I brought on them, fall short of what I suffer.
We both have suffer'd in our turns; and now
Our common foes shall teach us to unite.

Andro. Where does the captive not behold
a foe?

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. Inspir'd by you,
What would I not achieve? Again shall Troy
Rise from its ashes: this right arm shall fix
Her seat of empire, and your son shall reign.
Andro. Such dreams of greatness suit not
my condition:

His hopes of empire perish'd 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
Those bulwarks rise, which Hector could not
guard!

Sir, all I wish for is some quiet exile,
Where far from Greece remov'd, and far from

The vows which you neglect.

Andro. She has no Troy,

No Hector to lament: she has not lost
A husband by your conquests. Such a husband!
(Tormenting thought!) whose death alone has
made

Your sire immortal. Pyrrhus and Achilles
Are both grown great by my calamities.

Groan'd in captivity, and out-liv'd Hector.
Yes, my Astyanax, we'll go together!
Together to the realms of night we'll go!
There to thy ravish'd eyes thy sire I'll show,
And point him out among the shades below.
[Exeunt.

I

I

ACT II.
SCENE 1.

Enter HERMIONE and CLEONE.

Her. Well, I'll be rul'd, Cleone; I will see him: have told Pylades that he may bring him; But trust me, were I left to my own thoughts, I should forbid him yet.

Cle. And why forbid him?

Is he not, madam, still the same Orestes?
Orestes, whose return you oft have wish'd?
The man whose sufferings you so late lamented,
And often prais'd his constancy and love?

Her. That love, that constancy, so ill requited,
Upbraids me to myself, I blush to think
How I have us'd him, and would shun his
presence.

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 tyranniz'd
In Sparta's court, and triumph'd in her charms?
Her insolence at last is well repaid.
I cannot bear the thought.

Cle. You wrong yourself
With unbecoming fears. He knows to 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.
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-

Pyr. Madam, 'tis well! 'tis very well! I find Your will must be obey'd; imperious captive, It shall. Henceforth I blot you from my mind; You teach me to forget your charms; to hate you: For know, inhuman beauty, I have lov'd' Too well to treat you with indifference. Think well upon it; my disorder'd soul Wavers between th'extremes of love and rage. I have 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 My realms, to pleasure an ungrateful woman. Her. No! I must have time Andro. Then he must die! alas, my son 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?

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.

my heart.

[Exeunt Pyrrhus and Attendants. To search out my own thoughts, and sound Andro. I'll go, and in the anguish of my heart, Weep o'er my child; if he must die, my life Be blind to what thou seest: believe me cur'd:

Is wrapt in his; I shall not long survive. 'Tis for his sake that I have suffer'd life,

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, ob, 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

Ores. My embassy

Is at an end; for Pyrrhus has refus'd
To give up Hector's son. Some hidden power
Protects the boy.

Her. Faithless, ungrateful man! [Aside.
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.
And who can tell but I have shar'd your griefs?
Have I ne'er wept in secret? never wish'd
To see Orestes?

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 esteem,
While Pyrrhus has your heart.

Her. Believe me, prince,

Were you as Pyrrhus, I should hate you.
Ores. No.

While he neglects your charms, and courts
another.

Her. And who has told you, prince, that
I'm neglected?

Engag'd to you by solemn oaths and treaties.
Her. His ardour, too, was an excuse to mine: I should be blest, I should be lov'd as he is!
With other eyes he saw me then. Cleone, Yet all this while I die by your disdain,
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.

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.

Ores. Madam, go on;

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 I went to see the mournful interview,

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

And found her bath'd in tears and lost in passion.
Wild with distréss, 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?
Phoe. No doubt she does; and thinks you fa-
vour'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.

Phoe. My royal master, talk of her no more;
I do not like this anger. Your Hermione
Should now engros; 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.

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. What is't to you, be she enrag'd or pleas'd?
Ores. If you approve it, sir, and are content Let her name perish-think of her no more.
To spill the blood of a defenceless child, Pyr. No, Phoenix, I have been too gentle
The offended Greeks, no doubt, will be appeas'd.
with her;

Pyr. But tell me, Phoenix,
Dost thou not think the proud Andromache
Will be enrag'd, when I shall wed the princess?
Phoe. Why does Andromache still haunt
your thoughts?

Pyr. Closer to strain the knot of our alliance, I have check'd my wrath, and stifled my re

sentment:

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.
Phoe. Oh, go not, sir! There's ruin in her
eyes!

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 You do not know your strength. You'll fall
Örestes! [Aside, and exit.
before her,

Pyr. Well, Phoenix! am I still a slave to love? Adore her beauty, and revive her scorn.
What think'st thou now? Am I myself again?
Phoe. '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 host, a war of foes,
May sooner be subdu'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!

Phoe. 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;

Pyr. That were indeed a most unmanly weakness!

Thou dost not know me, Phoenix.

Phoe. 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 pow

Her life a forfeit to the Greeks: yet power;

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!
Phoe. 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!

Phoe. Alas, you threaten like a lover still!

Pyr.Phoenix, excuse this struggle of my soul; 'Tis the last effort of expiring love.

Phoe. 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.

ACT III.
SCENE I.

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
(As Pyrrhus has consented) into Greece.
Go, Pylades -

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 num❜rous
train;

[Exeunt. 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.
Ores. Thou art too good! I trespass on thy
friendship:

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.
My soul grows

Life is not worth my care.

desperate.
I'll bear her off, or perish in th' attempt.
I'll force her from his arms-by heaven, I will!
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. I
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,

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,
remember,

To keep your counsels close, aud hide your
thoughts;

Let not Hermione suspect. No more-
I see her coming, sir.

Ores. Away, my friend;

am advis'd; my all depends upon it.
[Exit Pylades.

Enter HERMIONE and CLEONE.
Madam, your orders are obey'd; I have seen
Pyrrhus, my rival; and have gain'd him for you.
The king resolves to wed you.

Her. So I am told;

And, further, I am inform'd, that you, Orestes,
Are to dispose me for the intended marriage.
Ores. And are you, madam, willing to comply?
Her. What can I do? alas! my faith is
promis'd:

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 comply'd,
And made my duty yield to your entreaties.
Ores. Ah, cruel maid! you knew—but I
have done.

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, But, madam, I shall spare you further pain
She prais'd my constancy. The least indifference On this uneasy theme, and take my leave.
From this proud king, had made Orestes happy!
Pyl. So your fond heart believes!
Think not to force her hence;

All have a right to please themselves in love.
I blame you not. 'Tis true, I hop'd—but you
Are mistress of your heart, and I'm content.
'Tis fortune is my enemy, not you.

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?

[Exit. Her. Cleone, couldst thou think he'd be so

calm?

Cle. Madam, his silent grief sits heavy on him.
He is to be pitied. His too eager love
Has made him busy to his own destruction.
Ilis threats have wrought this change of mind
in Pyrrhus.

Her. Dost thou think Pyrrhus capable of fear?
Whom should the intrepid Pyrrhus fear? The
Greeks?

Did he not lead their harass'd troops to conquest,
When they despair'd, when they retir'd from
Troy,

And sought for shelter in their burning fleets?
Did he not then supply his father's place?
No, my Cleone, he is above constraint;
He acts unforc'd; and where he weds, he loves.
Cle. Oh, that Orestes had remain'd in Greece!
I fear to-morrow will prove fatal to him.
Her. Wilt thou discourse of nothing but
Orestes?

Pyrrhus is mine again! Is mine for ever!
Oh, my Cleone, I am wild with joy!
Pyrrhus, the bold, the brave, the godlike Pyrrhus!
Oh, I could tell thee numberless exploits,
And tire thee with his battles. Oh, Cleone-
Cle. Madam, conceal your joy-I see An-
dromache-

She weeps, and comes to speak her sorrows
to you.

Her. I would indulge the gladness of my heart!

Let us retire-Her grief is out of season.

Enter ANDROMACHE and CEPHISA. Andro. Ah, madam! whither, whither do

you fly?

Where can your eyes behold a sight more

pleasing

Than Hector's widow; suppliant and in tears?
I come not an alarm'd, a jealous foe,

Phoe. I thought so, sir.
Andro. Thou seest what mighty power my
eyes have on him!"

[To Cephisa.

Pyr. What says she, Phoenix?
Andro. I, have no hope left!
Phoe. Let us be gone-Hermione expects you.
Ceph. For heaven's sake, madam, break this
sullen silence.

Andro. My child's already promis'd. [Apart.
Ceph. But not given,
[Apart.
Andro. No, no!- My tears are vain! - His
doom is fix'd! [Apart.
Pyr. See if she deigns to cast one look upon us.
Proud woman!

Andro. I provoke him by my presence. Let us retire.

Pyr. Come, let us satisfy

The Greeks, and give them up this Phrygian boy.
Andro. Ah, sir, recall those words!-What
have you said?

If you give up my son, oh, give up me!
You, who so many times have sworn me
friendship,

Oh, heavens! will you not look with pity
on me?
Is there no hope? Is there no room for pardon?
Pyr. Phoenix will answer you - my word
is pass'd.

Andro. You, who would brave so many
dangers for me.

Pyr. I was your lover then, I now am free.

But you would ne'er vouchsafe to ask it of me.
Now 'tis too late.

Andro. Oh, sir, excuse

The pride of royal blood, that checks my soul,
And knows not how to be importunate.
You know, alas! I was not born to kneel,
To sue for pity, and to own a master.

Pyr. No, in your heart you curse me! you

disdain

To envy you the heart your charms have won-To favour you, 1 might have spar'd his life;
The only man I sought to please, is gone;
Kill'd in my sight, by an inhuman hand.
Hector first taught me love; which my fond heart
Shall ever cherish, till we meet in death.
But, oh, I have a son! And you, one day,
Will be no stranger to a mother's fondness:
But heaven forbid that you should ever know
A mother's sorrow for an only son,
Her joy, her bliss, her last surviving comfort!
When every hour she trembles for his life!
Your power o'er Pyrrhus may relieve my fears.
Alas, what danger is there in a child,
Sav'd from the wreck of a whole ruin'd empire?
Let me go hide him in some desert isle:
You may rely upon my tender care
To keep him far from perils of ambition:
All he can learn of me will be to weep!
Her. Madam, 'tis easy to conceive your grief;
But it would ill become me to solicit
In contradiction to my father's will:
'Tis he who urges to destroy your son.
Madam, if Pyrrhus must be wrought to pity,
No woman does it better than yourself.
If you gain him, I shall comply of course.
[Exit with Cleone.
Andro. Didst thou not mind with what
disdain she spoke?

My gen'rous flame, and scorn to be oblig'd.
But I shall leave you to your great resentments.
Let us go, Phoenix, and appease the Greeks.
Andro. Then let me die, and let me go to
Hector.

Youth and prosperity have made her vain;
She has not seen the fickle turns of life.
Ceph. Madam, were I as you I'd take her
counsel;

Ceph. But, madam-
Andro. What can I do more? The tyrant
Sees my distraction, and insults my tears.
[To Cephisa.

Behold, how low you have reduc'd a queen!
These eyes have seen my country laid in ashes,
My kindred fall in war, my father slain,
My husband dragg'd in his own blood, my son
Condemn'd to bondage, and myself a slave;
Yet, in the midst of these unheard-of woes,
"Twas some relief to find myself your captive;
And that my son, deriv'd from ancient kings,
Since he must serve, had Pyrrhus for his master.
When Priam kneel'd, the great Achilles wept:
I hop'd I should not find his son less noble.
I thought the brave were still the more com-
passionate.

I'll speak my own distress: one look from you Oh, do not, sir, divide me from my child!
Will vanquish Pyrrhus, and confound the If he must die
Greeks-

See, where he comes. Lay hold on this occasion.

Enter PYRRHUS and PHOENIX. Pyr. Where is the princess? Did you not inform me Hermione was here? [To Phoenix.

Pr. Phoenix, withdraw awhile.

[Exit Phoenix.
Rise, madam. Yet you may preserve your son.
I find, whenever I provoke your tears,
I furnish you with arms against myself.
I thought my hatred fix'd before I saw you.
Oh, turn your eyes upon me while I speak!