Studies in the Poetry of Italy, Part I. Roman

John Stuart Mill · en
_Nurse._    The Colchians are thy foes; thy husband's vows have failed;
              Of all thy vast possessions not a jot is left.

  _Medea._    Yet I am left. There's left both sea and land and fire
              And sword and gods and hurtling thunderbolts.

  _Nurse._    The king must be revered.

  _Medea._                               My father was a king.

  _Nurse._    Dost thou not fear?

  _Medea._                   Not though the earth produced the foe.

  _Nurse._    Thou'lt perish.

  _Medea._                    So I wish it.

  _Nurse._                                  Flee!

  _Medea._                                      I'm done with flight.
              Why should Medea flee?

  _Nurse._                              Thy children!

  _Medea._                                   Whose, thou know'st.

  _Nurse._    And dost thou still delay?

  _Medea._                            I go, but vengeance first.

  _Nurse._    Th' avenger will pursue.

  _Medea._                        Perchance I'll stop his course.

  _Nurse._    Nay, hold thy words and cease thy threats, O foolish one.
              Thy temper curb; 'tis well to yield to fate's decrees.

  _Medea._    Though fate may strip me of my all, myself am left.
              But who flings wide the royal palace doors? Behold,
              'Tis Creon's self, exalted high in Grecian sway.

                               [_Medea retires to the back of the stage._

  _Creon._   [_As he enters._]
              Medea, baleful daughter of the Colchian king,
              Has not yet taken her hateful presence from our realm.
              On mischief is she bent; well known her treacherous power.
              For who escapes her? Who may pass his days in peace?
              This cursed pestilence at once would I have stayed
              By force of arms: but Jason's prayers prevailed. She still
              May live, but let her free my borders from the fear
              Her presence genders, and her safety gain by flight.

                      [_He sees Medea approaching._]

              But lo, she comes with fierce and threatening mien to seek
              An audience with us.
                                 Slaves! defend us from her touch
              And pestilential presence! Bid her silence keep,
              And learn at length obedience to the king's
              Commands.

              [_To Medea._] Go, speed thy flight, thou thing of evil,
                fell
              And monstrous!

  _Medea._               What the crime, my lord, or what the guilt
              That merits exile?

  _Creon._                        Let the guiltless question thus.

  _Medea._    If now thou judgest, hear me; if thou reign'st, command.

  _Creon._    The king's command thou must obey, nor question aught.

  _Medea._    Unrighteous kingdoms never long endure.