Fifth Stasimon
CHORUS. Some Women.O Earth, our mother; and thouAll-seer, arrowy crownOf Sunlight, manward nowLook down, Oh, look down!Look upon one accurst,Ere yet in blood she twineRed hands--blood that is thine!O Sun, save her first!She is thy daughter still,Of thine own golden line;Save her! Or shall man spillThe life divine?Give peace, O Fire that diest not! Send thy spellTo stay her yet, to lift her afar, afar--A torture-changed spirit, a voice of HellWrought of old wrongs and war!
Others.Alas for the mother's painWasted! Alas the dearLife that was born in vain!Woman, what mak'st thou here,Thou from beyond the GateWhere dim SymplegadesClash in the dark blue seas,The shores where death doth wait?Why hast thou taken on thee,To make us desolate,This anger of miseryAnd guilt of hate?For fierce are the smitings back of blood once shedWhere love hath been: God's wrath upon them that kill,And an anguished earth, and the wonder of the deadHaunting as music still. . . .
(A cry is heard within.)
A Woman.Hark! Did ye hear? Heard ye the children's cry?
Another.O miserable woman! O abhorred!
A Child within.What shall I do? What is it? Keep me fastFrom mother!
The Other Child.I know nothing. Brother! Oh,I think she means to kill us.
A Woman.Let me go!I will--Help! Help!--and save them at the last.
A Child.Yes, in God's name! Help quickly ere we die!
The Other Child.She has almost caught me now. She has a sword.
(Many of the Women are now beating at the barred door to get in. Others are standing apart.)
Women at the door.Thou stone, thou thing of iron! Wilt verilySpill with thine hand that life, the vintage storedOf thine own agony?
The Other Women.A Mother slew her babes in days of yore,One, only one, from dawn to eventide,Ino, god-maddened, whom the Queen of HeavenSet frenzied, flying to the dark: and sheCast her for sorrow to the wide salt sea,Forth from those rooms of murder unforgiven,Wild-footed from a white crag of the shore,And clasping still her children twain, she died.
O Love of Woman, charged with sorrow sore,What hast thou wrought upon us? What besideResteth to tremble for?
Words in this poem
- arrowy a.
- Consisting of arrows.
- accurst p. p.
- Doomed to destruction or misery; cursed; hence, bad enough to be under the curse; execrable; detestable; exceedingly hateful; -- as, an accursed deed.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- spill n.
- A bit of wood split off; a splinter. [sq. root170. Cf. Spell a splinter.]
- afar adv.
- At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- yore adv.
- In time long past; in old time; long since. [OE. , yare, , AS. geára;akin to geár a year, E. year. Year.]
- eventide n.
- The time of evening; evening. [AS. æfentid. See Tide.]
- crag n.
- The neck or throat [A form of craw: cf. D. kraag neck, collar, G. kragen. See Craw.]
- twain a.
- Two;- nearly obsolete in common discourse, but used in poetry and burlesque. [OE. twein, tweien, tweyne, AS. twegen, masc. See Two.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Fifth Stasimon is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Medea of Euripides, translated into English rhyming verse by Gilbert Murray, Project Gutenberg ebook #35451, the Gilbert Murray translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Euripides, Fifth Stasimon, in Medea (1906), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #35451, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/euripides-medea/fifth-stasimon.html, id L28761.
Form and metre
Fifth Stasimon is 69 lines in 14 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic pentameter.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABACDDCEDEDF-F- womenA · thouB · crownA · nowB · downA · accurstC · twineD · thineD · firstC · stillE · lineD · spillE · divineD · spellF · afar · hellF · war
- 2 -ABABC--C-C-CDEDE others · painA · dearB · vainA · hereB · gateC · symplegades · seas · waitC · thee · desolateC · misery · hateC · shedD · killE · deadD · stillE
- 13 -AB-CC-AB women · yoreA · eventideB · heaven · sheC · seaC · unforgiven · shoreA · diedB
- 14 A-A soreA · beside · forA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| CHORUS. Some Women. | 5 | /˘·/˘ |
| O Earth, our mother; and thou | 8 | ··/˘/˘·· |
| All-seer, arrowy crown | 6 | ··/˘˘· |
| Of Sunlight, manward now | 6 | ·/···· |
| Look down, Oh, look down! | 5 | ····· |
| Look upon one accurst, | 6 | ······ |
| Ere yet in blood she twine | 6 | ······ |
| Red hands--blood that is thine! | 6 | ······ |
| O Sun, save her first! | 5 | ····· |
| She is thy daughter still, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Of thine own golden line; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Save her! Or shall man spill | 6 | ······ |
| The life divine? | 4 | ··˘/ |
| Give peace, O Fire that diest not! Send thy spell | 10 | ···/······ |
| To stay her yet, to lift her afar, afar-- | 11 | ·······˘/˘/ |
| A torture-changed spirit, a voice of Hell | 10 | ·/˘·/˘···· |
| Wrought of old wrongs and war! | 6 | ······ |
| Others. | 2 | /˘ |
| Alas for the mother's pain | 7 | ˘/··/˘· |
| Wasted! Alas the dear | 6 | /˘˘/·· |
| Life that was born in vain! | 6 | ······ |
| Woman, what mak'st thou here, | 6 | /˘···· |
| Thou from beyond the Gate | 6 | ······ |
| Where dim Symplegades | 5 | ····· |
| Clash in the dark blue seas, | 6 | ······ |
| The shores where death doth wait? | 6 | ······ |
| Why hast thou taken on thee, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| To make us desolate, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| This anger of misery | 7 | ·/˘·/˘˘ |
| And guilt of hate? | 4 | ···· |
| For fierce are the smitings back of blood once shed | 11 | ··········· |
| Where love hath been: God's wrath upon them that kill, | 11 | ··········· |
| And an anguished earth, and the wonder of the dead | 12 | ··/˘···/˘··· |
| Haunting as music still. . . . | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| (A cry is heard within.) | 6 | ······ |
| A Woman. | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Hark! Did ye hear? Heard ye the children's cry? | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Another. | 3 | ˘/˘ |
| O miserable woman! O abhorred! | 10 | ·/˘˘˘/˘·˘/ |
| A Child within. | 4 | ···· |
| What shall I do? What is it? Keep me fast | 10 | ·········· |
| From mother! | 3 | ·/˘ |
| The Other Child. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| I know nothing. Brother! Oh, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| I think she means to kill us. | 7 | ······· |
| A Woman. | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Let me go! | 3 | ··· |
| I will--Help! Help!--and save them at the last. | 10 | ·········· |
| A Child. | 2 | ·· |
| Yes, in God's name! Help quickly ere we die! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The Other Child. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| She has almost caught me now. She has a sword. | 11 | ··/········ |
| (Many of the Women are now beating at the barred door to get in. Others are standing apart.) | 23 | /··/˘··/˘·······/˘·/˘˘/ |
| Women at the door. | 5 | /˘··· |
| Thou stone, thou thing of iron! Wilt verily | 11 | ·····/˘·/˘˘ |
| Spill with thine hand that life, the vintage stored | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Of thine own agony? | 6 | ···/˘˘ |
| The Other Women. | 5 | ·/˘/˘ |
| A Mother slew her babes in days of yore, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| One, only one, from dawn to eventide, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘˘ |
| Ino, god-maddened, whom the Queen of Heaven | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| Set frenzied, flying to the dark: and she | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Cast her for sorrow to the wide salt sea, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Forth from those rooms of murder unforgiven, | 11 | ·····/˘·˘/˘ |
| Wild-footed from a white crag of the shore, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And clasping still her children twain, she died. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| O Love of Woman, charged with sorrow sore, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| What hast thou wrought upon us? What beside | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Resteth to tremble for? | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.