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Creon.
Thou dost speak soft to hear; yet in my mind
Is fear lest thou be planning some foul deed,
And so much less I trust thee than before.
For a woman passionate, yea and a man, 320 (319)
Is easier warded than a silent plotter.
But go forth at the quickest, speak no word;
Since this is fixed, nor hast thou shift by which
Thou shalt stay with us, being my enemy.
Medea.
Nay by thy knees, by thy new-wedded child! 325 (324)
Creon.
Thou dost lose words. For thou shalt nought prevail.
Medea.
But wilt thou exile me, nor heed my prayers?
Creon.
Since thee I love not more than mine own house.
Medea.
My country, how I now remember thee!