The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vi Part 41

MEDEA (_pointing to _CREUSA).

Let her but go away!

They love me! Am I not their mother? Look How she doth beckon, nod to them, and draw Them further from me!

CREUSA. I will go away, Though I deserve not thy suspicious hate.

MEDEA. Come to me, children!--Come!--O viper brood!

[_She advances toward them threateningly; the children fly to_ CREUSA _for protection._]

MEDEA. They fly from me! They fly!

KING. Thou seest, Medea, The children will not come--so, get thee gone!

MEDEA. They will not? These my babes do fear to come Unto their mother?--No, it is not true, It cannot be!--Aeson, my elder son, My best beloved! See, thy mother calls!

Come to her! Nay, no more will I be harsh, No more enangered with thee! Thou shalt be Most precious in mine eyes, the one thing left I call mine own! Hark to thy mother! Come!-- He turns his face away, and will not! O Thou thankless child, thou image of thy sire, Like him in each false feature, in mine eyes Hateful, as he is! Stay, then, where thou art!

I know thee not!--But thou, Absyrtus, child Of my sore travail, with the merry face Of my lost brother whom with bitter tears I mourn, and mild and gentle as was he, See how thy mother kneels upon the ground And, weeping, calls thee! O let not her prayers Be all in vain! Absyrtus, come to me, My little son! Come to thy mother!--What?

He tarries where he is! Thou, too? Thou, too?

Give me a dagger, quick, that I may slay These whelps, and then myself!

[_She springs up._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MEDEA From the Grillparzer Monument at Vienna]

JASON. Nay, thou must thank thyself that thy wild ways Have startled them, estranged them, turned their hearts Unto that mild and gentle maid they love.

They do but echo what the G.o.ds decree!-- Depart now; but the babes, they tarry here.

MEDEA. O children, hear me!

JASON. See, they hearken not!

MEDEA. O children, children!

KING (_to_ CREUSA).

Lead them back again Into the palace! 'Tis not meet they hate The mother that did bear them.

[CREUSA _moves away with the children._]

MEDEA. Woe is me!

They flee! My children flee before my face!

KING (_to_ JASON).

Come we away! To weep for what must be Is fruitless!

[_They depart._]

MEDEA. O my babes, my little babes!

GORA _enters quickly._

GORA. Come, calm thyself, nor grant to these thy foes The joy of seeing how they've conquered thee!

MEDEA (_flinging herself upon the ground_).

Conquered I am, at last, made nothing worth, Trampled beneath my foes' triumphant feet!

They flee me, flee me! Mine own children flee me!

GORA (_bending over her_).

Thou must not die!

MEDEA. Nay, let me die! My babes, My little babes!

ACT IV

_The outer court of _CREON'S _palace, as in the preceding act. It is twilight._ MEDEA lies p.r.o.ne upon the steps that lead to her apartments; _GORA_ is standing before her._

GORA. Up, Medea, speak!

Why liest thou there so silent, staring Blindly before thee? Rise, and speak!

O, help our sore distress!

MEDEA. My babes! My babes!

GORA. Forth must we flee ere night shall fall, And already the twilight draweth down.

Up! Rouse thee, and gird thee for flight!

Swiftly they come to slay!

MEDEA. Alas, my children!

GORA. Nay, up! I say, unhappy one, Nor kill me with thy cries of woe!

Hadst thou but heeded when I warned, Still should we be at home In Colchis, safe; thy kinsmen yet Were living; all were well with us.

Rise up! What use are tears? Come, rise!

[MEDEA _drags herself half up and kneels on the steps._]

MEDEA. 'Twas so I knelt, 'twas so I lay And stretched my hands for pity out To mine own children; begged and wept And prayed for one, for only one Of my dear children! Death itself Were not so bitter, as to leave One of them here!--But to have none--!

And neither came! They turned away With terror on their baby lips, And fled for comfort to the breast Of her--my bitterest enemy!

[_She springs up suddenly._]

But he,--he laughed to see, and she Did laugh as well!

GORA. O, woe is me!