Penny Dreadfuls, 1912 · page 43 of 118
The Medea — page 43: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Description This is a running prose page from what appears to be a dramatic text—specifically a Victorian theatrical adaptation of the classical Greek myth of Medea (page 27). The page contains dialogue between Medea and a male character (likely Jason, though not named here), in which Medea responds to his offer of financial support by turning to the Chorus and delivering a bitter monologue. She catalogs her past sacrifices for him—saving him from the Argo's trials, slaying the serpent guarding the Golden Fleece—while condemning his shamelessness in approaching her after his betrayal. The language is blank verse, typical of nineteenth-century dramatic adaptations of classical subjects.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
MEDEA 27 Thy new state. For I would not have thee flung Provisionless away—aye, and the young Children as well; nor lacking aught that will Of mine can bring thee. Many a lesser ill Hangs on the heels of exile. . . . Aye, and though Thou hate me, dream not that my heart can know Or fashion aught of angry will to thee. MEDEA Evil, most evil! . . . since thou grantest me That comfort, the worst weapon left me now To smite a coward. . . . Thou comest to me, thou, Mine enemy! (Zurning to the CuHorus.) Oh, say, how call ye this, To face, and smile, the comrade whom his kiss Betrayed? Scorn? Insult? Courage? , None of these: *Tis but of all man’s inward sicknesses _ The vilest, that he knoweth not of shame Nor pity! Yet I praise him that he came... To me it shall bring comfort, once to clear My heart on thee, and thou shalt wince to hear. I will begin with that, ’twixt me and thee, That first befell. I saved thee. I saved thee— Let thine own Greeks be witness, every one That sailed on Argo—saved thee, sent alone To yoke with yokes the bulls of fiery breath, And sow that Acre of the Lords of Death; And mine own ancient Serpent, who did keep The Golden Fleece, the eyes that knew not sleep, And shining coils, him also did I smite Dead for thy sake, and lifted up the light EOomichbooks.com