Legendary Passages #0090 -XVI ARGONAUTS-
The Nurse (Part 1) of Euripides' Medea.
Unlike previous episodes, the next seven are actually a play, performed by myself, and by my sister Aly playing as Medea. In this passage, Jason has decided to leave her and wed the daughter of Creon, and worse, Medea's family is to be driven from the city.
Two servants, an Attendant watching the children and an old nurse, discuss the recent marital woes, while off stage Medea cries in lamentation. After the Attendant leaves, both the nurse and the chorus worry what sort of revenge awaits Jason and his bride.
http://sacred-texts.com/cla/eurip/medea.htm
The Nurse (Part 1),
a Legendary Passage,
from Euripides' Medea,
trans. by E. P. Coleridge.
Before MEDEA's house in Corinth, near the palace Of CREON. The NURSE
enters from the house.
NURSE Ah! Would to Heaven the good ship Argo ne'er had sped its
course to the Colchian land through the misty blue Symplegades, nor
ever in the glens of Pelion the pine been felled to furnish with oars
the chieftain's hands, who went to fetch the golden fleece for Pelias;
for then would my own mistress Medea never have sailed to the turrets
of Iolcos, her soul with love for Jason smitten, nor would she have
beguiled the daughters of Pelias to slay their father and come to
live here in the land of Corinth with her husband and children, where
her exile found favour with the citizens to whose land she had come,
and in all things of her own accord was she at one with Jason, the
greatest safeguard this when wife and husband do agree; but now their
love is all turned to hate, and tenderest ties are weak. For Jason
hath betrayed his own children and my mistress dear for the love of
a royal bride, for he hath wedded the daughter of Creon, lord of this
land. While Medea, his hapless wife, thus scorned, appeals to the
oaths he swore, recalls the strong pledge his right hand gave, and
bids heaven be witness what requital she is finding from Jason. And
here she lies fasting, yielding her body to her grief, wasting away
in tears ever since she learnt that she was wronged by her husband,
never lifting her eye nor raising her face from off the ground; and
she lends as deaf an ear to her friend's warning as if she were a
rock or ocean billow, save when she turns her snow-white neck aside
and softly to herself bemoans her father dear, her country and her
home, which she gave up to come hither with the man who now holds
her in dishonour. She, poor lady, hath by sad experience learnt how
good a thing it is never to quit one's native land. And she hates
her children now and feels no joy at seeing them; I fear she may contrive
some untoward scheme; for her mood is dangerous nor will she brook
her cruel treatment; full well I know her, and I much do dread that
she will plunge the keen sword through their hearts, stealing without
a word into the chamber where their marriage couch is spread, or else
that she will slay the prince and bridegroom too, and so find some
calamity still more grievous than the present; for dreadful is her
wrath; verily the man that doth incur her hate will have no easy task
to raise o'er her a song of triumph. Lo! where her sons come hither
from their childish sports; little they reck of their mother's woes,
for the soul of the young is no friend to sorrow. (The ATTENDANT
leads in MEDEA'S children.)
ATTENDANT Why dost thou, so long my lady's own handmaid, stand here
at the gate alone, loudly lamenting to thyself the piteous tale? how
comes it that Medea will have thee leave her to herself?
NURSE Old man, attendant on the sons of Jason, our masters' fortunes
when they go awry make good slaves grieve and touch their hearts.
Oh! have come to such a pitch of grief that there stole a yearning
wish upon me to come forth hither and proclaim to heaven and earth
my mistress's hard fate.
ATTENDANT What! has not the poor lady ceased yet from her lamentation?
NURSE Would I were as thou art! the mischief is but now beginning;
it has not reached its climax yet.
ATTENDANT O foolish one, if I may call my mistress such a name; how
little she recks of evils yet more recent!
NURSE What mean'st, old man? grudge not to tell me.
ATTENDANT 'Tis naught; I do repent me even of the words I have spoken.
NURSE Nay, by thy beard I conjure thee, hide it not from thy fellow-slave;
will be silent, if need be, on that text.
ATTENDANT I heard one say, pretending not to listen as I approached
the place where our greybeards sit playing draughts near Pirene's
sacred spring, that Creon, the ruler of this land, is bent on driving
these children and their mother from the boundaries of Corinth; but
I know not whether the news is to be relied upon, and would fain it
were not.
NURSE What! will Jason brook such treatment of his sons, even though
he be at variance with their mother?
ATTENDANT Old ties give way to new; he bears no longer any love to
this family.
NURSE Undone, it seems, are we, if to old woes fresh ones we add,
ere we have drained the former to the dregs.
ATTENDANT Hold thou thy peace, say not a word of this; 'tis no time
for our mistress to learn hereof.
NURSE O children, do ye hear how your father feels towards you? Perdition
catch him, but no he is my master still; yet is he proved a very traitor
to his nearest and dearest.
ATTENDANT And who 'mongst men is not? Art learning only now, that
every single man cares for himself more than for his neighbour, some
from honest motives, others for mere gain's sake? seeing that to indulge
his passion their father has ceased to love these children.
NURSE Go, children, within the house; all will be well. Do thou keep
them as far away as may be, and bring them not near their mother in
her evil hour. For ere this have I seen her eyeing them savagely,
as though she were minded to do them some hurt, and well I know she
will not cease from her fury till she have pounced on some victim.
At least may she turn her hand against her foes, and not against her
friends.
MEDEA (chanting within) Ah, me! a wretched suffering woman I! O
would that I could die!
NURSE (chanting) 'Tis as I said, my dear children; wild fancies
stir your mother's heart, wild fury goads her on. Into the house without
delay, come not near her eye, approach her not, beware her savage
mood, the fell tempest of her reckless heart. In, in with what speed
ye may. For 'tis plain she will soon redouble her fury; that cry is
but the herald of the gathering storm-cloud whose lightning soon will
flash; what will her proud restless soul, in the anguish of despair,
be guilty of? (The ATTENDANT takes the children into the house.)
MEDEA(chanting within) Ah, me! the agony I have suffered, deep enough
to call for these laments! Curse you and your father too, ye children
damned, sons of a doomed mother! Ruin seize the whole family!
NURSE (chanting) Ah me! ah me! the pity of it! Why, pray, do thy
children share their father's crime? Why hatest thou them? Woe is
you, poor children, how do I grieve for you lest ye suffer some outrage!
Strange are the tempers of princes, and maybe because they seldom
have to obey, and mostly lord it over others, change they their moods
with difficulty. 'Tis better then to have been trained to live on
equal terms. Be it mine to reach old age, not in proud pomp, but in
security! Moderation wins the day first as a better word for men to
use, and likewise it is far the best course for them to pursue; but
greatness that doth o'erreach itself, brings no blessing to mortal
men; but pays a penalty of greater ruin whenever fortune is wroth
with a family. (The CHORUS enters. The following lines between the
NURSE, CHORUS, and MEDEA are sung.)
CHORUS I heard the voice, uplifted loud, of our poor Colchian lady,
nor yet is she quiet; speak, aged dame, for as I stood by the house
with double gates I heard a voice of weeping from within, and I do
grieve, lady, for the sorrows of this house, for it hath won my love.
NURSE 'Tis a house no more; all that is passed away long since; a
royal bride keeps Jason at her side, while our mistress pines away
in her bower, finding no comfort for her soul in aught her friends
can say.
MEDEA (within) Oh, oh! Would that Heaven's levin bolt would cleave
this head in twain! What gain is life to me? Woe, woe is me! O, to
die and win release, quitting this loathed existence!
CHORUS Didst hear, O Zeus, thou earth, and thou, O light, the piteous
note of woe the hapless wife is uttering? How shall a yearning for
that insatiate resting-place ever hasten for thee, poor reckless one,
the end that death alone can bring? Never pray for that. And if thy
lord prefers a fresh love, be not angered with him for that; Zeus
will judge 'twixt thee and him herein. Then mourn not for thy husband's
loss too much, nor waste thyself away.
MEDEA (within) Great Themis, and husband of Themis, behold what
I am suffering now, though I did bind that accursed one, my husband,
by strong oaths to me! O, to see him and his bride some day brought
to utter destruction, they and their house with them, for that they
presume to wrong me thus unprovoked. O my father, my country, that
I have left to my shame, after slaying my own brother.
NURSE Do ye hear her words, how loudly she adjures Themis, oft invoked,
and Zeus, whom men regard as keeper of their oaths? On no mere trifle
surely will our mistress spend her rage.
CHORUS Would that she would come forth for us to see, and listen
to the words of counsel we might give, if haply she might lay aside
the fierce fury of her wrath, and her temper stern. Never be my zeal
at any rate denied my friends! But go thou and bring her hither outside
the house, and tell her this our friendly thought; haste thee ere
she do some mischief to those inside the house, for this sorrow of
hers is mounting high.
NURSE This will I do; but I doubt whether I shall persuade my mistress;
still willingly will I undertake this trouble for you; albeit, she
glares upon her servants with the look of a lioness with cubs, whenso
anyone draws nigh to speak to her. Wert thou to call the men of old
time rude uncultured boors thou wouldst not err, seeing that they
devised their hymns for festive occasions, for banquets, and to grace
the board, a pleasure to catch the ear, shed o'er our life, but no
man hath found a way to allay hated grief by music and the minstrel's
varied strain, whence arise slaughters and fell strokes of fate to
o'erthrow the homes of men. And yet this were surely a gain, to heal
men's wounds by music's spell, but why tune they their idle song where
rich banquets are spread? For of itself doth the rich banquet, set
before them, afford to men delight.
CHORUS I heard a bitter cry of lamentation! loudly, bitterly she
calls on the traitor of her marriage bed, her perfidious spouse; by
grievous wrongs oppressed she invokes Themis, bride of Zeus, witness
of oaths, who brought her unto Hellas, the land that fronts the strand
of Asia, o'er the sea by night through ocean's boundless gate.
http://sacred-texts.com/cla/eurip/medea.htm
This passage continues as Medea is confronted by Creon, in part 2.
