TUT. O thou ancient possession of my mistress's house, why dost thou stand at the gates preserving thus thy solitude, bewailing to thyself our misfortunes? How doth Medea wish to be left alone without thee?
NUR. O aged man, attendant on the children of Jason, to faithful servants the affairs of their masters turning out ill are a calamity, and lay hold upon their feelings. For I have arrived at such a height of grief that desire hath stolen on me to come forth hence and tell the misfortunes of Medea to the earth and heaven.
TUT. Does not she wretched yet receive any respite from her grief?
NUR. I envy thy ignorance; her woe is at its rise, and not even yet at its height.
TUT. O unwise woman, if it is allowable to say this of one's lords, since she knows nothing of later ills.
NUR. But what is this, O aged man? grudge not to tell me.
TUT. Nothing: I have repented even of what was said before.
NUR. Do not, I beseech you by your beard, conceal it from your fellow-servant; for I will preserve silence, if it be necessary, on these subjects.
TUT. I heard from some one who was saying, not appearing to listen, having approached the places where dice is played, where the elders sit, around the hallowed font of Pirene, that the king of this land, Creon, intends to banish from the Corinthian country these children, together with their mother; whether this report be true, however, I know not; but I wish this may not be the case.
NUR. And will Jason endure to see his children suffer this, even although he is at enmity with their mother?