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Translated by E. Coleridge.
57 pages - You are on Page 33
Medea: O Zeus, and Justice, child of Zeus, and Sun-god's light, now
will triumph o'er my foes, kind friends; on victory's road have I
set forth; good hope have I of wreaking vengeance on those I hate.
For where we were in most distress this stranger hath appeared, to
be a haven in my counsels; to him will we make fast the cables of
our ship when we come to the town and citadel of Pallas. But now will
I explain to thee my plans in full; do not expect to hear a pleasant
tale. A servant of mine will I to Jason send and crave an interview;
then when he comes I will address him with soft words, say, "this
pleases me," and, "that is well," even the marriage with the princess,
which my treacherous lord is celebrating, and add "it suits us both,
'twas well thought out"; then will I entreat that here my children
may abide, not that I mean to leave them in a hostile land for foes
to flout, but that I may slay the king's daughter by guile. For I
will send them with gifts in their hands, carrying them unto the bride
to save them from banishment, a robe of finest woof and a chaplet
of gold. And if these ornaments she take and put them on, miserably
shall she die, and likewise everyone who touches her; with such fell
poisons will I smear my gifts. And here I quit this theme; but I shudder
at the deed I must do next; for I will slay the children I have borne;
there is none shall take them from my toils; and when I have utterly
confounded Jason's house I will leave the land, escaping punishment
for my dear children's murder, after my most unholy deed. For I cannot
endure the taunts of enemies, kind friends; enough! what gain is life
to me? I have no country, home, or refuge left. O, I did wrong, that
hour I left my father's home, persuaded by that Hellene's words, who
now shall pay the penalty, so help me God, Never shall he see again
alive the children I bore to him, nor from his new bride shall he
beget issue, for she must die a hideous death, slain by my drugs.
Let no one deem me a poor weak woman who sits with folded hands, but
of another mould, dangerous to foes and well-disposed to friends;
for they win the fairest fame who live then, life like me.
Euripides Complete Works
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