Attendant: Why dost thou, so long my lady's own handmaid, stand here
at the gate alone, loudly lamenting to thyself the piteous tale? how
comes it that Medea will have thee leave her to herself?
Nurse: Old man, attendant on the sons of Jason, our masters' fortunes
when they go awry make good slaves grieve and touch their hearts.
Oh! have come to such a pitch of grief that there stole a yearning
wish upon me to come forth hither and proclaim to heaven and earth
my mistress's hard fate.
Attendant: What! has not the poor lady ceased yet from her lamentation?
Nurse: Would I were as thou art! the mischief is but now beginning;
it has not reached its climax yet.
Attendant: O foolish one, if I may call my mistress such a name; how
little she recks of evils yet more recent!
Nurse: What mean'st, old man? grudge not to tell me.
Studies
