University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Hermione, Cleone, and Orestes.
Her.
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, 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 am 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 try'd
Whatever Man could do, (but try'd 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 Ambassadour of Greece
To talk of Dying, and of Love. Remember
The Kings you represent: Shall their Revenge
Be disappointed by your ill-timed Passion?
Discharge your Embassy: 'Tis not Orestes
The Greeks desire should dye.

Orest.
My Embassy
Is at an End: For Pyrrhus has refused
To give up Hector's Son. Some hidden Power
Protects the Boy.

Her.
Faithless, ungrateful Man!

[Aside.
Orest.
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 fixt: 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 wish'd
To see Orestes?—

Orest.
Wish'd to see Orestes!—
Oh Joy! Oh Extasie! My Soul's intranced!
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 unalter'd, 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 Esteem;
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 lov'd as he is!—
Yet all this while I dye by your Disdain;
While he neglects your Charms, and courts another.

Her.
And who has told you, Prince, that I am neglected?
Has Pyrrhus said—(Oh, I shall grow 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 am 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; 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 your self;
And work your Royal Father to his Ruin.

Her.
Mean while he weds Andromache!

Orest.
Ah, Princess!
What is't I hear?

Her.
What Infamy for Greece,
If he shou'd wed a Phrygian, and a Captive!

Orest.
Is this your Hatred, Madam?—'Tis in vain
You 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 Jealousie perverts my Meaning still,
And wrests each Circumstance to your Disquiet:
My very Hate is construed into Fondness.

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 Menelaüs 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.