CREON.
Now it is right thou shouldst go: why sow delays by further talk?
MEDEA.
One last thing as a suppliant I crave, before I go: do not let the crimes of a mother be visited upon her innocent children!
CREON.
Go! I will cherish them, even as a father, in my own paternal bosom.
MEDEA.
I entreat thee by the auspicious marriage-bed involved in this royal marriage, by all the future hopes in which thou mayst indulge, arising therefrom—by the stability of thy throne which uncertain fortune often invades with her varying capricious "ups" and "downs", give me a short time to delay my departure while I as a mother may imprint my last kisses upon my children's cheeks, before I go, perhaps to die!
CREON.
Thou art seeking to gain time, for some wicked purpose!
MEDEA.
What mischief can be feared from me, in so short a time?
CREON.
No time is too short to work out mischief for those that are evilly disposed.
MEDEA.
Thou wilt not, sturdy, deny a miserable creature some little time for mourning her lot!
CREON.
Although my mind had been made up thoroughly to resist thy entreaties, one entire day shall be spared to thee to prepare for thy departure.
