SCENE 1.

Enter PYLADES and ORESTES.

Orest. Talk no more!

ruffled mind,

And moderate your rage!

Orest. No, Pylades!

This is no time for counsel.

-I am deaf.

Talk not of reason! I have been too patient. Life is not worth my care. My soul grows desperate.

I'll bear her off, or perish in the attempt.
I'll force her from his arms:-By Heaven I will!
Pyl. Well, 'tis agreed, my friend :-We'll force
her hence,

But still consider, we are in Epirus.
The court, the guards, Hermione herself,
The very air we breathe, belongs to Pyrrhus.
Good gods! what tempted you to seek her here!
Orest. Lost to myself, I knew not what I did.
My purposes were wild. Perhaps I came
To menace Pyrrhus, and upbraid the woman.
Pyl. This violence of temper may prove fatal.
Orest. It must be more than man to bear these
shocks,

These outrages of fate, with temper!
He tells me, that he weds Hermione;
And will to-morrow take her from my hand!—
My hand shall sooner tear the tyrant's heart.—
Pyl. Your passion blinds you, sir; he's not to
blame.

Could you but look into the soul of Pyrrhus,
Perhaps you'd find it tortured, like your own.
Orest. No, Pylades! 'Tis all design-His pride,
To triumph over me, has changed his love.
The fair Hermione, before I came,

In all her bloom of beauty, was neglected.
Ah, cruel gods! I thought her all my own!
She was consenting to return to Sparta:
Her heart, divided betwixt rage and love,
Was on the wing to take its leave of Pyrrhus.
She heard my sighs; she pitied my complaints;
She praised my constancy; -The least indif-

ference,

From this proud king, had made Orestes happy.
Pyl. So your fond heart believes.
Orest. Did I not see

Her hate, her rage, her indignation rise
Against the ungrateful man?

Pyl. Believe me, prince,

'Twas then she loved him most. Had Pyrrhus

left her,

She would have formed some new pretext to stay. Take my advice:-Think not to force her hence; But fly yourself from her destructive charms. Her soul is linked to Pyrrhus: Were she yours, She would reproach you still, and still regret Her disappointed nuptials.-

I'll snatch her hence, and bear her to my ships;
Have we forgot her mother Helen's rape?
Pyl. Will then Orestes turn a ravisher,
And blot his embassy?

Orest. Oh, Pylades!

My grief weighs heavy on me :-'Twill distract me!

O leave me to myself!-Let not thy friendship,
Involve thee in my woes. Too long already,
Too long hast thou been punished for my crimes.
It is enough, my friend!It is enough!
Let not thy generous love betray thee farther:
The gods have set me as their mark, to empty
Their quivers on me.-Leave me to myself.
Mine be the danger; mine the enterprise.
All I request of thee is, to return,
And, in my place, convey Astyanax
(As Pyrrhus has consented) into Greece.
Go, Pylades→→

Pyl. Lead on, my friend, lead on!
Let us bear off Hermione! No toil,
No danger can deter a friend :-Lead on!
Draw up the Greeks; summon your numerous
train:

The ships are ready, and the wind sits fair: There eastward lies the sea; the rolling waves Break on those palace-stairs. I know each pass, Each avenue and outlet of the court.

This very night we'll carry her on board.

Orest. Thou art too good! I trespass on thy friendship,

But, oh! excuse a wretch, whom no man pitics,
Except thyself: one just about to lose
The treasure of his soul: whom all mankind
Conspire to hate, and one who hates himself.
When will my friendship be of use to thee?

Pyl. The question is unkind. But now re

member

Orest. And are you, madam, willing to com ply?

Her. Could I imagine Pyrrhus loved me still!
After so long delays, who would have thought
His hidden flames would shew themselves at last,
And kindle in his breast, when mine expired?
I can suppose, with you, he fears the Greeks;
That it is interest, and not love, directs him;
And that my eyes had greater power o'er you.
Orest. No, princess, no! It is too plain he
loves you.

Your eyes do what they will, and cannot fail
To gain a conquest, where you wish they should.
Her. What can I do? Alas! my faith is
mised.

pro

All have a right to please themselves in love: I blame not you. "Tis true, I hoped-but you Are mistress of your heart, and I'm content. 'Tis fortune is my enemy, not you. But, madam, I shall spare you farther pain On this uneasy theme, and take my leave. [Exit ORESTES. Her. Cleone, could'st thou think he'd be so calm ?

Cleo. Madam, his silent grief sits heavy on him

He's to be pitied. His too eager love
Has made him busy to his own destruction.
His threats have wrought this change of mind in
Pyrrhus.

Her. Dost thou think Pyrrhus capable of fear! Whom should the intrepid Pyrrhus fear? the Greeks?

Did he not lead their harassed troop to conquest,

When they despaired, when they retired from
Troy,

And sought for shelter in their burning fleets?
Did he not then supply his father's place?
No, my Cleone, he's above constraint;

He acts unforced; and where he weds he loves.
Cleo. Oh, that Orestes had remained in Greece!
I fear to-morrow will prove fatal to him.

Her. Wilt thou discourse of nothing but
Orestes?

Pyrrhus is mine again !-Is mine for ever!
Oh, my Cleone! I am wild with joy!
Pyrrhus, the bold! the brave! the godlike Pyrr-

hus!

-Oh, I could tell thee numberless exploits, And tire thee with his battles-Oh, CleoneCleo. Madam, conceal your joy—I see Andromache:

She weeps, and comes to speak her sorrows to

you.

Her. I would indulge the gladness of my heart! Let us retire: her grief is out of season.

Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA,
Andr. Ah, madam, whither, whither do you fly?
Where can your eyes behold a sight more plea-
sing

Than Hector's widow suppliant and in tears?
I come not an alarmed, a jealous foe,
To envy you the heart your charms have won :
The only man I sought to please, is gone;
Killed in my sight, by an inhuman hand.
Hector first taught me love; which my fond heart
Shall ever cherish, 'till we meet in death.
But, oh! I have a son!-And you, one day,
Will be no stranger to a mother's fondness:
But Heaven forbid that you should ever know
A mother's sorrow for an only son,

Her joy, her bliss, her last surviving comfort,
When every hour she trembles for his life!
Your power o'er Pyrrhus may relieve my fears.
Alas! what danger is there in a child,
Saved from the wreck of a whole ruined empire?
Let me go hide him in some desert isle:
You may rely upon my tender care
To keep him far from perils of ambition:
All he can learn of me will be to weep.

Her. Madam, 'tis easy to conceive your grief:
But it would ill become me to solicit
In contradiction to my father's will:
'Tis he who urges to destroy your son.
Madam, if Pyrrhus must be wrought to pity,
No woman does it better than yourself;
If you gain him, I shall comply of course.

[Exeunt HER. and CLEONE. Andr. Didst thou not mind with what disdain she spoke?

Youth and prosperity have made her vain;
She has not seen the fickle turns of life.

Ceph. Madam, were I as you, I'd take her

Pyr. Come, let us satisfy

The Greeks, and give them up this Phrygian boy. Andr. Ah, sir! recall those words--What have you said!

If you give up my son, oh, give up me! You, who so many times have sworn me friendship:

Oh, Heavens-Will you not look with pity on me?

Is there no hope? Is there no room for pardon? Pyr. Phoenix will answer you: my word is past. Andr. You, who would brave so many dangers for me!

Pyr. I was your lover then: I now am free. To favour you, I might have spared his life: But you would ne'er vouchsafe to ask it of me. Now, 'tis too late.

Andr. Ah, sir, you understood

My tears, my wishes, which I durst not utter,
Afraid of a repulse. Oh, sir, excuse
The pride of royal blood, that checks my soul.
You know, alas! I was not born to kneel,
To sue for pity, and to own a master.

Pyr. No! in your heart you curse me! you disdain

My generous flame, and scorn to be obliged!
This very son, this darling of your soul,
Would be less dear, did I preserve him for you.
Your anger, your aversion fall on me!
You hate me more than the whole league of
Greece:

But I shall leave you to your great resentments.
Let us go, Phoenix, and appease the Greeks.
Andr. Then, let me die! and let me go to
Hector!

Ceph. But, madam

Andr. What can I do more? The tyrant Sees my distraction, and insults my tears.

[To CEPH.
-Behold how low you have reduced a queen!
These eyes have seen my country laid in ashes;
My kindred fall in war; my father slain;
My husband dragged in his own blood; my son
Condemned to bondage, and myself a slave:
Yet, in the midst of these unheard-of woes,
"Twas some relief to find myself your captive;
And that my son, derived from ancient kings,
Since he must serve, had Pyrrhus for his master.
When Priam kneeled, the great Achilles wept:
I hoped I should not find his son less noble;
I thought the brave were still the most compas-
sionate.

Oh, do not, sir, divide me from my child!
If he must die-

Pyr. Phoenix, withdraw a while.

[Exit PHOENIX.
Rise, madam-Yet you may preserve your son.
I find whenever I provoke your tears,
I furnish you with arms against myself.
I thought my hatred fixed before I saw you.
Oh, turn your eyes upon me, while I speak,
And see, if you discover in my looks
An angry judge, or an obdurate foe!

Why will you force me to desert your cause?
In your son's name I beg we may be friends;
VOL. I.

Let me intreat you to secure his life!
Must I turn suppliant for him! Think, oh think,
'Tis the last time, you both may yet be happy!
I know the ties I break; the foes I arm:
I wrong Hermione; I send her hence;
And with her diadem I bind your brows.
Consider well; for 'tis of moment to you!
Chuse to be wretched, madam, or a queen.
My soul, consumed with a whole year's despair,
Can bear no longer these perplexing doubts;
I know, if I'm deprived of you, I die:
But oh, I die, if I wait longer for you!
I leave you to your thoughts. When I return,
We'll to the temple; there you'll find your son;
And there be crowned, or give him up for ever.
[Exit PYRRHUS.

Ceph. I told you, madam, that, in spite of

Greece,

You would o'er-rule the malice of your fortune, Andr. Alas! Cephisa, what have I obtained! Only a poor short respite for my son.

Ceph. You have chough approved your faith to Hector;

To be reluctant still would be a crime.
He would himself persuade you to comply.
Andr. How wouldst thou give me Pyrrhus
for a husband?

Ceph. Think you, 'twill please the ghost of your dead husband,

That you should sacrifice his son? Consider,
Pyrrhus once more invites you to a throne;
Turns all his power against the foes of Troy;
Remembers not Achilles was his father;
Retracts his conquests, and forgets his hatred.

Andr. But how can I forget it! How can I
Forget my Hector, treated with dishonour;
Deprived of funeral rites; and vilely dragged,
A bloody corse, about the walls of Troy?
Can I forget the good old king his father,
Slain in my presence; at the altar slain,
Which vainly, for protection, he embraced?
Hast thou forgot that dreadful night, Cephisa,
When a whole people fell? Methinks I see
Pyrrhus, enraged, and breathing vengeance, enter
Amidst the glare of burning palaces:

I see him hew his passage through my brothers; And, bathed in blood, lay all my kindred waste. Think, in this scene of horror, what I suffered! This is the courtship I received from Pyrrhus; And this the husband thou wouldst give me! No, We both will perish first! I'll ne'er consent.

Ceph. Since you resolve Astyanax shall die, Haste to the temple, bid your son farewell. Why do you tremble, madam?

Andr. O Cephisa!

Thou hast awakened all the inother in me.
How can I bid farewell to the dear child,
The pledge, the image of my much-loved lord!
Alas, I call to mini the fatal day,
When his too-forward courage led him forth
To seek Achilles.

Ceph. Oh, the unhappy hour!

'Twas then Troy fell, and all her gods forsoo

her.

Andr. That morn, Cephisa, that ill-fated m o

2 T

Orest. It shall be done-my soul has caught the alarm.

We'll spirit up the Greeks-I'll lead them on-
Your cause shall animate our fleets and armies.
Let us return! let us not lose a moment,
But urge the fate of this devoted land!
Let us depart.

Her. No, prince, let us stay here!

I will have vengeance here-I will not carry
This load of infamy to Greece, nor trust
The chance of war to vindicate my wrongs.
Ere I depart, I'll make Epirus mourn.
If you avenge me, let it be this instant;

My rage brooks no delay-Haste to the temple,
Haste, prince, and sacrifice him!

Orest. Whom!

Her. Why, Pyrrhus.

Orest. Pyrrhus! Did you say, Pyrrhus?
Her. You demur!

Oh, fly, begone! give me no time to think!
Talk not of laws-he tramples on all laws-
Let me not hear him justified-away!

Orest. You cannot think I'll justify my rival.
Madam, your love has made him criminal.
You shall have vengeance; I'll have vengeance

too:

But let our hatred be profest and open :
Let us alarm all Greece, denounce a war;
Let us attack him in his strength, and hunt him
down

By conquest: should I turn base assassin,
'Twould sully all the kings I represent.

Her. Have I not been dishonoured! set at nought!

Exposed to public scorn!-and will you suffer The tyrant, who dares use me thus, to live?

Know, prince, I hate him more than once I loved him;

The gods alone can tell how once I loved him!
Yes, the false perjured man, I once did love him;
And spite of all his crimes and broken vows,
If he should live, I may relapse-who knows,
But I to-morrow may forgive his wrongs?

Orest. First let me tear him piece-mcal--he shall die.

But, madam, give me leisure to contrive
The place, the time, the manner of his death:
Yet I'm a stranger in the court of Pyrrhus;
Scarce have I set my foot within Epirus,
When you enjoin me to destroy the prince.
It shall be done this very night.

Her. But now,

This very hour, he weds Andromache;
The temple shines with pomp; the golden

throne

Is now prepared; the joyful rites begin;
My shame is public-Öh, be speedy, prince!
My wrath's impatient-Pyrrhus lives too long!
Intent on love, and heedless of his person,
He covers with his guards the Trojan boy.
Now is the time! assemble all your Greeks;
Mine shall assist them; let their fury loose :
Already they regard him as a foc.

Begone, Orestes-kill the faithless tyrant:
My love shall recompense the glorious deed.
Orest. Consider, madam-

Her. You but mock my rage
e!

I was contriving how to make you happy.
Think you to merit by your idle sighs,
And not attest your love by one brave action?
Go, with your boasted constancy! and leave
Hermione to execute her own revenge!

I blush to think how my too easy faith
Has twice been baffled in one shameful hour!
Orest. Hear me but speak!—you know I'll

die to serve you!

Her. I'll go myself: I'll stab him at the altar; Then drive the poniard, reeking with his blood, Through my own heart. In death we shall unite:

Better to die with him, than live with you! Orest. That were to make him blest, and me

more wretched: Madam, he dies by me :-Have you a foe, And shall I let him live? My rival, too? Ere yon meridian sun declines, he dies: And you shall say, that I deserve your love. Her. Go, prince: strike home! and leave the

rest to me.

Let all your ships be ready for our flight.

[Erit ORESTES. Cleo. Madam, you'll perish in this bold attempt.

Her. Give me my vengeance, I'm content to perish.

I was to blame to trust it with another: [
In my own hands it had been more secure.
Orestes hates not Pyrrhus as I hate him:

I should have thrust the dagger home; hav

seen