Nurse.
Thy children!
Medea.
Whose, thou know'st.
Nurse.
And dost thou still delay?
Medea.
I go, but vengeance first.
Nurse.
Th' avenger will pursue.
Medea.
Perchance I'll stop his course.
Nurse.
Nay, hold thy words and cease thy threats, O foolish one.
Thy temper curb; 'tis well to yield to fate's decrees.
Medea.
Though fate may strip me of my all, myself am left.
But who flings wide the royal palace doors? Behold,
'Tis Creon's self, exalted high in Grecian sway.
[Medea retires to the back of the stage.
Creon.
[As he enters.] Medea, baleful daughter of the Colchian king,
Has not yet taken her hateful presence from our realm.
On mischief is she bent; well known her treacherous power.
For who escapes her? Who may pass his days in peace?
This cursed pestilence at once would I have stayed
By force of arms: but Jason's prayers prevailed. She still
May live, but let her free my borders from the fear
Her presence genders, and her safety gain by flight.
[He sees Medea approaching.]
But lo, she comes with fierce and threatening mien to seek
An audience with us.
Slaves! defend us from her touch
And pestilential presence! Bid her silence keep,
And learn at length obedience to the king's
Commands.