 | Medea |  |
38
SCENE the SEVENTH.
COLCHIANS and PHÆACIANS from the grove, and looking on Jason, as he quits the stage.A COLCHIAN.
[Solemn Recitative.]
Thou, who didst yoke the brazen-footed bulls,
And fearless guide the adamantine plough,
Which Vulcan labour'd, o'er the direful soil
Sown with the serpent's teeth, whence crested helms,
And spears high-brandish'd by the earth-born race
For thy encounter pierc'd the crumbling mold;
Thou conqueror, beware: more dang'rous foes
Doom'd to subdue thee in that palace wait.
And fearless guide the adamantine plough,
Which Vulcan labour'd, o'er the direful soil
Sown with the serpent's teeth, whence crested helms,
And spears high-brandish'd by the earth-born race
For thy encounter pierc'd the crumbling mold;
Thou conqueror, beware: more dang'rous foes
Doom'd to subdue thee in that palace wait.
A PHÆACIAN.
[Trochaics.]
Soft, alluring wiles are there
To seduce thee from the paths
Trod by godlike steps alone,
Paths of virtue, paths of praise.
Colchian monsters, Syren's songs
Might thy mortal frame destroy;
These will kill thy glorious name,
Matchless Jason, then beware.
To seduce thee from the paths
Trod by godlike steps alone,
Paths of virtue, paths of praise.
Colchian monsters, Syren's songs
Might thy mortal frame destroy;
These will kill thy glorious name,
Matchless Jason, then beware.
39
[Solemn Recitative.]
Thou yet untainted hero, Ah! reflect,
That keenest sorrow, poverty, or pain
Are light and gentle to the bitter darts
Thrice steep'd in gall, which Nemesis directs
Against his bosom, who by merit pass'd
Once drew th'enchanting melody of praise,
Then forfeiting the sweet report of fame
O'er his irrevocable loss repines.
That keenest sorrow, poverty, or pain
Are light and gentle to the bitter darts
Thrice steep'd in gall, which Nemesis directs
Against his bosom, who by merit pass'd
Once drew th'enchanting melody of praise,
Then forfeiting the sweet report of fame
O'er his irrevocable loss repines.
A PHÆACIAN.
[Trochaics.]
Shall the nymphs of Tempe's vale,
Who in rural lays record
Thy persuasive love, that won
Kind Medea to thy aid,
Shall they change th'applauding strain?
Shall the discord of reproach
Wound thy ear accustom'd long
To the music of renown?
Who in rural lays record
Thy persuasive love, that won
Kind Medea to thy aid,
Shall they change th'applauding strain?
Shall the discord of reproach
Wound thy ear accustom'd long
To the music of renown?
| Medea | |