How wills Medea to be left of thee?
Nurse.
O grey attendant of the sons of Jason,
The hearts of faithful servants still are touched
By ill-betiding fortunes of their lords. 55
For I have come to such a pass of grief,
That yearning took me hitherward to come
And tell to earth and heaven my lady's fortunes.
Children's Guardian.
Ceaseth not yet the hapless one from moan?
Nurse.
Cease!—her pain scarce begun, the midst far off! 60
Children's Guardian.
Ah fool!—if one may say it of his lords:—
Little she knoweth of the latest blow.
Nurse.
What is it, ancient? Grudge not thou to tell me.
Children's Guardian.
Nought: I repent me of the word that 'scaped me.
Nurse.
Nay, by thy beard, from fellow-thrall hide not— 65
Silence, if need be, will I keep thereof.
Children's Guardian.
I heard one saying—feigning not to hear,
As I drew near the marble thrones,[1] where sit
The ancients round Peirênê's hallowed fount,—
