Pyr. Forget the term of hatred, and behold A friend in Pyrrhus! Give me but to hope! I'll free your son; I'll be a father to him: Myself will teach him to avenge the Trojans. I'll go in person to chastise the Greeks,

Both for your wrongs and mine. Inspired by

you,

What would I not atchieve! Again shall Troy
Rise from its ashes: this right arm shall fix
Her seat of empire; and your son shall reign.
Andr. Such dreams of greatness suit not my
condition:

His hopes of empire perished with his father.
No; thou imperial city, ancient Troy,
Thou pride of Asia, founded by the gods!
Never, oh, never must we hope to see

For know, inhuman beauty, I have loved
Too well to treat you with indifference.
Think well upon it: my disordered soul
Wavers between the extremes of love and rage
I've been too tame; I will awake to vengeance
The son shall answer for the mother's scorn.
The Greeks demand him: nor will I endanger

The vows which you neglect.

Andr. She has no Troy,

No Hector to lament: she has not lost

Andr. Then he must die! Alas, my son must die!

He has no friend, no succour left, beside
His mother's tears, and his own innocence.
Pyr. Go, madam; visit this unhappy son.
The sight of him may bend your stubborn heart,
And turn to softness your unjust disdain.
I shall once more expect your answer. Go,
And think, while you embrace the captive boy,
Think that his life depends on your resolves.

[Exit Pyrrhus, &c. Andr. I'll go and in the anguish of my heart, Weep o'er my child-If he must die, my life

Is wrapt in his; I shall not long survive.
'Tis for his sake that I have suffered life,
Groaned in captivity, and out-lived Hector.
Yes, my Astyanax, we'll go together!
Together to the realms of night we'll go !
There to thy ravished eyes thy sire I'll shew,

band!

[Exit.

SCENE I.

HERMIONE and CLEONE.

Her. Well, I'll be ruled, Cleone: I will see him;

I have told Pylades that he may bring him; But trust me, were I left to my own thoughts, I should forbid him yet.

Cleo. And why forbid him?

Is he not, madam, still the same Orestes?
Orestes, whose return you oft have wished?
The man whose sufferings you so oft lamented,
And often praised his constancy and love?
Her. That love, that constancy, so ill requited,
Upbraids me to myself! I blush to think
How I have used him; and would shun his pre-

sence.

What will be my confusion when he sees me
Neglected, and forsaken, like himself?
Will he not say, 'Is this the scornful maid,

'The proud Hermione, that tyrannized 'In Sparta's court, and triumphed in her charms? 'Her insolence at last is well repaid.'

I cannot bear the thought!

Cleo. 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 deny
The nuptials, and refuse to sacrifice
This Trojan boy, I should with speed embark,
And with their embassy return to Greece.

Cleo. 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 injured honour bids me
hate him.

The ungrateful man, to whom I fondly gave
My virgin heart; the man I loved so dearly;
The man I doated on! Oh, my Cleone!
How is it possible I should not hate him?

To favour him: my father's wrongs avenged;
The Greeks triumphant; fleets of Trojan spoils;
His mighty sire's, his own immortal fame;
His eager love; all, all conspired against me!
-But I have done: I'll think no more of Pyr-
rhus.

Orestes wants not merit; and he loves me.

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 quickened by the traitor. Cleo. 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, he 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 cured:
Flatter my weakness; tell me I have conquered;
Think that my injured soul is set against him;
And do thy best to make me think so too.

Cleo. Why would you loiter here, then?
Her. Let us fly!

Let us begone! I leave him to his captive:
Let him go kneel, and supplicate his slave.
Let us begone! But what if he repent?
What if the perjured 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!-How-

ever,

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,
Their second embassy shall claim the mother:
I will redouble all my griefs on her!

Cleo. Ah, madam, whither does your rage transport you? Andromache, alas! is innocent.

A woman plunged 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

Betrayed my casy faith. But I, alas!
Discovered 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.
Cleo. Well might you speak without reserve

to one,

Engaged to you by solemn oaths and treaties.
Her. His ardour too was an excuse for mine:
With other eyes he saw me then! Cleone,
Thou mayst remember, every thing conspired

And if I have power over my own heart, 'tis his. Cleo. Madam, he comes

Her. Alas, I did not think

He was so near! I wish I might not see him.
Enter ORESTES.

How am I to interpret, sir, this visit?
Is it a compliment of form or love?

Orest. Madam, you know my weakness. "Tis my fate

To love unpitied 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 am perjured.
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

I go,

Would hear my final doom pronounced by you.
What do I say I do already hear it!
My doom is fixed: 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.
And who can tell but I have shared your griefs?
Have I ne'er wept in secret? Never wished
To see Orestes?

Orest. Wished to see Orestes !—
Oh joy! oh ecstacy! My soul's entranced!
Oh, charming princess! Oh, transcendent 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 unaltered, generous, faithful lover: The prince whom I esteem; whom I lament; And whom I fain would teach my heart to love! Orest. Ay, there it is!-I have but your es

teem,

While Pyrrhus has your heart!

Her. Believe me, prince,

Were you as Pyrrhus, I should hate you!
Orest. No!

I should be blest! I should be loved 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!

Orest. Madam, go on!

Insult me still: I'm used 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! raze his towns;
Destroy his fleets; his palaces;-himself!—
Go, prince, and tell me then how much I love

him.

Orest. To hasten his destruction, come yourself;

And work your royal father to his ruin.
Her. Meanwhile he weds Andromache!
Orest. Ah, princess!

What is it I hear!

Her. What infamy for Greece,

If he should wed a Phrygian, and a captive! Orest. Is this your hatred, madain?—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 foudness.

Orest. 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.
[Exit Her. and Cleone.

Fled like a dream!-Methinks I tread in air!
Pyrrhus, enamoured of his captive queen,
Will thank me, if I take her rival hence:
He looks not on the princess with my eyes!
Surprising happiness!-Unlooked-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 unfurled !-But, see!
Pyrrhus approaches in a happy hour.

Enter PYRRHUS, and PHOENIX.

Pyr. I was in pain to find you, prince. My

warm

Ungoverned 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 poised your reasons; and I thank
My good allies: their care deserves my thanks.
You have convinced me, that the weal of Greece,
My father's honour, and my own repose,
Demand that Hector's race should be destroyed.
I shall deliver up Astyanax ;

And you, yourself, shall bear the victim hence.

Orest. If you approve it, sir, and are content To spill the blood of a defenceless child, The offended Greeks, no doubt, will be appeased. Pyr. Closer to strain the knot of our alliance, I have determined to espouse Hermione. You come in time to grace our nuptial rites : In you the kings of Greece will all be present; And you have right to personate her father, As his ambassador, and brother's son. Go, prince, renew your visit; tell Hermione, To-morrow I receive her from your hands. Orest. [Aside.] Oh, change of fortune! Oh, undone Orestes : [Exit Orestes.

Pyr. Well, Phoenix, am I still a slave to love? What think'st thou now? Am I myself again? Phan. 'Tis as it should be: this discovers

Pyrrhus;

Shews all the hero. Now you are yourself!
The son, the rival of the great Achilles !
Greece will applaud you; and the world confess,
Pyrrhus has conquered Troy a second time.
Pyr. Nay, Phoenix, now I but begin to
triumph:
I never was a conqueror
'till now.
Believe me, a whole host, a war of foes,
May sooner be subdued, than love. Oh, Phoenix,
What ruin have I shunned! The Greeks enraged,
Hung o'er me, like a gathering storm, and soon
Had burst in thunder on my head; while I
Abandoned duty, empire, honour, all,
To please a thankless woman!-One kind look
Had quite undone me!

Phan. Oh, my royal master!

The gods, in favour to you, made her cruel. Pyr. Thou sawest with how much scorn she treated me!

When I permitted her to see her son,

I hoped it might have worked her to my wishes. I went to see the mournful interview,

And found her bathed in tears, and lost in passion.

Wild with distress, a thousand times she called
On Hector's name: and when I spoke in comfort,
And promised my protection to her son,
She kissed the boy; and called again on Hector:
Then, strained him in her arms; and cried, "Tis
he!

'Tis he himself! his eyes, his every feature!
His very frown, and his stern look already!
'Tis he: Tis my loved lord whom I embrace!'
Does she then think, that I preserve the boy,
To soothe, and keep alive her flame for Hector?
Phan. No doubt, she does; and thinks you fa-
voured 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.

Phan. 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 enraged, when I shall wed the princess? Phan. Why does Andromache still haunt your thoughts?

What is't to you, be she enraged or pleased?
Let her name pérish: think of her no more!
Pyr. No, Phoenix!-I have been too gentle
with her,

I've checked my wrath, and stiffled my resent

ment:

She knows not yet to what degree I hate her, Let us return :- -I'll brave her to her face:

Thou dost not know me, Phoenix.
Phan. 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 disdain !
A stranger, captive, friendless, and forlorn;
She and her darling son within my power;
His 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!

Phan. You have it in your power to be revenged.

Pyr. Yes-and I'll shew 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!

Phan. Alas, you threaten like a lover still! Pyr. Phoenix, excuse this struggle of my soul: 'Tis the last effort of expiring love.

Phan. Then hasten, sir, to see the Spartan princess;

And turn the bent of your desires on her.

Pyr. Oh! 'tis a heavy task to conquer love, And wean the soul from her accustomed fond

SCENE. I.

Enter PYLADES and ORESTES,

Life is not worth my care. My soul grows des

perate.

I'll bear her off, or perish in the attempt.

ruffled mind,

And moderate your rage!

Orest. No, Pylades!

This is no time for counsel.- -I am deaf. Talk not of reason! I have been too patient.

Pyl. Well, 'tis agreed, my friend :-We'll force her hence,

But still consider, we are in Epirus.
The court, the guards, Hermione herself,
The very air we breathe, belongs to Pyrrhus.

Go, Pylades————

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'd find it tortured, like your own.
Orest. No, Pylades! 'Tis all design-His pride,
To triumph over me, has changed 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 praised my constancy ;- -The least indiffer-

Pyl. Believe me, prince,

Pyl. Lead on, my friend, lead on!
Let us bear off Hermione! No toil,
No danger can deter a friend :-Lead on!
Draw up the Greeks; summon your numerous
train:

The ships are ready, and the wind sits fair:
There eastward lies the sea; the rolling waves
Break on those palace-stairs. I know each pass,
Each avenue and outlet of the court.
This very night we'll carry her on board.

Orest. Thou art too good! I trespass on thy friendship,

But, Oh! excuse a wretch, whom no man pities,
Except thyself: one just about to lose

The treasure of his soul; whom all mankind
Conspire to hate, and one who hates himself.
When will my friendship be of use to thee?
Pyl. The question is unkind. But now re-

left her,

Orest. Oh, Pylades!

My grief weighs heavy on me :-'Twill distract me !

O leave me to myself!-Let not thy friendship
Involve thee in my woes. Too long already,
Too long hast thou been punished for my crimes.
It is enough, my friend !—It is enough!
Let not thy generous love betray thee farther:
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

VOL. I.

The king resolves to wed you.

Her. So I am told:

And farther, I am informed that you, Orestes, Are to dispose me for the intended marriage. Orest. And are you, madam, willing to comply?

Her. Could I imagine Pyrrhus loved me still?
After so long delays, who would have thought
His hidden flames would shew themselves at last,
And kindle in his breast, when mine expired?
I can suppose, with you, he fears the Greeks;
That it is interest, and not love, directs him;
And that my eyes had greater power o'er you.
Orest. No, princess, no! It is too plain he
loves you.

Your eyes do what they will, and cannot fail
To gain a conquest, where you wish they should.
Her. What can I do? alas! my faith is pro-
mised.

Can I refuse what is not mine to give?
A princess is not at her choice to love;
All we have left us is a blind obedience :
And yet, you see, how far I had complied,
And made my duty yield to your intreaties.

Orest. Ah, cruel maid! you knew-but I have done.

All have a right to please themselves in love: I blame not you. 'Tis true, I hoped—but you Are mistress of your heart, and I'm content.

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