May writhe, and all alone she moans the name Of father, and land, and home, forsook that day For this man's sake, who casteth her away. Not to be quite shut out from home . . . alas, She knoweth now how rare a thing that was! Methinks she hath a dread, not joy, to see Her children near. 'Tis this that maketh me Most tremble, lest she do I know not what. Her heart is no light thing, and useth not To brook much wrong. I know that woman, aye, And dread her! Will she creep alone to die Bleeding in that old room, where still is laid Lord Jason's bed? She hath for that a blade Made keen. Or slay the bridegroom and the king, And win herself God knows what direr thing? 'Tis a fell spirit. Few, I ween, shall stir Her hate unscathed, or lightly humble her. Ha! 'Tis the children from their games again, Rested and gay; and all their mother's pain Forgotten! Young lives ever turn from gloom! [_The_ CHILDREN _and their_ ATTENDANT _come in_. ATTENDANT. Thou ancient treasure of my lady's room, What mak'st thou here before the gates alone, And alway turning on thy lips some moan Of old mischances? Will our mistress be Content, this long time to be left by thee? NURSE. Grey guard of Jason's children, a good thrall Hath his own grief, if any hurt befall His masters. Aye, it holds one's heart! . . . Meseems I have strayed out so deep in evil dreams, I longed to rest me here alone, and cry Medea's wrongs to this still Earth and Sky. ATTENDANT. How? Are the tears yet running in her eyes? NURSE. 'Twere good to be like thee! . . . Her sorrow lies Scarce wakened yet, not half its perils wrought. ATTENDANT. Mad spirit! . . . if a man may speak his thought Of masters mad.--And nothing in her ears Hath sounded yet of her last cause for tears! [_He moves towards the house, but the_ NURSE _checks him_. NURSE. What cause, old man? . . . Nay, grudge me not one word. ATTENDANT. 'Tis nothing. Best forget what thou hast heard. NURSE. Nay, housemate, by thy beard! Hold it not hid From me. . . . I will keep silence if thou bid. ATTENDANT. I heard an old man talking, where he sate At draughts in the sun, beside the fountain gate, And never thought of me, there standing still Beside him. And he said, 'Twas Creon's will, Being lord of all this land, that she be sent, And with her her two sons, to banishment. Maybe 'tis all false. For myself, I know No further, and I would it were not so. NURSE. Jason will never bear it--his own sons Banished,--however hot his anger runs Against their mother! ATTENDANT. Old love burneth low When new love wakes, men say. He is not now Husband nor father here, nor any kin. NURSE.