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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Andromache, by Gilbert Murray
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Andromache
+       A Play in Three Acts
+
+
+Author: Gilbert Murray
+
+
+
+Release Date: February 17, 2012  [eBook #38909]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDROMACHE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by James Wright and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)
+
+
+
+ANDROMACHE
+
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
+UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
+Paper, 1s. 6d.; Cloth, 2s. 6d.
+CARLYON SAHIB
+A Drama in Four Acts
+
+
+LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
+21 Bedford Street, W.C.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+
+ANDROMACHE
+
+A Play in Three Acts
+
+by
+
+GILBERT MURRAY
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London: William Heinemann
+MDCCCC
+
+_All rights, including Acting rights in the English Language, reserved_
+
+
+
+
+_PREFATORY LETTER._
+
+
+_My Dear ARCHER_,
+
+_The germ of this play sprang into existence on a certain April day in
+1896 which you and I spent chiefly in dragging our reluctant bicycles up
+the great hills that surround Riveaulx Abbey, and discussing, so far as
+the blinding rain allowed us, the questions whether all sincere comedies
+are of necessity cynical, and how often we had had tea since the
+morning, and how far it would be possible to treat a historical subject
+loyally and unconventionally on a modern stage. Then we struck (as, I
+fear, is too often the fate of those who converse with me) on the
+subject of the lost plays of the Greek tragedians. We talked of the
+extraordinary variety of plot that the Greek dramatist found in his
+historical tradition, the force, the fire, the depth and richness of
+character-play. We thought of the marvellous dramatic possibilities of
+an age in which actual and living heroes and sages were to be seen
+moving against a background of primitive superstition and blank
+savagery; in which the soul of man walked more free from trappings than
+seems ever to have been permitted to it since. But I must stop; I see
+that I am approaching the common pitfall of playwrights who venture upon
+prefaces, and am beginning to prove how good my play ought to be!_
+
+_What I want to remind you of is this: that we agreed that a simple
+historical play, with as little convention as possible, placed in the
+Greek Heroic Age, and dealing with one of the ordinary heroic stories,
+ought to be, well, an interesting experiment. Beyond this point, I know,
+we began to differ. You wanted verse and the Greece of the English
+poets. I wanted, above all things, a nearer approach to my conception of
+the real Greece, the Greece of history and even--dare I say it?--of
+anthropology! I recognise your full right to disapprove of every word
+and every sentiment of this play from the first to the last, but I hope
+you will not grudge me the pleasure of associating your name with at
+least the inception of the experiment, and thanking you at the same time
+for the many gifts of friendly encouragement and stimulating objurgation
+which you have bestowed upon_
+
+_Yours sincerely_,
+_GILBERT MURRAY_.
+
+_January 1900._
+
+
+
+
+_DRAMATIS PERSONAE_
+
+
+PYRRHUS                 _Son of Achilles; King of Phthia._
+
+ANDROMACHE              _Once wife of Hector, Prince of Troy; now slave to
+                           Pyrrhus._
+
+HERMIONE                _Daughter of Helen, Queen of Sparta; wife to
+                           Pyrrhus._
+
+MOLOSSUS                _Child of Pyrrhus and Andromache._
+
+ALCIMEDON _or_ ALCIMUS  _An old Captain of Achilles' Myrmidons._
+
+ORESTES                 _Son of Agamemnon, King of Mycenae; now banished
+                           for the slaying of his mother, Clytaemnestra._
+
+PYLADES                 _A Prince of Phocis, friend to Orestes._
+
+A PRIEST OF THETIS
+
+TWO MAIDS OF HERMIONE
+
+_Certain Maidens, Myrmidons, Men-at-Arms._
+
+_The Action takes place in Phthia, on the Southern borders of Thessaly,
+about fifteen years after the Fall of Troy._
+
+
+
+
+ANDROMACHE
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST ACT
+
+
+SCENE: _The coast of Phthia. Rocks at the back, with the sea visible
+behind them. One of the rocks is a shrine, having niches cut in it for
+receiving offerings. On the right in front is the Altar of Thetis,
+shrouded in trees; to the left, a well. A path to the left leads to_
+PYRRHUS' _castle; another, far back to the right, leads to the house of
+the_ PRIEST. _It is the morning twilight, with a faint glimmer of dawn._
+
+_At the foot of the rock_ ORESTES _is seated in meditation; he carries
+two spears, and wears the garb of a traveller. An_ ARMED MAN _is moving
+off the stage at the back, as though going towards the sea; he stops
+suddenly, listens, and hides behind a rock._
+
+_Enter, coming up from the sea_, PYLADES, _armed. The_ MAN _steps out_.
+
+MAN.
+
+My lord Pylades.
+
+PYLADES.
+
+Where have you left him?
+
+MAN.
+
+Yonder, by the shrine. He bade me go back to the ship.
+
+PYLADES.
+
+[_Crossing to_ ORESTES.] Is it too late to turn your purpose?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_As though half roused from his reverie._] I seek only to see if she is
+indeed so passing beautiful. She was; I am sure she was, until----
+[_He pauses._
+
+PYLADES.
+
+Let me go first and spy out a way for you.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_With sudden resentment._] You think I am still mad!
+
+PYLADES.
+
+Nay, no more mad than I, but more quick to anger. It would be safer for
+me to go.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+You think I am still mad because I dared not say it! I will say it here
+by the altar. [_Doggedly._] I will see if she is still as she used to be
+before the day when--[_with effort_]--I shed my mother's blood, and
+first saw----
+
+PYLADES.
+
+Speak not Their name, brother. You did nought but the gods' plain
+bidding. You see them no more now that you are healed.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+'Twas you that feared to name them, not I!
+
+PYLADES.
+
+Nay, you fear nothing; that is why I must fear for you.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+What is there to fear for me? Most like I shall come back just as I am.
+
+PYLADES.
+
+That is the one thing that cannot be!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Musingly._] If she is changed as all the world else is changed since
+that time---- [_Abruptly._] I care not for the woman. I will come back.
+If not---- [_Smiles ambiguously._
+
+PYLADES.
+
+But why go alone, and why venture so much? We two could lie hid in the
+thickets by the shrine yonder, and see her when the women come to pray
+at sunrise. And then----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_With determination, interrupting him._] I will go alone, and see her
+and speak with her alone! Hinder me not, friend! Leave no man to watch
+over me. Keep the ship well hidden, and have twoscore men ambushed above
+the cliff, to hold the path if need comes.
+
+PYLADES.
+
+There shall be fourscore ever ready to your call, night or day.
+
+MAN.
+
+[_Coming down from path at back._] My chief, the dawn is drawing close.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Ay, get you gone before any worshippers come.
+
+PYLADES.
+
+As you will, then. And Apollo be your guard!
+
+     [_Exeunt_ PYLADES _and_ ARMED MAN. ORESTES _wraps his mantle round
+     him and sits in silence._
+
+     _Enter from the right_, PRIEST _of Thetis, with a bowl in his
+     hands. He climbs a rock at the back and watches the sunrise._
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Not yet. Not quite yet. Ah, there it catches the crag-top: now the
+trees:--yes, there is the glint far off upon the sea! [_Comes down
+towards the shrine and prays._] Hail, Thetis! Accept this wine and honey
+I bring thee at first touch of dawn. Keep thy Priest in wealth and
+honour, even as I keep thy worship. And, as the sunlight drives the
+Things of darkness from thy waters---- [_Seeing_ ORESTES.] Averter of
+evil! Who is this that has sat through the darkness under the Holy Rock?
+Stranger, whence come you here?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+From Acarnania. Have I sinned in resting here?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+No man of Phthia, for his life, would stay here in darkness! Saw you not
+anything?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+What should I see?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+No changing manifold shapes, as of women or winged things?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Harshly._] I saw nought but what I have seen on a thousand nights.
+Enough! If I have offended any goddess I will make amends.
+
+     [_He begins to wring off a pendant from a gold chain that he wears,
+     and moves towards the altar._
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Stay! There is no blood upon your hands?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I have slain a man.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+How long since? Is the stain washed off?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Oh, I have been purified and purified!
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Duly and fully--with hyssop and the blood of swine?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+With better sacrifices than swine! I am clean enough to make amends to
+your goddess. [_Coming across to the shrine._] Where shall I lay it? For
+I may need her favour. [_Holds out the gold pendant._
+
+PRIEST.
+
+[_Surprised._] Gold! Stranger, it is well to give gold to Thetis,
+but----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Well, I give it to Thetis!
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Scarce a man in Phthia has ever touched gold, save Pyrrhus himself and
+the servants of Hermione. Nor many, I should guess, in Acarnania.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+A banished man must have his wealth in little compass.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+A chain like that should buy an exile's return.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I care not to return.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Are the friends of the dead so bitter against you?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+The friends of the dead are dead, and my friends are dead. I have none
+to fear; but I have been wronged, my house taken from me, and my
+father's wealth, and the woman that was vowed me to wife. No more, old
+man! I am an exile, and I live in happier lands than mine own.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Is it in Phthia you seek for a happy land? No matter; affliction comes
+to the good as to the evil.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Why, what ails your city, if a stranger may know?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+See you that shrine, and the footprint of Thetis in the rock? Once it
+was all covered with offerings!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+It is not so well loaded, nor yet so ill. Is there no worse than that?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Worse? Barren fields and a barren queen, and hatred in the house of
+Achilles!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is it some sin the King has done?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+The King and a woman.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Starting._] Has _that_ sin met its punishment? Speak plainly, Priest.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Long years ago, Pyrrhus brought back from Troy a slave woman to share
+his bed.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_As though reassured._] Hector's wife, Andromache, men say.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+The wife of his father's bitterest enemy! Ay, and she was his enemy too,
+and loathed her life with Pyrrhus.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+They all struggle, these women captives. But what harm came of it?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+She is a foe to the land and to Thetis!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+But has he not cast her off? [_With constraint._] Men say he has wedded
+a new Queen, the daughter of Helen.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Oh, the Trojan has not dwelt in the King's house these ten years back.
+She begged him for a hut in the mountain, and he gave it her.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+She begged to be sent away! How was that?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Why should a woman wish to live in secret, and not be seen? [_Slight
+pause._] There be wise women among the barbarians.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Wise in bad drugs and magic; I know no other wisdom in them.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+You have said it! There is a prophet here who knows of counter-charms--I
+gave him three ewes for this that I wear--[_showing a charm made of
+wolves' teeth_]--else I durst not face her!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Whom has she chiefly hurt?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Men say she has waked the dead Hector to come to her across the seas!
+[_He shudders._] But for the King, we should have judged her long ago.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Does the new Queen hate her?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Has she not blighted the womb of the Queen? There is no heir to Achilles
+in Achilles' land!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+And does Pyrrhus sit still while his Queen is thus wronged?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Cannot a witch blind the eyes? He can see nothing, and will hearken to
+nothing. Even now he has taken the Trojan woman's bastard with him.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is Pyrrhus away from the land? Where?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+He has gone hunting in the hills yonder--[_pointing_]--and down to the
+fields of the Napaeans.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+When should he return?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+To-day, it may be--it is the fifth day of the hunt; or perchance the
+game may keep him some time yet.
+
+     [_Enter_ ALCIMEDON, L., _an old man with spears but no armour; he
+     carries a bunch of violets for Thetis_.] The witch woman is mad
+     lest any hurt come to the boy!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Health to you, Priest, and discretion to your tongue!
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Health I accept, Alcimedon,--discretion to them that need it!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_To the_ PRIEST.] Why, what should bring hurt to the lad?
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Carelessly, passing on._] Jealousy stranger. Priests and barren women!
+
+     [_He passes on to the altar, and then to the rock, where he puts
+     his violets._
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Jealousy!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Involuntarily._] Hermione would never plot against the boy!
+
+     [_He makes an angry movement after_ ALCIMEDON.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+What jealousy? What need to be jealous of him? He is no true heir. We
+have a King, and we have a Queen, both of the blood of Zeus, both our
+true rulers, but heir there is none.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Seeing and handling the gold link._] Ye golden gods, have the sons of
+Pactolus us come to Phthia?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_In sudden anger._] The curse of the crawling lichen on the man who
+moves that gold!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+On your own head! [_Throws gold quickly down._] Who are you, stranger,
+to curse one that has done you no wrong?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I check the wrong before it is done. And I tell not my name save to my
+host after I have eaten and slept.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+If you come to teach your manners to the Myrmidons, by Thetis! you shall
+learn theirs first. Is the stranger yours, O Priest?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I have broken no man's bread nor touched his hand. [_Defiantly._] What
+see you more?
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Why is he so bold? Has he sanctuary with Thetis?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Lifting his two spears._] This is my sanctuary. And there is more gold
+for the man that will break through it.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Stay! Slay not the stranger so fast, Alcimedon. Reason with him. He will
+give up the chain, and we will let him go in peace.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Go in peace, when he has lifted his spear against Alcimedon! How shall I
+look my grandchildren in the face? By Thetis! I will wash the chain with
+his blood!
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Beware; he has spears! It is man to man.
+
+     [_Noise of footsteps._ ORESTES _puts his back towards a rock, so
+     that neither he nor_ ALCIMEDON _sees_ ANDROMACHE, _the_ MAID, _and
+     two other damsels, who enter with pitchers on their heads_.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_With his eye on_ ORESTES.] Ha! who comes there? [_Calling to the
+newcomers without looking at them._] A stranger in arms, and with gold!
+Ho! Myrmidons!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Shame on you, Alcimedon, robber of strangers!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Is it you? [_Yielding reluctantly._] Nay, he is no man's guest; it is
+lawful to slay him.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+He is mine. [_To_ ORESTES.] Stranger, give me your right hand. [_To_
+ALCIMEDON.] He is my guest.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Still stormy and excited._] Shall I take a woman's hand for fear of
+this old loon? My spear-blade is dry and has not drunk.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Stranger, you are alone; a wise man chooses peace, and not war.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Alone? As a wolf among sheep is alone. When he slays first the
+dog--[_pointing spear at_ ALCIMEDON]--and bleeds the sheep as he will!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+And who will be the better when he has bled them? Nay, old friend--[_to_
+ALCIMEDON, _who wants to break in; then to_ ORESTES _again_]--though you
+slay us all, you have but lost the food and shelter we had given you;
+and the shedder of blood escapes not the Dread Watchers.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Who had been cooling, starts and threatens her._] What know _you_ of
+the Dread Watchers?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+And there is little glory in the slaying of a woman, and little gain.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Wildly._] What woman? Who are you that taunt me? Priest, is this your
+witch?
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Angrily._] She is no witch! You lie, both stranger and priest!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I am a bondwoman of the King.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Andromache, once wife of Hector, Prince of Troy.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+And am I to be the guest of a bondwoman?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+There are others of free estate who will take you in. I only sought to
+save men's lives.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+What worth are men's lives? I will be guest to none but the King.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+One of these will guide you, when you will, to Pyrrhus' castle.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Relaxing suddenly._] Oh, let me be.
+
+     [_He sits down on a rock, and buries his face in his hands._
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_To_ ALCIMEDON.] The man is very weary and sore at heart, Alcimedon.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+It may be he is mad. It is well we hurt him not.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Banishment may make a man well-nigh mad. I remember the year of my own
+manslaying.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Perchance he has been long alone in the forests. Take him and give him
+food and drink.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+The priest can take him. I want no more of the man.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Wearily._] Nay, touch me not. Leave me awhile.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+[_To the others._] It is well. Make your prayers.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Approaching the altar, and praying with upstretched hands._] Greeting
+to thee and joy, Thetis, mother of all Phthia. Give us peace in this
+land; and grant that my son Molossus return safe, and grow to give joy
+to thee and all this house!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_In the same way._] Joy to thee, Thetis! Accept my offerings, and grant
+that my arms keep strong, and that I find the man whose swine have
+trampled my barley field.
+
+MAID.
+
+It will be a long day before Thetis grants you that, old man.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Grumbling._] If I only knew of any one that knew!
+
+PRIEST.
+
+[_To_ FIRST MAID.] Have you a prayer to make?
+
+MAID.
+
+[_Taking offerings from other_ MAIDS _to add to her own_.] Hail, Thetis!
+and may joy be ever with thee! Accept these offerings from the
+bondmaidens Aithra, and Pholoe, and Deianassa; and grant all good things
+to them and theirs. [_A pause._
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+The jade! She is praying in silence! Ho, stop her, Priest! [_The others
+giggle._
+
+MAID.
+
+'Tis as good as a witch's prayer, at the worst!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Taking hold of her and threatening her with the shaft of his spear._]
+Say it aloud, now! Say what it was!
+
+MAID.
+
+I won't! I won't! Let me be. It was no harm.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Let her be.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Swear it was nothing touching me, nor my crops, nor those swine!
+
+MAID.
+
+By Thetis! I think not of you, nor your crops nor your swine!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Recovering from his reverie._] Well, lead me in. I will be the guest
+of any that will take me.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+You have given an offering, stranger; you may pray if you will.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I--to Thetis! No! Yet perhaps---- [_Going up to altar._] Hail, Thetis! I
+have given thee an offering of many oxen's price, and many more will I
+give if thou hinder me not of my desires.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+A vile prayer, a very dangerous prayer! He might as well have prayed
+silently. I will not take the man; the Priest may take him.
+
+     [_The_ PRIEST _goes towards_ ORESTES.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Looking about and scanning the faces._] I will be this bondwoman's
+guest.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+So be it, stranger. [_The_ PRIEST _moves anxiously towards_ ORESTES.]
+And perchance the Priest will give you shelter till my work is done.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Ay, come with me. When the King returns, it were meeter that he should
+take you. [_Aside to_ ORESTES.] Beware, stranger! It is the Phrygian
+woman.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Apart to_ PRIEST.] She is over-wise, methinks; but not evil. I fear
+her not. [_Coming back as though on impulse._] I give you my hand, wife
+of Hector!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It is well, my guest. [_Taking his hand._
+
+PRIEST.
+
+Till the King returns!
+
+     [_Exeunt_ PRIEST _and_ ORESTES R.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_As_ ANDROMACHE _and the women draw water at the well_.] Lazy hounds,
+to let Hector's wife draw water! Fill her pails for her, little foxes!
+
+FIRST MAID.
+
+Better _she_ fill mine! Perhaps she knows charms for filling them.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It is well, fellow slave. Let our work be even.
+
+     _Enter, by the path from the Castle_, HERMIONE, _with two
+     attendants carrying libations. She does not notice the slaves._
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Greeting, O Queen.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Greeting, old man. [_Going up to the altar._] Hail, Thetis, and have
+joy! Accept this wine and the blood of an ewe with two lambs that I
+bring to thee; and take off from me, I beseech---- [_She stops, looks
+round, and sees_ ANDROMACHE, _on whom she turns with vehemence_.] You?
+
+     [_Flings out the blood on the ground._
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Queen, you have flung out the blood upon the ground!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+What would my sacrifice profit, with that woman's eyes upon me? [_To_
+ANDROMACHE.] Get you back to the castle! Is the water not drawn yet?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I go, O Queen!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+You are over-proud, my Queen, over-proud.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+May a Queen in Phthia not give commands to her own slaves?
+
+MAID.
+
+[_At the shrine._] Holy Aphrodite! some one has put gold upon the
+shrine!
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+'Twas a stranger that the Priest has taken in. Have a care: the dog laid
+a curse on any who should move it.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+A stranger! He comes from the South, then; from Athens, or Argos, or
+Mycenae----
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+No, Queen, he is only an Acarnanian. But belike he has journeyed to the
+South.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+That is no Acarnanian gold! [_Taking it up._] See you the sea-beast
+wrought on it, with many feet?
+
+     [_To_ MAID.
+
+MAID.
+
+Yes, but the curse, Queen----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Not heeding her._] It brings my home back to me. In Lacedaemon we all
+wore chains of gold about our necks.
+
+MAID.
+
+Queen, the man laid a curse upon it!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Putting it back._] I meant no evil; and that dear gold of the South
+will never hurt me---- In Agamemnon's palace the men had gold in their
+armour, and even in the blades of their swords! And the gold was wrought
+into lions and wild bulls and trees, and strange sea-beasts like this.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+A plain haft and a plain blade cuts the steadiest.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Angrily._] Bah! You deem because you are rude you are valiant,
+Alcimedon! The soldiers of the South were as brave as you.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Turning away towards the maidens._] Let not Andromache draw the water,
+jades!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Will you not draw for her yourself, old man?
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+_I_ draw water! [_Drawing himself up in indignation._] By Hermes! I care
+not for the tongue of a barren woman.
+
+     [_Voices and the loud talk of huntsmen are heard outside._
+
+VOICE OF MOLOSSUS.
+
+Ho! Mother, Mother!
+
+MAID.
+
+[_Looking._] It is Molossus! And the King's huntsmen. They are coming up
+the path.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Already!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_To_ ANDROMACHE, _who has stopped_.] Why do you wait? Have I not bidden
+you back to the castle? And when the hall is swept, go to your own
+house. Come not up to trouble the King till that web is finished.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Turning again and moving away._] I go, O Queen.
+
+VOICE OF PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Outside._] Ho, wife of Hector, mother of Molossus! Stay, and look at
+him.
+
+     MOLOSSUS _and_ PYRRHUS _enter, with some spearmen_; PYRRHUS _has
+     his arm on the neck of_ MOLOSSUS.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+[_Running forward._] Mother, look! I have slain a man!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+He has slain his first man.
+
+     [MOLOSSUS _holds up his hands, the palms of which are smeared with
+     blood_.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+See, mother; they have smeared me with his blood!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Holding aloof._] Keep away from the altar, with foul hands!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_To_ PYRRHUS, _with reproach, while she embraces_ MOLOSSUS.] You said
+you would take him to no battles, only to hunting.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Cheerily._] By Hermes, it was he who made the battle! I meant nothing
+but hunting.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Well done, boy! A true prince, a true prince!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+We had driven the deer down over the mountains and we came on a herd of
+the Napaeans' cattle grazing, right up on the moors.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+You promised me you would raid no cattle with him.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+By Hermes! They _came_ to us! And the herd-boy never saw us; he was
+sitting on a stone in the sun, and thinking of nothing. And even then I
+would not raid the cattle. When suddenly up jumped the herd-boy and
+looked at us, with his mouth open. And before he knew who we were, I
+heard a twang!--and there he was with an arrow in his neck!
+
+     [_Laughs._
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Right through his throat, mother! He was looking up. [_Imitating the
+attitude._] And I have got a pipe he was plaiting. It wasn't finished,
+but it blows.
+
+     [_He shows a pipe made of reeds._
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+You can play better things than pipes, my boy. So we ran down and cut
+off the cattle; and I have given them to Molossus for his own herd.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+And father put the blood on my hands himself.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+I will do more for you than that, my firstborn.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Who has kept back, by the altar._] Take up your pitcher, and begone,
+woman!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Turning upon_ HERMIONE.] Now, by Peleus, daughter of Helen, what would
+you?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+That when my slave is gone you may give me greeting.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+I give you greeting. But I praise not your greeting to me.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+If I send my women to draw water at sunrise, shall the water not be back
+when the shadows are thus?
+
+     [_Pointing to shadows._
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+There be other women meeter to draw water than Hector's wife. I tell you
+there is no man on this earth I should so joy to have slain as Hector.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+If he had witchwork to help him, he may have been a deadly fighter.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_To_ PYRRHUS, _who has laid his hand on her shoulder_.] Nay, master,
+the hall must be made ready.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Well, take our boy, and be with him at the castle when I come. Stay,
+think of a boon to ask of me in return for the day's good work. And
+make it a rich boon; I shall not stint you.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I know it now; but I fear to anger my lord.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Ask on; yet I would not have you ask for freedom from me.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+My master, what could I do now with freedom? Only suffer Molossus to
+make atonement to the Napaeans for the man he slew. He may give back the
+oxen, and I will add of my own.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Displeased._] Atonement! Who are the Napaeans to seek atonement from
+me?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, my lord, it was scarce a righteous slaying.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Not righteous! [_Scornfully._] Then perchance you would have me cut off
+the herd-boy's hands and feet, for fear his ghost should come after us?
+Not righteous! What is it you fear?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Putting her hand on_ MOLOSSUS' _shoulder_.] He is but a boy, my lord!
+And if there is no atonement, they will watch day and night to slay him.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Mother, I fear them not!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+They will raid us again----
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+I can do them twice and four times the hurt they can do me.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+They cannot hurt _us_ in our castle, but they can burn the villages in
+the plain and make dearth and famine.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Oh, Mother, why should I make atonement for my first man?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+It was only a boy, too. I cannot ask forgiveness for one boy!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It will cost little. I have three carpets of Sidon work----
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+And the oxen! I have given them to the lad; and one is already eaten.
+Well, well, it is for the lad to say if he will give back his oxen and
+ask for pardon.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_With a ring of emotion in her voice._] Shall my chests be made empty
+because your slave's child is afraid?
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+I am not afraid. I will never atone!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_To_ HERMIONE.] Peace, O Queen! [_To_ ANDROMACHE.] Go! If Molossus
+wills, he can make his atonement. On to the castle, men!
+
+     [_Exeunt spearmen._
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Turning as she goes off._] Be not wroth, my King. Your hall would be
+very desolate if the boy were slain. [_Exeunt_ ANDROMACHE _and_
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+There is another atonement should come first, if you must humble
+yourself.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Stopping as he is going off._] What other?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Atone to Orestes, Agamemnon's son, that you stole away his bride!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Firing up and laying his hand on his dagger._] Daughter of a dog! I
+stole no man's bride.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Was I not vowed and sworn to Orestes?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Your father vowed you, not I. What is it to me if your father broke his
+oaths?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+You helped him and bribed him to break them. The wrath of the Broken
+Oath is on both of you!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+You are mad, woman. Orestes had murdered his mother, and the Spirits
+without Name haunted him day and night----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+My father knew that when he betrothed me. He could be purified.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Scornfully._] Purified? For slaying his mother?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+And you, you dared not enter the land while Agamemnon's son was there;
+you waited till----
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+'Twas your father cozened Orestes away. How should I fear Agamemnon's
+son? Am I not the son of Achilles?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+And was Achilles a better man than Agamemnon?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+All the world knows he was.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Then why did all the world choose Agamemnon to be their king?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Bah! Very feeble men may be kings.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+They may, in Phthia; and beggarly men, and savage, and witch-ridden, and
+makers of atonement, and stealers of wives!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+By Peleus! if I stole you, you were willing. 'Tis yourself you mark with
+a dog's name, Helen's daughter!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+God be witness, willing I never was! Though I dreamed not then that I
+should come to a beggared land and the house of a master who hated me!
+
+     [_Flings herself down by the altar, hidden from the back of the
+     stage by the trees._
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+By Thetis, woman, you are bewitched!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_With a cry._] Bewitched! Have I not said it?
+
+     _Enter from_ R. _back_, PRIEST _and_ ORESTES.
+
+PRIEST.
+
+[_To_ ORESTES.] Here is the King himself! [_To_ PYRRHUS.] Son of
+Achilles, I bring you this stranger, whom your handmaid, Andromache,
+commended to my care.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Whence comes he, and what seeks he?
+
+PRIEST.
+
+From Acarnania, banished for the slaying of a man.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+He seeks not purification?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+The blood is faded long ago from my hand. I seek but to rest a while at
+your castle; I will give payment either in battle with your enemies, or
+by tidings and songs from beyond Parnassus and the Waters of Pelops.
+
+     [HERMIONE _looks up in amazement at the voice, utters a stifled
+     cry, and peers round_.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+It is well, stranger. Tidings are good in peace; and if war comes, an
+exile for manslaying may well be worth the bread he eats.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Others know if I am skilled in war. I know only that my life is little
+worth to me, and I care not much to save it.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+A good word, Sir Guest, and worthy of the roof of Achilles. We give you
+greeting, my Queen and I. [_Shakes his hand, and looks round for_
+HERMIONE.] Daughter of Helen, have you not seen our guest?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_In a startled tone._] Seen him? What do you mean, my lord?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Nay, though methinks I have heard the Queen's praises till it is almost
+as though I knew her. For the women of the South speak daily of Helen's
+daughter, and the bards and kings' sons will never forget her.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Mastering her agitation with difficulty._] You know the land of
+Pelops, stranger? It is a fair land.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Once it was far the fairest upon earth. But now its pride is brought
+down, and that which made it beautiful is departed. [_He looks steadily
+at her._
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Ay, they have had their troubles in the South. Howbeit, with us you may
+stay in peace as long as your pleasure is. Daughter of Helen, give your
+hand to our guest, and guide him to the castle.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Moving her hand forward, then drawing back._] Let another guide him. I
+have yet a prayer unspoken, and my offering is poured.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Displeased._] Be not vexed, stranger. Who can tell the prayers of a
+childless woman, save that they change and are very many? Come with me,
+and to-morrow we will ask your name and race.
+
+     [_Exeunt_ PYRRHUS _and_ ORESTES, L. _The_ PRIEST _looks to the
+     niches in the rock to see the offerings_. HERMIONE _falls on her
+     knees at the altar, and prays silently_.
+
+
+END OF THE FIRST ACT.
+
+
+
+
+THE SECOND ACT
+
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+     _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 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 Napaeans, 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!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+And what is the road to peace? The hate must eat itself out, till it
+stays for weariness.
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+A long road, 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----
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Your words on your own head!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+----when the last of the Napaeans 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 Napaeans, there are those beyond the Napaeans 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?
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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
+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 son be bold to sit on
+it? Were his men good soldiers of Mycenae?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Some, of Mycenae, 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.
+
+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!
+
+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_?
+
+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?
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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._
+
+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?
+
+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 Aeacus the first of your house?
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+Aeacus, son of Zeus.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+     [_Twanging the lyre carelessly and improvising._
+
+    "Great were our sires, and feeble folk are we!
+     A strong king and a wise was Aeacus,
+     And Zeus his father helped him in his need,
+     And Pelops, Lord of Hellas, loved him well!"
+
+ALCIMEDON.
+
+[_Grumbling._] Aeacus 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!"----
+
+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. _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._
+
+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!
+
+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!
+
+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! 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!
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+THE THIRD ACT
+
+
+SCENE: _As in Act I. Night._ ANDROMACHE _on the steps of the altar of
+Thetis, with_ MOLOSSUS _asleep. Enter from the back, one after another,
+three armed men, with bows and arrows as well as spears; they pass
+silently behind rocks or bushes and disappear. Enter_ ORESTES, _armed,
+by path at back: a_ MAN _comes from behind a rock to meet him_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is the watch set?
+
+MAN-AT-ARMS.
+
+Everywhere.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+And the path to the ship safe?
+
+MAN-AT-ARMS.
+
+Yes. We have but to wait till they are drawn off from the castle.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Which way will Pylades lure them?
+
+MAN-AT-ARMS.
+
+He will feign flight northwards, to leave our way clear to the ship.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Good. One thing more. If I be stricken here, waste no men's lives for
+me. Make your way back to the ship.
+
+MAN-AT-ARMS.
+
+Prince, we have our orders for this night's work from Pylades. We leave
+you not.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Nay, what worth is a dead body, or who can hurt it?
+
+MAN-AT-ARMS.
+
+Hush! What was that?
+
+     [_Steals back to his ambush._ ANDROMACHE _has made some movement_.
+     ORESTES _peers towards Castle_, L., _in darkness; then, turning,
+     sees that there is a woman at the altar_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Daughter of Helen, why at the altar? Whom do you fear so sore? [_No
+answer. He comes nearer and sees_ MOLOSSUS _lying_.] What does the boy
+here?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It is the stranger! Come you to seek _me_, or what more has chanced?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is it you? You?--Is the boy asleep?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+We have waited here so long, and have heard no word, good or evil.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+But why hide you here?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+We have taken sanctuary from the wrath of the King and Queen, my guest.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Call you me still your guest?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, you are still my guest till you leave the land; and the King's
+wrath will perchance be cooled to-morrow.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Why did you not let them slay me in the hall? 'Twas your own folly. I
+sought no hurt to you. Speak, think you an altar will hold me back, or
+your blood stain deeper than my mother's blood?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Who are you that speak like this? And what will my death profit you?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Spoke I not loud enough in my enemy's hall? I am Orestes.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Amazed._] Clytaemnestra's son! [_Coming towards him._] Oh, now I
+understand your face! Give me your hand. Whether that old stain be yet
+purged or no----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+'Tis hidden and buried, rather, with much new blood over it. [_Keeping
+back his hand._
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It is such a one as you I have long prayed for, to be a friend to my
+child and me.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Why should I be your friend? I want no friends.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Listen. You and I have had more grief than others. We have seen beyond
+the glory of battle, beyond the joy of the conqueror and the shame of
+the conquered--as Priam and Hector saw before they died.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I know the battle, and I know the shame. I have seen nought else.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+The King has had but little sorrow; he has conquered always, and taken
+glory in his manslaying.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Belike he will soon taste the other side of glory.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It may be. But none here, save old Alcimus, know aught of suffering. I
+have long prayed that some man should come here who had suffered from
+the hurts he had done, and learnt to pity men and women. And if the
+King's feet are set fast and cannot be turned, at least there is my son.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Woman, I am come to slay the King and your son!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Calmly._] Slay them? But why? Why?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+To take their kingdom, as others have taken mine!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+But is all the grief wasted that the gods have sent you? Can you not
+forget past evils and live in peace?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+In storm I can forget them. Peace is all anguish to me.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+And what will a kingdom profit you?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I am a king's son; I must have my kingdom.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Oh, you kings and kings' sons, you dwell like wolves in your castles. I
+have heard many a ploughman at his ploughing sing with gladness, but
+seldom, seldom, a king's son.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Wolves must live in the wolves' way; and they have their own gladness,
+too.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+You may know them by the howling of their misery in the night! God grant
+my boy may never be a king!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Shall I slay him, then, as they bid me? Or would you that I should take
+him away, where there are no kingdoms? My ship is in the bay, and lacks
+not for plunder.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Better that you should slay him now, where he lies.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is he asleep? [_He bends tenderly over_ MOLOSSUS; _then recovers
+himself, and speaks in a harsh troubled voice_.] Why is it that you fear
+me not?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Why should I fear you?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Do you trust to these gods? For I reck little of them.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, my gods are vanished and powerless long ago, and these are but my
+enemies' gods.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Then what defence have you against me?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I need no defence. You and I are friends.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+How, friends! I am charged to slay you also.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+You will not slay me.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+How can you know what I myself know not yet?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+You have no peace to see your own heart; but I can see it.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+How have you learnt it?--Woman, they may well speak of your sorceries!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I have no sorceries. This is a simple thing. We slaves learn to read
+men's moods in their eyes and voices, because their moods bring life or
+death to us.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Then why do you not fear me the more? [_Roughly._] You have never seen
+my heart!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+He who has seen beyond the glory of bloodshedding may soon see beyond
+the hardness of man's heart.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Troubled--roughly._] I know my own heart!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+The gods' hearts may be hard, but man's is tender; only very hungry,
+and sore afraid, and wild as a hunted beast on the mountain.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Know you your Queen's heart?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Not hard, but starving. And she thinks, perchance, that the grief of
+others will feed it.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Absently--bending and touching the boy's hands._] He is very cold.
+
+     _Enter_ HERMIONE, _hooded and wrapped, hurriedly_.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_To herself._] Is there no one?--Oh, I dare not!
+
+     [ORESTES _steps quickly out from behind the trees_. HERMIONE
+     _starts in terror_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Welcome, daughter of Helen!
+
+     [HERMIONE _does not answer, but stands, breathing hardy with
+     relief_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Throw back your hood.--Ye gods, she is passing beautiful!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Take me quick to the ship. Quick, quick!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+It is not yet time. My men must draw Pyrrhus away from the castle.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+He has gone. Nay, take me quick--Orestes----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Why do you tremble so? What is it?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+That oath I swore----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+You have not heard Them?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I know not. There seemed shapes at the edge of the trees.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Shapes! [_Looks at her close._] No; _you_ have not seen them.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_With horror._] Is the sight of them written on men's faces?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Speak not of them!--You have neither seen nor heard.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+It is only now, and here, that I am afraid. Take me to the ship now; and
+when once it is over----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+When Pyrrhus is slain?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+And the other--[_clinging to him_]--oh, then we shall be safe and at
+peace.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+The boy? Why do you fear him?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Absently._] The boy? He is the king's son.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+But why do you _fear_ him?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+It is not the boy I fear.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Who, then?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+It is the woman.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Repelled._] And what fear you from _her_? I care not to slay a woman
+and a child.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I can never breathe in peace while she is there!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Sternly._] What has she done?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Speaking in vague, troubled tones._] When she is near me, even if I
+know it not, her breath runs in my blood and makes me tremble. [_She is
+trembling._
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Be still! Say what she has done. If she has done you a wrong I will slay
+her.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_In the same way._] I might have borne her eyes perchance in my own
+country, with friends near me; but here, all alone----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+What has she done?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_In the same way._] I meant no hurt to her for her sharing the king's
+bed. But when first I saw her and she looked straight into me, there was
+something that turned my heart sick and dimmed my eyes.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+How can I slay her for dreams like these? I know nought of your heart,
+but I can see your beauty. She has not hurt that.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Can you not see a dimness over my face, where it once was bright--and a
+radiance in hers?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Reflecting._] There is a radiance, although she is so sad.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Where got she that radiance? It is not hers. It is the joy and sunlight
+she has sucked out of me!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Looking at her coldly._] I can see no cloud in your face.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Passionately._] No, no, you cannot see. I am rotting, shrivelling,
+dying within; and only she can see how I die!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+All flesh must decay. Tell me one deed of hate she has done, and I will
+slay her.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She has made me childless, that her child may be king!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_To himself._] And Helen never faded at all.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Childless, barren--barren of womb and of heart!--I had courage and
+strength to bear good sons, till she sapped it from me to feed _her_
+son. Nay, there is another thing----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Coldly._] What?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+No, no, you do not believe me! I cannot say it.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+You speak such wild things.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I know not why I am so wild now, and anger you.--When she is near, it
+makes me wild and cruel; but now, I know not why this should come over
+me.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Great Zeus! if it should be true!--Andromache, Andromache, speak and
+answer her.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Is she here? [ANDROMACHE _comes out from the trees by the altar_.]
+Averter of Evil, what is that?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I am but your handmaid, I have done you no hurt.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Nay, now you can see it--the thing I dared not say!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+What is it?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She is no live woman! See! she is dead and sucks the blood of the
+living. Why is she not afraid, like a live woman?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Troubled._] She is deathly white. Why she has no fear I know not.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+What can I answer? The King might slay me, but not this man.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+It was the same but now, when I held death over her.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She has passed through death! She has no fear, no anger, as the living
+have. Why does she never ask for anything? [_Almost beside herself with
+terror._] Faugh! the smell of death clings about all her garments! Kill
+her, kill her! [ORESTES _looks at_ HERMIONE _with a shudder_. HERMIONE,
+_breaking down, continues_.] Oh, friend, friend, I was not like this in
+Sparta.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Queen, I know my heart is with the dead of Troy. Why should that anger
+you?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Looking at_ HERMIONE.] In very truth there is a shadow come over you.
+You seem to be shrunken, and scarce so wondrous beautiful.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_In a weary frightened voice._] Kill her, kill her!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I know not----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+You have eyes. Can you not see there is a fiend working in me?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+There is no fiend. Queen, Queen, why are you so full of hate?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+'Tis your spells have done it! Before I came here I never hated any one.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_To_ ANDROMACHE.] Know you not any cause why she should hate you?
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, stranger, why _do_ men hate?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She has made me feel that I am vile. Slay her, or I go back to the King.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Pyrrhus most like is dead. If I do slay her will you come away with me?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Away? To the ship? Yes; till we come back and take the kingdom!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I will not take your kingdom!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Is it the boy you fear to slay?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+My kingdom must be an ever-changing kingdom. I dreamed for an hour that
+I might stay and rest like other men.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+And why not?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+There be Those watching that will not let me rest.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Those watching? But you have not seen them? _I_ have not seen anything!
+[_To herself._
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Not now. Few men have ever seen them; but I hear their wings on the
+wind. And perchance if I stayed long in one place----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I hear nothing. [_Listening._] No, it cannot be wings on the wind! Oh!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, there is no sound at all. Be not so terrified.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I cannot stay here alone! Oh, I care not for the kingdom.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+We are exiles for ever, both!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Nay, if you love me I can bear anything; if any one will love me.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+I know not if I love or hate you. It was for your passing beauty I came,
+because your eyes beaconed me through the dark of the sea.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Oh, take me; that is all the love I want!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Like those two stars that men call Helen's brethren, immortal, never
+fading----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Oh, I am fading fast, but, perchance, if the spell were off me----
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Nay, you shall never fade. There is a blue sunlit island, waterless,
+desolate--Hear me, daughter of Helen, ageless and deathless!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+I hear.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Some sunset when you are beautiful like a dream I will set you on that
+bright island, and fill my eyes full. And then I will go my ways alone,
+and the fairest of earthly things shall be mine for ever.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+What do you mean?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+No man shall ever see you fade from your loveliness. The gods may take
+you even as they took Helen.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Oh, he is mad! Queen, Queen, go back while there is time.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Shrinking back._] I should die! I am afraid!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Die? Of that I know not. Only never, never fade; perfect for ever
+without age or waning! Daughter of Helen, will you come with me?
+
+     [_A sound of arms outside. They start._
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+Oh, quick! I am yours. Do with me what you will.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Come. [_Sound again._] What is that?
+
+VOICE OF PYRRHUS.
+
+Andromache! Ho! snake of Phrygia, starve at the altar if you will! Your
+plotters are all fled!
+
+     [ORESTES _stands in posture of defence_. HERMIONE _shrinks back_.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_To_ MOLOSSUS.] Cling fast! [_Rushing from the altar towards_ PYRRHUS.]
+Back, my king! Keep back!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_To_ ORESTES, _with a cry_.] Now, now!
+
+     [_Hides her face._
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+[_Waking up slowly._] Is that father coming?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Entering and grasping_ ANDROMACHE.] Think you to die so easily? You
+shall speak first and tell all!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+There is an ambush! Keep back!
+
+     [PYRRHUS _stands with his sword drawn over her_.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Looking up._] More treachery?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Why is the son of Achilles away from the battle?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+You? Pirate! Because your men fled so fast and so far. My servants have
+chased them twenty furlongs from here. Yield!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Loud._] No man shoot nor stir! [_As before._] Your Myrmidons may be
+twenty furlongs from here; my men are in these thickets to right and
+left. What sought you here? Was it to slay Andromache?
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+I sought that when I came. Now I need more.
+
+     [_He poises his spear._ ANDROMACHE _slips back to_ MOLOSSUS _at the
+     altar_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Not raising his spear._] Nay, it was I that should have slain
+Andromache. Go your ways! I only take back my own bride.
+
+     [_Pointing to_ HERMIONE, _whom_ PYRRHUS _now sees for the first
+     time_.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+It _is_ Orestes!--But the queen vowed---- And that oath! Oh, perjured!
+perjured!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_To the rocks and thickets._] O ye in the ambush, strike him down!
+Strike him down! Oh, what is that rushing on the wind?
+
+     [_Puts her hands over her ears as though in terror._
+
+ORESTES.
+
+The oath is fulfilled upon her!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Close to_ PYRRHUS.] My lord, my lord, wait and let him speak. It is he
+that asks you, so there is no dishonour. [_He glares at her._] Nay, you
+may slay me after if I have done wrong. And his men are crowding behind
+these bushes and rocks.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_In a war chant._] The wolves set an ambush, set an ambush for the
+lion; and the lion feasted for many days! Ho, Myrmidons!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+They hear you not. Go back!
+
+     [_He grasps his spear for defence_; PYRRHUS _draws his sword and
+     starts forward_.
+
+VOICE.
+
+[_From behind the rocks._] Now, men of Mycenae!
+
+     [_A shower of arrows strikes_ PYRRHUS.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+It is a murder, a coward's murder!
+
+     [PYRRHUS _staggers to the altar and falls_. ANDROMACHE _bends
+     over, tending him_. MOLOSSUS, _with a cry, snatches_ PYRRHUS'
+     _sword and flies at_ ORESTES, _who disarms him at a blow_.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Hold the boy! Hurt him not!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_In a stupefied tone._] His blood is running down the steps of the
+altar!
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+Where is Molossus? Boy, if you leave these dogs unpunished----
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Nay, curse him not! Oh, my lord, if you have ever loved him, curse him
+not! Let him be free; he will do all that is well.
+
+PYRRHUS.
+
+[_Faintly._] Andromache? Ay, then, so be it. It is the same in the end.
+I am glad I did not slay you, Andromache. [_Dies._
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_As before._] His blood is trickling into the mark of the footprint of
+Thetis! [_Wildly._] Ah, drag him away, or it will be a curse upon us!
+He must not die at the altar!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+_I_ never slew him. I will not touch a man dying at an altar.
+Andromache, touch him not; he will haunt you.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She is not afraid of the haunting of the dead. See, she is whispering in
+his ear. She is doing witchwork to bring him back. [_Crossing to_
+ANDROMACHE, _who is still bending over_ PYRRHUS' _body, and kneeling to
+her_.] Nay, in the goddess's name, Andromache, do not wake him! I have
+wronged you much, but I will make amends; I will set you free. _He_
+would never have done that. Only, do not whisper to him! Do not call him
+back to haunt me!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Hold your peace, traitor and coward! If I _could_ bring him back, think
+you I would stay my voice for you?
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+O God! And the noise on the wind is nearer and nearer!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_To_ HERMIONE.] You did not slay him. Even if he does wake, he will
+only haunt them that slew him.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+He saw them not; he knows them not. He has only seen you and me.
+[_Rapidly._] Oh, in God's name, it is too much! The sound of Their wings
+is all about me, and if I dared look, I know I should see Their faces.
+It is more than one woman can bear. If he wakes I shall go mad!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+It is done now. We will fly in the ship quickly; he will never follow us
+over the seas.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_As before._] _She_ will show him the way! Oh, she will have no pity! I
+have sought so long to slay her. She would not spare me now for all the
+treasures of Egypt. I knew well I should have no peace till I saw her
+dead.--Oh, woman, woman! bend not over him; whisper to him no more!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+I _will_ whisper no more; I will cry aloud--in dead ears, as I have
+cried all my life! [_To_ PYRRHUS.] O thou who hearest me not, who hast
+never heard me, I call again to thee, let there at last be peace! If
+thou hast found thy sleep, oh, cling to it! Never wake nor stir to
+follow these who murdered thee!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+What does she mean? It is all magic. She means that he _is_ to follow
+us!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+The living have never heard me, and the dead cannot hear; but broken and
+dying men know the words that I speak. Remember the one moment before
+utter death, when thine eyes were opened to see and thine ears to hear.
+Remember that, and forget the long waste of days before!
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+She bids him remember!--He will awake. I can feel that he will wake and
+follow us!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+By the bitter hate wherewith once I hated thee; by the blood in the
+streets of Troy and the death-cry of Hector's child; by the love
+wherewith I have loved thee in spite of all--[_the body moves_]--and
+love thee still----
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_With a shriek._] O God! He is waking! [_Grovelling in terror and
+hiding her eyes._] Oh, smite off his feet that he shall not pursue, and
+his hands that he may never lay hold of me!
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+Before thy soul is fled far away, hearken to me and put away thine
+hatred.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_As before._] Smite off his hands and his feet!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+She is not crying him to waken. She is bidding him rest in peace and not
+harm us.
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+It cannot be that; it cannot. I have hated her too sore. It is all
+witchwork or else madness.
+
+     [_She looks up and sees the sword; suddenly clutches it and moves
+     towards_ ANDROMACHE.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+And afterward go and seek Hector, and he will tell thee more, for he
+was wiser and greater than other men. And some day this woman, too, will
+be broken and dying; and then she will see what thou and I have seen,
+and will know what mercy is. [HERMIONE _stabs her_.] Ah!
+
+     [ANDROMACHE _falls over the body of_ PYRRHUS. ORESTES _starts
+     forward and grasps_ HERMIONE.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_To the men holding_ MOLOSSUS.] Hold this wild beast! Let the boy free.
+
+     [ORESTES _and_ MOLOSSUS _bend together over the body of_
+     ANDROMACHE. _The men-at-arms seize_ HERMIONE.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Mother, speak!--Is she dead?
+
+ORESTES.
+
+No, but there is death in her face.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Mother, mother, speak!
+
+ORESTES.
+
+[_Standing up._] We know what she would say---- Young King of Phthia, I
+never sought to slay your father; and for this woman, I would give all
+my wealth to have her alive again.--But I will make atonement: take all
+my gold--[_takes off his chain, and throws it at_ MOLOSSUS' _feet_.
+MOLOSSUS _stands silent_]--and this dagger likewise. There is a bright
+stone in the hilt that keeps off the venom of snakes. [MOLOSSUS _is
+still silent_.] And my cloak was woven by women of Sidon. [_Throws down
+the cloak._
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+[_In a struggling sullen voice._] It was not you that slew her.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Is it the woman? There is your sword. [_Picks it up and gives it him. To
+the men holding_ HERMIONE.] Hold back her arms, men, that the King may
+slay her as he will!
+
+     [_The men bring forward_ HERMIONE, _dazed and stupefied; they hold
+     her so that either breast or throat may receive the sword_.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+Oh, take her away, or I will verily slay her! Let her never set foot
+upon this land again.
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Begone with her to the ship!
+
+     [_The men move off with her._
+
+HERMIONE.
+
+[_Suddenly struggling._] I will not go! Let me free! I will stay and he
+shall slay me!
+
+     [_The men drag her off._
+
+ORESTES.
+
+And for mine own atonement. [_He looks round._] Men, get you gone!--If
+you would have more, here is my sword; and here is my shield, and my
+helmet. [_He lays the arms one by one at_ MOLOSSUS' _feet_.]--My men are
+all gone. The rest is for you to take.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+[_Looking at_ ANDROMACHE.] I will take no more. I will have peace.
+
+     [_Kneels down, bending over the body._
+
+ORESTES.
+
+Peace let it be!--Her face seems strangely joyful.
+
+MOLOSSUS.
+
+I never saw her looking so full of happiness.
+
+ANDROMACHE.
+
+[_Half raising herself, with a radiant smile._] Hector! Hector!
+
+
+
+Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
+London & Edinburgh
+
+
+
+
+      *      *      *      *      *      *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Original spelling and punctuation has been retained.
+
+
+
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