University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Orestes, Pyrrhus, and Phænix.
Orest.
Before I speak the Message of the Greeks,
Permit me, Sir, to glory in the Title
Of their Ambassador; since I behold
Troy's Vanquisher, and Great Achilles Son.
Nor does the Son rise short of such a Father:
If Hector fell by him, Troy fell by you
But, what your Father never would have done,
You do. You cherish the Remains of Troy;
And, by an ill timed Pity, keep alive
The dying Embers of a Ten-years War.
Have you so soon forgot the mighty Hector?
The Greeks remember his high-brandish'd Sword,
That fill'd their States with Widows and with Orphans;
For which they call for Vengeance on his Son.
Who knows what he may one Day prove? Who knows
But he may brave us in our Ports; and, fill'd
With Hector's Fury, set our Fleets on blaze?
You may, your self, live to repent your Mercy.
Comply, then, with the Grecians just Demands:
Satiate their Vengeance, and preserve your self.

Pyr.
The Greeks are for my Safety more concern'd
Than I desire. I thought your Kings were met
On more Important Councils. When I heard
The Name of their Ambassador, I hoped
Some glorious Enterprize was taking Birth.
Is Agamemnon's Son dispatch'd for this?
And do the Grecian Chiefs, renown'd in War,
A Race of Heroes, join in close Debate,
To plot an Infant's Death?—What Right has Greece
To ask his Life? Must I, must I alone,
Of all her scepter'd Warriors, be deny'd
To treat my Captive as I please? Know, Prince,
When Troy lay smoaking on the Ground, and each
Proud Victor shared the Harvest of the War;
Andromache and this her Son were mine;
Were mine by Lot: And who shall wrest them from me?
Ulysses bore away old Priam's Queen;
Cassandra was your own great Father's Prize:
Did I concern my self in what they won?
Did I send Embassies to claim their Captives?

Orest.
But, Sir, we fear, for you and for our selves,
Troy may again revive, and a new Hector
Rise in Astyanax. Then think betimes—

Pyr.
Let dastard Souls be timorously wise:
But tell them, Pyrrhus knows not how to form
Far-fancy'd Ills, and Dangers out of sight.

Orest.
Sir, call to mind the unrivall'd Strength of Troy;
Her Walls, her Bulwarks, and her Gates of Brass;
Her Kings, her Heroes, and embattel'd Armies!

Pyr.
I call them all to mind; and see them all
Confus'd in Dust; all mixt in one wide Ruin;
All but a Child, and he in Bondage held.
What Vengeance can we fear from such a Troy?
If they have sworn to extinguish Hector's Race,
Why was their Vow for twelve long Months deferr'd?
Why was he not in Priam's Bosom slain?
He should have fallen among the slaughter'd Heaps,
Whelm'd under Troy. His Death had then been just,
When Age and Infancy, alike in vain,
Pleaded their Weakness; when the heat of Conquest,
And Horrours of the Night, rouz'd all our Rage,
And blindly hurry'd us through Scenes of Death.
My Fury then was without Bounds: But now,
My Wrath appeas'd, must I be cruel still?
And, deaf to all the tender Calls of Pity,
Like a cool Murderer, bath my Hands in Blood?
An Infant's Blood?—No, Prince—Go, bid the Greeks
Mark out some other Victim; my Revenge
Has had its Fill. What has escaped from Troy
Shall not be saved to perish in Epirus.

Orest.
I need not tell you, Sir, Astyanax
Was doom'd to Death in Troy; nor how
The crafty Mother saved her darling Son.
The Greeks do now but urge their former Sentence:
Nor is't the Boy, but Hector they pursue;
The Father draws their Vengeance on the Son:
The Father, who so oft in Grecian Blood
Has drench'd his Sword: The Father, whom the Greeks
May seek even here.—Prevent them, Sir, in time.

Pyr.
No! Let them come; since I was born to wage
Eternal Wars. Let them now turn their Arms
On him, who conquer'd for them: Let them come,
And in Epirus seek another Troy.
'Twas thus they recompens'd my God-like Sire;
Thus was Achilles thank'd: But, Prince, remember,
Their black Ingratitude then cost them dear.

Orest.
Shall Greece then find a Rebel Son in Pyrrhus?

Pyr.
Have I then conquer'd to depend on Greece?

Orest.
Hermione will sway your Soul to Peace,
And mediate 'twixt her Father and your self:
Her Beauty will enforce my Embassie.

Pyr.
Hermione may have her Charms; and I
May love her still, tho' not her Father's Slave.
I may in time give Proofs, that I am a Lover;
But never must forget, that I am a King.
Mean while, Sir, you may see fair Helen's Daughter:
I know how near in Blood you stand ally'd.
That done, you have my Answer, Prince. The Greeks
No doubt expect your quick Return.