MEDEA

I can by Art make rivers retrograde, Altar their channels, run back to their heads, And hide them in the springs from whence they grew. The curled Ocean with a word Il'e smooth, (Or being calm) raise waves as high as hills, Threatening to swallow the vast continent. With powerful charms Il'e make the Sun stand still, Or call the Moon down from her arched sphere. What cannot I by power of Hecate? Let Absyrtus know, Phrixus the son of Theban Athamas, And his fair sister Hells, being betrayed By their cursed stepdame , fled from Greece, Their Innocence pitied by Mercury, He gave to them a golden-fleeced Ram, Which boar them safe to the Syg and sea, Which swimming, beauteous Hells there was drowned, And gave that sea the name of Hellespont, That which parts Sestus and Abidos still: Phrixus arrives at Colchos, and to Mars There sacrificed his Ram in memory Of his safe waftage, favoured by the Gods. The golden Fleece was by the Oracle Commanded to be fixed there, kept and guarded By two fierce Bulls, that breath insernall fires, And by a wakeful Dragon, in whose eyes Never came sleep: for in the safe conserving Of this divine and worthy monument, Our kingdoms weal and safety most consists. Such a bold spirit, and noble presence linked, Never before were seen in Phasis Isle, Colchos be proud, a Prince demands thy Fleece, Richer then that he comes for; let the Greeks Our Phasian wealth and Oetes treasure bear, So they in lieu will leave me Jason here. May all enchantments be confined to hell, Rather then he encounter fiends so fell. If he attempts he die, what's that to me? Why should Medea fear a strangers life? Or what's that Jason I should dread his fallen? If , my father's glory wains, And all our Fortune's must reward his pains. Let lason perish then, and Colchos flourish. Our pristine glories let us still enjoy, And these our brass-head bulls the Prince destroy. O! what distraction's this within me bred, Although he die, I would not see him dead? The best I see, the worst I follow still, He never wronged me, why should I wish him ill? Shall the Bulls toss him whom Medea loves, A Tygresse, not a Princess, should I prove? To see him tortured whom I dearly love? Be then a torteresse to thy father's life, A robber of the climb where thou wast bred, And for some straggler that hath lost his way, Thy father's Kingdom and his State betray. Tush, these are nothing, first his faith I'll crave, That covenant made, him by enchantments save Shall I overwhelm upon my captive head, The curse of all our Nation, the Crowns ruin? Clamours of men, and women's loud exclaims. Burnings of children; the universal curse Of a great people, all to save one man, A straggler (God knows whence derived, where born, Or hither where Noble? let the proud Greek die, We still in Colchos fit instated hie O me! that look upon Medea cast Drowns all these fears, and hath the rest surpassed. His presence without all this Oratory Did much with us, but where they both conjoin To entrap Medea, she must needs be caught. That tongue more then Medea's spells inchants, And not a word, but Like our exoreismes And power of charms prevails, O lone! thy Majesty Is greater then the triple Hecates, Bewitching Circe's, or these hidden skills, Ascribed unto infernal Proserpine. I that by incantations can remove Hills from their sits, and make huge mountains shake, Darken the Sun at noon, call from their graves Ghosts long since dead, that can command the earth, And affright heaven, no spell at all can find To bondage love, or free a captive mind. A match, what herbs or spells, what Magic can Command in heaven, earth, or in hell below, What either air, or sea can minister, To guard thy person, all these helps I'll gather To girdle thee with saf ty. Which I'll make good With Colchos fallen, and with my father's blood. No word you saw us two in conference. The night grows on, and now to my black Arts, Goddess of witchcraft and dark ceremony, To whom the elves of Hills, of Brooks, of Groves, Of standing Lake's, and caverns vaulted deep Are ministers; three-headed Hecate Lend me thy Chariot drawn with winged snakes, For I this night must progress through the Air. What simples grow in Tempe of Thessaly, Mount Pindus, Ortheris, Ossa, Appida , Olympus, Caucas. or high Teneriff. I must select to finish this great work, Thence must I fly unto Amphrisus Fords, And gather plants by the swift Sperchius streams, Where rushy Bebes, and Anthedon flow, Where herbs of bitter juice and strong sent grow; These must I with the hairs of Mandrakes use, Temper with Poppy-seeds and H lock juice: With Aconitum that in Tartar springs, With Cypress, E , and Vervin, and these mix With Incantations, Spells, and Of wondrous power and virtue; o thou night, Mother of dark Arts hide me in thy veil, While I those banks search, and these mountains scale. The hidden power of Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Shall from this place to Jasons help conspire. Fire withstand fire, and magic temper flame, By my strong spells the savage monster's tame: So, that's performed, now take the Vipers teeth And sow them in the furrowed field of Mars. Of which strange seed, men ready armed must grow To assault Jason. Already from beneath Their deadly pointed weapons gin to appear, And now their heads, thus moulded in the earth, Straight way shall teem; and having fr ed their fate (The stalks by which they grow) all violently Pursue the valiant Greek, but by my sorcery I'll turn their armed points against themselves And all these slaves that would on Jason fly Shall wound themselves and by sedition die. Yet thrives the Greek, now kill the sleeping snake Which I have charmed, and thence the Trophy take, These shouts witness his conquest, I'll descend, Hear Jasons fears and all my charms take end. Jason with his Argonauts this night must perish, the fleece not be tram ̄ sported to Greece—Medea, your assistance. This is my father's plot to overthrow Prince Jason, and the noble Argonauts, Which Il'e prevent: I know the King is sudden, And if prevention be delayed, they die: I that have ventured thus far for a love, Even to these arts that Nature would have hid As dangerous and forbidden, shall I now Undo what I have done, through womanish fear, Paternal duty, or for filial love? No Jason, thou art mine, and my desire, Shall wade with thee through blood, through seas, through fire. My Lord, I know what you would say, Think now upon your life, the King my father Intends your ruin, to redeem the fleece, And it repurchase with your tragic death's: Therefore assemble all your Argonauts, And let them (in the silence of the night) Launch from the Colchian harbour; Il'e associate you As Jasons bride. Then fly, Il'e send to see your Argoe trimmed, Rig'd and made tied: night comes, the time grows on: High then aboard. Now populous Greece, Thank us (not Jason ) for this conquered fleece. Should he survive, you might be held unworthy The name of King; my hand shall be as deep As yours in his destruction. Il'e second you, And laue my stained hands in their reeking bloods That practice your dishonour. But ere the least of all these ils betide, This Colchian strand shall with thy blood be died. For Jason and his Argonauts I stand, And will protect them with my art and hand. Leave circumstance, away, Hoist up your sails, death and destruction Attends you on the shore. Instantly: Blow gentle gales, assist them winds and tide, That I may Greece see, & live Jasons bride. O happy met, though it be late Absyrtus, You must along with me. Il'e tell you as we walk. This lad between me and all harm shall stand; And if the King pursue us with his Fleet, His mangled limbs shall (scattered in the way) Work our escape, and the Kings speed delay. Come brother.