Part 2

[_Who has kept back, by the altar._] Take up your pitcher, and begone, woman!

PYRRHUS.

[_Turning upon_ HERMIONE.] Now, by Peleus, daughter of Helen, what would you?

HERMIONE.

That when my slave is gone you may give me greeting.

PYRRHUS.

I give you greeting. But I praise not your greeting to me.

HERMIONE.

If I send my women to draw water at sunrise, shall the water not be back when the shadows are thus?

[_Pointing to shadows._

PYRRHUS.

There be other women meeter to draw water than Hector's wife. I tell you there is no man on this earth I should so joy to have slain as Hector.

HERMIONE.

If he had witchwork to help him, he may have been a deadly fighter.

ANDROMACHE.

[_To_ PYRRHUS, _who has laid his hand on her shoulder_.] Nay, master, the hall must be made ready.

PYRRHUS.

Well, take our boy, and be with him at the castle when I come. Stay, think of a boon to ask of me in return for the day's good work. And make it a rich boon; I shall not stint you.

ANDROMACHE.

I know it now; but I fear to anger my lord.

PYRRHUS.

Ask on; yet I would not have you ask for freedom from me.

ANDROMACHE.

My master, what could I do now with freedom? Only suffer Molossus to make atonement to the Napæans for the man he slew. He may give back the oxen, and I will add of my own.

PYRRHUS.

[_Displeased._] Atonement! Who are the Napæans to seek atonement from me?

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, my lord, it was scarce a righteous slaying.

PYRRHUS.

Not righteous! [_Scornfully._] Then perchance you would have me cut off the herd-boy's hands and feet, for fear his ghost should come after us? Not righteous! What is it you fear?

ANDROMACHE.

[_Putting her hand on_ MOLOSSUS' _shoulder_.] He is but a boy, my lord! And if there is no atonement, they will watch day and night to slay him.

MOLOSSUS.

Mother, I fear them not!

ANDROMACHE.

They will raid us again----

PYRRHUS.

I can do them twice and four times the hurt they can do me.

ANDROMACHE.

They cannot hurt _us_ in our castle, but they can burn the villages in the plain and make dearth and famine.

MOLOSSUS.

Oh, Mother, why should I make atonement for my first man?

PYRRHUS.

It was only a boy, too. I cannot ask forgiveness for one boy!

ANDROMACHE.

It will cost little. I have three carpets of Sidon work----

PYRRHUS.

And the oxen! I have given them to the lad; and one is already eaten. Well, well, it is for the lad to say if he will give back his oxen and ask for pardon.

HERMIONE.

[_With a ring of emotion in her voice._] Shall my chests be made empty because your slave's child is afraid?

MOLOSSUS.

I am not afraid. I will never atone!

PYRRHUS.

[_To_ HERMIONE.] Peace, O Queen! [_To_ ANDROMACHE.] Go! If Molossus wills, he can make his atonement. On to the castle, men!

[_Exeunt spearmen._

ANDROMACHE.

[_Turning as she goes off._] Be not wroth, my King. Your hall would be very desolate if the boy were slain. [_Exeunt_ ANDROMACHE _and_ MOLOSSUS.

HERMIONE.

There is another atonement should come first, if you must humble yourself.

PYRRHUS.

[_Stopping as he is going off._] What other?

HERMIONE.

Atone to Orestes, Agamemnon's son, that you stole away his bride!

PYRRHUS.

[_Firing up and laying his hand on his dagger._] Daughter of a dog! I stole no man's bride.

HERMIONE.

Was I not vowed and sworn to Orestes?

PYRRHUS.

Your father vowed you, not I. What is it to me if your father broke his oaths?

HERMIONE.

You helped him and bribed him to break them. The wrath of the Broken Oath is on both of you!

PYRRHUS.

You are mad, woman. Orestes had murdered his mother, and the Spirits without Name haunted him day and night----

HERMIONE.

My father knew that when he betrothed me. He could be purified.

PYRRHUS.

[_Scornfully._] Purified? For slaying his mother?

HERMIONE.

And you, you dared not enter the land while Agamemnon's son was there; you waited till----

PYRRHUS.

'Twas your father cozened Orestes away. How should I fear Agamemnon's son? Am I not the son of Achilles?

HERMIONE.

And was Achilles a better man than Agamemnon?

PYRRHUS.

All the world knows he was.

HERMIONE.

Then why did all the world choose Agamemnon to be their king?

PYRRHUS.

Bah! Very feeble men may be kings.

HERMIONE.

They may, in Phthia; and beggarly men, and savage, and witch-ridden, and makers of atonement, and stealers of wives!

PYRRHUS.

By Peleus! if I stole you, you were willing. 'Tis yourself you mark with a dog's name, Helen's daughter!

HERMIONE.

God be witness, willing I never was! Though I dreamed not then that I should come to a beggared land and the house of a master who hated me!

[_Flings herself down by the altar, hidden from the back of the stage by the trees._

PYRRHUS.

By Thetis, woman, you are bewitched!

HERMIONE.

[_With a cry._] Bewitched! Have I not said it?

_Enter from_ R. _back_, PRIEST _and_ ORESTES.

PRIEST.

[_To_ ORESTES.] Here is the King himself! [_To_ PYRRHUS.] Son of Achilles, I bring you this stranger, whom your handmaid, Andromache, commended to my care.

PYRRHUS.

Whence comes he, and what seeks he?

PRIEST.

From Acarnania, banished for the slaying of a man.

PYRRHUS.

He seeks not purification?

ORESTES.

The blood is faded long ago from my hand. I seek but to rest a while at your castle; I will give payment either in battle with your enemies, or by tidings and songs from beyond Parnassus and the Waters of Pelops.

[HERMIONE _looks up in amazement at the voice, utters a stifled cry, and peers round_.

PYRRHUS.

It is well, stranger. Tidings are good in peace; and if war comes, an exile for manslaying may well be worth the bread he eats.

ORESTES.

Others know if I am skilled in war. I know only that my life is little worth to me, and I care not much to save it.

PYRRHUS.

A good word, Sir Guest, and worthy of the roof of Achilles. We give you greeting, my Queen and I. [_Shakes his hand, and looks round for_ HERMIONE.] Daughter of Helen, have you not seen our guest?

HERMIONE.

[_In a startled tone._] Seen him? What do you mean, my lord?

ORESTES.

Nay, though methinks I have heard the Queen's praises till it is almost as though I knew her. For the women of the South speak daily of Helen's daughter, and the bards and kings' sons will never forget her.

HERMIONE.

[_Mastering her agitation with difficulty._] You know the land of Pelops, stranger? It is a fair land.

ORESTES.

Once it was far the fairest upon earth. But now its pride is brought down, and that which made it beautiful is departed. [_He looks steadily at her._

PYRRHUS.

Ay, they have had their troubles in the South. Howbeit, with us you may stay in peace as long as your pleasure is. Daughter of Helen, give your hand to our guest, and guide him to the castle.

HERMIONE.

[_Moving her hand forward, then drawing back._] Let another guide him. I have yet a prayer unspoken, and my offering is poured.

PYRRHUS.

[_Displeased._] Be not vexed, stranger. Who can tell the prayers of a childless woman, save that they change and are very many? Come with me, and to-morrow we will ask your name and race.

[_Exeunt_ PYRRHUS _and_ ORESTES, L. _The_ PRIEST _looks to the niches in the rock to see the offerings_. HERMIONE _falls on her knees at the altar, and prays silently_.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

THE SECOND ACT

SCENE: _The Hall of_ PYRRHUS' _Castle, a rude stone building, with spears, swords, and armour hanging on the walls. A doorway in the back wall leads to the courtyard. At the extreme right is a fire burning; near it are two high seats for the King and Queen._

_On a bench near the door are_ ANDROMACHE _and_ MOLOSSUS _seated; on the floor near them is a small pile of carpets and tapestries, and a bowl with some metal ornaments and small weapons in it_.

ANDROMACHE.

But when you saw him fall, and saw the pain in his face, did it give you no grief?

MOLOSSUS.

A little, it may be. Not more than when I struck my first deer. A child might cry over the ox they are flaying now in the yard.

ANDROMACHE.

And a grown man, too, if it availed anything.

MOLOSSUS.

Mother, you are but a woman, and I am getting to be a man; I must grow past all that and throw it behind me.

_Enter_ ORESTES _unnoticed: he stands in the doorway, leaning against a pillar_.

ANDROMACHE.

May your eyes never see half the pain mine have seen! I grew past feeling for it, too, long, long ago. I saw men writhe and bite the dust, without caring for them or counting them. They were so many that they were all confused, and the noise of their anguish was like the crying of cranes far off; there was no one voice in it, and no meaning. And then, as it went on growing, and the sons of Priam died about me and the folk starved, and my husband, Hector, was slain with torment, all the voices gathered again together and seemed as one voice, that cried to my heart so that it understood.

MOLOSSUS.

What did it say, mother?

ANDROMACHE.

It spoke in a language that you know not, my son.

MOLOSSUS.

Did it speak Phrygian?

ANDROMACHE.

It spoke the language of old, old men, and those whose gods have deserted them.

[ORESTES _moves forward as though to speak, but checks himself_.

MOLOSSUS.

But you could tell me what it said.

ANDROMACHE.

[_Looking at him, and not answering._] Why did you ever _wish_ to kill that herd-boy?

MOLOSSUS.

We had taken their cattle before. They always fight us.

ANDROMACHE.

Would it not be better that they should live at peace with you?

MOLOSSUS.

Why should I fear their blood-feud? I would sooner be slain than ask favours of them. My father would avenge me well!

ANDROMACHE.

And who will be the happier? Listen. Can you hear that little beating sound--down seaward, away from the sun?

MOLOSSUS.

It is the water lapping against the rocks.

ANDROMACHE.

There is a sound like that in the language I told you of. Old, old men, and those whose gods have deserted them, hear it in their hearts--the sound of all the blood that men have spilt and the tears they have shed, lapping against great rocks, in shadow, away from the sun.

MOLOSSUS.

But, mother, no warrior hears any sound like that.

ANDROMACHE.

Hector learnt to hear it before he died.

ORESTES.

[_Coming forward._] Before he died! Is that its meaning?

ANDROMACHE.

The stranger! [_Turning._

ORESTES.

Does it mean death, that sound?

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, methinks a man hears it when he has suffered enough, if he has the right ear to hear it.

ORESTES.

But it is then that death should come, when a man has suffered enough.

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, death should not come for suffering. Death should come when there is no hope left for any one thing in the world.

ORESTES.

[_Broodingly._] One thing!

MOLOSSUS.

But, Mother, they called Hector "Slayer of Men." I want first to slay many, many men, and many wild beasts, and burn a town, that people may fear me, and call me "Slayer of Men." And after that--after that, I will be merciful, and slay only those I hate.

ANDROMACHE.

Shall you hate men still?

MOLOSSUS.

If they wrong me! [ANDROMACHE _smiles_.] Shall I not hate them that wrong me? Do you not yourself?

ANDROMACHE.

Light of my age, if I hated, how should I live? There are three living souls that I love--you and your father and old Alcimus. And if I hated, whom should I hate more bitterly?

MOLOSSUS.

I know my father was your enemy once. But what did old Alcimus?

ANDROMACHE.

He was one of the three who slew my little child.

MOLOSSUS.

Astyanax? [_She nods._] I wish Astyanax were alive, mother. I would take him hunting.--He would have no share, would he, in my heritage?

ANDROMACHE.

I know nothing of that.

MOLOSSUS.

And did you never hate them--not at the time?

ANDROMACHE.

[_Looking at him, then passing her hand across her face._] Oh yes, I hated them!

MOLOSSUS.

But not me! I never did much harm to you.

ANDROMACHE.

Some day perhaps you will hurt me worse than any of them; but I shall not hate you.

MOLOSSUS.

[_After a pause, handling the objects in the bowl._] Well, I give you my oath this time, Mother; but I will not atone for my next slaying.

_Enter_ ALCIMEDON _and Attendants_.

ALCIMEDON.

The bull is finished, and a fine beast he was. [_Seeing the bowl._] What is this?

MOLOSSUS.

[_Shamefaced._] Nothing. Some pieces of mother's old stores.

ANDROMACHE.

The price for the blood of the herd-boy.

MOLOSSUS.

She made me vow it!

ALCIMEDON.

The atonement? That is right. I feared that Pyrrhus would be too proud to pay it.

MOLOSSUS.

You need not think that _I_ wanted him to pay it!

ALCIMEDON.

H'm! That was how _I_ talked once, before I knew what a blood-feud was. And now I would pay a dead man's weight in silver to be clear of one. Of course, with a stranger it is different, or a man who has no kin. [_Examining the stores._] No need to pay too much, though. It was a little boy, they tell me, and poorly clad.

MOLOSSUS.

[_Almost crying._] He was a big boy!--I hate the Napæans, and I will slay more of them!

ALCIMEDON.

There are the oxen as well. We have killed two; but sorry beasts, both, sorry beasts. Any two calves will more than make up for them.

MOLOSSUS.

But I hate them!

ALCIMEDON.

Hate them your fill; but make up the feud: we must not have Pyrrhus left childless.

MOLOSSUS.

What is it to me if Pyrrhus is childless? He can avenge his children.

ALCIMEDON.

Peace is better.

MOLOSSUS.

[_Contemptuously._] Peace!

ORESTES.

And what is the road to peace? The hate must eat itself out, till it stays for weariness.

ALCIMEDON.

A long road, stranger, too long and too rough to the feet. We want peace _now_!

ORESTES.

How can you get peace now, when the blood is still wet? He may give all his silver and his kine, but he will hate the men whose blood he has drunk; and though they swear by all the gods of their valley, they will hate him. And hate will out, in time, one way or another.

MOLOSSUS.

If ever they swerve a hair's breadth from their oaths----

ALCIMEDON.

And is there to be no peace at all?

ORESTES.

Peace for this one--[_touching_ MOLOSSUS]--when Pyrrhus is childless, or when----

ALCIMEDON.

Your words on your own head!

ORESTES.

----when the last of the Napæans has gone from the earth.

ANDROMACHE.

Nay; no peace then.

ORESTES.

Not for the dead?

ANDROMACHE.

Do not men see the dead roaming the world, and hear them call for blood?

ORESTES.

[_Excitedly._] How know _you_, woman, that the Dead call for blood? [_Gloomily again._] When the whole of a race is gone there may perhaps be peace.

ANDROMACHE.

But the whole of a race is never gone. Even from Troy there are men escaped who may make cities and seek for vengeance again. And if you blot out all the Napæans, there are those beyond the Napæans who will hate you for that very thing. Make peace, swiftly, before you die, my son, lest there be no peace for ever and ever.

_Enter_ HERMIONE, _with_ PRIEST _of Thetis and Attendants; she is richly dressed, and her eyes bright and anxious. She passes up to the two high seats, and takes one. She talks with her_ MAIDS, _and_ ALCIMEDON _goes over to her_.

ORESTES.

[_Detaching another pendant from his chain._] Woman, you can see men's hearts, and you talk not as these talk. Behold, there is no peace, for peace is nothing; there is either Love or Hate. [_Throwing pendant into the bowl._] If gold can buy love where hate is, put that to the blood-gift!

HERMIONE.

[_To_ ORESTES, _across the hall_.] Sir Stranger, this Priest tells me you are skilled as a bard.

ORESTES.

I have little skill in music, but I have journeyed much.

HERMIONE.

You can tell us strange tales of your voyages?

ORESTES.

Not of my own. But I was telling this boy a tale even now.

HERMIONE.

Nay, no boys' tales! Andromache, take your son and help with the ox flesh. [_To_ ORESTES.] And sit not so far off, among the slaves' seats. Tell us some _man's_ story.

ORESTES.

[_Approaching, but bringing_ MOLOSSUS _with him, while_ ANDROMACHE _goes out_.] Nay, I will keep the boy. It is a boy's tale, this, and of little meaning. But seeing I have begun---- [_To_ MOLOSSUS.] Have you heard of a man that once had a great feud--Orestes, Agamemnon's son?

MOLOSSUS.

Who slew his mother, and was driven by----

PRIEST.

Nay, name them not, child, name not those Holy Ones.

ALCIMEDON.

We love not his name in this house, stranger. Have you no other tale?

HERMIONE.

[_Controlling her excitement._] Nay, what hurt is his name? It is only some boy's tale.

ORESTES.

He took on him a great feud, greater than he knew. For his father called from the dead for vengeance on the woman who had murdered him. And the gods called, too, and put voices always about him calling for blood. And then they betrayed him!

MOLOSSUS.

Did his father betray him, too?

ORESTES.

Nay, it may be that the voice was not his father's, after all. But the gods----

PRIEST.

See that your tongue offend not, stranger!

ORESTES.

So be it. Well, in the end he recked not of the gods. He cared not how sore they hated him, and cared not if he lived or died.

MOLOSSUS.

And what did he do?

ORESTES.

This is the last story I heard of him, from a Chalcidian man who had been in Sicily.

HERMIONE.

Had he gone so far away?

ORESTES.

Beyond the end of Sicily to a kingdom of the Iberians. For he vowed that he would be like Paris, and win the most beautiful of all women for his wife; for, you must know, the gods had marred all the world for him, and made it all as ashes in his mouth, except beauty. For beauty is immortal, like themselves; and they cannot hurt it. So he sought and questioned where that woman might be; and men said she was queen of a land among the Iberians.

HERMIONE.

[_Half divining his meaning._] Had he seen her himself?

ORESTES.

Ay, long ago, they said.

HERMIONE.

And did he too deem her so fair?

ORESTES.

[_Looking full at her._] More beautiful than the flowers and the sunlight, so that in dreams her eyes haunted him.

MOLOSSUS.

Well, and what did he do?

ORESTES.

He took his ship, with a hundred men well armed, and hid them in a bay of Iberia. And he went up alone to the king's castle and saw the woman. For he was not sure if she was really so beautiful, and wanted to see her again very close. So he stayed in the king's house and made a plot to bear her away.

MOLOSSUS.

But what happened?

ORESTES.

I said it was but a boy's story. The Chalcidian knew not what had happened. Some said he won the queen to his ship, and fled away, wandering; and some said she told the king of his plotting, and they slew him there in the banquet hall. [_A slight pause._] So perchance even Orestes has found his peace; or, perchance he is still an outcast man, with a new feud following him.

MOLOSSUS.

But I wish I knew.

ORESTES.

Oh, 'tis a foolish story, without an ending.

HERMIONE.

[_Breaking out from her suspense; recklessly._] And a poor fool, your Orestes, whatever befell!

ORESTES.

How so? What if he won the woman?

HERMIONE.

He only fled on the seas with her, an exiled man, with no comfort. Could he not get him a kingdom?

ORESTES.

Belike he cared not for a little kingdom, being once robbed of his own great kingdom.

HERMIONE.

If a high seat is empty, shall not a great king's son be bold to sit on it? Were his men good soldiers of Mycenæ?

ORESTES.

Some, of Mycenæ, who had sacked Troy; some, pirates he had got in his voyaging; all good fighters!

HERMIONE.

Could he not slay that Iberian in his halls, and sit upon his seat?

ALCIMEDON.

By Thetis! that would have been a gallant deed.

PRIEST.

Unrighteous, very unrighteous; but doubtless the Iberian would have sinned against some god!

ORESTES.

The Iberians may be brave fighters; I know not. And he knew of none to help him.

ALCIMEDON.

A hundred good Phthians might have tried it.

HERMIONE.

The queen might have had her own friends who would fight for her.

ALCIMEDON.

A very foul deed, very foul; but a gallant one! And if she would leave her lord--the hound!--she might well help to slay him!

ORESTES.

He did not seek her for her righteousness; he sought her because her beauty spoke like a god to him!

[_A moment's pause. A shout of several voices heard in the Court._

ALCIMEDON.

What is that shouting?

[_Moves towards door, with_ MOLOSSUS; _the_ PRIEST _follows_.

HERMIONE.

I heard the King's voice in it. [_To her_ MAIDS.] Go, quick. See what has happened. [_They also go towards the door, leaving_ HERMIONE _and_ ORESTES _alone. An instant of silence; then she makes a quick movement to him._] Oh, speak!

ORESTES.

Either I will take you this night or I will be slain here in the hall!

HERMIONE.

Oh, take me, take me! I am half dead with wearying!

ORESTES.

You shall weary no more. Go forth alone at midnight to the altar of Thetis----

HERMIONE.

The altar of Thetis--by night! [_She shows fear._

ORESTES.

What do you fear? [HERMIONE _shudders, but does not answer_.] You dare not? Then, let it end the other way!

HERMIONE.

Dare you slay _him_?

ORESTES.

That is no great thing!

HERMIONE.

And the witch, and the witch-child?

[_With frightened ferocity._

ORESTES.

Slay _her_?

HERMIONE.

You will not? You will not? Oh, then, I dare not go to you!

[ORESTES _looks at her with surprise and some repulsion; the women and_ ALCIMUS _return, followed by_ PYRRHUS _and_ MOLOSSUS, _with some armour: after them_ ANDROMACHE _and some retainers_.

MAID.

A gift for Molossus! The King has given him a helmet and shield and spear!

MOLOSSUS.

And greaves, too, with bronze rims!

PYRRHUS.

Not yet, my boy! [_As_ MOLOSSUS _would fit a greave on_.] Bad luck before a banquet.

ALCIMUS.

Wait till the morning, my lad!

PYRRHUS.

[_With sudden displeasure, seeing the blood-gifts._] What mean all these carpets, and the bowl yonder?

ANDROMACHE.

They are gifts for the atonement.

PYRRHUS.

Atonement--to those dogs!

ANDROMACHE.

My King, it was the boon you granted me.

PYRRHUS.

[_Turning towards_ MOLOSSUS.] The boy never consented!

MOLOSSUS.

I--verily I liked it not--but I gave my word. Mother made me.

PYRRHUS.

You have just slain a man, and a woman can frighten you to promising your own dishonour?

MOLOSSUS.

She did not frighten me; she--I know not how she did it!

HERMIONE.

[_With a laugh._] Others can guess well enough how she did it!

FIRST MAID.

[_Muttering._] Sorceress!

SECOND MAID.

[_The same._] Phrygian witch!

ALCIMUS.

Hold your peace, little prating foxes!

FIRST MAID.

Oh, we all know she has witched old Alcimedon, long ago.

MOLOSSUS.

[_Half crying, as_ PYRRHUS _stands gloomily silent_.] I would not make atonement to them, Father, for all the world!

PYRRHUS.

She has your word now, little fool; and mine likewise.--By the gods, woman, you have got your will, and shamed me in the eyes of all men.

ANDROMACHE.

Master, your honour is more to me than mine own. This thing shames you not; even Alcimedon deemed it wise and honourable.

ALCIMUS.

The boy is very young; if he were a man, belike----

HERMIONE.

Is Alcimedon the judge of his lord's honour?

ANDROMACHE.

But how should I ever seek to hurt your honour? Why should I wish it?

PRIEST.

[_As_ PYRRHUS _goes silently back to the throne_.] A barbarian woman never forgets a hurt.

FIRST MAID.

'Tis the spite of a conquered Phrygian.

HERMIONE.

Let her be, King! She is thinking ever of her Hector, and Astyanax whom you slew!

ANDROMACHE.

My lord----

PYRRHUS.

Peace, peace! She knows well enough that Hector is dead--and beyond the seas too. Though I were shamed to the dirt in mine own hall, Hector would not hear of it!

HERMIONE.

Are you sure?

PRIEST.

Hector himself is buried beyond the seas, but his ghost may have followed your ships to Phthia. [_Coming up to the throne._] Yea, son of Achilles, though you like not my counsel, there be witches in Phrygia that can wake the dead, and tell them of shame come to their enemies, or of----

ALCIMUS.

There be none such in Phthia, old man! And if the dead _should_ wake, your prating would even set them to sleep again.