Looking at Medea

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Looking at Medea Page 23

by David Stuttard


  Her friends try talking to her, but she’s like a stone, a rolling sea-wave, unresponsive. She only turns her ghost-white face away and groans for her dear father and her home, her native land, all she betrayed to come away with Jason, who has now humiliated and dishonoured her. And in her suffering she knows, poor woman, just how sweet a thing it is never to leave your native land.

  She takes no pleasure now in seeing her sons. No. She resents them. I’m frightened that she may be plotting some new terrifying revenge. Her mind is dangerous. She won’t put up with such outrageous treatment. Yes. I know her, and she frightens me.

  I hope she doesn’t take a dagger, razor-sharp, and creep inside his house in silence, find his bed, and skewer his liver, kill his new bride, kill the king, and so bring greater tragedy upon us. Yes. She is awesome, frightening. No-one who crosses her will come out of it easily, unscarred, victorious.

  But here are her sons now. They’ve been out at their sports, their running. They don’t know anything about their mother’s troubles. Young minds like theirs are free from worries!

  Tutor You’ve been in my mistress’ possession as her house-slave for a long time now. What are you doing out here, alone, just loitering by the gates, while she’s all by herself, distraught with all her worries? Why? Does Medea want to be left alone?

  Nurse You’re a respected and experienced old man. Well! Jason’s chosen you to look after his sons! The troubles, that befall our masters, fall hard on faithful slaves. And they distress us. I was getting so upset. I had this overwhelming urge to come out here and tell the very earth and heaven of all my lady’s suffering.

  Tutor So the poor thing’s not stopped crying yet?

  Nurse I wish I was you sometimes! This trouble’s just begun. It’s nowhere near being over yet.

  Tutor With all respect (she is my mistress), but she doesn’t understand. She has no inkling of the latest blow she’ll have to bear.

  Nurse What is it? Tell me. Don’t keep it from me!

  Tutor Nothing! No! Forget I spoke.

  Nurse By all that’s holy! Don’t keep a secret from a fellow slave! I won’t tell anyone! I’ll keep quiet if I have to!

  Tutor I heard someone talking – oh! he didn’t know I was listening! I was going to play backgammon, where the old men sit around the sacred waters of Peirene. This man said King Creon means to exile these boys here with their mother from the land of Corinth. But if the rumour’s true or not, I do not know.

  Nurse Jason has his quarrels with their mother, I know that – but will he let his sons be treated in that way?

  Tutor Old ties and old relationships have given way to new. Jason is no friend to this household.

  Nurse Then we are lost completely – if this new disaster’s added to the old. The situation as it was before was bleak enough.

  Tutor Wait! Listen to me! Now’s not the time to tell our mistress. No! Stay calm. Say nothing.

  Nurse My children! Do you hear how your father treats you? I wish he was dead! No! He is my master. But he’s proved so cruel and thankless to his family and friends.

  Tutor He’s human. Who’d not do the same? You must have realized by now that everyone cares for themselves more than for their family and friends – some for good reason, others looking to the main chance – and that is why another woman’s bed has made their father cease to love his children.

  Nurse Go on, children – into the house. It’ll be alright.

  (To Tutor) Do what you can to keep them away from her. Don’t take them to their mother in her present mood. I saw her just a little while ago, staring at them full of hate, smouldering like a bull, as if they were to blame. I know well enough her fury will not cease until she’s found some victim, swooped and made her kill. I hope her gaze falls on her enemies and not her family and friends.

  Medea (Sobbing) Poor lost Medea! The sorrows! The misery! I wish I were dead!

  Nurse My boys, my darlings, that’s what I meant! Your mother lashes her heart, lashes her anger. Hurry, quickly – go inside the house! And don’t let your mother see you! Don’t go near her! Be on guard against her savage temper and her single-minded all-consuming hatred. Go now – as quickly as you can – inside!

  I know this shouting’s just a prelude, which her fury will soon fan like some small cloud, that boils and bellies till it breaks in thunder. Her anger’s bursting. She can’t be stopped. Her very spirit has been battered by such suffering – what will she do?

  Medea (Screaming) Look what they’ve done to me! Look what he’s done to me! Misery! Pain! Oh! I curse you, my children! Yes! I wish that you would die with my hatred, your mother’s, you and your father! And let all the household crash down to ruin!

  Nurse Oh, my mistress, so ill-used and yet so cruel! What have your boys to do with the sins of their father? Why do you hate them? My poor, poor children! I am so worried something will happen to you.

  Those who hold power have savage, terrifying tempers. Perhaps it is because they get their way so much and are so rarely checked their moods, their angers swing so harshly. I think it’s better to lead your life from day to day with those of your own status. As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather have just what I need and grow old gracefully.

  Parodos

  Chorus I heard a voice! I heard her screaming! Poor Medea, so far from her homeland! Has her anger not subsided yet? No! Tell me, old woman! In the inner courtyard with its double gates, I heard her screaming. This house’s troubles trouble me. Tell me, dear lady! Tell me what has happened!

  Nurse Our house exists no longer. It is already rubble. A royal bedding’s got him now, and she, my mistress, in her chamber dissolves her life in tears, and not one of her friends or all her household can comfort her in anything we say.

  Medea (Screaming) The fire from heaven’s shooting through my head! Why should I go on living? I wish that I could find some peace in death, some solace from this hateful life!

  Chorus Did you hear? O Zeus and earth and sunlight, did you hear the scream, so eerie, terrifying? Did you hear the poor lost bride?

  O, Medea, in your madness, what lust is this for death’s cruel stony bed? She will hasten her own end, her death.

  Don’t speak of that! If your own husband worshipped a new woman and her sex, you’d know what she is suffering. Don’t let it be a mortal wound! Zeus himself will join with you to bring you justice. No! Don’t grieve unnaturally, too much, don’t weep too much for him, your husband!

  Medea O, Themis, mighty, everlasting, and you, my Lady, Artemis, see how I suffer, bound, united by such mighty oaths to him, my husband, cursed and damned. I wish that I could see him and his bride and his whole house torn up by their roots, for daring so to wrong me in my innocence! My father and my city! I left you in such shame, my brother’s murderess!

  Nurse Do you hear what she says, how she calls on Themis, the Protectress of Promises, and Zeus, whom all men hold the guardian of oaths? My lady’s anger is so great – she won’t recover quickly.

  Chorus If only she would come where we could see her, let us talk to her and answer all she says in all her stubbornness. If only she would put aside this passion which has gripped her mind, this seething anger deep inside her heart. I wish that I could always show my care to friends and family. Go in to her and bring her out. Dear lady, if you dare, go! Hurry now before she does some harm to those inside. Her grief is so distressing!

  Nurse Yes, I shall go. But I fear that I shall not persuade my mistress. It is a heavy task you lay upon me, but I shall do it. And yet, whenever any of us tries to talk to her or comes within her sight, she glares at us, her house-slaves, like a bull or baneful lioness protecting new-born cubs.

  You would not be mistaken if you said our ancestors were feeble-minded, yes, not wise at all – they wrote their songs to sing at parties or at feasts or banquets, charming tunes to tease the ear, but no-one found a harmony, a gentle soft-stringed lullaby to soothe away the hates and miseries of men, the seeds of death and dreadful acci
dent that cause whole households to come crashing down in total ruin. And yet to cure evils such as these with music – what profit that would bring to all mankind! For when they’ve eaten well, when they’re replete, relaxed, what need have men for useless songs and taut-tuned melodies? The very feeling of repletion that a good meal brings is joy enough!

  Chorus I heard her screaming, weeping uncontrolled, and groaning, crying in her distress and calling on the man who has betrayed her bed, her faithless husband. And in the midst of all her sufferings and such injustice, she is crying to the gods, to Themis, child of Zeus, protectress of oaths, who brought here beyond the seas to Greece, slicing through the dark night waves, toward the heaving narrows, which unlock the vast Black Sea.

  Episode 1

  Medea Women of Corinth, I have come outside because I don’t wish you to blame me. I know that there are many who are haughty and aloof, some plainly so, because we see them, others who acquire bad reputation just because they stay inside and do not mix, because they’re quiet. There is no Justice in the eyes of men, who hate another just from seeing him, unprovoked, before they’ve taken proper time to get to know his inner heart. A foreigner should do his best to fit in to a city, and I can’t condone a citizen who through insensitivity brings bitterness and misery to fellow townfolks’ lives. But I …

  This business is so sudden, unexpected, crashing down on me and it’s broken my heart. It is all over for me. Life has no more happiness. My dear friends, I just want to die. You see, my husband was the world to me, how well he knows it! And now he’s proved himself to be the worst of men.

  Of everything that lives, all creatures sentient, we women are most abject of them all. We must first with an exchange of money buy a husband, pass control of our own bodies to his hands. And yet there is an ordeal still more bitter yet to come. For in this getting of a husband is the greatest lottery of all – will he be cruel or good? There are no ways a woman can divorce and keep her honour, and she can’t deny her husband. So she comes to a strange house, a whole new set of rules and expectations – and she needs to be clairvoyant, for she’s not learned this at home: how best she should break in her husband. And if in this great undertaking we succeed, so that our husband lives contentedly and does not fight against the reins, our life is to be envied. But if we fail, we’re better dead. A man can leave the house and find some new distraction when he’s had enough, whenever he grows bored or irritated with the company at home. But for us, necessity demands that we have eyes for just one man, our husband. They speak about us, say how safe and sound our lives are in our homes, while they go out to fight. How little these men know. I’d rather stand my ground three times in battle, in the shield-line, than endure the agonies of child-birth once.

  But the situation’s not the same for you and me. You have your city here, your fathers’ homes. You have life’s luxuries, companionship and friends. But I have no-one. I have no city, and my husband treats me shamefully. He took me from my home as plunder to a strange land and, in the face of all I’m suffering, I can’t weigh anchor and sail safe home to my mother or my brother or my family.

  So I would ask this one request of you: if I can find some way, some scheme by which I might exact some justice on my husband in return for all the wrongs he’s done to me – keep quiet. For in all else, a woman is consumed by fear, no mettle when it comes to facing force or steel. But when she has been slighted in her marriage and her sex, there is no force more murderous.

  Chorus I shall keep quiet. Medea, you are right to seek vengeance on your husband. Faced with such treatment, grief is natural. But I see King Creon coming with news of fresh decisions.

  Creon You, Medea, with your black looks and your bile against your husband – I give you this command: to go away, out of this land in exile, and take your two sons with you. Don’t put it off. I am your judge in this, and there is no appeal. I shall not leave or go back inside until I cast you out beyond the boundaries of my land.

  Medea (Gasping) I am lost completely! My enemies are spreading my sails full to catch the storm winds of destruction and there is no safe haven I can moor to ride my ruin. Creon, my persecutor, still I’ll ask you this: why will you banish me?

  Creon Because I fear you. That is my reason – I’ve no need to hide it. I am afraid of the harm you might do to my daughter. So many things conspire to make me fear. You are a clever woman, skilled in evil arts, and now you are no longer welcome in your husband’s bed, and so you have been wounded. I hear you’re making threats – that’s what they’re telling me. You’re threatening me, Jason and his bride. And so, before you carry out your threats, I shall ensure our safety. It is better for me to have you hate me now than weaken, lady, and then later, in the face of tragedy, regret.

  Medea This is not the first time, Creon, no, it happens all the time that men’s perceptions of me injure me and work great harm against me. No man who’s wise himself should have his children taught to be too clever. It’s just another useless trick, and earns the bitter envy of their fellow citizens. For if you offer fools a new philosophy, they mock you as a useless imbecile. And if you seem to have some subtle understanding stronger than those the city think are wise, they make you an outcast and a thing of scorn. This is the treatment I myself have known. Yes, I am clever, and, though my cleverness is not unusual, I’m either hated with cold jealousy or else I’m shunned.

  And so you fear me. Yet you’ve suffered nothing at my hands that jars with justice. Do not fear me. It’s not my nature to do any harm to royalty. What have you done to wrong me? You’ve merely wed your daughter to the man of your own choice. For me, I hate my husband, yes, but you, I think, have been throughout a gentleman. And now I bear no grudge against you. No, I wish you well. Make your marriage, and I wish them every happiness. But let me live here in this land. And though I’ve been ill-used, I shall keep quiet. Those who are stronger than I am have beaten me.

  Creon Your words have brought some comfort, yet I still fear your ill will, and so I trust you even less now than I did before. A woman, sharp with anger, or a man the same, is easier to guard against than one who’s quiet and clever. So get out now, and go, as quickly as you can, and no more words. My mind’s made up. You have no arguments to let you stay. I know you hate me.

  Medea No! By your pity! By your daughter, newly-married!

  Creon You’re wasting words. You won’t persuade me. Ever.

  Medea Have you no pity, no reverence for my prayers?

  Creon I love my family more than I do you.

  Medea My fatherland, my home, the memories I have!

  Creon Next to my children, my own land’s dearer to me than anything.

  Medea Man’s lusts can bring such evil!

  Creon Well that, I think, depends upon the circumstances.

  Medea Zeus! I pray your eye of Justice fixes Jason, architect of all my sufferings, for ever.

  Creon You empty, foolish woman, go! And don’t give me the trouble of expelling you.

  Medea The troubles that we have already are enough. We need no more.

  Creon My men will use force if they have to.

  Medea No! No! No need for that! No, Creon! No – I beg you, though …

  Creon I think you mean more trouble, lady.

  Medea No, I shall go. That is not why I’m supplicating you.

  Creon So why do you resist? Why will you not just go?

  Medea Let me stay this one last day and put my thoughts in order, think where to go and find some new beginning for my boys since their own father takes no interest in his children. Take pity on them. You are a father. You have children. My concerns are not for me, what I will do if we should go; my tears are all for them, their tragedy.

  Creon Though I’m a king, it’s not my nature to abuse my power, and often in the past my sense of fairness has not served me well. And now – although I can see clearly, lady, that it’s a mistake – yet, nonetheless, it shall be as you ask.

  But I give you this warnin
g. If Helios, the sun-god, rises with tomorrow’s dawn and sees you and your sons still here, within the boundaries of this land, you die. There. I have spoken, and it will be so. So now, if you must stay, stay for this one last day. You’ll not do anything so terrible that I need fear you.

  Chorus Poor lady! Your troubles are so bleak. Where will you turn? Who now will take you in, what house, what land, to be your saviour in the face of all your suffering? Some god has sent you out, all rudderless, upon the great sea-swell of sorrows, poor Medea.

  Medea My situation’s fraught with troubles on all sides. There’s no denying it. But don’t think the game is over yet. There are still conflicts, trials ahead for this new bride and groom, and no small troubles for their family. Do you think that I would ever fawn and flatter him like that, unless I had some plan in mind to bring me profit? I never could have brought myself to speak to him; I never would have touched him. But he has come to such a state of ‘empty foolishness’ that, though he could have exiled me this moment and destroyed my plans, he’s let me stay this one day in which I’ll turn three enemies to corpses: Creon and his daughter and my husband.

  Dear friends! I hold the secret of so many paths to lead them to their deaths! I do not know which first to try. Perhaps I shall engulf their bridal home in fire or stalk in silence to their room, where they have spread their soft warm bedding, and so plunge a knife as sharp as any razor in their liver – no! This one thought gives me pause: if they should take me stalking through their house, ravelling my plots against them, I shall die, and, dying, give my enemies a cause for gloating laughter. The strongest way’s the most direct, the way in which I am by nature most experienced – to poison them.

 

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