n and Creon, my Creusa;
Why are those Lights, whose Beams vyed with the Day,
Cast in a Shade? Why drops this pearly Dew?
Now, blushing like Aurora, the warm Blood
Crimsons thy Cheek, now pale as Cynthia's Rays.
Hence with these maiden Fears. Jason is thine;
If that be pleasing to thee; wholly thine.

CREUSA.
That you are mine, it covers me with Shame
When I confess so much, and fills my Soul
With Joy, with Transport not to be related.
Oh that you were, that you were wholly mine!

[Aside.
CREON.
Thy Sex, Creusa, is by Nature weak,
Made up of Tenderness and soft Compassion,
Unapt to combat with the Cares of Life.
The Gods have form'd you in the Arts of Peace,
To sweeten and reward the Hero's Toils.
The Warrior is the fair One's strong Defence,
Her Bulwark 'gainst Adversity and Violence.
What better Guardian of my Realms and thee
Cou'd I provide than Jason, fam'd and honour'd,
The Pride of wond'ring Greece, inur'd to Dangers,
Taught in Adversity's hard School to bend,
To break his Passions and subdue himself?

CREUSA.
(If there are Creatures of superior Excellence,
Who cover with their Wings the weak and innocent)
Thou art my guardian God. Yes, I look up
With Honour towards my glorious, great Protector.
Rever'd and lov'd, thus let me pay my Thanks,
[kneeling.
Yet let my Soul open her Fears before thee.
[rising.
Medæa, Sir,—she claims a Right above me;
She threatens, rages, jealous and revengeful.
A jealous Woman's Hate is to be feared.
Medæa too is skill'd in dreadful Knowledge,
In Nature's Secrets learn'd; the magian Arts
Are all her own; she draws from Drugs and Simples
Distracting Poisons and inchanting Powers.
These Fears, forgive me, do a little cloud
The Joys of this bright Day.

CREON.
Creusa, fear not,
I have provided well. Retire, my Child;
The ceremonious Labours of the Day
Demand repose. Forms of thy tender Make
Are hurt and weary'd with the least Disorder.

[Jason leads Creusa to the Door and returns.
[Exeunt Creusa and Attendants.
[Remain only Creon and Jason.

SCENE III.

CREON.
Jason, thou know'st our Council have advis'd
To drive this Woman into Banishment,
This most unhappy Source of all thy Sufferings,
Cruel Medæa; Wisdom, Justice, Reason,
The publick Safety, all demand her Exile.

JASON.
My Soul, yet conscious of the Wrongs I suffer,
Forgives Medæa, as her Guilt was caus'd
By Love, by her unhappy Love for Jason.
I know her haughty and ungovern'd Spirit
Will ne'er forgive me; yet my Soul relenting
Begs you wou'd suffer her to end her Days,
They cannot now be long, in your Protection.

CREON.
I would not probe too deep thy wounded Mind,
Nor set again before thee, what thy Soul
With Horror saw, the Misery and Bloodshed,
With which this lawless Woman has dishonour'd
Thee and thy House; yet let us well provide
Against those Evils she yet meditates,
And then for ever lose her in Oblivion;
For Policy requires that publick Mischiefs
Should rather be prevented than deplor'd.
Let me speak plain; these Children of Medæa
(Whose guiltless Innocence now move our Pity)
With envious and ambitious Eyes may see
The House of Creon. Seeds of civil Discord
May flame in future Times and interrupt
The publick Peace.

JASON.
Yet what can she attempt!
Friendless and weak, and subject to thy Power,
Let her imbitter'd Jealousy have Scope,
Give Freedom to her Rage and her Invectives.
The Nations have already thrown her out
For Crimes too black to mention; all but Athens.
There good Ægæus, govern'd by his Passion,
Leaves one Assylum open to her Crimes.
Wou'd it not look like Fear, mingled with Malice,
To cast her out thus destitute and weak,
Unable to assault us but with Weapons
To be depis'd; her Malice and her Tongue.

CREON.
You plead her Cause with much Humanity;
There's some Impression of your antient Flame
Left on your Heart. Nor do I blame thee, Jason;
A generous Warmth opens the Hero's Soul,
And soft Compassion flows where Courage dwells.
Yet let us wisely learn t'oppose our Passions
And check the softer Dictates of our Nature,
Where both the publick and the private Weal
Demand the Magistrate to guard the State.

JASON.
How is the Magistrate concern'd to guard
Against a weak, defenseless Woman's Threats?

CREON.
True; were she number'd with the common Mass
Of Females, who complain of broken Vows
And wedlock Bonds dissolv'd, her Threats might pass
As Trifles of no Consequence or Danger.
Medæa's Soul is form'd above the Vulgar.
The World with Wonder and with Horror view
Her Learning and Command of Nature's Powers;
Her Arts are known thro' all the Realms of Greece;
Her Magick fear'd; Ruin attends her Threats,
And Desolation waits on her Commands;
A daring Hand, a knowing Mind, a Heart
Burning and prompt to execute her Will,
By jealous Furies haunted. Wild Medæa
Gives us no Room to think her Menaces
Deserve to be contemn'd—No, let her go
To Exile; let her Children too attend her.

JASON.
Oh! Sir, my Children.

CREON.
—Yes, I said her Children.
I know how tenderly this touches thee;
Not to have treated with thee, on this Subject,
Might have been less indecent, not so generous;
Yet will I not oblige thy Tongue to utter
A forc'd Consent, lest Reason, urg'd too home,
Shou'd look like Violence.

JASON.
O Prince, thy Justice
Thus temper'd with Humanity and Sweetness
Forces the Criminal to bless the Mouth,
From whence the Words that sentence him proceed.

CREON.
Jason, this done, Medæa thus remov'd,
And those who may in future Times create
The Seeds of civil Discord, I retire,
A satisfy'd and well-pleas'd Guest, from Life.
If I have ruled, by Laws the Gods have given,
A willing People, and not made my Power
The Rule of Right and Wrong; if yet my Soul
Endeavours to deliver down this Trust
To Hands for Valour and for Justice fam'd,
Farther to bless the People thus committed
To my peculiar Care; Oh! may my Memory
Smell sweet when I am Dust, and good Men say,
He was an upright and a just Protector;
Such as the Rulers of the Earth shou'd be.

JASON.
O Prince, thy Soul is sway'd by equal Justice;
Thy People from their Benefits alone
Perceive thou art their King; glorious and good;
Known by superior Excellence a Prince,
The first among Mankind, as first in Virtue.
May the just Powers lengthen thy Days a little;
A little longer yet continue to us
The Bounty of thy Reign. A righteous King
Is like the God of Day, a general Parent.

CREON.
Too much of this;—Men, who delight in Virtue,
Feel in themselves the great Reward they seek;
We want not, but our Nature is so weak
We covet Praise. Jason, this very Hour
I will my self in Person see Medæa;
'Twou'd be indecent Treatment by a Herald
To send her Sentence; to her Dignity,
Her Rank and Character, we owe Respect.
I will endeavour by my Words to soften
The hard Necessity that drives her hence.
She shall at least be satisfy'd, my Jason,
There is no Malice mingled with the Punishment.

JASON.