The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Vi Part 39

MEDEA. Nay, if it seem so hard, why dost not choose To fly with me?

JASON. But whither? Ay, and how?

MEDEA. There was a time thou hadst not shown thyself So over-prudent, when thou camest first To Colchis from the city of thy sires, Seeking the glitter of an empty fame In distant lands.

JASON. I am not what I was; Broken my strength, the courage in my breast A dead thing. And 'tis thou I have to thank For such misfortune! Bitter memories Of days long past lie like a weight of lead Upon my anxious soul; I cannot raise Mine eyes for heaviness of heart. And, more, The boy of those far days is grown a man, No longer, like a wanton, sportive child, Gambols amid bright flow'rs, but reaches out For ripened fruit, for what is real and sure.

Babes I have got, but have no place where they May lay their heads; my task it is to make An heritage for these. Shall Jason's stock Be but a withered weed beside the road, By all men spurned and trampled? If thou e'er Hast truly loved me, if I e'er was dear To thee, oh, give me proof thereof, restore Myself to me again, and yield a grave To me in this, my homeland!

MEDEA. And in this Same homeland a new marriage-bed, forsooth I Am I not right?

JASON. What idle talk is this?

MEDEA. Have I not heard how Creon named thee son, And husband of his daughter? She it is, Creusa, that doth charm thee, hold thee fast In Corinth! 'Tis for her that thou wouldst stay!

Confess, I have thee there!

JASON. Thou hast me not, And never hadst me.

MEDEA. So, thou wilt repent, And I, thy wife Medea, I must go Away?--I stood beside you there and wept As thou didst trace with her your happy days Of youth together, tarrying at each step In sweet remembrance, till thou didst become Naught but an echo of that distant past.-- I will not go, no, will not!

JASON. Thou'rt unjust, And hard and wild as ever!

MEDEA. I unjust!

Thou dost not seek her, then, to wife? Say no!

JASON. I do but seek a place to lay me down And rest. What else will come, I do not know!

MEDEA. Ay, but I know full well, and it shall be My task to thwart thee, with the help of heaven!

JASON. Thou canst not speak with calmness, so, farewell!

[_He takes a step toward the door._]

MEDEA. Jason!

JASON (_turning back_).

What wouldst thou?

MEDEA. 'Tis, perchance, the last, Last time that we shall speak together!

JASON. True; Then let us without hate or rancor part.

MEDEA. Thou mad'st me love thee deeply. Wouldst thou now Flee from my face?

JASON. I must!

MEDEA. Hast robbed me, too, Of my dear father; and wouldst steal away Mine husband?

JASON. I am helpless!

MEDEA. At thy hands My brother met his death untimely. Him Thou hast taken from me, too, and now wouldst fly And leave me?

JASON. He was innocent; he fell.

And I am blameless, too; but I must flee thee.

MEDEA. I left my fatherland to follow thee!

JASON. Thou didst but follow thine own will, not me.

Gladly would I, if thou hadst rued thy deed, Have sent thee back again.

MEDEA. I am accurst, And d.a.m.ned by all the world,--and all for thee!

And, for thy sake, I even hate myself!

Wilt thou forsake me still?

JASON. 'Tis not my will, Nay; but a higher bidding tells me plain That I must leave thy side. Thy fate seems hard, But what of mine? And yet, I pity thee, If that be any comfort!

MEDEA (_falling upon her knees to him_).

Jason!

JASON. Well?

What wouldst thou further?

MEDEA (_rising suddenly_).

Nothing! It is past And done with! O proud sires, O mighty G.o.ds Of Colchis, grant forgiveness to thy child Who hath so humbled and dishonored you, (Ay, and herself as well)--for I was pressed And needs must do it. Now, receive me back!

[JASON _turns to leave her._]

Jason!

JASON. Hope not that thou canst soften me!

MEDEA. Nay, never think I wished it! Give me back My babes!

JASON.

Thy children? Never!

MEDEA (_wildly_).

They are mine!

JASON. Men call them by their father's name; and that Shall never grace barbarians! Here in Greece I'll rear them, to be Greeks!

MEDEA. To be despised And scorned by offspring of thy later bed?

I tell thee, they are mine!