Ores. If you approve it, sir, and are content
To spill the blood of a defenceless child,
The offended Greeks, no doubt, will be appeas'd.
Pyr. Closer to strain the knot of our alliance,
I have determin'd to espouse Hermione.
You come in time to grace our nuptial rites:
In you the kings of Greece will all be present,
And you have right to personate her father,
As his ambassador and brother's son.

Go, prince, renew your visit; tell Hermione,
To-morrow I receive her from your hands.
Ores. Oh, change of fortune! Oh, undone Orestes!
[Aside, and exit.
Pyr. Well, Phoenix! am I still a slave to love?
What think'st thou now? Am I myself again?
Pho. "Tis as it should be; this discovers Pyrrhus;
Shows all the hero: now you are yourself-
The son, the rival of the great Achilles!
Greece will applaud you, and the world confess
Pyrrhus has conquer'd Troy a second time!

Pyr. Nay, Phoenix, now I but begin to triumph;
I never was a conqueror till now.

Believe me, a whole bost, a war of foes,
May sooner be subdo'd than love. Oh, Phoenix!
What ruin have I shunn'd? The Greeks, enrag'd,
Hung o'er me like a gathering storm, and soon
Had burst in thunder on my head; while I
Abandon'd duty, empire, honour, all,

To please a thankless woman!-One kind look
Had quite undone me!

Pho. O, my royal master!

The gods, in favour to you, made her cruel.

Pyr. Thou saw'st with how much scorn she treated me! When I permitted her to see her son,

I hop'd it might have work'd her to my wishes;
I went to see the mournful interview,

And found her bath'd in tears and lost in passion.
Wild with distress, a thousand times she call'd
On Hector's name: and when I spoke in comfort,
And promis'd my protection to her son,

She kiss'd the boy, and call'd again on Hector.
Does she then think that I preserve the boy,
To sooth and keep alive her flame for Hector?

Pha. No doubt she does; and thinks you favour'd in it; But let her go, for an ungrateful woman!

Pyr. I know the thoughts of her proud stubborn heart:

Vain of her charms, and insolent in beauty,

She mocks my rage; and when it threatens loudest,
Expects 'twill soon be humbled into love.
But we shall change our parts, and she shall find
I can be deaf like her, and steel my heart.
She's Hector's widow; I, Achilles' son!
Pyrrhus is born to hate Andromache.

Pho. My royal master, talk of her no more;
I do not like this anger. Your Hermione
Should now engross your thoughts. "Tis time to see her;
"Tis time you should prepare the nuptial rites,

And not rely upon a rival's care:

It may be dangerous.

Pyr. But tell me, Phoenix,

Dost thou not think the proud Andromache
Will be enrag'd, when I shall wed the princess?
Pho. Why does Andromache still haunt your
thoughts?

What is't to you, be she enrag'd or pleas'd?
Let her name perish-think of her no more.

Pyr. No, Phoenix, I have been too gentle with her
I have check'd my wrath, and stifled my resentment:
She knows not yet to what degree I hate her.
Let us return. I'll brave her to her face:
I'll give my anger its free course against her.
Thou shalt see, Phoenix, how I'll break her pride.
Pho. Ob, go not, sir! There's ruin in her eyes!
You do not know your strength. You'll fall before her,
Adore her beauty, and revive her scorn.

Pyr. That were indeed a most unmanly weakness! Thou dost not know me, Phoenix.

Pho. Ah, my prince!

You are still struggling in the toils of love.

Pyr. Canst thou then think I love this woman still? One who repays my passion with disdaiu! A stranger, captive, friendless and forlorn; She and her darling son within my power; Her life a forfeit to the Greeks: yet I Preserve her son, would take her to my throne, Would fight her battles, and avenge her wrongs; And all this while she treats me as her foe!

Pho. You have it in your power to be reveng'd. Pyr. Yes, and I'll show my power! I'll give her cause To hate me! her Astyanax shall die.

What tears will then be shed! How will she then
In bitterness of heart reproach my name!
Then, to complete her woes, will I espouse
Hermione 'twill stab her to the heart!
Pho. Alas, you threaten like a lover still!
Pyr. Phoenix, excuse this struggle of my soul;
"Tis the last effort of expiring love.

Pho. Then hasten, sir, to see the Spartan princess, And turn the bent of your desires on her.

Pyr. Oh! 'tis a heavy task to conquer love, And wean the soul from her accustom'd fondness. But come-a long farewell to Hector's widow. "Tis with a secret pleasure I look back, And see the many dangers I have pass'd. The merchant thus, in dreadful tempests tost, Thrown by the waves on some unlook'd-for coast, Oft turns, and sees, with a delighted eye, Midst rocks and shelves the broken billows fly! And, while the outrageous winds the deep deform, Smiles on the tumult, and enjoys the storm. [Exeunt.

Enter PYLADES and ORESTES.

Pyl. For heaven's sake, sir, compose your ruffled mind,

And moderate your rage!

Ores. No, Pylades,

This is no time for counsel. I am deaf.

Talk not of reason. I have been too patient.

Life is not worth my care. My soul grows desperate. I'll bear her off, or perish in th' attempt.

-by heaven, I will!

I'll force her from his arms

Pyl. Well, 'tis agreed, my friend-we'll force her

hence :

But still consider we are in Epirus.

The court, the guards, Hermione herself,

The very air we breathe, belongs to Pyrrhus.

Good gods! what tempted you to seek her here?
Ores. Lost to myself, I knew not what I did;

My purposes were wild. Perhaps I came
To menace Pyrrhus, and upbraid the woman.

Pyl. This violence of temper may prove fatal.
Ores. It must be more than man to bear these

shocks,

These outrages of fate, with temper.

He tells me that he weds Hermione,

And will to-morrow take her from my hand!
My hand shall sooner tear the tyrant's heart.

Pyl. Your passion blinds you, sir; he's not to blame.
Could you but look into the soul of Pyrrhus,
Perhaps you'll find it tortur'd like your own.
Ores. No, Pylades! 'tis all design. His pride,
To triumph over me, has chang'd his love.
The fair Hermione, before I came,

In all her bloom of beauty, was neglected.
Ah, cruel gods! I thought her all my own!
She was consenting to return to Sparta:
Her heart, divided betwixt rage and love,
Was on the wing to take its leave of Pyrrhus.
She heard my sighs, she pitied my complaints,
She prais'd my constancy. The least indifference
From this proud king, had made Orestes happy!
Pyl. So your fond heart believes!

Think not to force her hence;

But fly yourself from her destructive charms.
Ores. Talk no more!

I cannot bear the thought! She must be mine!
Did Pyrrhus carry thunder in his hand,
I'd stand the bolt, and challenge all his fury,
Ere I resign Hermione. By force

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

And blot his embassy?

Ores. O, Pylades!

My grief weighs heavy on me-'twill distract me!
The gods have set me as their mark, to empty
Their quivers on me. Leave me to myself.
Mine be the danger, mine the enterprize.

All I request of thee, is to return,

And in my place convey Astyanax