University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Orestes, Hermione, Cleone.
Orest.
Ah Madam, is it true? does then Orestes
At length attend you by your own Commands?
What can I do—

Herm.
Orestes, do you love me?

Orest.
What means that Question, Princess? do I love you?
My Oaths, my Perjuries, my Hopes, my Fears,
My Farewel, my Return, all speak my Love.

Herm.
Avenge my Wrongs, and I believe them all:

Orest.
It shall be done—my Soul has catch'd the Alarm!
We'll spirit up the Greeks—I'll lead them on:
Your Cause shall animate our Fleets and Armies.
Let us return: let us not lose a Moment,
But urge the Fate of this devoted Land:
Let us depart.

Her.
No Prince, let us stay here!
I will have Vengeance here—I will not carry
This load of Infamy to Greece: nor trust
The Chance of War to vindicate my Wrongs:
Ere I depart I'll make Epirus mourn;
If you avenge me, let it be this Instant;
My rage brooks no Delay—haste to the Temple,
Haste Prince, and sacrifice him:

Orest.
Whom?

Herm.
Why Pyrrhus.

Orest.
Pyrrhus? did you say Pyrrhus?

Herm.
You demurr?
Oh fly, be gone! give me not time to think!
Talk not of Laws—he tramples on all Laws—
Let me not hear him justify'd,—away.

Orest.
You cannot think I'll justify my Rival.
Madam, your Love has made him criminal.
You shall have Vengeance; I'll have Vengeance too:
But let our Hatred be profest and open;
Let us alarm all Greece, denounce a War;
Let us attack him in his Strength, and hunt him down
By Conquest: should I turn a base Assassin,
'Twould sully all the Kings I represent.

Herm.
Have not I been dishonour'd? set at nought?
Expos'd to publick Scorn—and will you suffer
The Tyrant who dares use me thus, to live?
Know Prince, I hate him more than once I loved him.
The Gods alone can tell how once I loved him:
Yes, the false perjur'd Man, I once did love him;
And spight of all his Crimes and broken Vows,
If he should live I may relapse—who knows
But I to Morrow may forgive his Wrongs!

Orest.
First let me tear him piecemeal—he shall dye.
But Madam, give me leisure to contrive
The Place, the Time, the Manner of his Death:
Yet I'm a Stranger in the Court of Pyrrhus;
Scarce have I set my Foot within Epirus,
When you enjoin me to destroy the Prince.
It shall be done this very Night.

Herm.
But now,
This very Hour he weds Andromache;
The Temple shines with pomp; the golden Throne
Is now prepared; the joyful Rites begin;
My Shame is publick—oh be speedy Prince!
My wrath's Impatient—Pyrrhus lives too long!
Intent on Love and heedless of his Person,
He covers with his Guards the Trojan Boy.
Now is the Time; assemble all your Greeks:
Mine shall assist them; let their Fury loose:
Already they regard him as a Foe.
Be gone Orestes—kill the faithless Tyrant!
My Love shall recompence the glorious Deed.

Orest.
Consider, Madam—

Herm.
You but mock my Rage!
I was contriving how to make you happy.
Think you to merit by your idle Sighs;
And not attest your Love by one brave Action
Go! with your boasted Constancy! and leave
Hermione to execute her own Revenge!
I blush to think how my too easie Faith
Has twice been baffled in one shameful Hour!

Orest.
Hear me but speak!—you know I'll dye to serve you!

Herm.
I'll go my self: I'll stab him at the Altar:
Then drive the Poignard, reeking with his Blood,
Through my own Heart. In Death we shall unite:
Better to dye with him, than live with you!

Orest.
That were to make him blest; and me more wretched:
Madam, he dyes by me!—Have you a Foe,
And shall I let him live?—My Rival too?
Ere yon Meridian Son declines, he dyes:
And you shall say, that I deserve your Love.

Herm.
Go Prince; strike home! And leave the rest to me.
Let all your Ships stand ready for our Flight.