Page:Medea (Webster 1868).djvu/16

 That yearning came on me to pass out here

And cry to earth and heaven my lady's woes.

And she, sad woman, slacks not yet her moans?

Hear him! Griefs at the start, not near half-way.

Oh fool—were't fit to speak thus of our lords—

How all unconscious of the newer ills!

And what are they, old man? Grudge not to tell.

Nought. I am vexed for what's already said.

By thy beard, hide nothing from thy fellow slave:

For I'll keep silence, if need be, on all.

I heard one say, I seeming not to hear,

As I came near the draught-boards where the old men