Thanks to thy husband's love?
MEDEA (to the slave, ignoring Gora's taunt).
Is all prepared?
SLAVE. Yea, mistress.
MEDEA. Come!
[She grasps one handle of the chest, the slave the other, and together they carry it to the pit.]
GORA (observing them from a distance).
Oh, what a task is this
For a proud princess, daughter of a king!
MEDEA. Nay, if it seem so hard, why dost not help?
GORA. Lord Jason's handmaid am I—and not thine!
Nor is it meet one slave another serve.