The tyrant curse me with his panting breath,
And roll about his dying eyes, in vain,
To find Andromache, whom I would hide.
Oh, would Orestes, when he gives the blow,
Tell him he dies my victim!-Haste, Cleone;
Charge him to say, Hermione's resentments,
Not those of Greece, have sentenced him to
death.

Haste, my Cleone! My revenge is lost,
If Tyrrhus knows not that he dies by me!
Cleo. I shall obey your orders-But
The king approach!-Who could expect him

here?

see

Her. O fly! Cleone, fly! and bid Orestes Not to proceed a step before I see him. [Exit CLEONE.

Enter PYRRHUS.

Pyr, Madam, I ought to shun an injured prin

cess:

:

Your distant looks reproach me and I come,
Not to defend, but to avow my guilt.
Pyrrhus will ne'er approve his own injustice;
Nor form excuses, while his heart condemns him.
I might perhaps allege, our warlike sires,
Unknown to us, engaged us to each other,
And joined our hearts by contract, not by love:
But I detest such cobweb arts; I own
My father's treaty, and allow its force.
I sent ambassadors to call you hither;
Received you as my queen; and hoped my
oaths,

So oft renewed, might ripen into love.
The gods can witness, madam, how I fought
Against Andromache's too fatal charms!
And still I wish I had the power to leave
This Trojan beauty, and be just to you.
Discharge your anger on this perjur'd man!
For I abhor my crime, and should be pleased
To hear you speak your wrongs aloud: no terms,
No bitterness of wrath, nor keen reproach,
Will equal half the upbraidings of my heart.

Her. I find, sir, you can be sincere: you scorn
To act your crimes with fear, like other men.
A hero should be bold; above all laws;
Be bravely false; and laugh at solemn ties.
To be perfidious shews a daring mind!
And you have nobly triumphed o'er a maid.
To court me; to reject me; to return;
Then to forsake me for a Phrygian slave:
To lay proud Troy in ashes; then to raise
The son of Hector, and renounce the Greeks,
Are actions worthy the great soul of Pyrrhus.
Pyr. Madam, go on: give your resentments
birth;

And pour forth all your indignation on me.
Her. Twould please your queen, should I up-
braid your falsehood;

Call you perfidious, traitor, all the names
That injured virgins lavish on your sex ;
I should o'erflow with tears, and die with grief,
And furnish out a tale to sooth her pride.
But, sir, I would not over-charge her joys:
If you would charm Andromache, recount

Should not object those ills the mother caused.
However I am pleased to find you hate me:
I was too forward to accuse myself;

The man, who ne'er was loved, can ne'er be false.

Obedience to a father brought you hither; And I stood bound by promise to receive you: But our desires were different ways inclined; And you, I own, were not obliged to love me.

Her. Have I not loved you, then? perfidious

man!

For you I slighted all the Grecian princes; Forsook my father's house; concealed my wrongs, When most provoked; would not return to Sparta,

In hopes that time might fix your wavering heart.
I loved you when inconstant: and even now,
Inhuman king, that you pronounce my death,
My heart still doubts, if I should love or hate
you:

But oh, since you resolve to wed another,
Defer your cruel purpose till to-morrow!
This is the last request I e'er shall make you-
See if the barbarous prince vouchsafes an an-
swer!

Go, then, to the loved Phrygian! Hence! begone!

And bear to her those vows, that once were mine:

Go, in defiance of the avenging gods!
Begone! the priest expects you at the altar--
But, tyrant, have a care I come not thither.

Enter PHENIX.

[Exit HER.

Pha. Sir, did you mind her threats? Your life's in danger!

There is no trifling with a woman's rage.
The Greeks, that swarm about the court, all hate
you;

Will treat you as their country's enemy,
And join in her revenge: besides, Orestes
Still loves her to distraction: sir, I beg

Pyr. How, Phoenix! should I fear a woman's threats?

A nobler passion takes up all my thought:
I must prepare to meet Andromache.
Do thou place all my guards about her son:
If he be safe, Pyrrhus is free from fear.

PHENIX alone.

[Erit PYR.

Oh Pyrrhus! oh, what pity 'tis, the gods,

Should leave thee so exposed to wild desires,
That hurry thee beyond the bounds of reason!
[A flourish of trumpets.
Such was Achilles; generous, fierce, and brave,
Open and undesigning: but impatient,
Undisciplined, and not to be controuled.
I fear the whirl of passion, this career,
That overbears reflection and cool thought;
I tremble for the event! But see, the queen,
Magnificent in royal pride, appears.
I must obey, and guard her son from danger.
[Exit PHOENIX.

Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA. Ceph. Madam, once more you look and move a queen!

Your sorrows are dispersed, your charms revive, And every faded beauty blooms anew.

Andr. Yet all is not as I could wish, Cephisa. Ceph. You see the king is watchful o'er your

son;

Decks him with princely robes, with guards surrounds him.

Astyanax begins to reign already.

Andr. Pyrrhus is nobly minded: and I fain Would live to thank him for Astyanax: 'Tis a vain thought-However, since my child Has such a friend, I ought not to repine.

Ceph. These dark unfoldings of your soul perplex me.

What meant those floods of tears, those warm embraces,

As if you bid your son adieu for ever? For Heaven's sake, madam, let me know your griefs!

If you mistrust my faith

Andr. That were to wrong thee. Oh, my Cephisa! this gay, borrowed air, This blaze of jewels, and this bridal dress, Are but mock trappings to conceal my woe: My heart still mourns; I still am Hector's widow. Ceph. Will you then break the promise given to Pyrrhus,

Blow up his rage afresh, and blast your hopes? Andr. I thought, Cephisa, thou hadst known thy mistress.

Could'st thou believe I would be false to Hector?
Fall off from such a husband! break his rest,
And call him to this hated light again,
To see Andromache in Pyrrhus' arms?
Would Hector, were he living, and I dead,
Forget Andromache, and wed her foe?
Ceph. I cannot guess what drift your thoughts

pursue;

But, oh, I fear there's something dreadful in it!
Must then Astyanax be doomed to die,
And you to linger out a life of bondage?
Andr. Nor this, nor that, Cephisa, will I bear;
My word is past to Pyrrhus, his to me;
And I rely upon his promised faith.
Unequal as he is, I know him well :
Pyrrhus is violent, but he's sincere,

And will perform beyond what he has sworn. The Greeks will but incense him more; their

rage

Will make him cherish Hector's son.
Ceph. Ah, madam,

Explain these riddles to my boding heart!
Andr. Thou may'st remember, for thou oft
hast heard me

Relate the dreadful vision, which I saw,
When first I landed captive in Epirus;
That every night, as in a dream I lay,
A ghastly figure, full of gaping wounds,
His eyes aglare, his hair all stiff with blood,
Full in my sight thrice shook his head, and
groaned.

I soon discerned my slaughtered Hector's shade; But, oh, how changed! Ye gods, how much unlike

The living Hector! Loud he bid me fly!
Fly from Achilles' son! then sternly frowned,
And disappeared. Struck with the dreadful

sound,

I started and awaked.
Ceph. But did he bid you
Destroy Astyanax?

Andr. Cephisa, I'll preserve him;

With my own life, Cephisa, I'll preserve him. Ceph. What may these words, so full of horror, mean?

Andr. Know, then, the secret purpose of my soul:

Andromache will not be false to Pyrrhus,
Nor violate her sacred love to Hector.
This hour I'll meet the king; the holy priest
Shall join us, and confirm our mutual vows:
This will secure a father to my child:

That done, I have no farther use for life:
This pointed dagger, this determined hand,
Shall save my virtue, and conclude my woes.

Ceph. Ah, madam! recollect your scattered

reason;

This fell despair ill suits your present fortunes. Andr. No other stratagem can serve my pur pose:

This is the sole expedient to be just
To Hector, to Astyanax, to Pyrrhus.
I shall soon visit Hector, and the shades
Of my great ancestors: Cephisa, thou
Wilt lend a hand to close thy mistress' eyes?
Ceph. Oh, never think that I will stay behind
you!

Andr. No, my Cephisa; I must have thee live.
Remember, thou didst promise to obey,
And to be secret: wilt thou now betray me?
After thy long, thy faithful service, wilt thou
Refuse my last commands, my dying wish?
Once more I do conjure thee, live for me.

Ceph. Life is not worth my care when you are

Defrauded of his promised happiness?

serve

The first impetuous onsets of his grief;
Use every artifice to keep him stedfast.
Sometimes with tears thou may'st discourse of

me;

Speak of our marriage; let him think I loved him;

Tell him my soul reposed itself on him,
When I resigned my son to his protection.
Ceph. Oh, for a spirit to support my grief!
Is there aught more before you go for ever?
Andr. Oh, my Cephisa! my swoln heart is
full!

I have a thousand farewells to my son:
But tears break in! Grief interrupts my speech-
-My soul o'erflows in fondness-let him know
I died to save him, and would die again.
Season his mind with early hints of glory;
Make him acquainted with his ancestors;
Trace out their shining story in his thoughts;
Dwell on the exploits of his immortal father,
And sometimes let him hear his mother's name.
Let him reflect upon his royal birth
With modest pride; Pyrrhus will prove a friend:
But let him know he has a conqueror's right.
He must be taught to stifle his resentments,
And sacrifice his vengeance to his safety.
Should he prove headstrong, rash, or unadvised,
He then will frustrate all his mother's virtue,
Provoke his fate, and I shall die in vain.

Ceph. Alas! I fear I never shall outlive you.
Andr. No more: thy tears, Cephisa, will be-
tray me;

Assume a cheerful look, but still remember[Flourish within. Hark how the trumpet, with its sprightly notes, Proclaims the appointed hour, and calls us hence. Hector, I come, once more a queen, to join thee!

Thus the gay victim, with fresh garlands crown'd, Pleased with the sacred fife's enlivening sound, Through gazing crowds in solemn state proceeds, And, drest in fatal pomp, magnificently bleeds.

SCENE II. HERMIONE alone.

[Exeunt.

What have I done? Where am I? Where is Pyrrhus?

Ye gods! What mean these horrors? I am undone!

My soul is on the rack! I cannot bear it:
Why do I wander like some guilty ghost?
What brought me to this place? What keeps me
here?

The court of Pyrrhus has no room for me!
Do I still doubt if I should love or hate him?
Hard-hearted man! How unconcerned he left
me!

Did he once sigh? Bestow one pitying look?

Triumphant in his looks, and full of joy.
Still as he walked, his ravished eyes were fixt
On the fair captive; while through shouting
crowds

She passed along with a dejected air,
And seemed to mourn her Hector to the last.

Her. Insulting tyrant! I shall burst with rage! But say, Cleone, didst thou mark him well? Was his brow smooth? Say, did there not appear

Some shade of grief, some little cloud of sorrow! Did he not stop? Did he not look once back? Didst thou approach him? Was he not confounded?

Did he not- -Oh, be quick and tell me all!

Cleo. Madam, the tumult of his joy admits No thought but love. Unguarded he marched on, 'Midst a promiscuous throng of friends and foes. His cares all turn upon Astyanax, Whom he has lodged within the citadel, Defended by the strength of all his guards. Her. Enough! he dies!-the traitor!Where's Orestes?

Cleo. He's in the temple with his whole retinue.

Her. Is he still resolute? Is he still determined?

Cleo. Madam, I fear

Her. How! Is Orestes false? Does he betray me too?

Cleo. A thousand doubts

Perplex his soul, and wound him with remorse:
His virtue and his love prevail by turns.
He told me Pyrrhus should not fall ignobly;
Pyrrhus, the warlike son of great Achilles.
He dreads the censure of the Grecian states;
Of all mankind; and fears to stain his honour.
Her. Poor tim'rous wretch! 'tis false! he base-

ly fears

To cope with dangers, and encounter death; 'Tis that he fears:-Am I bright Helen's daughter?

To vindicate her wrongs all Greece conspired;

For her confederate nations fought, and kings were slain,

Troy was o'erthrown, and a whole empire fell. My eyes want force to raise a lover's arm, Against a tyrant that has dared to wrong me! Cleo. Madam, like Helen, trust your cause to Greece.

Her. No; I'll avenge myself! I'll to the tem-
ple!

F'll overturn the altar, stab the priest !
I'll hurl destruction, like a whirlwind, round me!
They must not wed! they must not live! they
shall not!-

Let me be gone! I have no time to lose!
Stand off! hold me not! I am all distraction!
Oh, Pyrrhus! Tyrant! Traitor! Thou shalt bleed!
Enter ORESTES.

Orest. Madam, 'tis done; your orders are
obeyed:

The tyrant lies expiring at the altar.
Her. Is Pyrrhus slain?

Orest. Even now he gasps in death:

Our Greeks, all undistinguished in the crowd,
Flocked to the temple, and dispersed themselves
On every side the altar. I was there;
Pyrrhus observed me with a haughty eye,
And, proud to triumph over Greece in ine,
From his own brows he took the diadem,
And bound it on the temples of his captive;
Receive, said he, my crown; receive
faith;
my
Mine and my people's sovereign reign for ever.
From this blest hour, a father to your son,
I'll scourge his foes; henceforward be he styled
The Trojan king; I swear it at the altar,
And call the gods to ratify my vows.
His subjects, with loud acclamations, shook
The spacious dome. Our Greeks, enraged, cried
out,

Revenge! revenge! broke through the thronging press,

And rushed, tumultuous, on the unguarded king;
Their eager fury left no work for me.
Pyrrhus awhile opposed their clashing swords,
And dealt his fatal blows, on ev'ry side,
With manly firmness; till, opprest by numbers,
Streaming with blood, all over gashed with
wounds,

He reeled, he groaned, and at the altar fell.
-Haste, madam; let us fly! Haste to our ships!
They lie unmoored: our friends attend us there.
Her. What have they done!
Orest. Madam, forgive their rage.

I own your vengeance had been more complete,
Had Pyrrhus fallen by me, and had he known
Hermione chastised him by my arm.

Her. Peace, monster! peace! Go tell thy horrid tale

To savages, and howl it in the desert.
Wouldst thou impute to me thy barbarous guilt?
Me wouldst thou make the accomplice of thy
crimes?

Hence to thy Greeks, and boast thy foul exploits!

My soul abhors them! I disclaim the deed!

Begone! I know thee not! Thou fell barbarian! What had he done? What could provoke thy madness,

To assassinate so great, so brave a man?
Who set thee on?

Orest. Oh, grant me patience, Heaven!
With your own lips did you not curse the tyrant,
Pronounce his death, and urge me to destroy
him?

Her. What if, transported by my boundless
passion,

I could not bear to see him wed another,
Were you to obey a jealous woman's frenzy?
You should have dived into my inmost thoughts:
My heart, though full of rage, was free from ma-
lice;

And all my anger was excess of love.
Why did you take me at my word! You saw
The struggles of my soul; you heard me rave;
You should have questioned me a thousand times,
Yet still have doubted, and still questioned on,
Before you ventured on a life so precious.

Orest. Hear me but speak: Heaven knows, against my will

Her. Why did you not return? Why not consult me

A second time? And, undetermined still,
Again return, and still find new delays?
What had your rash officious Greeks, dire blood-

hounds!

To do with my revenge? What drew you hither? To bring on me the vengeful woes that haunt you?

Are these the fruits of your detested love?
Your fatal embassy, your hateful presence,
Drove Pyrrhus to my rival; and destroys
Both him and me. He might have loved me still,
Had you ne'er interposed-Avaunt! Begone!
And leave me in Epirus. I renounce

My friends, my country, Greece, and all mankind:

But chiefly I renounce thee! monster, thee!

[Exit.

Orest. Am I awake? Where am I? Soft, my
soul;

Be not too rash.-Was that Hermione?
Why should her anger thunder against me?
Was not this blood shed all by her command?-
am, indeed, a most outrageous monster!
A ruffian, murderer, a base assassin !
And all to please a false, ungrateful woman.
Henceforward let the laws of nations cease;
And let the pale, that severs right and wrong,
Things sacred and profane, be broken down;
Gods in their temples, kings upon their thrones,
Are not in safety, while Orestes lives!
Oh! never more shall my torn mind be healed,
Nor taste the gentle comfort of repose!
A dreadful band of gloomy cares surround me,
And lay strong siege to my distracted soul!

Enter PYLADES, attended by Greeks.
Pyl. Haste, prince; let us be gone: 'tis death

to stay.

Andromache reigns queen: she gives the alarm,

And vows revenge upon the foes of Pyrrhus.
The people arm and muster in the streets:
Our Grecks will not be able long to guard
The palace gates, and to secure our flight.
We must be speedy, sir.

Orest. You may depart,

My friends-Hermione and I remain-
Her cruelty has quite undone me!—Go,
And leave me to myself--I'll find her out.

Pyl. Alas, unhappy princess! she's no more; Forget her, sir, and save yourself with us.

Orest. Hermione no more!--Oh, all ye powers! Pyl. Full of disorder, wildness in her looks, With hands expanded, and dishevelled hair, Breathless and pale, with shrieks she sought the temple;

In the mid-way she met the corpse of Pyrrhus; She started at the sight; then, stiff with horror, Gazed frightful: waking from the dire amaze, She raised her eyes to heaven with such a look, As spoke her sorrows, and reproached the gods: Then plunged a poniard deep within her breast, And fell on Pyrrhus, grasping him in death.

Orest. I thank you, gods-I never could ex-
pect

To be so wretched-You have been industrious
To finish your decrees; to make Orestes
A dreadful instance of your power to punish.
I'm singled out to bear the wrath of Heaven.

Pyl. You hazard your retreat by these delays. The guards will soon beset us. Your complaints Are vain, and may be fatal.

His ravings will return with his misfortunes. Orest. I am dizzy!-Clouds !-Quite lost in utter darkness.

Guide me, some friendly pilot, through the storm.
I shiver! Oh, I freeze!-So;-Light returns;
'Tis the grey dawn!-See, Pylades!-Behold!
I am encompassed with a sea of blood!
The crimson billows!-Oh, my brain's on fire!
Pyl. How is it, sir?-Repose yourself on me.
Orest. Pyrrhus, stand off!- -Why wouldst
thou? How he glares!

What envious hand has closed thy wounds?-
Have at thee.

It is Hermione that strikes

-Confusion!

yelling!

And see, Hermione! She sets them on-Thrust not your scorpions thus into my bosom! Oh! I am stung to death! Dispatch me soon! There-take my heart, Hermione! Tear it out! Disjoint me! kill me!-Oh, my tortured soul! Pyl. Kind Heaven restore him to his wonted calm!

Oft have I seen him rave, but never thus: Quite spent! Assist me, friends, to bear him off; Our time is short: should his strong rage return, 'Twould be beyond our power to force him hence.

Away, my friends! I hear the portal open.

[Ercant.

Enter PHENIX, attended by Guards. Phan. All, all are fled! Orestes is not here! Triumphant villains!—The base, giddy rabble, Whose hands should all have been employed with fire,

To waste the fleet, flocked round the dying prin

cess;

And, while they stand agaze, the Greeks embark.
Oh, 'tis too plain!-this sacrilegious murder
Was authorised. -The ambassador's escape
Declares his guilt.-Most bloody embassy!
Most unexampled deed!-Where, where, ye gods,
Is majesty secure, if in your temples
You give it no protection!-See, the queen.
A flourish of trumpets.

Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA.
Andr. Yes, ye inhuman Greeks! the time will

come

When you shall dearly pay your bloody deeds! How should the Trojans hope for mercy from

you,

When thus you turn your impious rage on Pyr rhus;

Pyrrhus, the bravest man in all your leagne; The man whose single valour made you triumph? [A dead march belund.

Is my child there?

Ceph. It is the corpse of Pyrrhus. The weeping soldiers bear him on their shields Andr. Il-fated prince! too negligent of life, And too unwary of the faithless Greeks!