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A Minor Poet and other Verse. Levy, Amy, 1861–1889.
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page: 35
Scene : Before Medea’s House.
[Enter Medea.]

Medea.

TO‐DAY, to‐day, I know not why it is, I do bethink me of my Colchian home. To‐day, that I am lone and weary and sad, I fain would call back days of pride and hope ; Of pride in strength, when strength was all unprov’d, Of hope too high, too sweet, to be confined In limits of conception. page: 36 I am sad Here in this gracious city, whose white walls Gleam snow‐like in the sunlight ; whose fair shrines Are filled with wondrous images of gods ; Upon whose harbour’s bosom ride tall ships, Black‐masted, fraught with fragrant merchandise ; Whose straight‐limbed people, in fair stuffs arrayed, Do throng from morn till eve the sunny streets. For what avail fair shrines and images ? What, cunning workmanship and purple robes ? Light of sweet sunlight, play and spray of waves ? When all around the air is charged and chill, And all the place is drear and dark with hate ? Alas, alas, this people loves me not ! This strong, fair people, marble‐cold and smooth As modelled marble. I, an alien here, That well can speak the language of their lips, The language of their souls may never learn. And in their hands, I, that did know myself Ere now, a creature in whose veins ran blood Redder, more rapid, than flows round most hearts, Do seem a creature reft of life and soul. If they would only teach the subtle trick page: 37 By which their hearts are melted into love, I’d strive to learn it. I am very meek. They think me proud, but I am very meek, Ready to do their bidding. Hear me, friends ! Friends, I am very hungry, give me love ! ’Tis all I ask ! is it so hard to give ? You stand and front me with your hostile eyes ; You only give me hatred ? Yet I know Ye are not all unloving. Oft I see The men and women walking in the ways, Hand within hand, and tender‐bated breath, On summer evenings when the sky is fair. O men and women, are ye then so hard ? Will ye not give a little of your love To me that am so hungry ?

Enter Ægeus and Nikias, on the opposite side. Medea steps back on the threshold and pauses.]

Ha, that word ! ’Tis Jason’s name they bandy to and fro. I know not why, whene’er his name is spoke, Once name of joy and ever name of love, I wax white and do tremble ; sudden seized With shadowy apprehension. May’t forbode No evil unto him I hold so dear ; page: 38 And ever dearer with the waxing years :— For this indeed is woman’s chiefest curse, That still her constant heart clings to its love Through all time and all chances ; while the man Is caught with newness ; coldly calculates, And measures pain and pleasure, loss and gain ; And ever grows to look with the world’s eye Upon a woman, tho’ his, body and soul. [She goes within.]
[The two citizens come forward.]

Nikias.

I, in this thing, do hold our Jason wise ; Kreon is mighty ; Glaukê very fair.

Ægeus.

An ’twere for that—the Colchian’s fair enough.

Nikias.

I like not your swart skins and purple hair ; Your black, fierce eyes where the brows meet across. By all the gods ! when yonder Colchian Fixes me with her strange and sudden gaze, Each hair upon my body stands erect ! Zeus, ’tis a very tiger, and as mute ! page: 39

Ægeus.

’Tis certain that the woman’s something strange.

Nikias.

Gods, spare me your strange women, so say I. Give me gold hair, lithe limbs and gracious smiles, And spare the strangeness.

Ægeus.

I do marvel much How she will bear the tidings.

Nikias.

Lo, behold ! Here comes our Jason striding ’thwart the streets. Gods ! what a gracious presence !

Ægeus.

I perceive The Colchian on the threshold. By her looks, Our idle talk has reached her listening ears.
[Enter Jason. Medea reappears on the threshold.]
page: 40

Nikias.

Let’s draw aside and mark them ; lo, they meet.

[The two citizens withdraw, unperceived, to a further corner of the stage.]

Medea.

’Tis false, ’tis false. O Jason, they speak false !

Jason.

Your looks are wild, Medea ; you bring shame Upon this house, that stand with hair unbound Beyond the threshold. Get you in the house.

Medea.

But not till you have answered me this thing.

Jason.

What is this thing that you would know of me ?

Medea.

O I have heard strange rumours—horrible !

Jason.

Oft lies the horror of a tale in the ear Of him that hears it. What is ’t you have heard ? page: 41

Medea.

Almost, for fear, I dare not give it tongue. But tell me this ? Love, you have not forgot The long years passed in this Corinthian home ? The great love I have borne you through the years ? Nor that far time when, in your mighty craft, You came, a stranger, to the Colchian shore ? O strong you were ; but not of such a strength To have escaped the doom of horrid death, Had not I, counting neither loss nor gain, Shown you the way to triumph and renown.

Jason.

And better had I then, a thousand times, Have fought with my good sword and fall’n or stood As the high Fates directed ; than been caught In the close meshes of the magic web Wrought by your hand, dark‐thoughted sorceress.

Nikias.

Did you mark that ? Jason speaks low and smooth ; Yet there is that within his level tones, page: 42 And in the icy drooping of his lids (More than his words, tho’ they are harsh enough), Tells me he hates her.

Ægeus.

Hush ! Medea speaks.

Medea.

O gods, gods ; ye have cursed me in this gift ! Is it for this, for this that I have striven ? Have wrestled in the darkness ? wept my tears ? Have fought with sweet desires and hopes and thoughts ? Have watched when men were sleeping ? for long days Have shunned the sunlight and the breaths of Heaven ? Is it for this, for this that I have prayed Long prayers, poured out with blood and cries and tears ? Lo, I who strove for strength have grown more weak Than is the weakest. I have poured the sap Of all my being, my life’s very life, Before a thankless godhead ; and am grown page: 43 No woman, but a monster. What avail Charms, spells and potions, all my hard‐won arts, My mystic workings, seeing they cannot win One little common spark of human love ? O gods, gods, ye have cursed me in this gift ! More should ye have withheld or more have giv’n ; Have fashioned me more weak or else more strong. Behold me now, your work, a thing of fear— From natural human fellowship cut off, And yet a woman—sick and sore with pain ; Hungry for love and music of men’s praise, But walled about as with a mighty wall, Far from men’s reach and sight, alone, alone.

Nikias.

Behold her, how she waves about her arms And casts her eyes to Heaven.

Ægeus.

Ay, ’tis strange— Not as our women do, yet scarce unmeet.

Nikias.

Unmeet, unmeet ? But Jason holds it so ! page: 44 Mark you his white cheeks and his knitted brows, What wrath and hate and scorn upon his face !

Jason.

Hear me, Medea, if you still can hear That seem so strangely lifted from yourself : But I, that know you long, do know you well, A thing of moods and passions ; so I bear Once more with your wild words and savage gests, Ay, and for all your fury speak you fair. You say you love me. Can I deem it so, When what does most advantage me and mine You shrink to hear of ? For I make no doubt, Fleet‐footed rumour did anticipate The tidings I was hastening to bear, When you, wide‐eyed, unveiled, unfilleted, Rushed out upon me. Know then this once more : That I have sworn to take as wedded wife Glaukê, the daughter of our mighty king, In this, in nowise hurting you and yours. For you all fair provisions I have made, So but you get beyond the city walls Before the night comes on. Our little ones— They too shall journey with you. I have said. page: 45 And had I found you in a mood more mild, Less swayed by savage passion, I had told How this thing, which mayhap seems a thing hard, Is but a blessing, wrapped and cloaked about In harsh disguisements. For tho’ Kreon rule To‐day within the city ; Kreon dead, Who else shall rule there saving I alone, The king’s son loved of him and other men ? And in those days Medea’s sons and mine Shall stand at my right hand, grown great in power. Medea, too, if she do but control Her fiery spirit, may yet reign a queen Above this land of Corinth. I have said.

Nikias.

Well said.

Ægeus.

But none the better that ’twas false.

Nikias.

I’d sooner speak, for my part, fair than true. Mark Jason there ; how firm his lithe, straight limbs ; How high his gold‐curled head, crisped like a girl’s. page: 46 And yet for all his curled locks and smooth tones Jason is very strong. I never knew A man of such a strange and subtle strength.

Ægeus.

The Colchian speaks no word ; and her swart hands, Which waved, a moment since, and beat the air In mad entreaty, are together clasped Before her white robe in an iron clasp. And her wild eyes, which erst did seek the heav’ns, And now her lord and now again the earth, Are set on space and move not. The tall shape Stands there erect and still. This calm, I think, Is filled with strangest portent.

Nikias.

O ye gods, She is a pregnant horror as she stands.

Ægeus.

She speaks ; her voice sounds as a sound far off.

Medea.

As you have said, O Jason, let it be. page: 47 I for my part am nothing loth to break A compact never in fair justice framed, Seeing how much one gave and one how much. For you, you thought : This maid has served me well, And yet may serve me. When I touch her palm The blood is set a‐tingle in my veins ; For these things I will make her body mine. And I, I stood before you, clean and straight, A woman some deemed fair and all deemed wise ; A woman, yet no simple thing nor slight, By nature fashioned in no niggard mould ; And looked into your eyes with eyes that spake : Lo, utterly, for ever, I am yours. And since that you, this gift I lavish laid Low at your feet, have lightly held and spurned— I in my two arms, thus, shall gather it up So that your feet may not encounter it Which is not worthy for your feet to tread ! Yet pause a moment, Jason. Haply now In some such wise as this your thoughts run on : I loved this woman for a little space ; Alas, poor soul, she loved me but too well— It is the way with women ! Some, I think, Did deem her fierce ; gods ! she was meek enough, page: 48 Content with what I gave ; when I gave not Nothing importunate. Ah, Jason, pause. You never knew Medea. You forget, Because so long she bends the knee to you, She was not born to serfdom. I have knelt Too long before you. I have stood too long Suppliant before this people. You forget A redder stream flows in my Colchian veins Than the slow flood which courses round your hearts, O cold Corinthians, with whom I long have dwelt And never ere this day have known myself. Nor have ye known me. Now behold me free, Ungyved by any chains of this man wrought ; Nothing desiring at your hands nor his. Free, freer than the air or wingèd birds ; Strong, stronger than the blast of wintry storms ; And lifted up into an awful realm Where is nor love, nor pity, nor remorse, Nor dread, but only purpose. There shall be A horror and a horror in this land ; Woe upon woe, red blood and biting flame ; page: 49 Most horrid death and anguish worse than death ; Deeds that shall make the shores of Hades sound With murmured terror ; with an awful dread Shall move the generations yet unborn ; A horror and a horror in the land.

Jason.

Shrew, triple‐linked with Hell, get you within. Shame not my house ! ’Tis your own harm you work.
[Medea goes within. Jason moves off slowly. Ægeus and Nikias go off conferring in whispers.]
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