Studies in the Poetry of Italy, I. Roman Part 3

_Jason._ Dost thou reproach me with a guilty love?

_Medea._ Yea, that, And murder too, and treachery.

_Jason._ But name me now, If so thou canst, the crimes that I have done.

_Medea._ Thy crimes-- Whatever I have done.

_Jason._ Why then, in truth, thy guilt Must all be mine, if all thy crimes are mine.

_Medea._ They are, They are all thine: for who by sin advantage gains Commits the sin. All men proclaim thy wife defiled; Do thou thyself protect her and condone her sins.

Let her be guiltless in thine eyes who for thy gain Has sinned.

_Jason._ But gifts which sin has brought 'twere shame to take.

_Medea._ Why keep'st thou then the gifts which it were shame to take?

_Jason._ Nay, curb thy fiery soul! Thy children--for their sake Be calm.

_Medea._ My children! Them I do refuse, reject, Renounce! Shall then Creusa brothers bear to these My children?

_Jason._ But the queen can aid thy wretched sons.

_Medea._ May that day never dawn, that day of shame and woe, When in one house are joined the low-born and the high, The sons of that foul robber Sisyphus, and these The sons of Phoebus.

_Jason._ Wretched one, and wilt thou, then Involve me also in thy fall? Begone, I pray.

_Medea._ The king hath yielded to my prayer.

_Jason._ What wouldst thou then?

_Medea._ Of thee? I'd have thee dare the law.

_Jason._ The royal power Doth compa.s.s me.

_Medea._ A greater than the king is here: Medea. Set us front to front, and let us strive; And of this royal strife let Jason be the prize.

_Jason._ Outwearied by my woes I yield. But be thou ware, Medea, lest too often thou shouldst tempt thy fate.

_Medea._ Yet Fortune's mistress have I ever been.

_Jason._ But see With hostile front Acastus comes, on vengeance bent, While Creon threatens instant death.

_Medea._ Then flee them both.

I ask thee not to draw thy sword against the king, Nor yet to stain thy pious hands with kindred blood.

Come, flee with me.

_Jason._ But what resistance can we make, If war with double visage rear his horrid front,-- If Creon and Acastus join in common cause?

_Medea._ Add, too, the Colchian armies with my father's self To lead them; join the Scythian and Pelasgian hordes.

In one deep grief of ruin will I whelm them all.

_Jason._ Yet on the scepter do I look with fear.

_Medea._ Beware, Lest not the fear, but l.u.s.t of power prevail with thee.

_Jason._ Too long we strive: have done, lest we suspicion breed.

_Medea._ Now Jove, throughout thy heavens let the thunders roll!

Thy mighty arm make bare! Thy darting flames Of vengeance loose, and shake the lofty firmament With rending storms! At random hurl thy vengeful bolts, Selecting neither me nor Jason with thy aim, That thus whoever falls may perish with the brand Of guilt upon him. For thy hurtling darts can take No erring flight.

_Jason._ Recall thee and in calmness speak With words of peace and reason. Then if any gift From Creon's royal house can compensate thy woes, Take that as solace of thy flight.

_Medea._ My soul doth scorn The wealth of kings. But let me have my little ones As comrades of my flight, that in their childish b.r.e.a.s.t.s Their mother's tears may flow. New sons await thy home.

_Jason._ My heart inclines to yield to thee, but love forbids.

For these my sons shall never from my arms be reft, Though Creon's self demand. My very spring of life, My sore heart's comfort and my joy are these my sons; And sooner could I part with limbs or vital breath, Or light of life.

_Medea._ [_Aside._] Doth he thus love his sons? 'Tis well; Then is he bound, and in his armored strength this flaw Reveals the place to strike.

Here, apparently, is the first suggestion to Medea of the most terrible part of the revenge which she was to take upon Jason. The obvious revenge upon Creon and his daughter, as well as upon her husband, Medea had already foreshadowed in her opening words; but her deadly pa.s.sion had not yet been aimed at her children. It is true that twice she had bitterly renounced them, once to the nurse, and again but now to Jason himself, since they were Jason's also, and were likely now to be brothers to the sons of her hated rival; nevertheless her mother-love still is strong. But now, by Jason's unfortunate emphasis upon the love he bears his sons, she sees a chance to obtain that measure of revenge which in her heart she has already resolved to find. And yet this thought is so terrible to her that, even though we see her shape her present course in reference to it, it is evident that she gives it no more than a subconscious existence.

But now she resolves to conceal her purposes of revenge and overcome Jason with guile, and thus addresses him:

At least ere I depart Grant me this last request: let me once more embrace My sons. E'en that small boon will comfort my sad heart.

And this my latest prayer to thee: if, in my grief, My tongue was over-bold, let not my words remain To rankle in thy heart. Remember happier things Of me, and let my bitter words be straight forgot.

Jason is completely deceived, as Creon had been, by Medea's seeming humility, as if, indeed, a pa.s.sionate nature like hers, inflamed by wrongs like hers, could be restrained and tamed by a few calm words of advice! He says:

Not one shall linger in my soul; and curb, I pray, Thy too impetuous heart, and gently yield to fate.

For resignation ever soothes the woful soul.

[_Exit Jason._

As Jason leaves her, calmly satisfied with this disposition of affairs, with no recognition of his wife's great sufferings, the thought of this adds fresh fuel to her pa.s.sion.

He's gone! And can it be? And shall he thus depart, Forgetting me and all my service? Must I drop, Like some discarded toy, out of his faithless heart?

It shall not be. Up then, and summon all thy strength And all thy skill! And this, the fruit of former crime, Count nothing criminal that works thy will!

But lo, We're hedged about; scant room is left for our designs.

Now must the attack be made where least suspicion makes The least resistance. Now Medea, on! And do, And dare thine utmost, yea, beyond thy utmost power!

[_To the Nurse._] Do thou, my faithful nurse, the comrade of my grief, And all the devious wanderings of my checkered course, a.s.sist me now in these my plans. There is a robe, The glory of our Colchian realm, the precious gift Of Phoebus' self to King aeetes as a proof Of fatherhood; a gleaming circlet, too, all wrought With threads of gold, the yellow gold bespangled o'er With gems, a fitting crown to deck a princess' head.

These treasures let Medea's children bear as gifts To Jason's bride. But first imbue them with the power Of magic, and invoke the aid of Hecate; The woe-producing sacrifices then prepare, And let the sacred flames through all our courts resound.

The chorus, which is supposed to be present throughout the play, an interested though inactive witness of all that pa.s.ses, has already been seen to be a partisan of Jason, and hostile to Medea. It now sings a choral interlude opening on the text "h.e.l.l hath no fury like a woman scorned," and continuing with a prayer for Jason's safety. It then recounts the individual history of Jason's companions subsequent to the Argonautic expedition, showing how almost all came to an untimely end.

These might indeed be said to have deserved their fate, for they volunteered to a.s.sist in that first impious voyage in quest of the golden fleece; but Jason should be spared the general doom, for the task had been imposed upon him by his usurping uncle, Pelias.

As the next scene opens, the old nurse voices the feeling that we all have upon the eve of some expected but unknown horror.

My spirit trembles, for I feel the near approach Of some unseen disaster. Swiftly grows her grief, Its own fires kindling; and again her pa.s.sion's force Hath leaped to life. I oft have seen her, with the fit Of inspiration in her soul, confront the G.o.ds, And force the very heavens to her will. But now, A monstrous deed of greater moment far than these Medea is preparing. For, but now, did she With step of frenzy hurry off until she reached Her stricken home. There, in her chamber, all her stores Of magic wonders are revealed; once more she views The things herself hath held in fear these many years, Unloosing one by one her ministers of ill, Occult, unspeakable, and wrapt in mystery.