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Translated by E. Coleridge.
57 pages - You are on Page 13 Medea: O, say not so! by thy knees and by thy daughter newlywed, I do implore! Creon: Thou wastest words; thou wilt never persuade me. Medea: What, wilt thou banish me, and to my prayers no pity yield? Creon: I will, for I love not thee above my own family. Medea: O my country! what fond memories I have of thee in this hour! Creon: Yea, for I myself love my city best of all things save my children. Medea: Ah me! ah me! to mortal man how dread a scourge is love! Creon: That, I deem, is according to the turn our fortunes take. Medea: O Zeus! let not the author of these my troubles escape thee. Previous Page / First / Next Page of Medea
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