als? It is not
possible that my mistress will lull her rage to rest on any trivial
circumstance.

CHOR. By what means could she come into our sight, and hear the voice of
our discourse, if she would by any means remit her fierce anger and her
fury of mind. Let not my zeal however be wanting ever to my friends. But go
and conduct her hither from without the house, my friend, and tell her
this, hasten, before she injure in any way those within, for this grief of
hers is increased to a great height.

NUR. I will do it, but I fear that I shall not persuade my mistress;
nevertheless I will give you this favor of my labor. And yet with the
aspect of a lioness that has just brought forth does she look sternly on
her attendants when any one approaches near attempting to address her. But
thou wouldest not err in calling men of old foolish and nothing wise, who
invented songs, for festivals, for banquets, and for suppers, the delights
of life that charm the ear; but no mortal has discovered how to soothe with
music and with varied strains those bitter pangs, from which death and
dreadful misfortunes overthrow families. And yet for men to assuage these
griefs with music were gain; but where the plenteous banquet is furnished,
why raise they the song in vain? for the present bounty of the feast brings
pleasure of itself to men.

CHOR. I heard the dismal sound of groans, and in a shrill voice she vents
her bitter[10] anguish on the traitor to her bed, her faithless
husband--and suffering wrongs she calls upon the Goddess Themis, arbitress
of oaths, daughter of Jove, who conducted her to the opposite coast of
Greece, across the sea by night, over the salt straits of the boundless
ocean.

MEDEA, CHORUS.

MED. Ye Corinthian dames, I have come from out my palace; do not in any
wise blame me; for I have known many men who have been[11] renowned, some
who have lived far from public notice, and others in the world; but those
of a retired turn have gained for themselves a character of infamy and
indolence. For justice dwells not in the eyes of man,[12] whoever, before
he can well discover the disposition of a man, hates him at sight, in no
way wronged by him. But it is necessary for a stranger exactly to conform
himself to the state, nor would I praise the native, whoever becoming
self-willed is insolent to his fellow-citizens through ignorance. But this
unexpected event that hath fallen upon me hath destroyed my spirit: I am
going, a