_Creon:_ Medea, baleful daughter of the Colchian king, Has not yet taken her hateful presence from our realm. 180 On mischief is she bent. Well known her treach'rous power. For who escapes her? Who may pass his days in peace? This curséd 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 185 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. [_To attendants._] Slaves defend us from her touch And pestilential presence! Bid her silence keep, And learn to yield obedience to the king's commands. 190 [_To_ Medea.] Go, speed thy flight, thou thing of evil, fell, and monstrous! _Medea:_ But tell me what the crime, my lord, or what the guilt That merits exile? _Creon:_ Let the guiltless question thus. _Medea:_ If now thou judgest, hear me; if thou reign'st, command.[10] _Creon:_ The king's command thou must abide, nor question aught. 195 _Medea:_ Unrighteous sovereignty has never long endured. _Creon:_ Go hence, and to the Colchians complain. _Medea:_ I go, But let him take me hence who brought me to thy shores. _Creon:_ Thy prayer has come too late, for fixed is my decree. _Medea:_ Who judges, and denies his ear to either side, Though right his judgment, still is he himself unjust. 200 _Creon:_ Didst lend thine ear to Pelias, ere thou judgedst him? But come, I'll give thee grace to plead thy goodly cause.