University of Virginia Library

SCENE the FOURTH.

MEDEA, COLCHIANS and PHÆACIANS, CREON, LYCANDER and attendants.
MEDEA.
Why comes the king of Corinth
To break upon my sorrows, and to vaunt,
That his injustice is endu'd with pow'r
To grieve Medea?

CREON.
To debate, weak woman,
Is thy known province; to command is mine.
Be seen no longer in the bounds of Corinth.

MEDEA.
And who art thou, dost give Medea law,
And circumscribe the slend'rest spot on earth
Against her passage. Unconfin'd, as winds,
I range with nature to her utmost bounds;
While, as I tread, mankind reveres my steps,
Its hidden pow'rs each element unfolds,
And mightiest heroes anxious for renown
Implore Medea's favour. What is Creon,
Who from the sun's descendant dares withold
The right to hospitality and justice?

CREON.
Not of the number, who revere thy steps,
Or supplicate thy favour; one, whose scepter
Forbids thy residence in Greece. Away;
Range through the snows of Caucasus; return
To Pontic desarts, to thy native wilds:
Among barbarians magnify thy deeds.
This land admits no wand'rer like Medea,
Who with a stranger from her father fled,
Fled from her country, and betray'd them both.

MEDEA.
With him I fled, whom thou wouldst foully draw
Through blackest treason to thy daughter's bed;
And for the rest, if equity, or wisdom
Were Creon's portion, I would plead before him:
But vindicate my actions to a robber,
Who basely watch'd my absence to purloin
My only wealth! my lofty soul disdains it.

CREON.
Hence, while thou may'st, rash woman, ere thou prove,
How strong the awful image of the gods
Is stampt on monarchs, and thou feel my wrath
Swift in destruction like the bolt of Jove.

MEDEA.
Dost thou recount thy fables to Medea,
The ideot tale, which cheats the gaping vulgar,
To her, who knows the secret source of things?
Behold this comely image of the gods.
This violator of the holiest ties,
Whom the dull hand of undiscerning chance
Hath deck'd in purple robes, and pageant gold,
Resembles much the majesty of heav'n.

CREON.
Thy bare expulsion shall not now attone.
I will stand forth th'avenger of Æetes
On his false daughter; for thy crimes in Colchis
Vindictive furies in this distant region,
Shame, chastisement and insult shall o'ertake thee,
Spoil that fair body, humble that fell heart;
Till, as with bitt'rest agony it breaks,
Thou curse its wild temerity, which brav'd
The pond'rous hand of majesty incens'd.

MEDEA.
Ha! thou vain-boaster, hast thou yet to learn,
That I can rock the iron throne of Pluto;
Can waft thee struggling to Rhiphæan crags,
Where thou shalt rave and foam and gnash thy teeth;
Where frost shall parch thee, where the clouds shall scatter
Their storms around thee, whirl in sportive air
Thy gorgeous robe, thy diadem and scepter:
While I—Oh! fruitless, unsubstantial pow'r!
Must still continue wretched—Oh! vain threat!
Hath he not torn my Jason from these arms?
What then avails the knowledge of my mind?
Stretch'd on the rack of anguish is my heart.
What spark of wisdom in my breast remains?
All is extinguish'd there—Oh! Jason! Jason!

[Is supported by her women.
CREON
to Lycander.
Thou seest the haughty sorceress abash'd
Before a monarch's persevering frown.

LYCANDER
aside.
Most injur'd woman!

CREON.
Go, transport her hence,
Ere she revive.

LYCANDER.
The multitude already
Begins to murmur; were this holy place
Defil'd by force, their zeal would swell to madness.
Perhaps this princess for her wisdom fam'd
May be persuaded to abandon Corinth.
And she revives with milder looks.

MEDEA
aside.
Pride, pride,
For once be wise; in lowliness disguise thee,
That thou may'st rise to vengeance. King of Corinth,
I only crave three hours to quit thy borders.

CREON
to Lycander.
If she exceed that slender space of time,
Force shall remove her from my loathing sight.

LYCANDER
to Medea, while Creon is going.
This contest, princess, thou hast wisely clos'd.
Three hours elaps'd, expect me to return
Thy safe conductor to the kingdom's frontier.