Nutrix : dubitas ? Medea : Fugiam , at ulciscar prius
Nutrix : Vindex sequetur . Medea : Forsan inueniam moras
Nutrix : compesce uerba , parce iam , demens , minis
Animosque minue : tempori aptari decet .
Medea : Fortuna opes auferre , non animum potest .
Sed cuius ictu regius cardo strepit ?
Ipse est Pelasgo tumidus imperio Creo .
Creo : Medea , Colchi noxium Aeetae genus ,
Nondum meis exportat e regnis pedem ?
Molitur aliquid : nota fraus , nota est manus .
Cui parcet illa quemue securum sinet ?
Abolerepropere pessimam ferro luem
Equidam parabam : precibus euicit gener .
Concessauita est , liberetfines metu
Abeatque tuta . — fert gradum contra ferox
Minaxque nostros propius affatus petit . —
Arcete , famuli , tactu et accessu procul ,
Iubete sileat . Regium imperium pati
Aliquando discat . Vade ueloci uia
Monstrumque saeuum horribile iamdudum auehe

Nurse : No escape , then ? Medea : I’ll escape— and first , revenge
Nurse : Avengers will hunt you . Medea : I may slow them down .
Nurse : Curb your words , mad woman , stop these threats now ,
Less spirit . , You should adjust to the time .
Medea : Fortune can remove wealth , but not my spirit .
But who makes the royal door creak on its hinge ?
It’s Creon , puffed up with Pelasgian power .
Creon : Medea , Aeetes’ cankerous Colchic seed ,
Has she not yet exited my kingdom ?
She plots . We know her wiles , we know her history .
Whom will she spare or allow peace of mind ?
I planned to expunge this foul infection
Swiftly with steel ; my son-in-law’s prayers prevailed .
She granted life . Let her free the land from fear
And go in safety . She moves towards me
Fierce and threatening ; she wants closer speech .
Keep her away , my men— no touching , no access . Require silence . She needs to learn sometime to endure a king’s power . GO ! —and quickly !
Remove at last a vile ferocious fiend .

Nurse : Yet still you hesitate to run away ? Medea : Oh I will leave . But first : revenge .
Nurse : Then vengeance will follow you . Medea : I’ll find a good excuse to slow it down .
Nurse : Hold your wicked tongue ! You’ve lost your mind ! Less Insolence now , less talk of teaching lessons . Honor allows us to adjust to what a situation demands .
Medea : Fortune has power to ferret out my goods but not my spirit . Somebody’s pounding the palace door . I hear it opening : Creon is here , in person , swaggering with blue-blooded Hellenic arrogance .
Creon : Medea ! That lethal child of Aeetes . King of Colchis ! Has she not yet removed herself from my domains ? Mill-like , her mind works on inexorably , grinds and refines . Her treachery leaves its mark : so does her hand . Will she leave anyone alive or safe from fear of butchery ? Swift action to wipe out the disease her presence brings : this I was planning . But my son-in-law conquered my better judgement with his prayers . She was allowed to live . Now she may go in safety . let her free my land from fear .
Beastlike , aggressive , threatening , she stalks towards me to converse now face to face . Keep her away ! Don’t let her touch me , men . , don’t let her near me . Tell her not to speak a word . Sooner or later she must learn to tolerate imperial commmands .
Go away ! Yes , run away , take flight , take your hideous viciousness waay , so I don’t have to look on it again !