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58 pages 1 hour read

Euripides

Medea

Fiction | Play | Adult

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Lines 750-1397Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Lines 750-1397 Summary

Medea is overjoyed at the unexpected good fortune of her run-in with Aegeus. His promise of safe harbor in Athens will provide cover for any crimes she commits, and she immediately plots the details of her revenge.

She will act like she has accepted the situation to Jason and will suggest the children stay with him in Corinth, if possible. Her sons will be “the bait [she’ll] use to trap / and kill the princess bride”; Medea will send them to the princess with a poisoned dress and diadem, purportedly marriage gifts from Medea (773-74). The next part is significantly more difficult, but Medea is determined. She decides that to bring down Jason’s house once and for all, she must kill their children: “Who then will dare to say I’m weak or timid? / No, they’ll say I’m loyal as a friend, ruthless / as a foe, so much like a hero destined for glory” (800-2).

Dismayed, the Chorus is compelled by “the laws of man” to urge her to stop, but Medea has made up her mind and sends the Nurse to fetch Jason (804). The Chorus laments that Aegeus’s Athens, a city blessed by the gods and renowned for its excellence in the arts, will soon admit a kin-slayer (815-39). However, they doubt that Medea will be able to murder her sons when the moment arrives (840-49).

The Nurse returns with Jason. Medea tells him that she has talked down her stubbornness and agrees that his choices were made for the good of their family. His only fault was in provoking her womanly weaknesses. She calls the children out to greet Jason and acts like her tears at the sight of them are residual effects from the quarrel with their father (876-84). Jason is glad Medea has come to her senses and tells his sons how blessed their lives will be now—which only makes Medea cry harder. Jason questions why she is so upset, and she plays it off as womanly emotional weakness, saying, “Remember, / as a woman my nature is to cry” (908-9). She urges Jason to convince Creon to let their sons stay in Corinth even if she must be exiled, and she suggests he appeal to his new wife to gain her father’s ear. She will even send the princess marriage gifts in the hands of her sons to persuade her. Jason agrees to try, and he and the children leave with the robe and diadem. The Chorus reminds the audience that Medea has poisoned them and will render the princess a bride of death. “Medea,” they say, “you’re wrong […] you’ll kill your sons, justice too harsh / for Jason’s heartless crimes” (971-73).

The Tutor enters the scene and confirms that the princess accepted the gifts and agreed to allow the children to remain in Corinth. He is confused at the distress this causes Medea. She responds, “Grief is all that’s left” (990). The Tutor misunderstands, thinking Medea is sad to be leaving her children behind; he reminds her that “Women lose their children frequently / so bear this sorrow as best you can” (994-95). His words inadvertently strengthen Medea’s resolve to kill her sons.

Addressing her sons upon their return from the princess, Medea laments that she will not be able to enjoy the traditional roles Greek mothers enjoy as their children grow up, particularly the rites associated with their marriages and their expected care for her in old age. For a moment, her deep love for them convinces her she cannot go through with their murders, but then she remembers that if she leaves them alive, her “foes / unpunished mock” her (1026-27). She sends the boys into the house and decides, “It’s too late. By all of Hell’s vengeful / demons I’ll not leave my sons / for my enemies to ridicule” (1035-37). The horror of what she is about to do overwhelms her, and she claims that “angry passions” have mastered her (1054-55). The Chorus wonders if it is better to never have children at all. They bring great joy to their parents but also great pain, especially when they die (1057-85).

A Messenger arrives, bringing awful tidings: The princess has been murdered. Medea eagerly requests all the gory details. The Messenger says that the princess accepted the gifts from Medea’s sons and donned the dress and crown immediately, dancing in joy, as if under a spell. Her happiness, however, was short-lived; she soon began screaming and writhing, foaming at the mouth. The crown suddenly burst into flames and set her alight. In a particularly graphic detail, the Messenger adds, “Only her father could have known / who she was. The eyes had melted” (1165-66). Creon embraced his daughter’s corpse and found his body melded to her enchanted dress, which ripped the flesh from his bones and killed him too. The Messenger is confident Medea’s punishment for these murders will come swiftly and surely. The Chorus still believes Jason deserved to be punished but laments the princess’s awful fate.

Medea realizes she now has little time remaining to kill her children: “If I hesitate now someone else / will murder them more cruelly. / There’s no way out,” she concludes. “They must die.” (1210-12). The Chorus begs the sun god Helios, Medea’s grandfather, to intervene, reminding him that the children are his family, too, and wishing Medea were not so hellbent on her anger (1227-46). They hear the children crying for help from inside as Medea murders them and compare Medea to Ino, another mythological woman who slew her children (1259-65).

Jason arrives at the house, ready to punish Medea for the deaths of Creon and the princess but not yet aware of what has happened to the children. Medea will have to “fly on wings to heaven,” he says, “to avoid what she deserves” (1271-72). The Chorus reluctantly informs him that Medea has killed their sons. When Jason tries to wrench open the door of the house, Medea appears above it, hovering dramatically in a golden chariot drawn by dragons.

She mocks Jason, telling him that Helios has sent his chariot and now “only words can reach her” (1295). Jason rails against her, wishing he had never brought a foreign “barbarian” who had already proven herself disloyal to her own family and country home to Greece. He attributes all of Medea’s reaction to her jealousy over his new marriage. He wants her to leave, but they again engage in a verbal debate, reiterating several of their past points. Jason argues that Medea is prideful and an awful mother; Medea argues that Jason is a disloyal oath-breaker. Jason begs to be allowed to give their sons a proper burial, but Medea refuses, insisting on taking them with her to expiate the murders and bury the bodies somewhere “safe / from my enemies who’d want to dig them up” (1354-55). She denies Jason even a chance to touch the corpses. As Jason appeals to Zeus for justice in vain, Medea flies away, unpunished, on her chariot. Jason wishes his children had never been born. The Chorus closes the play wondering, “Think of the story we’ve just listened to: / Who won? Who lost?”

Lines 750-1397 Analysis

In this section we reach the shocking conclusion of the story: As Euripides has foreshadowed through the play, Medea murders her children, but in defiance of all expectations, Jason is left in shambles while Medea escapes scot-free. She is punished by none of the usual forces the Greeks would expect to govern her behavior, not by social shaming, not by law, and most shocking of all, not by the gods, the final failsafe for justice.

As we have already touched on above, the guardrails of honor and shame had an outsized impact on ancient Greek behavior. Each person, man or woman, slave or freeborn, knew they must act appropriately according to their station, and must also treat others with the respect they are due—or risk severe censure. The law system, for the most part, enforced these norms as well. But if a person did not receive their justice for their crimes, socially or legally, it was believed that a third apparatus still existed to punish them: the gods, particularly those associated with oath-keeping and the proper maintenance of obligations.

The most powerful of these divine enforcers was Zeus, king of the gods and the primary patron of guests and hospitality. Throughout the play several characters remind Medea to ask Zeus, specifically, for justice (e.g., 155-58; 1326-27). However, Medea seems less interested in appealing to Zeus than we might expect. Maybe she doubts the most famous philanderer of the gods would slight Jason for his infidelity (Zeus was infamous for his extramarital affairs), but there are also more direct reasons for her reticence. Medea betrayed her own family to help Jason. She worked against the wishes of her father, then murdered her brother in the escape—and killed Jason’s uncle Pelias too. Maybe she believes she can expect no assistance from Zeus on these counts.

Early in the play she prayed to Themis instead, the goddess concerned with the unwritten rules of social obligation, and to Artemis (167-70). Artemis was the virgin goddess of the hunt and the patron of unmarried women. In appealing to her, Medea may have signaled that she was already shedding her identity of wife and mother—a process she completes in the climax of the play, by murdering her children. In destroying them, Medea has, in some ways, turned back time on herself. By completely cutting out any connection to Jason, she restores herself to an earlier state of being from before she met him.

In any case, none of these gods—not Zeus, Themis, Artemis, or even Medea’s grandfather Helios, the god of the sun, seem to have any quarrel with how Medea handles the situation. One of the most striking aspects of her story is that she goes unpunished for her crimes not only by mankind but also by the gods. Greek mythology is rife with people who purposefully (or inadvertently) kill family members and are relentlessly pursued by the Underworld’s scourges of kin-slayers, the Furies, with whom Jason threatens Medea. But in the end Medea is lifted from the mortal realm of the play not by her own power but by the power of the gods, a literal deus ex machina. After she flies away in her grandfather’s chariot, there is no tradition, either in Euripides’s play or in the broader mythology, of Medea being punished for her crimes at all. For their own mysterious—or not so mysterious—reasons, the gods seem to land firmly on Medea’s side, not Jason’s or Creon’s.

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