Medea美狄亚（欧里庇得斯Euripides)

Euripides
Medea

Nurse: a servant of Medea.
Tutor: a servant assigned to Jason's children.
Medea: wife of Jason.
Chorus: a group of Corinthian women.
Creon: king of Corinth.
Jason: husband of Medea.
Aegeus: king of Athens.
Messenger: a servant of Jason's.
Children: Medea's and Jason's two young sons.
Attendants on Creon and Jason.

NURSE
      Oh how I wish that ship the Argo
      had never sailed off to the land of Colchis,
      past the Symplegades, those dark dancing rocks
      which smash boats sailing through the Hellespont.
      I wish they'd never chopped the pine trees down
      in those mountain forests up on Pelion,
      to make oars for the hands of those great men
      who set off, on Pelias' orders,
      to fetch the golden fleece. Then my mistress,
      Medea, never would've sailed away                                              10
      to the towers in the land of Iolcus,
      her heart passionately in love with Jason.
      She'd never have convinced those women,
      Pelias' daughters, to kill their father.
      She'd not have come to live in Corinth here,                                       [10]
      with her husband and her children—well loved
      in exile by those whose land she'd moved to.
      She gave all sorts of help to Jason.
      That's when life is most secure and safe,
      when woman and her husband stand as one.                                20
      But that marriage changed. Now they're enemies.
      Their fine love's grown sick, diseased, for Jason,
      leaving his own children and my mistress,
      is lying on a royal wedding bed.
      He's married the daughter of king Creon,
      who rules this country. As for Medea,
      that poor lady, in her disgrace, cries out,                                              [20]
      repeating his oaths, recalling the great trust
      in that right hand with which he pledged his love.
      She calls out to the gods to witness                                              30
      how Jason is repaying her favours.
      She just lies there. She won't eat—her body
      she surrenders to the pain, wasting away,
      always in tears, ever since she found out
      how her husband has dishonoured her.
      She's not lifted her eyes up from the ground,
      or raised her head. She listens to advice,
      even from friends, as if she were a stone,
      or the ocean swell, except now and then
      she twists that white neck of hers and weeps,                              40    [30]
      crying to herself for her dear father, her home,
      her own land, all those things she left behind,
      to come here with the man who now discards her.
      Her suffering has taught her the advantages
      of not being cut off from one's own homeland.
      Now she hates her children. When she sees them,
      there is no joy in her. And I'm afraid
      she may be up to some new mischief.
      Her mind thinks in extremes. I know her well.
      She'll not put up with being treated badly.                                   50
      I worry she may pick up a sharp sword
      and stab her stomach, or else she'll go                                                 [40]
      into the house, in silence, to that bed,
      and kill the king and bridegroom Jason.
      Then she'll face an even worse disaster.
      She's a dangerous woman. It won't be easy
      for any man who picks a fight with her
      to think she's beaten and he's triumphed.

[Enter Medea's and Jason's children with their Tutor]

      Here come her children. They've finished playing.
      They've no notion of their mother's troubles.                               60
      Young minds don't like to dwell on pain.

TUTOR
      Old slave from my mistress' household,
      why are you here, standing by the gate,                                               [50]
      all alone, complaining to yourself
      about what's wrong? How come Medea
      is willing to stay inside without you?

NURSE
      Old servant of Jason's children,
      when a master's lot falls out badly,
      that's bad for faithful servants, too—
      it touches their hearts also. My sorrow                                         70
      was so great, I wanted to come here,
      to speak to earth and heaven, to tell them
      about the wrongs inflicted on my mistress.

TUTOR
      Unhappy lady! Has she stopped weeping yet?

NURSE
      Stopped crying? I envy your ignorance.                                                [60]
      Her suffering has only just begun—
      she's not even half way through it.

TUTOR
                                                           Poor fool—
      if I can speak that way about my masters—
      she knows nothing of her latest troubles.

NURSE
      What's that, old man? Don't spare me the news.                          80

TUTOR
      Nothing. I'm sorry I said anything.

NURSE
      Come on, don't hide it from a fellow slave.
      I can keep quiet if I have to.

TUTOR
      Well, I was passing by those benches
      where the old men gamble by Peirene,
      at the holy spring, and I heard someone say
      (I was pretending I wasn't listening)
      that Creon, king of this country, intends
      to ship the children away from Corinth,                                               [70]
      with their mother, too. I've no idea                                               90
      if the story's true or not. I hope it's not.

NURSE
      But surely Jason wouldn't let his children
      go into exile, even if he's squabbling
      with their mother?

TUTOR
                                          Old devotions fade,
      pushed aside by new relationships.
      Jason is no friend of people in this house.

NURSE
      If we must add these brand-new troubles
      to our old ones, before we've dealt with them,
      then we're finished.

TUTOR
                                          But listen—the time's not right                100    [80]
      to let your mistress know about these things.
      So keep quiet. Don't mention anything.

NURSE
      Children, do you hear what sort of man
      your father is to you? My curse on him!
      No. He is my master—but a bad man
      to his own family. Of that he's guilty.

TUTOR
      What mortal man is not? Don't you know yet
      all men love themselves more than their neighbours.
      And some are right to do that—while others
      just want some benefit. But this father,                                        110
      with his new wife, has no love for his children.

NURSE
      Come on, children, get inside the house.
      Things will be fine.[To the Tutor]You must keep them away—          [90]
      as far as possible—and don't bring them
      near their mother when she's in this state.
      I've seen her look at them with savage eyes,
      as if she means to injure them somehow. 
      I know this anger of hers will not end,
      not before she turns it loose on someone. 
      I hope it falls on enemies, not on friends!                                    120

MEDEA[crying from inside the house]
      I can't stand this pain, this misery.
      What do I do? I wish I could die!

NURSE
      My dear children, you hear your mother's cry.
      Her heart's upset. Her anger's growing, too.
      So quickly now, run off inside the house.                                            [100]
      Stay out of sight. Don't try to go and see her.
      She's fierce, headstrong by nature. Take care.
      So go now—inside as quickly as you can.

[The Tutor and children enter the house]

      It's obvious the cloud of bitter grief
      rising inside her is only just the start.                                           130
      As her temper grows even more intense,
      it will soon catch fire.  She's a passionate soul,
      hard to restrain. What will she do next,
      now her heart's been bitten by these injuries?                                      [110]

MEDEA[from inside the house]
      The pain of this suffering—this intense pain.
      Am I not right to weep? Oh my children,
      cursed children of a hateful mother—
      may you die with your father, all his house,
      may it all perish, crash down in ruins.

NURSE
      Oh the sorrow of it all. Poor woman!                                           140
      Why link your children with the nasty things
      their father's done? Why do you hate them so?
      I'm terrified the children will be hurt.
      The pride of rulers is something to fear—
      they often order men, but seldom listen.                                             [120]
      And when their tempers change it's hard to bear.
      It's better to get used to living life
      as an equal common person. Anyway,
      I don't want a grand life for myself—
      just to grow old with some security.                                             150
      They say a moderate life's the best of all,
      a far better choice for mortal men.
      Going for too much brings no benefits.
      And when gods get angry with some home,
      the more wealth it has, the more it is destroyed.                                  [130]

[Enter the Chorus of Corinthian women]

CHORUS LEADER
      I heard her voice, I heard the cries
      of that sad lady here from Colchis.
      Has she not calmed down yet? Old nurse, tell me.
      I heard from some household servant in there
      that she's been screaming. I find no pleasure                                160
      in this house's suffering. We've been friends.

NURSE
      This house is finished—already done for.
      For Jason's bound by his new marriage tie                                           [140]
      to the king's daughter. As for my mistress,
      her tears are washing away her life in there,
      inside the house. She finds no consolation
      in the words of any of her friends.

MEDEA[still from inside the house]
      Oh why can't a bolt of lightning strike me?
      What point is there in living any more?
      I want death to come and sweep me off—                                   170
      let me escape this life of suffering!

CHORUS
      Oh Zeus and Earth and Sun—
      do you hear how this young wife
      sings out her misery?                                                                            [150]
      Thoughtless lady,
      why long for death's marriage bed
      which human beings all shun?
      Death comes soon enough
      and brings and end to everything.
      You should not pray for it.                                                           180
      And if your husband
      devotes himself to some new bed,
      why get angry over that?
      Zeus will plead for you in this.
      Don't waste your life away,
      with too much wailing for your husband.

MEDEA[within] 
      O great Themis and noble Artemis,                                                    [160]
      do you see what I am having to endure,
      when I'm the one who bound that cursed man,
      my husband, with strong promises to me?                                    190
      Oh, how I want to see him and his bride
      beaten down, destroyed—their whole house as well—
      for these wrongs they dare inflict on me,
      when I've done nothing to provoke them!
      O father and city, I left you behind
      in my disgrace when I killed my brother.

NURSE
      Do you hear what's she's saying, how she calls
      to Themis, who hears our prayers, and Zeus,
      who guards, they say, the promises men swear.                                   [170]
      She's bound to do something quite serious                                  200
      before this rage of hers comes to an end.

CHORUS LEADER
      I wish she'd let us see her face to face
      and listen to what we have to tell her.
      That might calm down her savage temper,
      the fury in her heart. I'd like the chance
      to show good will to a lady whom I like.
      Go now—bring her here outside the house.                                         [180]
      Tell her she'll be among some friends of hers.
      And hurry, before she harms someone in there—
      that power in her grief will make her act.                                     210

NURSE
      All right, though I'm afraid I won't persuade
      my mistress. Still, as a favour to you,
      I'll see what I can do. Right now she glares
      at servants when they come close to her
      to tell her something. She's like a bull,
      or lioness with cubs—that's how she looks.
      Those men from long ago—you'd not be wrong                                  [190]
      to call them fools without much wisdom.
      They thought up songs for celebrations,
      feasts and banquets, bringing to human life                                  220
      delightful music. But they found nothing
      in music or the lyre's many strings
      to end the bitterness of human life,
      the pain in living, sorrows bringing on
      the deaths and horrifying disasters
      which destroy whole families. What a blessing
      it would be for human beings if music
      could cure these sorrows. When people feast,                                     [200]
      why should people sing? It's a waste of time.
      People who eat well are happy anyway—                                     230
      they've enjoyed the pleasure of the meal.

[Nurse exits into the house]

CHORUS
      I have heard Medea's crying,
      full of sorrow, full of tears,
      her shrill accusations against Jason,
      the husband who's betrayed her.
      Suffering such injustice, she cries out,
      calling the gods—calling Themis,
      Zeus' daughter, goddess of those promises
      which carried her across the ocean
      to Hellas, through the black salt seas,                                           240   [210]
      through the place which few men penetrate,
      the strait which guards the Pontic Sea.

[Enter Medea with the Nurse]

MEDEA
      Women of Corinth, I'm coming here,
      outside the house, so you won't think ill of me.
      Many men, I know, become too arrogant,
      both in the public eye and in their homes.
      Others get a reputation for indifference,
      because they stay at ease within the house.
      There's no justice in the eyes of mortal men.
      Before they know someone's deep character,                               250    [220]
      they hate her on sight, though she's not hurt them.
      A guest of the city must comply, of course,
      act as the city wants. I don't commend
      a stubborn man, not even a citizen,
      who thanks to his stupidity annoys
      his fellow townsmen. But in my case,
      this unexpected blow that's hit me,
      well, it's destroyed my heart. My life is gone,
      dear friends. I've lost all joy. I want to die.
      The man who was everything to me,                                            260
      my own husband, has turned out to be
      the worst of men. This I know is true.
      Of all things with life and understanding,                                            [230]
      we women are the most unfortunate.
      First, we need a husband, someone we get
      for an excessive price. He then becomes
      the ruler of our bodies. And this misfortune
      adds still more troubles to the grief we have.
      Then comes the crucial struggle: this husband
      we've selected, is he good or bad?                                                270
      For a divorce loses women all respect,
      yet we can't refuse to take a husband.
      Then, when she goes into her husband's home,
      with its new rules and different customs,
      she needs a prophet's skill to sort out the man
      whose bed she shares. She can't learn that at home.                            [240]
      Once we've worked hard at this, and with success,
      our husband accepts the marriage yoke
      and lives in peace—an enviable life.
      But if the marriage doesn't work, then death                                280
      is much to be preferred. When the man tires
      of the company he keeps at home, he leaves,
      seeking relief for his distress elsewhere,
      outside the home. He gets his satisfaction
      with some male friend or someone his own age.
      We women have to look at just one man.
      Men tell us we live safe and secure at home,
      while they must go to battle with their spears.
      How stupid they are! I'd rather stand there
      three times in battle holding up my shield                                    290    [250]
      than give birth once. But your story and mine
      are not the same. For you have a city,
      you have your father's house, enjoy your life
      with friends for company. But I'm alone.
      I have no city, and I'm being abused
      by my own husband. I was carried off,
      a trophy from a barbarian country.
      I have no mother, brother, or relation,
      to shelter with in this extremity.
      And so I want to ask something from you.                                   300
      If I find some way to punish Jason                                                      [260]
      for these injustices, and his bride, as well,
      and father, too, say nothing. In other things
      a woman may be timid—in watching battles
      or seeing steel, but when she's hurt in love,
      her marriage violated, there's no heart
      more desperate for blood than hers.

CHORUS LEADER
      I'll do what you request. For you are right
      to pay back your husband. And, Medea,
      I'm not surprised you grieve at these events.                                310

[Enter Creon, with armed attendants]

      I see Creon, king of Corinth, coming.
      He'll be bringing news, announcing
      some new decision that's been made.                                                  [270]

CREON
      You there, Medea, scowling in anger
      against your husband. I'm ordering you
      out of Corinth. You must go into exile,
      and take those two children of yours with you.
      Go quickly. I'm here to make quite sure
      that this decree is put into effect.
      I'll not go back to my own palace                                                 320
      until I've cast you out, beyond our borders.

MEDEA
      Oh, now my sufferings will kill me. It's over.
      My enemies have set full sail against me,
      and there's no way I can avert disaster.
      But, Creon, let me ask you something—                                             [280]
      I'm the one abused, so why banish me?
      What have I done?

CREON
                                                      I'm afraid of you.
      I won't conceal the truth. There's a good chance
      you might well instigate some fatal harm
      against my daughter. Many things lead me                                   330
      to this conclusion: you're a clever woman,
      very experienced in evil ways;
      you're grieving the loss of your husband's bed;
      and from reports I hear you're making threats
      to take revenge on Jason, on his bride,
      and on her father. Before that happens,
      I'm taking some precautions. Woman,                                                 [290]
      it's better that you hate me, than for me
      to grow soft now and then regret it later.

MEDEA
      Alas, this is not the first time, Creon,                                           340
      my reputation has badly damaged me.
      It's happened often. No man with any sense
      should ever educate his children
      to know anything beyond what's normal.
      Quite apart from charges of idleness
      which other people bring against them,
      they stir up in their fellow citizens
      a hostile envy. If you offer fools
      some brand new wisdom, they'll consider you
      quite useless, not someone wise. And if,                                      350     [300]
      within the city, people think of you
      as greater than those men who seem quite wise,
      you'll appear a nuisance. So it is with me.
      For I'm a knowledgeable woman. I make
      some people envious. Others say I'm shy.
      Some the opposite. Some say I'm hostile.
      I'm not that clever, but still you fear me.
      Have I hurt you at all, made you suffer?
      Don't fear me, Creon. It's not in me
      to commit crimes against the men in charge.                                360
      Besides, in what way have you injured me?
      You've married your daughter to a man,
      one your heart selected. My husband's                                                [310]
      the one I hate. In my view, you've acted
      with good sense in this business. So now,
      I'll not begrudge you your prosperity.
      Have your marriage, and good luck to you.
      But let me remain here, in this country.
      Although I've suffered an injustice,
      I'll obey the rulers and stay silent.                                                 370

CREON
      What you say sounds comforting enough,
      but I'm still afraid that heart of yours
      is planning something evil. At this point,
      I trust you even less than previously.
      Passionate people, women as well as men,
      are easier to protect oneself against,                                                    [320]
      than someone clever who keeps silent.
      No. You must leave—and right away.
      No more speeches. I've made up my mind.
      It's not possible for you to stay here,                                            380
      not with us, given your hostility to me.

MEDEA[kneeling in front of Creon]
      No, don't send me away. I'm begging you,
      at your knee, in your daughter's name.

CREON
      Your words are useless. You won't persuade me.

MEDEA
      You'll send me into exile without hearing
      my supplication?

CREON
                                                      Indeed I will.
      I don't love you more than my own family.

MEDEA
      O my homeland! How I'm thinking of you now.

CREON
      Except for my own children, my country
      is what I cherish most by far.

MEDEA
                                                                        Alas,                           390
      love's a miserable thing for mortal men.                                               [330]

CREON
      I think events determine if that's true.

MEDEA
      O Zeus, don't overlook who bears the blame
      for all this evil.

CREON
                                          It's time to leave,
      you foolish woman. Time to rid myself
      of all this trouble.

MEDEA
                              We have trouble enough—
      There's no need for any more.

CREON
                                                      Come on—
      or my servants will throw you into exile.

MEDEA
      No, don't do that. I beg you, Creon . . .

[Medea seizes Creon's hand]

CREON
      Woman, it seems you're trying to provoke me.                             400

MEDEA
      All right then. I will go into exile.
      I wasn't begging to escape from that.

CREON
      Then why squeeze my hand so hard and not let go?

MEDEA
      Let me remain here one day to prepare,                                               [340]
      to get ready for my exile, to provide
      something for my children, since their father,
      as one more insult, does nothing for them.
      Have pity on them. You're a parent, too.
      You should treat them kindly—that's what's right.
      If I go into exile, I don't care,                                                       410
      but I weep for them in their misfortune.

CREON
      For a tyrant my will is by nature tender,
      and by feeling pity I've been hurt before,
      more than once. And now, woman, I see
      I'm making a mistake, for you can have                                               [350]
      your extra day. But let me warn you—
      if the sun catches you tomorrow
      within the borders of this country,
      you or your children, you'll be put to death.
      Don't think I'm not telling you the truth.                                     420
      So, if you must remain, stay one more day.
      In that time you can't do the harm I fear.

[Exit Creon with his attendants]

CHORUS LEADER
      Alas for you, unfortunate woman—
      how wretched your distress. Where will you turn? 
      Where will you find someone to take you in? 
      What country, what home will you find yourself
      to save you from misfortunes?                                                             [360]

MEDEA
      Things have worked out badly in every way.
      Who can deny the fact? But nonetheless,
      you should not assume that's how things will stay.                      430
      The newly wedded pair still face some struggles,
      and the man who made this marriage happen
      might have serious problems yet. Do you think
      I'd prostrate myself before a man like that,
      if there was no advantage to be gained?
      If I didn't have some plan in mind,
      I'd not have talked to him or grabbed his hand.                                   [370]
      But the man's become completely foolish—
      when he had the power to prevent me
      from planning anything, by sending me                                        440
      out of his land, he let me stay one day,
      a day when I'll turn three of my enemies
      to corpses—father, daughter, and my husband.
      Now, I can slaughter them in many ways.
      I'm not sure which one to try out first.
      Perhaps I should set the bridal suite on fire,
      or sneak into the house in silence,
      right up to their marriage bed, and plunge                                           [380]
      some sharpened steel right through their guts.
      There's just one problem. If I get caught                                      450
      going in their house, meaning to destroy it,
      I'll be killed, and my enemies will laugh.
      No. The best method is the most direct,
      the one at which I have a special skill—
      I'll murder them with poison. Yes, that's it.
      But once they're dead, what city will receive me?
      Who'll give me safe shelter as a guest,
      and offer me physical protection?
      There's no one. Still, I'll wait a little while.
      If someone shows up who can shield me,                                     460   [390]
      I'll set my scheme in motion and kill them
      without saying a word. But if events
      force me to act openly, I'll use a sword.
      Even though it will bring about my death,
      I'll push my daring to the very limit
      and slaughter them. By Hecate, the goddess
      I worship more than all the others,
      the one I choose to help me in this work,
      who lives with me deep inside my home,
      these people won't bring pain into my heart                                 470
      and laugh about it. This wedding of theirs,
      I'll make it hateful for them, a disaster—
      Creon's marriage ties, my exile from here,                                            [400]
      he'll find those bitter. So come, Medea,
      call on all those things you know so well,
      as you plan this and set it up. Let the work,
      this deadly business, start. It's a test of wills.
      You see what you have to put up with.
      You must not let Jason's marriage make you
      a laughing stock among Corinthians,                                            480
      compatriots of Sisyphus, for you
      trace your family from a noble father
      and from Helios, the sun. So get to work.
      Besides, we have a woman's nature—
      powerless to perform. fine noble deeds,
      but very skilled in all the forms of evil.

CHORUS[chanting]
      The waters in the sacred rivers                                                            [410]
      are flowing in reverse.
      And all well-ordered things
      are once more turning on themselves.                                          490
      Men's plans are now deceitful,
      their firm trust in the gods is gone.
      My life is changing—common talk
      is giving me a better reputation.
      Honour's coming to the female sex.
      Slander will no longer injure women.                                                   [420]

      Those songs by ancient poets
      will stop chanting of our faithlessness.
      Phoebus, god of song and singing,
      never put into our minds the gift                                                  500
      of making sacred music with the lyre,
      or else I would have sung a song
      in response to what the male sex sings.
      For our lengthy past has much to say
      about men's lives as well as ours         &n