Racine: Phaedra

MEDEA 133
For I that reason have regained which erst
Forsook me, when to the abodes of Greece
I from your home, from a barbarian realm,
Conveyed you, to your sire a grievous bane.
And the corrupt betrayer of that land
Which nurtured you. Some envious god first roused
Your evil genius from the shades of hell
For my undoing : after you had slain
Your brother at the altar, you embarked
In the famed Argo. Deeds like these a life
Of guilt commenced ; with me in wedlock joined.
You bore those sons, whom you have now destroyed
Because I left your bed. No Grecian dame
Would e'er have ventured on a deed so impious;
Yet I to them preferred you for my bride
This was a hostile union, and to me
The most destructive ; for my arms received
No woman, but a lioness more fell
Than Tuscan Scylla. Vainly should I strive
To wound you with reproaches numberless,
For you are grown insensible of shame
Vile sorceress, and polluted with the blood
Of your own children, perish—my hard fate
While I lament, for I shall ne'er enjoy
My lovely bride, nor with those sons, who owe
To me their birth and nurture, ever hold
Sweet converse. They, alas ! can live no more.
Utterly lost to their desponding sire.
Medea.—Much could I say in answer to this charge.
Were not the benefits from me received.
And thy abhorred ingratitude, well-known
To Jove, dread sire. Yet was it not ordained.
Scorning my bed, that thou shouldst lead a life
Of fond delight, and ridicule my griefs
Nor that the royal virgin thou didst wed,
Or Creon, who to thee his daughter gave,
Should drive me from these regions unavenged.
A lioness then call me if thou wilt.
Or by the name of Scylla, whose abode
Was in Etrurian caverns. For thy heart.
As justice prompted, in my turn I wounded.