University of Virginia Library

ACT the SECOND.

SCENE the FIRST.

JASON advancing from the end of the stage, THEANO on one side, MEDEA in the grove.
THEANO.
The princely steps of Jason are in sight.
He scarce conjectures, that th'indignant breast
Of her, he injures, pours from yonder shades
Its high-ton'd anguish. Yet, illustrious false one,
What stinging thoughts distort thy manly frame!
How have thy gestures lost their wonted grace
In this keen struggle with upbraiding conscience!
Thou soon before that inward judge arraign'd
Shalt hear me plead thy wrong'd Medea's cause.
This is the crisis—Too complacent hero,
By pride untutor'd, though misled by error,
Thou wilt be calm and gentle to rebuke.

JASON.
Press'd by a father's absolute decree,
Solicited by Corinth's potent lord,
Aw'd with the specious sound of public good,
I have consented, and the hour is nigh.
Oh! in some future hour of sad reflection
May not my heart with self-reproach confess,
This plea of public welfare was ambition;
And filial duty was a feeble tie
To authorise the breach of sacred vows.

MEDEA
in the grove.
Ungrateful Jason!

JASON.
Whence proceeds this voice?

MEDEA
in the grove.
O sire of light, thou seest my wrongs.

JASON.
Again?
Imagination pregnant with remorse
In sounds unreal yields its birth of terror.

MEDEA
in the grove.
Ye arbiters of oaths, and plighted faith,
O Jove and Themis, hear!

JASON.
It is a voice!
Resembling hers, when she alas! is far,
No mockery of fancy.

(Leans against the scene.
THEANO
advancing.
On his cheek
Health seems to wither. O'er his shaded sight
The shiv'ring eye-lids close. A creeping tremor
O'erspreads his fading lips, and dewy limbs.
Bless'd be these signals of returning virtue.
Hail! prince. Why stand'st thou listning? What alarms thee?

JASON.
An awful murmur from offended heav'n
Through yonder branches issu'd in a voice,
Which chill'd my spirit, and unnerv'd my strength.

THEANO.
What didst thou hear?

JASON.
Medea's well-known accents
Thrice did the vocal prodigy repeat,
Though seas divide her from these faithless arms.

THEANO.
There is no need of prodigy. Meer nature
In thy own breast will startle, when thou know'st,
It was Medea's self, who call'd on Jason.

JASON.
Herself?

THEANO.
The injur'd daughter of Æetes,
But newly-wafted from Thessalia's shore,
Thou may'st discover through those parting boughs;
Where she is seated near the fountain's brink
With her pale cheek reclining on the altar.

JASON
looking on the grove.
Stern deities of vengeance, and of justice!
Now pass your sentence, Nemesis and Themis!
My ill-wrought web of hated life unravel,
Which was not wove for happiness.

THEANO.
Be patient.

JASON.
Peculiar woes through ev'ry stage of being
Were Jason's portion. Early I beheld
My father's crown usurp'd. My youth subjected
To an insidious tyrant was devoted
A sacrifice in Colchis—So he hop'd,
And I wish now!—I triumph'd—Glory follow'd,
The source of new calamity to me.
Where is that glory? Serving selfish kings,
Abetting falshood, perjury and fraud.

THEANO.
Turn thy attention from thy own distress
To feel, what others suffer by thy frailty,
Thy wife and off-spring. Listen.

JASON.
I obey.

THEANO.
How could'st thou lead this all-excelling princess
From clime to clime, th'associate in thy toils,
To fall the victim in a foreign land
Of those unrighteous statutes, which appoint
Imperious husbands masters of divorce;
How think, th'establish'd practice of the Greeks,
Or all, which varnish'd policy might plead,
Could e'er absolve thee from a solemn tie
With such uncommon obligations bound
By those superior, those unwritten laws,
Which honour whispers to the conscious heart?

JASON.
O venerable woman, lend thy aid.

THEANO.
Attone thy fault. Repentance is heroic,
And holds its rank among the manly virtues.

JASON.
Yes, I renounce Creüsa, and her kingdom.
Yet see this breast with new-born terror beat.
Not all my trials through unnumber'd dangers
From monsters, famine, from the raging deep,
And dark-brow'd care have so confirm'd my courage,
But that I tremble at th'impending conflict.
I dread that scorn and fury, whose excess
May kill repentance, and provoke destruction.

SCENE the SECOND.

THEANO, JASON and LYCANDER.
LYCANDER.
The king, Theano, summons thee before him.

THEANO.
What time?

LYCANDER.
This instant.

THEANO.
I obey his pleasure.

JASON.
Thou wilt not leave me.

THEANO.
Thou hast heard this summons.
Heed my last words. Maintain thy just resolves.
Lycander, let thy conduct leave no room
For my reproaches, and the wrath of Juno.

LYCANDER.
Fear not; thy counsels shall be treasur'd here.

SCENE the THIRD.

JASON and LYCANDER.
LYCANDER.
I see a sudden change. My single charge
I will deliver, and forbear enquiry.
Long have I sought thee, prince. The royal Æson
Is now in Corinth, and will soon accost thee.

JASON.
My father here? Why, multiply distress,
Accumulate perplexity and shame
On my devoted head, ye righteous pow'rs!

LYCANDER.
Prince, he is near; and I return to Creon.

SCENE the FOURTH.

JASON and ÆSON.
JASON.
Amaz'd, distracted, tortur'd, I retain
My veneration here. O sacred head,
What from thy peaceful habitation calls
Thy silver hairs to these abodes of woe?
Or com'st thou wrapt in sable to lament
Our mutual errors, and dishonour'd names?

ÆSON.
Why I am here, why bearing this apparel,
Too soon will Jason know. But first reply;
Why on the sea's waste margin was my son
Observ'd to trace his solitary path;
When Corinth pauses in her gen'ral gladness,
Her choral songs and minstrelsy suspending
For Jason's absence?

JASON.
Better she should wait,
Whole ages wait, than justice be suspended,
And the return of honour be unwelcom'd.

ÆSON.
Can I interpret these mysterious words?

JASON.
Hast thou not heard, my father, that Medea
Weeps in that bow'r, invoking Jove and Themis
To witness what returns, she meets from Jason?

ÆSON.
What most I dreaded. Then my aged limbs
Must wear these garments still unchang'd, thy country,
Thy friends, thy father's house unceasing mourn.
The woes of exile more severe, than time,
Indent the furrows deeper on these brows.

JASON.
The woes of exile?

ÆSON.
Yes, the race of Pelias
Force me to Corinth. Young Acastus reigns.
The gen'rous Creon promises his aid;
That aid will Jason cruelly prohibit?

JASON.
Then we begin to reap the bitter harvest
From seeds, which selfish policy had sown.
When I was hurry'd to these fatal walls,
And, gall'd with jealous fear, Medea left thee;
Heav'n in that period from the roll of fortune
Eras'd our titles, and the with'ring scepter
Shrunk from thy grasp.

ÆSON.
Nay look not thus entranc'd.
What draws thy eye?

JASON.
She rises from the grove,
A Sun disfigur'd by a mist of sorrow
Rais'd from our crime. Awake thee—What remains,
But that we fall before our known protectress,
Confessing both in Jove's offended sight,
How much of weak inconstancy hath stain'd
My name of hero, what ignoble guile
Disgrac'd thy regal head?

ÆSON.
And who must save
Iolcos?

JASON.
She. Medea's gen'rous wisdom,
Which in itself contains the strength of armies,
And quell'd old Pelias, can dethrone the son.

ÆSON.
What frenzy guides thee? Follow me to Creon.

JASON.
Rest thou with me.

ÆSON.
Inhuman! dost thou covet
To see my age and dignity revil'd?
I charge thee, follow.

JASON.
Riveted, I wait,
As if congenial with this rock I grew
From its foundations, till Medea come.

ÆSON.
Revolter! she is coming—But my eye
Shall not be far. Remember, thou dost hazard
Thy country's love, perhaps thy father's too.

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.

JASON.
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.

MEDEA.
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,
Which parted your devoted lives from fate,
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.

JASON.
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
Her breathless voice—Oh! majesty! Oh! wisdom!
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,
Thou weak, thou blind, insensible and base?
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.

SCENE the SIXTH.

JASON and ÆSON.
JASON.
Then let the tempest roar, tyrannic woman,
The billows rise in mountains o'er thy head.

ÆSON.
Well, thou hast seen her; while thy father's eye
Ak'd at the low submission of a hero,
Who with unmollify'd disdain was spurn'd.
Say, will my gentle son persist to court
The fellowship of fury, and abide
The acrimonious taunt, the settled frown,
The still-renew'd upbraiding? Will my Jason
For this to deathless obloquy abandon
His name of hero, while his arm rejects
A proffer'd aid to reinstate his father,
Redeem his country, and refresh his laurels
With want of action fading?

JASON.
There, O Mars,
Thou dost provide a banquet for despair.

ÆSON.
No, for thy valour, son, a feast of glory.
Come, leave this melancholy spot. Return
With me to joy.

JASON.
I go—but never more
Speak to thy son of joy. My soul foregoes
All gentle thoughts. Its sad relief is horror
From the grim pow'r of homicide and ravage.
O that his ev'ning, lighted by the stars,
And glimpse of armour, I might turn my back
On Corinth's bulwarks; that the trumpet's clangor,
The shrill-mouth'd clarion, and the deep-ton'd horn,
The groans of slaughter, and the crash of spears
Might blend their discord for my nuptial song.

SCENE the SEVENTH.

COLCHIANS and PHÆACIANS from the grove, and looking on Jason, as he quits the stage.
A COLCHIAN.
[Solemn Recitative.]

A PHÆACIAN.
[Trochaics.]

A COLCHIAN.
[Solemn Recitative.]

A PHÆACIAN.
[Trochaics.]