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. Then is Orestes blest! My griefs are fled! Fled like a dream!-Methinks I tread in air! Pyrrhus approaches in a happy hour. I should be blest! I should be loved as he is!--I long to view the sails unfurled !—-But, see! Enter PYRRHUS, and PHOENIX. Pyr. I was in pain to find you, prince. My warm Ungoverned temper would not let me weigh 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, [Exit Orestes. undone 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 Pyrrhus; Shews all the hero. Now you are yourself! Pyr. Nay, Phoenix, now I but begin to triumph! I never was a conqueror 'till now. To please a thankless woman!--One kind look Phan. Oh, my royal master! The gods, in favour to you, made her cruel. Pyr. Thou sawest with how much scorn she treated me! 'Tis he himself! his eyes, his every feature! 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 soothe, 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, But we shall change our parts; and she shall find I can be deaf, like her; and steel my heart. Phan. My royal master, talk of her no more; 'Tis time you should prepare the nuptial rites, 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 stiffled 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- Thou dost not know me, Phoenix. You are still struggling in the toils of love! One who repays my passion with disdain! Phan. You have it in your power to be re- Pyr. Yes-and I'll shew my power! I'll give To hate me! her Astyanax shall die!- 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. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. Enter PYLADES and ORESTES, Life is not worth my care. My soul grows des perate. I'll bear her off, or perish in the attempt. Pyl. FOR Heaven's sake, sir, compose your I'll force her from his arms :-By Heaven I will! 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. Pyl. Well, 'tis agreed, my friend :-We'll force her hence, But still consider, we are in Epirus. The court, the guards, Hermione herself, Good gods! what tempted you to seek her here! These outrages of fate, with temper! And will to-morrow take her from my hand!- Could you but look into the soul of Pyrrhus, me! O leave me to myself!-Let not thy friendship (As Pyrrhus has consented) into Greece. Go, Pylades Pyl. Lead on, my friend, lead on! The ships are ready, and the wind sits fair: Orest. Thou art too good! I trespass on thy friendship, But, Oh! excuse a wretch, whom no man pities, The treasure of his soul: whom all mankind Pyl. The question is unkind. But now re And farther, I am informed that you, Orestes, Are to dispose me for the intended marriage. Orest. And are you, madam, willing to comply? Her. Could I imagine Pyrrhus loved me still? Your eyes do what they will, and cannot fail mised. Can I refuse what is not mine to give? All have a right to please themselves in love: Tis fortune is my enemy, not you. [Exit Orestes. Her. Cleone, couldst thou think he'd be so calm? To keep him far from perils of ambition: Her. Madam, 'tis easy to conceive your grief: Cleo. Madam, his silent grief sits heavy on Madam, if Pyrrhus must be wrought to pity, 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 harrassed troops to conquest, When they despaired, when they retired from And sought for shelter in their burning fleets? Her. Wilt thou discourse of nothing but Ores- Pyrrhus is mine again!-Is mine for ever! -Oh, I could tell thee numberless exploits, 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. Than Hector's widow suppliant and in tears? Andr. I provoke him by my presence. Let us retire. 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 generous flame, and scorn to be obliged! You hate me more than the whole league of 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. Ceph. Think you, 'twill please the ghost of your dead husband, That you should sacrifice his son? Consider, Andr. But how can I forget it! How can I 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! I thought the brave were still the most compas-This is the courtship I received from Pyrrhus; sionate. Oh, do not, sir, divide me from my child! Pyr. Phoenix, withdraw a while. [Exit Phænir. Must I turn suppliant for him? Think, oh think, 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 mother in me. When his too-forward courage led him forth Ceph. Oh, the unhappy hour! 'Twas then Troy fell, and all her gods forsook her. Andr. That morn, Cephisa, that ill-fated morn, My husband bid thee bring Astyanax ; He took him in his arms; and, as I wept, My wife, my dear Andromache, said he, (Heaving with stifled sighs to see me weep) What fortune may attend my arms, the gods Alone can tell. To thee I give the boy; Preserve him as the token of our loves; If I should fall, let him not miss his sire While thou survivest; but, by thy tender care, Let the son see that thou didst love his father. Ceph. And will you throw away a life so precious? At once extirpate all the Trojan line? Andr. Inhuman king! What has he done to suffer? |