Racine: Phaedra

MEDEA 119
Enter the sons of Jason and Medea.
Take hold of his right hand. Ah me, how great
Are my afflictions oft as I revolve
A deed of darkness in my laboring soul
How long, alas ! my sons, are ye ordained
To live, how long to stretch forth those dear arms ?
how much am I disposed
Wretch that I am !
To weep ! how
subject to each fresh alarm
For I at length desisting from that strife.
Which with your sire I rashly did maintain,
Feel gushing tears bedew my tender cheek.
Chorus.—Fresh tears too from these eyes have forced their
way;
And may no greater ill than that which now
We suffer, overtake us
Jason.— I applaud
Your present conduct, and your former rage
Condemn not ; for 'tis natural that the race
Of women should be angry when their lord
For a new consort trucks them. But your heart
. Those
Is for the better changed, and you, though late,
At length acknowledge the resistless power
Of reason ; this is acting like a dame
Endued with prudence. But for you, my sons.
Abundant safety your considerate sire
Hath with the favor of the gods procured.
For ye, I trust, shall with my future race
Bear the first rank in this Corinthian realm,
Advance to full maturity ; the rest,
Aided by each benignant god, your father
Shall soon accomplish. Virtuously trained up
May I behold you at a riper age
Obtain pre-eminence o'er those I hate.
But, ha ! Why
with fresh tears do you thus keep
eyelids moist? From your averted cheeks
Why is the color fled, or why these words
Receive you not with a complacent ear?
Medea.— Nothing : my thoughts were busied for these children.
Jason.—Be of good courage, and for them depend
On my protecting care.