Her insolence at last is well repaid.
I cannot bear the thought.
Cle. You wrong yourself
With unbecoming fears. He knows too well
Your beauty and your worth. Your lover comes not
To offer insults, but to repeat his vows,
And breathe his ardent passion at your feet.
But, madam, what's your royal father's will?
What orders do your letters bring from Sparta?
Her. His orders are, if Pyrrhus still delay
The nuptials, and refuse to sacrifice
This Trojan boy, I should with speed embark,
And with their embassy return to Greece.
Cle. What would you more? Orestes comes in time
To save your honour. Pyrrhus cools apace:
Prevent his falsehood, and forsake him first.
I know you hate him; you have told me so.
Her. Hate him! My injur'd honour bids me hate him.
The ungrateful man, to whom I fondly gave
My virgin heart! the man I lov'd so dearly;
The man I doated on. O, my Cleone!
How is it possible I should not hate him?
Cle. Then give him over, madam. Quit his court, And with Orestes
Her. No! I must have time
To work up all my rage; to meditate
A parting full of horror! My revenge
Will be but too much quicken'd by the traitor.
Cle. Do you then wait new insults, new affronts? To draw you from your father! Then to leave you! In his own court to leave you, for a captive! If Pyrrhus can provoke you, be has done it.
Her. Why dost thou heighten my distress? I fear To search out my own thoughts, and sound my heart, Be blind to what thou seest: believe me cur'd: Flatter my weakness; tell me I have conquer'd: Think that my injur'd soul is set against him; And do thy best to make me think so too. Cle. Why would you loiter here then? Her. Let us fly!
Let us be gone! I leave him to his captive!
Let him go kneel, and supplicate his slave.
Let us be gone! But what if he repent?
What, if the perjur'd prince again submit,
And sue for pardon? What, if he renew
His former vows? But, oh, the faithless man!
He slights me; drives me to extremities. However,
I'll stay, Cleone, to perplex their loves:
I'll stay, till, by an open breach of contract,
I make him hateful to the Greeks. Already
Their vengeance have I drawn upon the son;
The second embassy shall claim the mother;
I will redouble all my griefs upon her.
Cle. Ah, madam! whither does your rage transport you?
Andromache, alas! is innocent.
A woman plung'd in sorrow, dead to love;
And when she thinks on Pyrrhus, "tis with horror.
Her. Would I had done so too! he had not then
Betray'd my easy faith. But I, alas!
Discover'd all the fondness of my soul;
I made no secret of my passion to him,
Nor thought it dangerous to be sincere.
My eyes, my tongue, my actions spoke my heart.
Cle. Well might you speak without reserve, to one
Engag'd to you by solemn oaths and treaties.
Her. His ardour, too, was an excuse to mine:
With other eyes he saw me then. Cleone,
Thou may'st remember, every thing conspir'd
To favour him: my father's wrongs aveng'd;
The Greeks triumphant; fleets of Trojan spoils;
His mighty sire's, his own immortal fame;
His eager love; all, all conspir'd against me.
But I have done; I'll think no more of Pyrrhus :
Orestes wants not merit, and he loves me.
My gratitude, my honour, both plead for him;
And if I've power o'er my own heart, 'tis his.
Cle. Madam, he comes
Her. Alas! I did not think
He was so near! I wish I might not see him.
How am I to interpret, sir, this visit?
Is it a compliment of form, or love?
Ores. Madam, you know my weakness. Tis my fate To love unpity'd; to desire to see you;
And still to swear each time shall be the last.
My passion breaks through my repeated oaths,
And every time I visit you I'in perjur'd.
Even now I find my wounds all bleed afresh;
I blush to own it, but I know no cure.
I call the gods to witness, I have tried
Whatever man could do (but tried in vain),
To wear you from my mind. Through stormy seas,
And savage climes, in a whole year of absence,
I courted dangers, and I long'd for death.
Her. Why will you, prince, indulge this mournful tale?
It ill becomes the ambassador of Greece
To talk of dying and of love. Remember
The kings you represent: shall their revenge
Be disappointed by your ill-tim'd passion?
Discharge your embassy. "Tis not Orestes
The Greeks desire should die.
Is at an end; for Pyrrhus has refus'd
To give up Hector's son.
Her. Faithless, ungrateful man!
Ores. I now prepare for Greece; but ere I go, Would hear my final doom pronounc'd by you. What do I say? I do already hear it!
My doom is fix'd: I read it in your eyes.
Her. Will you then still despair? be still suspicious? What have I done? wherein have I been cruel?
"Tis true, you find me in the court of Pyrrhus;
But 'twas my royal father sent me hither.
your griefs?
Have I ne'er wept in secret? never wish'd
To see Orestes?
And who can tell but I have shar'd
Ores. Wish'd to see Orestes!
O joy! O ecstasy! My soul's entranc'd!
O charming princess! O transcendant maid!
My utmost wish!-Thus, thus let me express
My boundless thanks!-I never was unhappy.
Am I Orestes?
Her. You are Orestes:
The same, unalter'd, generous, faithful lover;
The prince whom I esteem, whom I lament,
And whom I fain would teach my heart to love.
Ores. Ay, there it is!-I have but your esteemn,
While Pyrrhus has your heart.
Her. Believe me, prince,
Were you as Pyrrhus, I should hate you.
Ores. No.
I should be blest, I should be lov'd as he is!
Yet all this while I die by your disdain,
While he neglects your charms, and courts another. Her. And who has told you, prince, that I'm neglected?
Has Pyrrhus said-(Oh, I shall go distracted!)
Has Pyrrhus told you so? or is it you
Who think thus meanly of me?-Sir, perhaps,
All do not judge like you.
Insult me still; I'm us'd to bear your scorn.
Her. Why am I told how Pyrrhus loves or hates?-
Go, prince, and arm the Greeks against the rebel;
Let them lay waste his country, rase his towns,
Destroy his fleets, his palaces-himself!
Go, prince, and tell me then how much I love him.
Ores. To hasten his destruction, come yourself';
And work your royal father to his ruin.
Her. Mean while he weds Andromache.
Ores. Ah, princess!
What is't I hear?
Her. What infamy for Greece,
If he should wed a Phrygian, and a captive!
Ores. Is this your hatred, madam?-Tis in vain
To hide your passion; every thing betrays it:
Your looks, your speech, your anger, nay, your silence;
Your love appears in all; your secret flame
Breaks out the more, the more you would conceal it.
Her. Your jealousy perverts my meaning still,
And wrests each circumstance to your disquiet:
My very hate is construed into fondness.
Ores. Impute my fears, if groundless, to my love.
Her. Then hear me, prince. Obedience to a father
First brought me hither; and the same obedience
Detains me here, till Pyrrhus drive me hence,
Or my offended father shall recall me.
Tell this proud king that Menelaus scorns
To match his daughter with a foe of Greece:
Bid him resign Astyanax or me.
If he persists to guard the hostile boy,
Hermione embarks with you for Sparta.
[Exeunt Hermione and Cleone.
Ores. Then is Orestes blest! my griefs are fled!
Fled like a dream!-Methinks I tread in air!
Pyrrhus, enamour'd of his captive queen,
Will thank me, if I take her rival hence.
He looks not on the princess with my eyes.
Surprising happiness! unlook'd-for joy!
Never let love despair. The prize is mine!
Be smooth, ye seas, and ye propitious winds,
Breathe from Epirus to the Spartan coasts!
I long to view the sails unfurl'd!-But see!
Pyrrhus approaches in a happy hour.
Enter PYRRHUS and PHENIX.
Pyr. I was in pain to find you, prince. My warm, Ungovern'd temper would not let me weigh The importance of your embassy, and hear You argue for my good. I was to blame. I since have pois'd your reasons: and I thank My good allies: their care deserves my thanks. You have convinc'd me, that the weal of Greece, My father's honour, and my own repose, Demand that Hector's race should be destroy'd. I shall deliver up Astyanax,
And you yourself shall bear the victim hence.
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