Pyr. I call them all to mind; and see them all Confused in dust; all mixt in one wide ruin; All but a child, and he in bondage held. What vengeance can we fear from such a Troy? If they have sworn to extinguish Hector's race, Why was their vow for twelve long months deferred?

Why was he not in Priam's bosom slain? He should have fallen among the slaughtered heaps,

Whelmed under Troy. His death had then been just.

When age and infancy, alike in vain,

Pleaded their weakness; when the heat of conquest,

And horrors of the fight, roused all our rage,
And blindly hurried us through scenes of death,
My fury then was without bounds: but now,
My wrath appeased, must I be cruel still?
And, deaf to all the tender calls of pity,
Like a cool murderer, bathe my hands in blood;
An infant's blood?-No, prince-go, bid the
Greeks

Mark out some other victim; my revenge
Has had its fill. What has escaped from Troy
Shall not be saved to perish in Epirus.

Orest. I need not tell you, sir, Astyanax
Was doomed to death in Troy; nor mention how
The crafty mother saved her darling son:
The Greeks do now but urge their former sen-
tence;

Nor is't the boy, but Hector, they pursue;
The father, who so oft in Grecian blood
Has drenched his sword; the father, whom the
Greeks

May seek even here.-Prevent them, sir, in time. Pyr. No! let them come; since I was born to wage

Eternal war. Let them now turn their arms
On him, who conquered for them: let them come,
And in Epirus seek another Troy.

'Twas thus they recompensed my godlike sire; Thus was Achilles thank'd. But, prince, remember,

Their black ingratitude then cost them dear.
Orest. Shall Greece then find a rebel son in
Pyrrhus?

Pyr. Have I then conquered, to depend on
Greece?

Orest. Hermione will sway your soul to peace,
And mediate 'twixt her father and yourself:
Her beauty will enforce my embassy.

Pyr. Hermione may have her charms; and I
May love her still, though not her father's slave.
I may in time give proofs, that I'm a lover;
But never must forget, that I'm a king.
Meanwhile, sir, you may see fair Helen's daugh-
ter;

I know how near in blood you stand allied.
That done, you have my answer, prince. The
Greeks,

No doubt, expect your quick return.
[Er. OREST. &c.
Phan. Sir, do you send your rival to the prin-
cess?

Pyr. I'm told, that he has loved her long.
Phan. If so,

Have you not cause to fear the smother'd flame
May kindle at her sight, and blaze anew,
And she be brought to listen to his passion?

Pyr. Ay, let them, Phoenix, let them love their fill!

Let them go hence; let them depart together: Together let them sail for Sparta: all my ports Are open to them both. From what constraint, What irksome thoughts, should I be then relie ved!

Phan. But, sir,

Pyr. I shall, another time, good Phoenix, Unbosom to thee all my thoughts-for, see, Andromache appears.

Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA.
Pyr. May I, madam,

Flatter my hopes so far as to believe
You come to seek me here?

Andr. This way, sir, leads

To those apartments where you guard my son.
Since you permit me, once a day, to visit
All I have left of Hector and of Troy,
I go to weep a few sad moments with him.
I have not yet, to-day, embraced my child;
I have not held him in my widowed arms.

Pyr. Ah, madam, should the threats of Greece prevail,

You'll have occasion for your tears, indeed! Andr. Alas, what threats! What can alarm the Greeks?

There are no Trojans left!

Pyr. Their hate to Hector Can never die: the terror of his name Still shakes their souls, and makes them dread

his son.

Andr. A mighty honour for victorious Greece, To fear an infant, a poor friendless child; Who smiles in bondage, nor yét knows himself The son of Hector, and the slave of Pyrrhus.

Pyr. Weak as he is, the Greeks demand his life;

And send no less than Agamemnon's son,
To fetch him hence.

Andr. And, sir, do you comply
With such demands?-This blow is aimed at me:
How should the child avenge his slaughter'd sire?
But, cruel men! they will not have him live
To cheer my heavy heart, and ease my bonds.
I promised to myself in him a son,
In him a friend, a husband, and a father.
But I must suffer sorrow heaped on sorrow;
And still the fatal stroke must come from you.

Pyr. Dry up those tears, I must not see you

But, madam, in the midst of all these dangers,
Will you refuse me a propitious smile?
Hated of Greece, and prest on every side,
Let me not, madam, while I fight your cause,
Let me not combat with your cruelties,
And count Andromache amongst my foes!
Andr. Consider, sir, how this will sound in
Greece?

How can so great a soul betray such weakness?
Let not men say, so generous a design
Was but the transport of a heart in love.

Pyr. Your charms will justify me to the world.
Andr. How can Andromache, a captive queen,
O'erwhelmed with grief, a burthen to herself,
Harbour a thought of love? Alas! what charms
Have these unhappy eyes, by you condemned
To weep for ever? Talk of it no more.
To reverence the misfortunes of a foe;
To succour the distrest; to give the son
To an afflicted mother; to repel
Confederate nations, leagued against his life;
Unbribed by love, unterrified by threats,
To pity, to protect him,-these are cares,
These are exploits worthy Achilles' son.
Pyr. Will your resentments, then, endure for
ever?

Must Pyrrhus never be forgiven? "Tis true,
My sword has often reeked in Phrygian blood,
And carried havoc through your royal kindred;
But you, fair princess, amply have avenged
Old Priam's vanquished house, and all the woes
I brought on them, fall short of what I suffer.
We both have suffered in our turns: and now
Our common foe should teach us to unite.
Andr. Where does the captive not behold a foe?
Pyr. Forget the term of hatred, and behold
A friend in Pyrrhus! Give me but to hope!
I'll free your son; I'll be a father to him:
Myself will teach him to avenge the Trojans.
I'll go in person to chastise the Greeks,
Both for your wrongs and mine. Inspired by you,
What would I not achieve! Again shall Troy
Rise from its ashes: this right arm shall fix
Her seat of empire; and your son shall reign.
Andr. Such dreams of greatness suit not my
condition:

His hopes of empire perished with his father.
No; thou imperial city, ancient Troy,
Thou pride of Asia, founded by the gods!
Never, oh, never must we hope to see
Those bulwarks rise, which Hector could not
guard!-

Sir, all I wish for, is some quiet exile,
Where, far from Greece removed, and far from you,

I

may conceal my son, and mourn my husband. Your love creates me envy. Oh, return! Return to your betrothed Hermione.

Pyr. Why do you mock me thus? You know,
I cannot.

You know my heart is yours: my soul hangs on you:

You take up every wish: my waking thoughts, And nightly dreams, are all employed on you. 'Tis true, Hermione was sent to share

My throne and bed; and would with transport hear

The vows which you neglect.
Andr. She has no Troy,

No Hector to lament: she has not lost

A husband by your conquests. Such a husband! (Tormenting thought!) whose death alone has

made

Your sire immortal: Pyrrhus and Achilles
Are both grown great by my calamities.

Pyr. Madam, 'tis well! 'tis very well! I find, Your will must be obeyed. Imperious captive, It shall. Henceforth I blot you from my mind; You teach me to forget your charms; to hate

you:

For know, inhuman beauty, I have loved
Too well to treat you with indifference.
Think well upon it: my disordered soul
Wavers between the extremes of love and rage;
I've been too tame; I will awake to vengeance!
The son shall answer for the mother's scorn.
The Greeks demand him: nor will I endanger
My realms to pleasure an ungrateful woman.
Andr. Then he must die! Alas! my son must
die!

He has no friend, no succour left, beside
His mother's tears, and his own innocence.
Pyr. Go, madam; visit this unhappy son.
The sight of him may bend your stubborn heart,
And turn to softness your unjust disdain.
I shall once more expect your answer. Go,
And think, while you embrace the captive boy,
Think that his life depends on your resolves.

[Exeunt PYRRHUS, &c.
Andr. I'll go, and in the anguish of my heart,
Weep o'er my child-If he must die, my life
Is wrapt in his; I shall not long survive.
'Tis for his sake that I have suffered life,
Groaned in captivity, and out-lived Hector.
Yes, my Astyanax, we'll go together!
Together to the realms of night we'll go !
There to thy ravished eyes thy sire I'll shew,
And point him out among the shades below.

[Exit.

And often praised his constancy and love?
Her. That love, that constancy, so ill requited,
Upbraids me to myself! I blush to think
How I have used him; and would shun his pre-

sence.

What will be my confusion when he sees me
Neglected, and forsaken, like himself?
Will he not say, Is this the scornful maid,
The proud Hermione, that tyrannized

In Sparta's court, and triumphed in her charms? Her insolence at last is well repaid.' I cannot bear the thought!

Cleo. You wrong yourself

With unbecoming fears. He knows too well Your beauty and your worth. Your lover comes not

To offer insults; but to repeat his vows,

And breathe his ardent passion at your feet.
But, madam, what's your royal father's will?
What orders do your letters bring from Sparta?
Her. His orders are, if Pyrrhus still deny
The nuptials, and refuse to sacrifice
This Trojan boy, I should with speed embark,
And with their embassy return to Greece.
Cleo. What would you more? Orestes comes
in time

To save your honour. Pyrrhus cools apace:
Prevent his falsehood, and forsake him first.
I know you hate him: you have told me so.
Her. Hate him! My injured honour bids me
hate him.

The ungrateful man, to whom I fondly gave
My virgin heart; the man I loved so dearly;
The man I doated on! Oh! my Cleone!
How is it possible I should not hate him!

Cleo. Then give him over, madam. Quit his
court;

And with Orestes

Her. No! I must have time

To work up all my rage! To meditate
A parting full of horror! My revenge
Will be but too much quickened by the traitor.
Cleo. Do you then wait new insults, new af-
fronts?

To draw you from your father! Then to leave you!
In his own court to leave you-For a captive!
If Pyrrhus can provoke you, he has done it.
Her. Why dost thou heighten my distress?

I fear

To search out my own thoughts, and sound my heart.

Be blind to what thou seest: believe me cured:
Flatter my weakness; tell me I have conquered;
Think that my injured soul is set against him;
And do thy best to make me think so too.

Cleo. Why would you loiter here, then?
Her. Let us fly!

Let us begone! I leave him to his captive:
Let him go kneel, and supplicate his slave.
Let us begone!-but what if he repent?
What if the perjured prince again submit,
And sue for pardon? What if he renew
His former vows? But, oh, the faithless man!
He slights me! drives me to extremities!-How-
ever,

I'll stay, Cleone, to perplex their loves;
I'll stay till, by an open breach of contract,
I make him hateful to the Greeks. Already
Their vengeance have I drawn upon the son
Their second embassy shall claim the mother:
I will redouble all my griefs on her !

Cleo. Ah, madam, whither does your rage transport you?

Andromache, alas! is innocent.

A woman plunged in sorrow; dead to love:
And when she thinks on Pyrrhus, 'tis with horror.
Her. Would I had done so too! he had not then
Betrayed my easy faith. But I, alas!
Discovered all the fondness of my soul!
I made no secret of my passion to him,
Nor thought it dangerous to be sincere :
My eyes, my tongue, my actions spoke my heart.
Cleo. Well might you speak without reserve

to one,

Engaged to you by solemn oaths and treaties.

Her, His ardour too was an excuse for mine: With other eyes he saw me then! Cleone, Thou mayst remember, every thing conspired To favour him: my father's wrongs avenged; The Creeks triumphant; fleets of Trojan spoils His mighty sire's, his own immortal fame; His eager love; all, all conspired against me; -But I have done: I'll think no more of Pyrrhus. Orestes wants not merit; and he loves me. My gratitude, my honour, both plead for him: And if I've power o'er my own heart, 'tis his. Cleo. Madam, he comesHer. Alas, I did not think

He was so near! I wish I might not see him.
Enter ORESTES.

How am I to interpret, sir, this visit?
Is it a compliment of form or love?

Orest. Madam, you know my weakness. 'Tis my fate

To love unpitied: to desire to see you,
And still to swear each time shall be the last.
My passion breaks through my repeated oaths,
And every time I visit you I'm perjured.
Even now, I find my wounds all bleed afresh:
I blush to own it; but I know no cure.
I call the gods to witness, I have tried
Whatever man could do (but tried in vain),
To wear you from my mind. Through stormy

Orest. I now prepare for Greece. But ere I go, Would hear my final doom pronounced by you. What do I say-I do already hear it! My doom is fixed: I read it in your eyes.

Her. Will you then still despair? be still suspicious?

What have I done? Wherein have I been cruel?
'Tis true, you find me in the court of Pyrrhus :
But 'twas my royal father sent me hither,
And who can tell but I have shared your griefs?
Have I ne'er wept in secret? Never wished
To see Orestes?

Orest. Wished to see Orestes !-
Oh, joy! oh ecstacy! my soul's entranced!
Oh, charming princess! Oh, transcendent maid!
My utmost wish!-Thus, thus let me express
My boundless thanks !—I never was unhappy-
Am I Orestes ?-

Her. You are Orestes,

The same unaltered, generous, faithful lover; The prince whom I esteem; whom I lament; And whom I fain would teach my heart to love! Orest. Ay, there it is!-I have but your esteem,

While Pyrrhus has your heart!

Her. Believe me, prince,

Were you as Pyrrhus, I should hate you!
Orest. No!

I should be blest! I should be loved as he is!-
Yet all this while I die by your disdain,
While he neglects your charms, and courts an-
other.

Her. And who has told you, prince, that I'm neglected?

Has Pyrrhus said- (Oh, I shall go distracted!)
Has Pyrrhus told you so?-
-Or is it you,
Who think thus meanly of me?-Sir, perhaps,
All do not judge like you.

Orest. Madam, go on!

Her. Then hear me, prince. Obedience to a
father

First brought me hither; and the same obedience
Detains me here, till Pyrrhus drive me hence,
Or my offended father shall recall me.
Tell this proud king, that Menelaus scorns
To match his daughter with a foe of Greece;
Bid him resign Astyanax, or me.

If he persists to guard the hostile boy,
Hermione embarks with you for Sparta.

[Exeunt HER. and CLEONE.
Orest. Then is Orestes blest! My griefs are fled!
Fled like a dream!—Methinks I tread in air!
Pyrrhus, enamoured of his captive queen,
Will thank me, if I take her rival hence:
He looks not on the princess with my eyes.
Surprising happiness!-Unlooked-for joy!
Never let love despair!—the prize is mine!
Be smooth, ye seas! and ye, propitious winds,
Breathe from Epirus to the Spartan coasts!
I long to view the sails unfurled!-But, see!
Pyrrhus approaches in a happy hour.

Enter PYRRHUS, and PHŒNIX. Pyr. I was in pain to find you, prince. My

warm

Ungoverned temper would not let me weigh
The importance of your embassy, and hear
You argue for my good.-I was to blame.
I since have poised your reasons; and I thank
My good allies: their care deserves my thanks.
You have convinced me, that the weal of Greece,
My father's honour, and my own repose,
Demand that Hector's race should be destroyed.
I shall deliver up Astyanax;

And you, yourself, shall bear the victim hence.

Orest. If you approve it, sir, and are content To spill the blood of a defenceless child, The offended Greeks, no doubt, will be appeased.

Pyr. Closer to strain the knot of our alliance, I have determined to espouse Hermione. You come in time to grace our nuptial rites: In you the kings of Greece will all be present; And you have right to personate her father, As his ambassador, and brother's son. Go, prince, renew your visit; tell Hermione, To-morrow I receive her from your hands. Orest. [Aside.] Oh, change of fortune! Oh, undone Orestes! [Exit ORESTES. Pyr. Well, Phoenix, am I still a slave to love? What think'st thou now? Am I myself again? Phan. 'Tis as it should be: this discovers

What ruin have I shunned! The Greeks, enraged,
Hung o'er me like a gathering storm, and soon
Had burst in thunder on my head; while I
Abandoned duty, empire, honour, all,
To please a thankless woman!-One kind look
Had quite undone me!

Phan. Oh, my royal master!

The gods, in favour to you, made her cruel. Pyr. Thou saw'st with how much scorn she treated me!

When I permitted her to see her son,

I hoped it might have worked her to my wishes. I went to see the mournful interview,

And found her bathed in tears, and lost in pas

sion.

Wild with distress, a thousand times she called
On Hector's name: and when I spoke in comfort,
And promised my protection to her son,
She kissed the boy; and called again on Hector:
Then, strained him in her arms; and cried, "Fis
he!

'Tis he himself! his eyes, his very features!
His very frown, and his stern look already!
'Tis he: 'Tis my loved lord whom I embrace!'
Does she then think, that I preserve the boy,
To sooth, and keep alive her flame for Hector?
Phan. No doubt, she does; and thinks you

favoured in it;

But let her go, for an ungrateful woman!

Pyr. I know the thoughts of her proud stubborn heart:

Vain of her charms, and insolent in beauty, She mocks my rage; and, when it threatens loudest,

Expects 'twill soon be humbled into love.
But we shall change our parts; and she shall
find

I can be deaf, like her; and steel my heart.
She's Hector's widow; I Achilles' son;
Pyrrhus is born to hate Andromache.

Phan. My royal master, talk of her no more; I do not like this anger. Your Hermione Should now engross your thoughts, "Tis time to see her;

'Tis time you should prepare the nuptial rites, And not rely upon a rival's care; It may be dangerous.

Pyr. But tell me, Phoenix, Dost thou not think, the proud Andromache Will be enraged, when I shall wed the princess? Phan, Why does Andromache still haunt your thoughts?

What is't to you, be she enraged or pleased? Let her name perish: think of her no more. Pyr, No, Phoenix!-I have been too gentle

with her,

| I've checked my wrath, and stifled my resent

ment:

She knows not yet to what degree I hate her.
Let us return:I'll brave her to her face:
I'll give my anger its free course against her.
Thou shalt see, Phoenix, how I'll break her pride!
Phan. Oh, go not, sir!-There's ruin in her
eyes!

You do not know your strength: you'll fall before her,

Adore her beauty, and revive her scorn.

Pyr. That were indeed a most unmanly weak

ness;

Thou dost not know me, Phoenix,

Phan. Ah, my prince!

You are still struggling in the toils of love!
Pyr. Canst thou then think I love this woman
still?

One who repays my passion with disdain;
A stranger, captive, friendless, and forlorn;
She and her darling son within my power;
His life a forfeit to the Greeks? Yet I
Preserve her son: would take her to my throne;
Would fight her battles, and avenge her wrongs;
And all this while she treats me as her foe!

Phan. You have it in your power to be revenged.

Pyr. Yes; and I'll shew my power! I'll give her cause

To hate me! her Astyanax shall die!—————— What tears will then be shed! How will she

then,

In bitterness of heart, reproach my name!
Then, to complete her woes, will I espouse
Hermione: Twill stab her to the heart!

Phan. Alas, you. threaten like a lover still! Pyr. Phoenix, excuse this struggle of my soul: 'Tis the last effort of expiring love.

Phan. Then hasten, sir, to see the Spartan princess,

And turn the bent of your desires on her.

Pyr. Oh! 'tis a heavy task to conquer love, And wean the soul from her accustomed fond

ness.

But, come!-A long farewell to Hector's widow.
'Tis with a secret pleasure I look back,
And see the many dangers I have passed.
The merchant thus, in dreadful tempests tost,
Thrown by the waves on some unlooked-for coast,
Oft turns, and sees, with a delighted'eye,
Midst rocks and shelves the broken billows fly;
And, while the outrageous winds the deep deform,
Smiles on the tunult, and enjoys the storm.

[Exeunt>