Scene: The Hall of Pyrrhus' Castle, a rude stone building, with spears, swords, and armour hanging on the walls. A doorway in the back wall leads to the courtyard. At the extreme right is a fire burning; near it are two high seats for the King and Queen.
On a bench near the door are Andromache and Molossus seated; on the floor near them is a small pile of carpets and tapestries, and a bowl with some metal ornaments and small weapons in it.
Andromache.
But when you saw him fall, and saw the pain in his face, did it give you no grief?
Molossus.
A little, it may be. Not more than when I struck[Pg 42] my first deer. A child might cry over the ox they are flaying now in the yard.
Andromache.
And a grown man, too, if it availed anything.
Molossus.
Mother, you are but a woman, and I am getting to be a man; I must grow past all that and throw it behind me.
Enter Orestes unnoticed: he stands in the doorway, leaning against a pillar.
Andromache.
May your eyes never see half the pain mine have seen! I grew past feeling for it, too, long, long ago. I saw men writhe and bite the dust, without caring for them or counting them. They were so many that they were all confused, and the noise of their anguish was like the crying of cranes far off; there was no one voice in it, and no meaning. And then, as it went on growing, and the sons of Priam died about me and the folk starved, and my husband, Hector, was slain with torment, all the voices gathered again together and seemed as one voice, that cried to my heart so that it understood.
[Pg 43]
Molossus.
What did it say, mother?
Andromache.
It spoke in a language that you know not, my son.
Molossus.
Did it speak Phrygian?
Andromache.
It spoke the language of old, old men, and those whose gods have deserted them.
[Orestes moves forward as though to speak, but checks himself.
Molossus.
But you could tell me what it said.
Andromache.
[Looking at him, and not answering.] Why did you ever wish to kill that herd-boy?
Molossus.
We had taken their cattle before. They always fight us.
[Pg 44]
Andromache.
Would it not be better that they should live at peace with you?
Molossus.
Why should I fear their blood-feud? I would sooner be slain than ask favours of them. My father would avenge me well!
Andromache.
And who will be the happier? Listen. Can you hear that little beating sound—down seaward, away from the sun?
Molossus.
It is the water lapping against the rocks.
Andromache.
There is a sound like that in the language I told you of. Old, old men, and those whose gods have deserted them, hear it in their hearts—the sound of all the blood that men have spilt and the tears they have shed, lapping against great rocks, in shadow, away from the sun.
Molossus.
But, mother, no warrior hears any sound like that.
[Pg 45]
Andromache.
Hector learnt to hear it before he died.
Orestes.
[Coming forward.] Before he died! Is that its meaning?
Andromache.
The stranger! [Turning.
Orestes.
Does it mean death, that sound?
Andromache.
Nay, methinks a man hears it when he has suffered enough, if he has the right ear to hear it.
Orestes.
But it is then that death should come, when a man has suffered enough.
Andromache.
Nay, death should not come for suffering. Death should come when there is no hope left for any one thing in the world.
Orestes.
[Broodingly.] One thing!
[Pg 46]
Molossus.
But, Mother, they called Hector "Slayer of Men." I want first to slay many, many men, and many wild beasts, and burn a town, that people may fear me, and call me "Slayer of Men." And after that—after that, I will be merciful, and slay only those I hate.
Andromache.
Shall you hate men still?
Molossus.
If they wrong me! [Andromache smiles.] Shall I not hate them that wrong me? Do you not yourself?
Andromache.
Light of my age, if I hated, how should I live? There are three living souls that I love—you and your father and old Alcimus. And if I hated, whom should I hate more bitterly?
Molossus.
I know my father was your enemy once. But what did old Alcimus?
Andromache.
He was one of the three who slew my little child.
[Pg 47]
Molossus.
Astyanax? [She nods.] I wish Astyanax were alive, mother. I would take him hunting.—He would have no share, would he, in my heritage?
Andromache.
I know nothing of that.
Molossus.
And did you never hate them—not at the time?
Andromache.
[Looking at him, then passing her hand across her face.] Oh yes, I hated them!
Molossus.
But not me! I never did much harm to you.
Andromache.
Some day perhaps you will hurt me worse than any of them; but I shall not hate you.
Molossus.
[After a pause, handling the objects in the bowl.] Well, I give you my oath this time, Mother; but I will not atone for my next slaying.
[Pg 48]
Enter Alcimedon and Attendants.
Alcimedon.
The bull is finished, and a fine beast he was. [Seeing the bowl.] What is this?
Molossus.
[Shamefaced.] Nothing. Some pieces of mother's old stores.
Andromache.
The price for the blood of the herd-boy.
Molossus.
She made me vow it!
Alcimedon.
The atonement? That is right. I feared that Pyrrhus would be too proud to pay it.
Molossus.
You need not think that I wanted him to pay it!
Alcimedon.
H'm! That was how I talked once, before I knew what a blood-feud was. And now I would pay a dead man's weight in silver to be clear of one. Of[Pg 49] course, with a stranger it is different, or a man who has no kin. [Examining the stores.] No need to pay too much, though. It was a little boy, they tell me, and poorly clad.
Molossus.
[Almost crying.] He was a big boy!—I hate the Napans, and I will slay more of them!
Alcimedon.
There are the oxen as well. We have killed two; but sorry beasts, both, sorry beasts. Any two calves will more than make up for them.
Molossus.
But I hate them!
Alcimedon.
Hate them your fill; but make up the feud: we must not have Pyrrhus left childless.
Molossus.
What is it to me if Pyrrhus is childless? He can avenge his children.
Alcimedon.
Peace is better.
Molossus.
[Contemptuously.] Peace!
[Pg 50]
Orestes.
And what is the rto peace? The hate must eat itself out, till it stays for weariness.
Alcimedon.
A long r stranger, too long and too rough to the feet. We want peace now!
Orestes.
How can you get peace now, when the blood is still wet? He may give all his silver and his kine, but he will hate the men whose blood he has drunk; and though they swear by all the gods of their valley, they will hate him. And hate will out, in time, one way or another.
Molossus.
If ever they swerve a hair's breadth from their oaths——
Alcimedon.
And is there to be no peace at all?
Orestes.
Peace for this one—[touching Molossus]—when Pyrrhus is childless, or when——
[Pg 51]
Alcimedon.
Your words on your own head!
Orestes.
——when the last of the Napans has gone from the earth.
Andromache.
Nay; no peace then.
Orestes.
Not for the dead?
Andromache.
Do not men see the dead roaming the world, and hear them call for blood?
Orestes.
[Excitedly.] How know you, woman, that the Dead call for blood? [Gloomily again.] When the whole of a race is gone there may perhaps be peace.
Andromache.
But the whole of a race is never gone. Even from Troy there are men escaped who may make cities and seek for vengeance again. And if you blot out all the Napans, there are those beyond the Napans[Pg 52] who will hate you for that very thing. Make peace, swiftly, before you die, my son, lest there be no peace for ever and ever.
Enter Hermione, with Priest of Thetis and Attendants; she is richly dressed, and her eyes bright and anxious. She passes up to the two high seats, and takes one. She talks with her Maids, and Alcimedon goes over to her.
Orestes.
[Detaching another pendant from his chain.] Woman, you can see men's hearts, and you talk not as these talk. Behold, there is no peace, for peace is nothing; there is either Love or Hate. [Throwing pendant into the bowl.] If gold can buy love where hate is, put that to the blood-gift!
Hermione.
[To Orestes, across the hall.] Sir Stranger, this Priest tells me you are skilled as a bard.
Orestes.
I have little skill in music, but I have journeyed much.
Hermione.
You can tell us strange tales of your voyages?
[Pg 53]
Orestes.
Not of my own. But I was telling this boy a tale even now.
Hermione.
Nay, no boys' tales! Andromache, take your son and help with the ox flesh. [To Orestes.] And sit not so far off, among the slaves' seats. Tell us some man's story.
Orestes.
[Approaching, but bringing Molossus with him, while Andromache goes out.] Nay, I will keep the boy. It is a boy's tale, this, and of little meaning. But seeing I have begun—— [To Molossus.] Have you heard of a man that once had a great feud—Orestes, Agamemnon's son?
Molossus.
Who slew his mother, and was driven by——
Priest.
Nay, name them not, child, name not those Holy Ones.
Alcimedon.
We love not his name in this house, stranger. Have you no other tale?
[Pg 54]
Hermione.
[Controlling her excitement.] Nay, what hurt is his name? It is only some boy's tale.
Orestes.
He took on him a great feud, greater than he knew. For his father called from the dead for vengeance on the woman who had murdered him. And the gods called, too, and put voices always about him calling for blood. And then they betrayed him!
Molossus.
Did his father betray him, too?
Orestes.
Nay, it may be that the voice was not his father's, after all. But the gods——
Priest.
See that your tongue offend not, stranger!
Orestes.
So be it. Well, in the end he recked not of the gods. He cared not how sore they hated him, and cared not if he lived or died.
[Pg 55]
Molossus.
And what did he do?
Orestes.
This is the last story I heard of him, from a Chalcidian man who had been in Sicily.
Hermione.
Had he gone so far away?
Orestes.
Beyond the end of Sicily to a kingdom of the Iberians. For he vowed that he would be like Paris, and win the most beautiful of all women for his wife; for, you must know, the gods had marred all the world for him, and made it all as ashes in his mouth, except beauty. For beauty is immortal, like themselves; and they cannot hurt it. So he sought and questioned where that woman might be; and men said she was queen of a land among the Iberians.
Hermione.
[Half divining his meaning.] Had he seen her himself?
Orestes.
Ay, long ago, they said.
[Pg 56]
Hermione.
And did he too deem her so fair?
Orestes.
[Looking full at her.] More beautiful than the flowers and the sunlight, so that in dreams her eyes haunted him.
Molossus.
Well, and what did he do?
Orestes.
He took his ship, with a hundred men well armed, and hid them in a bay of Iberia. And he went up alone to the king's castle and saw the woman. For he was not sure if she was really so beautiful, and wanted to see her again very close. So he stayed in the king's house and made a plot to bear her away.
Molossus.
But what happened?
Orestes.
I said it was but a boy's story. The Chalcidian knew not what had happened. Some said he won the queen to his ship, and fled away, wandering; and some said she told the king of his plotting, and they[Pg 57] slew him there in the banquet hall. [A slight pause.] So perchance even Orestes has found his peace; or, perchance he is still an outcast man, with a new feud following him.
Molossus.
But I wish I knew.
Orestes.
Oh, 'tis a foolish story, without an ending.
Hermione.
[Breaking out from her suspense; recklessly.] And a poor fool, your Orestes, whatever befell!
Orestes.
How so? What if he won the woman?
Hermione.
He only fled on the seas with her, an exiled man, with no comfort. Could he not get him a kingdom?
Orestes.
Belike he cared not for a little kingdom, being once robbed of his own great kingdom.
Hermione.
If a high seat is empty, shall not a great king's[Pg 58] son be bold to sit on it? Were his men good soldiers of Mycen?
Orestes.
Some, of Mycen, who had sacked Troy; some, pirates he had got in his voyaging; all good fighters!
Hermione.
Could he not slay that Iberian in his halls, and sit upon his seat?
Alcimedon.
By Thetis! that would have been a gallant deed.
Priest.
Unrighteous, very unrighteous; but doubtless the Iberian would have sinned against some god!
Orestes.
The Iberians may be brave fighters; I know not. And he knew of none to help him.
Alcimedon.
A hundred good Phthians might have tried it.
Hermione.
The queen might have had her own friends who would fight for her.
[Pg 59]
Alcimedon.
A very foul deed, very foul; but a gallant one! And if she would leave her lord—the hound!—she might well help to slay him!
Orestes.
He did not seek her for her righteousness; he sought her because her beauty spoke like a god to him!
[A moment's pause. A shout of several voices heard in the Court.
Alcimedon.
What is that shouting?
[Moves towards door, with Molossus; the Priest follows.
Hermione.
I heard the King's voice in it. [To her Maids.] Go, quick. See what has happened. [They also go towards the door, leaving Hermione and Orestes alone. An instant of silence; then she makes a quick movement to him.] Oh, speak!
Orestes.
Either I will take you this night or I will be slain here in the hall!
[Pg 60]
Hermione.
Oh, take me, take me! I am half dead with wearying!
Orestes.
You shall weary no more. Go forth alone at midnight to the altar of Thetis——
Hermione.
The altar of Thetis—by night![She shows fear.
Orestes.
What do you fear? [Hermione shudders, but does not answer.] You dare not? Then, let it end the other way!
Hermione.
Dare you slay him?
Orestes.
That is no great thing!
Hermione.
And the witch, and the witch-child?[With frightened ferocity.
Orestes.
Slay her?
[Pg 61]
Hermione.
You will not? You will not? Oh, then, I dare not go to you!
[Orestes looks at her with surprise and some repulsion; the women and Alcimus return, followed by Pyrrhus and Molossus, with some armour: after them Andromache and some retainers.
Maid.
A gift for Molossus! The King has given him a helmet and shield and spear!
Molossus.
And greaves, too, with bronze rims!
Pyrrhus.
Not yet, my boy! [As Molossus would fit a greave on.] Bad luck before a banquet.
Alcimus.
Wait till the morning, my lad!
Pyrrhus.
[With sudden displeasure, seeing the blood-gifts.] What mean all these carpets, and the bowl yonder?
[Pg 62]
Andromache.
They are gifts for the atonement.
Pyrrhus.
Atonement—to those dogs!
Andromache.
My King, it was the boon you granted me.
Pyrrhus.
[Turning towards Molossus.] The boy never consented!
Molossus.
I—verily I liked it not—but I gave my word. Mother made me.
Pyrrhus.
You have just slain a man, and a woman can frighten you to promising your own dishonour?
Molossus.
She did not frighten me; she—I know not how she did it!
Hermione.
[With a laugh.] Others can guess well enough how she did it!
[Pg 63]
First Maid.
[Muttering.] Sorceress!
Second Maid.
[The same.] Phrygian witch!
Alcimus.
Hold your peace, little prating foxes!
First Maid.
Oh, we all know she has witched old Alcimedon, long ago.
Molossus.
[Half crying, as Pyrrhus stands gloomily silent.] I would not make atonement to them, Father, for all the world!
Pyrrhus.
She has your word now, little fool; and mine likewise.—By the gods, woman, you have got your will, and shamed me in the eyes of all men.
Andromache.
Master, your honour is more to me than mine own. This thing shames you not; even Alcimedon deemed it wise and honourable.
[Pg 64]
Alcimus.
The boy is very young; if he were a man, belike——
Hermione.
Is Alcimedon the judge of his lord's honour?
Andromache.
But how should I ever seek to hurt your honour? Why should I wish it?
Priest.
[As Pyrrhus goes silently back to the throne.] A barbarian woman never forgets a hurt.
First Maid.
'Tis the spite of a conquered Phrygian.
Hermione.
Let her be, King! She is thinking ever of her Hector, and Astyanax whom you slew!
Andromache.
My lord——
Pyrrhus.
Peace, peace! She knows well enough that Hector is dead—and beyond the seas too. Though I were[Pg 65] shamed to the dirt in mine own hall, Hector would not hear of it!
Hermione.
Are you sure?
Priest.
Hector himself is buried beyond the seas, but his ghost may have followed your ships to Phthia. [Coming up to the throne.] Yea, son of Achilles, though you like not my counsel, there be witches in Phrygia that can wake the dead, and tell them of shame come to their enemies, or of——
Alcimus.
There be none such in Phthia, old man! And if the dead should wake, your prating would even set them to sleep again.[Laughter, in which Pyrrhus slightly joins.
Pyrrhus.
'Tis well said, Alcimedon! These women and priests!
Priest.
Nay, but I will speak!
[Talks to Pyrrhus, round whom a group gathers, leaving Andromache alone, and Orestes near Alcimedon.
[Pg 66]
Orestes.
[Apart to Alcimedon.] Old man, you have seen Helen. Was she more beautiful than your Queen?
Alcimus.
[Looking towards Hermione, then brightening.] Nay, this is a woman like another; Helen was goddesslike, deathless and ageless for ever!
Orestes.
[To himself.] For Helen I could have done it! Alcimedon, did yonder woman ever do Helen any great wrong, anything meet for vengeance?
Alcimus.
Andromache? Why, 'twas Helen did her all the wrong!
Orestes.
Even so; and therefore she must have hated her. Did she never seek, think you, to have Helen slain?
Alcimus.
I trow not! Why, she gave her home and shelter when the folk of Troy sought to stone her.
[Pg 67]
Orestes.
[Brooding.] If she had ever plotted against Helen, I could have done it.
Pyrrhus.
[Shaking off the Priest.] Enough, enough!—Is your stranger in the hall, Andromache?
Andromache.
He is here, my lord; a man of good counsel, methinks, and like to be faithful to his guest-oath.
Pyrrhus.
He is happily come to a night of festival.—Stranger, you stand far from the fire.
[Orestes and Hermione have been trying to read one another's faces. Here Orestes turns bitterly, looks to the suits of armour on the wall, and chooses a seat near one.
Orestes.
Nay, I have a good seat.
Pyrrhus.
We will call the bard and be merry.
[Pg 68]
Orestes.
[Gloomily.] I have heard your bard but now.
Priest.
The stranger makes minstrelsy himself, as many chieftains may.
Orestes.
Ay, give me a goblet, and I will sing. I am but a rude singer, but my songs may perchance be new.
Pyrrhus.
Take him the wine.[They bring wine and a lyre.
Orestes.
There are two songs running in my ears this hour past; and I know not fully even yet which of the two is better.
Pyrrhus.
Let it be something joyful, meet for a feast-day.
Orestes.
I fancied before that one of my songs was very joyful; but now methinks there is no joy at all in either.
[Pg 69]
Pyrrhus.
[After looking at him questioningly for a moment.] Then give us a good straight battle-piece, with no cowards in it, and no slaying by stealth.
Orestes.
[Excitedly.] That it shall be! No cowards, no slaying by stealth, and a clean, hard fight! Ay, and it is the easier too!
Priest.
You will call first upon the god, stranger.
Orestes.
Assuredly; and the god can choose the end of the lay.[Chanting.
"Lord of Man's hope, whom no man worshippeth,
Heart of his fears, and burthen of his breath,
Queller of hate and love, hear, O Most Strong,
Most Wrathful and Unrighteous, hear, O Death!"
Men-at-Arms.
Good words! Good words!
Priest.
God avert the omen![He goes and does purifications at the fire.
[Pg 70]
Alcimedon.
On his own head! By Thetis! this stranger has run over with evil words ever since he came.
Pyrrhus.
Choose another song, Sir Stranger! Men like not the name of Death.
Orestes.
Not death! Shall I sing of women, then? They come nearest.[Chants.
"O Light and Shadow of all things that be,
O Beauty, wild with wreckage like the sea,
Say who shall win thee, thou without a name?
O Helen, Helen, who shall die for thee?"
Alcimedon.
[Starting up.] Now, by Thetis, stranger, in shape God has made you kinglike, but within a very fool!
Hermione.
[Piteously.] My mother Helen never wished the men to die!
Orestes.
My singing mislikes you, old man? Or is it women that like you not?
[Pg 71]
Pyrrhus.
Stranger, some gayer song would better suit a day of rejoicing. Are the songs of Acarnania all sad?
Orestes.
Do the men of Phthia wince at the name of death?
Alcimedon.
We have our own bard, who can sing to our liking; and his lays will tell whether we fear death.
Orestes.
Your own bard will sing your own valour, belike? That I can ill do; for I have heard but little of the deeds of Pyrrhus.
Alcimedon.
The name of Troy has been heard, perchance, even in Acarnania?
Orestes.
But the praise of your ancestors I could make into something—something gayer, you said? Was acus the first of your house?
Alcimedon.
acus, son of Zeus.
[Pg 72]
Orestes.
[Twanging the lyre carelessly and improvising.
"Great were our sires, and feeble folk are we!
A strong king and a wise was acus,
And Zeus his father helped him in his need,
And Pelops, Lord of Hellas, loved him well!"
Alcimedon.
[Grumbling.] acus was no vassal of Pelops!
Orestes.
"The son is weaker, weaker than the sire!
And Peleus he begat, a goodly king;
Albeit he stabbed his brother on the sand,
And wandered from his house, and begged, and lied,
And vowed a goddess held him to her breast."
[Murmurs in the hall. Orestes pauses and drinks.
Pyrrhus.
[Under his breath.] Does the man seek for strife?
Orestes.
"The son is falser, falser than the sire!"——
[Pg 73]
Hermione.
Perchance his wine likes him not. [Goes down to Orestes, pours him fresh wine, and whispers.] Are you mad?
Orestes.
[In the same tone, looking in her face.] Knew you not that, long ago?[Continuing, while she goes back to the throne.
"Achilles, Peleus' son, was swift of foot,
And slew by guile great Hector, and was slain.
And, though he hid from war in woman's weeds,
And though he kept his tent while others fought,
Yet gat he from his loins one son true born,
And craved not mercy, gave not gifts for blood!"
Pyrrhus.
What does the dog mean?
Orestes.
"The son is viler, viler than the sire!"
Pyrrhus.
[Starting up.] By all my fathers together, this is the end! Ho, Myrmidons!
[He snatches up the spear and shield of Molossus.[Pg 74] The other men take arms and growl. Hermione starts up, clasping her head with both hands, and staring in terror before her. Orestes stays quietly seated.
Andromache.
[Rushing before Pyrrhus.] Your oath, O King! Your pledged hand! He is our guest!
Pyrrhus.
[Checking himself suddenly, then turning upon her.] Whose guest? You brought him here—you gave the barb to his mocking! [To the men.] Back, men! [To Andromache.] Who taught him to revile my house?
Andromache.
Nay, I have told him nothing.
Maid of Hermione.
He has been talking hours and hours with the Lady Andromache.
Andromache.
I know him not. I think he is mad.
Both Maids of Hermione.
Bewitched, perchance![Murmurs of assent and dissent.
[Pg 75]
Pyrrhus.
Peace, hounds! [To Orestes.] Sir Guest, this woman has saved you, else, oath or no oath, had I slain you where you stand!
Hermione.
[Starting from her stupefaction.] What is that in the bowl?
Pyrrhus.
What bowl?
Hermione.
The bowl of your blood-gifts. [Pointing to it.
Pyrrhus.
My blood-gifts! [Goes to the bowl; then turns furiously on Andromache.] Woman, who gave you this gold?
Andromache.
No man gave me gold. The stranger cast a pendant of his chain to add to the blood-gifts, for pity, lest the boy should be slain.
Pyrrhus.
Pity of the boy!—'Tis a plot—a plot to shame me past all enduring!
[Pg 76]
First Maid.
She witched the gold out of him!
Priest.
King, King, hear me! She has witched the Queen's womb long ago, and witched the whole harvest. She has this day witched your own boy to consent to your dishonour; she has witched this mad stranger to give her gold worth twenty oxen; yea, she has witched both him and you, so that he stands up and flouts you in your hall. You are stripped naked, O King, for men and dogs to walk upon, that Hector in his grave may be merry!—Judgment, O son of Achilles, judgment!
Andromache.
Yea, judgment, my King! I, too, crave judgment. Only let not these be my judges.
Priest.
Who is she to say how she shall be judged?
Andromache.
Judge me yourself, O Pyrrhus, son of Achilles! even now, in your anger; and I fear not. Oh, my King, you who know me, say if I have hated you!
[Pg 77]
Priest.
A witch has no right to speak. Let her be bound outside at the gate till she is judged.
Alcimedon.
Not speak? What law is this, Priest?
Priest.
Not a witch! She will bind the King's heart, so that he cannot judge her.
Pyrrhus.
[After a moment's hesitation.] By Zeus in heaven, it is the truth! I cannot judge her while she stands looking at me. Begone, woman!—Nay, touch her not!—Let her go to her own house.
Andromache.
I go, my King. Yet if you slay me and to-morrow wake sorrowful, bethink you there is no cure for that sorrow![Exit Andromache.
Molossus.
Mother, I will come too!
Alcimedon.
[Stopping Molossus at the door.] To sanctuary![Pg 78] Not to your own house! Take sanctuary, both, at the altar of Thetis, till his fury is over.[Exit Molossus.
Orestes.
[Who during the interruption has mounted on the bench, taken the suit of arms from the wall, and armed himself, here leaps down, picks up the lyre, and sings again—
"The son is viler, viler than the sire!"
Alcimedon.
The man is armed!
Orestes.
[Continuing amid general confusion.
"Achilles' son slew women and slew babes,
But quailed before the blood-wrath of a churl;
And stole another's bride; and fled, fled, fled!"
[Tumult in hall.
Alcimedon.
Down with him!
Pyrrhus.
Slay him not! Break his spear and thrust him out!
[Pg 79]
Orestes.
Will nothing sting you? Lo, mine was the bride he stole, and from me he fled! For he dared not face the wrath of Orestes, nor the spear of Agamemnon's son.
Pyrrhus.
Orestes!
Priest.
Is it Orestes?
Alcimedon.
He must have men behind him! To the watch-tower quick![Two retainers run out, r.
Hermione.
He lies, he lies! Do I not know Orestes?
Pyrrhus.
Is it not Orestes? Who is it?
Hermione.
This is some poor half-mad, wandering minstrel-man. I know him not. He is not Orestes!
A Voice from the Watch-Tower.
There are no men near the castle.
[Pg 80]
Alcimedon.
Well, strike him down!
Hermione.
What profit to break the guest-oath for such as he? He is not Orestes!
Pyrrhus.
Now the Furies that haunt Orestes dog you, woman, if you lie![Orestes gives a cry.
Priest.
If he be mad, it were a great sin to slay him. And the god has been strong in him to-day.
Hermione.
[After gazing at Orestes steadily.] May the Furies that haunt Orestes be ever with me if I lie. [Recklessly.] Is that enough? If you would have another oath, behold, I will go this night to the altar of Thetis——
Pyrrhus.
Hush, Queen, lest the goddess hear!
Hermione.
[Continuing.] And there by the altar I will swear oaths, and Thetis may work upon me what she will!
[Pg 81]
Pyrrhus.
Nay, daughter of Helen, no such wild words! I mistrust you not.—Guest, get you gone in peace.
Orestes.
[Subdued by mention of the Furies.] I go, not fearing you, but lest I see Them. I am no guest of yours. [Throwing down armour.] Take back your shield and helmet. Aught else I have had from your hands, my gold will more than repay [With horror.] Apollo, Averter of Evil! keep them back!—Oh, why did you not slay me while you might?[Exit Orestes.
A Retainer.
Shall we not stone him from the Court?
Priest.
He is possessed! Stricken of God! Touch him not if you fear the gods' anger.
Hermione.
[Terrified, staring in front of her.] No, no, I see nothing!
end of the second act.
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