Part 3

[_Laughter, in which_ PYRRHUS _slightly joins_.

PYRRHUS.

'Tis well said, Alcimedon! These women and priests!

PRIEST.

Nay, but I _will_ speak!

[_Talks to_ PYRRHUS, _round whom a group gathers, leaving_ ANDROMACHE _alone, and_ ORESTES _near_ ALCIMEDON.

ORESTES.

[_Apart to_ ALCIMEDON.] Old man, you have seen Helen. Was she more beautiful than your Queen?

ALCIMUS.

[_Looking towards_ HERMIONE, _then brightening_.] Nay, this is a woman like another; Helen was goddesslike, deathless and ageless for ever!

ORESTES.

[_To himself._] For Helen I could have done it! Alcimedon, did yonder woman ever do Helen any great wrong, anything meet for vengeance?

ALCIMUS.

Andromache? Why, 'twas Helen did _her_ all the wrong!

ORESTES.

Even so; and therefore she must have hated her. Did she never seek, think you, to have Helen slain?

ALCIMUS.

I trow not! Why, she gave her home and shelter when the folk of Troy sought to stone her.

ORESTES.

[_Brooding._] If she had ever plotted against Helen, I could have done it.

PYRRHUS.

[_Shaking off the_ PRIEST.] Enough, enough!--Is your stranger in the hall, Andromache?

ANDROMACHE.

He is here, my lord; a man of good counsel, methinks, and like to be faithful to his guest-oath.

PYRRHUS.

He is happily come to a night of festival.--Stranger, you stand far from the fire.

[ORESTES _and_ HERMIONE _have been trying to read one another's faces. Here_ ORESTES _turns bitterly, looks to the suits of armour on the wall, and chooses a seat near one_.

ORESTES.

Nay, I have a good seat.

PYRRHUS.

We will call the bard and be merry.

ORESTES.

[_Gloomily._] I have heard your bard but now.

PRIEST.

The stranger makes minstrelsy himself, as many chieftains may.

ORESTES.

Ay, give me a goblet, and I will sing. I am but a rude singer, but my songs may perchance be new.

PYRRHUS.

Take him the wine. [_They bring wine and a lyre._

ORESTES.

There are two songs running in my ears this hour past; and I know not fully even yet which of the two is better.

PYRRHUS.

Let it be something joyful, meet for a feast-day.

ORESTES.

I fancied before that one of my songs was very joyful; but now methinks there is no joy at all in either.

PYRRHUS.

[_After looking at him questioningly for a moment._] Then give us a good straight battle-piece, with no cowards in it, and no slaying by stealth.

ORESTES.

[_Excitedly._] That it shall be! No cowards, no slaying by stealth, and a clean, hard fight! Ay, and it is the easier too!

PRIEST.

You will call first upon the god, stranger.

ORESTES.

Assuredly; and the god can choose the end of the lay. [_Chanting._

"Lord of Man's hope, whom no man worshippeth, Heart of his fears, and burthen of his breath, Queller of hate and love, hear, O Most Strong, Most Wrathful and Unrighteous, hear, O Death!"

MEN-AT-ARMS.

Good words! Good words!

PRIEST.

God avert the omen!

[_He goes and does purifications at the fire._

ALCIMEDON.

On his own head! By Thetis! this stranger has run over with evil words ever since he came.

PYRRHUS.

Choose another song, Sir Stranger! Men like not the name of Death.

ORESTES.

Not death! Shall I sing of women, then? They come nearest. [_Chants._

"O Light and Shadow of all things that be, O Beauty, wild with wreckage like the sea, Say who shall win thee, thou without a name? O Helen, Helen, who shall die for thee?"

ALCIMEDON.

[_Starting up._] Now, by Thetis, stranger, in shape God has made you kinglike, but within a very fool!

HERMIONE.

[_Piteously._] My mother Helen never _wished_ the men to die!

ORESTES.

My singing mislikes you, old man? Or is it women that like you not?

PYRRHUS.

Stranger, some gayer song would better suit a day of rejoicing. Are the songs of Acarnania all sad?

ORESTES.

Do the men of Phthia wince at the name of death?

ALCIMEDON.

We have our own bard, who can sing to our liking; and his lays will tell whether we fear death.

ORESTES.

Your own bard will sing your own valour, belike? That I can ill do; for I have heard but little of the deeds of Pyrrhus.

ALCIMEDON.

The name of Troy has been heard, perchance, even in Acarnania?

ORESTES.

But the praise of your ancestors I could make into something--something gayer, you said? Was Æacus the first of your house?

ALCIMEDON.

Æacus, son of Zeus.

ORESTES.

[_Twanging the lyre carelessly and improvising._

"Great were our sires, and feeble folk are we! A strong king and a wise was Æacus, And Zeus his father helped him in his need, And Pelops, Lord of Hellas, loved him well!"

ALCIMEDON.

[_Grumbling._] Æacus was no vassal of Pelops!

ORESTES.

"The son is weaker, weaker than the sire! And Peleus he begat, a goodly king; Albeit he stabbed his brother on the sand, And wandered from his house, and begged, and lied, And vowed a goddess held him to her breast."

[_Murmurs in the hall._ ORESTES _pauses and drinks_.

PYRRHUS.

[_Under his breath._] Does the man seek for strife?

ORESTES.

"The son is falser, falser than the sire!"----

HERMIONE.

Perchance his wine likes him not. [_Goes down to_ ORESTES, _pours him fresh wine, and whispers_.] Are you mad?

ORESTES.

[_In the same tone, looking in her face._] Knew you not that, long ago?

[_Continuing, while she goes back to the throne._

"Achilles, Peleus' son, was swift of foot, And slew by guile great Hector, and was slain. And, though he hid from war in woman's weeds, And though he kept his tent while others fought, Yet gat he from his loins one son true born, And craved not mercy, gave not gifts for blood!"

PYRRHUS.

What does the dog mean?

ORESTES.

"The son is viler, viler than the sire!"

PYRRHUS.

[_Starting up._] By all my fathers together, this is the end! Ho, Myrmidons!

[_He snatches up the spear and shield of_ MOLOSSUS. _The other men take arms and growl._ HERMIONE _starts up, clasping her head with both hands, and staring in terror before her_. ORESTES _stays quietly seated_.

ANDROMACHE.

[_Rushing before_ PYRRHUS.] Your oath, O King! Your pledged hand! He is our guest!

PYRRHUS.

[_Checking himself suddenly, then turning upon her._] Whose guest? You brought him here--you gave the barb to his mocking! [_To the men._] Back, men! [_To_ ANDROMACHE.] Who taught him to revile my house?

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, I have told him nothing.

MAID OF HERMIONE.

He has been talking hours and hours with the Lady Andromache.

ANDROMACHE.

I know him not. I think he is mad.

BOTH MAIDS OF HERMIONE.

Bewitched, perchance!

[_Murmurs of assent and dissent._

PYRRHUS.

Peace, hounds! [_To_ ORESTES.] Sir Guest, this woman has saved you, else, oath or no oath, had I slain you where you stand!

HERMIONE.

[_Starting from her stupefaction._] What is that in the bowl?

PYRRHUS.

What bowl?

HERMIONE.

The bowl of your blood-gifts. [_Pointing to it._

PYRRHUS.

_My_ blood-gifts! [_Goes to the bowl; then turns furiously on_ ANDROMACHE.] Woman, who gave you this gold?

ANDROMACHE.

No man gave me gold. The stranger cast a pendant of his chain to add to the blood-gifts, for pity, lest the boy should be slain.

PYRRHUS.

Pity of the boy!--'Tis a plot--a plot to shame me past all enduring!

FIRST MAID.

She witched the gold out of him!

PRIEST.

King, King, hear me! She has witched the Queen's womb long ago, and witched the whole harvest. She has this day witched your own boy to consent to your dishonour; she has witched this mad stranger to give her gold worth twenty oxen; yea, she has witched both him and you, so that he stands up and flouts you in your hall. You are stripped naked, O King, for men and dogs to walk upon, that Hector in his grave may be merry!--Judgment, O son of Achilles, judgment!

ANDROMACHE.

Yea, judgment, my King! I, too, crave judgment. Only let not these be my judges.

PRIEST.

Who is she to say how she shall be judged?

ANDROMACHE.

Judge me yourself, O Pyrrhus, son of Achilles! even now, in your anger; and I fear not. Oh, my King, you who know me, say if I have hated you!

PRIEST.

A witch has no right to speak. Let her be bound outside at the gate till she is judged.

ALCIMEDON.

Not speak? What law is this, Priest?

PRIEST.

Not a witch! She will bind the King's heart, so that he cannot judge her.

PYRRHUS.

[_After a moment's hesitation._] By Zeus in heaven, it is the truth! I cannot judge her while she stands looking at me. Begone, woman!--Nay, touch her not!--Let her go to her own house.

ANDROMACHE.

I go, my King. Yet if you slay me and to-morrow wake sorrowful, bethink you there is no cure for that sorrow! [_Exit_ ANDROMACHE.

MOLOSSUS.

Mother, I will come too!

ALCIMEDON.

[_Stopping_ MOLOSSUS _at the door_.] To sanctuary! Not to your own house! Take sanctuary, both, at the altar of Thetis, till his fury is over.

[_Exit_ MOLOSSUS.

ORESTES.

[_Who during the interruption has mounted on the bench, taken the suit of arms from the wall, and armed himself, here leaps down, picks up the lyre, and sings again--_

"The son is viler, viler than the sire!"

ALCIMEDON.

The man is armed!

ORESTES.

[_Continuing amid general confusion._

"Achilles' son slew women and slew babes, But quailed before the blood-wrath of a churl; And stole another's bride; and fled, fled, fled!"

[_Tumult in hall._

ALCIMEDON.

Down with him!

PYRRHUS.

Slay him not! Break his spear and thrust him out!

ORESTES.

Will nothing sting you? Lo, mine was the bride he stole, and from me he fled! For he dared not face the wrath of Orestes, nor the spear of Agamemnon's son.

PYRRHUS.

Orestes!

PRIEST.

Is it Orestes?

ALCIMEDON.

He must have men behind him! To the watch-tower quick! [_Two retainers run out_, R.

HERMIONE.

He lies, he lies! Do I not know Orestes?

PYRRHUS.

Is it not Orestes? Who is it?

HERMIONE.

This is some poor half-mad, wandering minstrel-man. I know him not. He is not Orestes!

A VOICE FROM THE WATCH-TOWER.

There are no men near the castle.

ALCIMEDON.

Well, strike him down!

HERMIONE.

What profit to break the guest-oath for such as he? He is not Orestes!

PYRRHUS.

Now the Furies that haunt Orestes dog you, woman, if you lie! [ORESTES _gives a cry_.

PRIEST.

If he be mad, it were a great sin to slay him. And the god has been strong in him to-day.

HERMIONE.

[_After gazing at_ ORESTES _steadily_.] May the Furies that haunt Orestes be ever with me if I lie. [_Recklessly._] Is that enough? If you would have another oath, behold, I will go this night to the altar of Thetis----

PYRRHUS.

Hush, Queen, lest the goddess hear!

HERMIONE.

[_Continuing._] And there by the altar I will swear oaths, and Thetis may work upon me what she will!

PYRRHUS.

Nay, daughter of Helen, no such wild words! I mistrust you not.--Guest, get you gone in peace.

ORESTES.

[_Subdued by mention of the Furies._] I go, not fearing you, but lest I see Them. I am no guest of yours. [_Throwing down armour._] Take back your shield and helmet. Aught else I have had from your hands, my gold will more than repay [_With horror._] Apollo, Averter of Evil! keep them back!--Oh, why did you not slay me while you might?

[_Exit_ ORESTES.

A RETAINER.

Shall we not stone him from the Court?

PRIEST.

He is possessed! Stricken of God! Touch him not if you fear the gods' anger.

HERMIONE.

[_Terrified, staring in front of her._] No, no, I see nothing!

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

THE THIRD ACT

SCENE: _As in Act I. Night._ ANDROMACHE _on the steps of the altar of Thetis, with_ MOLOSSUS _asleep. Enter from the back, one after another, three armed men, with bows and arrows as well as spears; they pass silently behind rocks or bushes and disappear. Enter_ ORESTES, _armed, by path at back: a_ MAN _comes from behind a rock to meet him_.

ORESTES.

Is the watch set?

MAN-AT-ARMS.

Everywhere.

ORESTES.

And the path to the ship safe?

MAN-AT-ARMS.

Yes. We have but to wait till they are drawn off from the castle.

ORESTES.

Which way will Pylades lure them?

MAN-AT-ARMS.

He will feign flight northwards, to leave our way clear to the ship.

ORESTES.

Good. One thing more. If I be stricken here, waste no men's lives for me. Make your way back to the ship.

MAN-AT-ARMS.

Prince, we have our orders for this night's work from Pylades. We leave you not.

ORESTES.

Nay, what worth is a dead body, or who can hurt it?

MAN-AT-ARMS.

Hush! What was that?

[_Steals back to his ambush._ ANDROMACHE _has made some movement_. ORESTES _peers towards Castle_, L., _in darkness; then, turning, sees that there is a woman at the altar_.

ORESTES.

Daughter of Helen, why at the altar? Whom do you fear so sore? [_No answer. He comes nearer and sees_ MOLOSSUS _lying_.] What does the boy here?

ANDROMACHE.

It is the stranger! Come you to seek _me_, or what more has chanced?

ORESTES.

Is it you? You?--Is the boy asleep?

ANDROMACHE.

We have waited here so long, and have heard no word, good or evil.

ORESTES.

But why hide you here?

ANDROMACHE.

We have taken sanctuary from the wrath of the King and Queen, my guest.

ORESTES.

Call you me still your guest?

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, you are still my guest till you leave the land; and the King's wrath will perchance be cooled to-morrow.

ORESTES.

Why did you not let them slay me in the hall? 'Twas your own folly. I sought no hurt to you. Speak, think you an altar will hold me back, or your blood stain deeper than my mother's blood?

ANDROMACHE.

Who are you that speak like this? And what will my death profit you?

ORESTES.

Spoke I not loud enough in my enemy's hall? I am Orestes.

ANDROMACHE.

[_Amazed._] Clytæmnestra's son! [_Coming towards him._] Oh, now I understand your face! Give me your hand. Whether that old stain be yet purged or no----

ORESTES.

'Tis hidden and buried, rather, with much new blood over it. [_Keeping back his hand._

ANDROMACHE.

It is such a one as you I have long prayed for, to be a friend to my child and me.

ORESTES.

Why should I be your friend? I want no friends.

ANDROMACHE.

Listen. You and I have had more grief than others. We have seen beyond the glory of battle, beyond the joy of the conqueror and the shame of the conquered--as Priam and Hector saw before they died.

ORESTES.

I know the battle, and I know the shame. I have seen nought else.

ANDROMACHE.

The King has had but little sorrow; he has conquered always, and taken glory in his manslaying.

ORESTES.

Belike he will soon taste the other side of glory.

ANDROMACHE.

It may be. But none here, save old Alcimus, know aught of suffering. I have long prayed that some man should come here who had suffered from the hurts he had done, and learnt to pity men and women. And if the King's feet are set fast and cannot be turned, at least there is my son.

ORESTES.

Woman, I am come to slay the King and your son!

ANDROMACHE.

[_Calmly._] Slay them? But why? Why?

ORESTES.

To take their kingdom, as others have taken mine!

ANDROMACHE.

But is all the grief wasted that the gods have sent you? Can you not forget past evils and live in peace?

ORESTES.

In storm I can forget them. Peace is all anguish to me.

ANDROMACHE.

And what will a kingdom profit you?

ORESTES.

I am a king's son; I must have my kingdom.

ANDROMACHE.

Oh, you kings and kings' sons, you dwell like wolves in your castles. I have heard many a ploughman at his ploughing sing with gladness, but seldom, seldom, a king's son.

ORESTES.

Wolves must live in the wolves' way; and they have their own gladness, too.

ANDROMACHE.

You may know them by the howling of their misery in the night! God grant my boy may never be a king!

ORESTES.

Shall I slay him, then, as they bid me? Or would you that I should take him away, where there are no kingdoms? My ship is in the bay, and lacks not for plunder.

ANDROMACHE.

Better that you should slay him now, where he lies.

ORESTES.

Is he asleep? [_He bends tenderly over_ MOLOSSUS; _then recovers himself, and speaks in a harsh troubled voice_.] Why is it that you fear me not?

ANDROMACHE.

Why should I fear you?

ORESTES.

Do you trust to these gods? For I reck little of them.

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, my gods are vanished and powerless long ago, and these are but my enemies' gods.

ORESTES.

Then what defence have you against me?

ANDROMACHE.

I need no defence. You and I are friends.

ORESTES.

How, friends! I am charged to slay you also.

ANDROMACHE.

You will not slay me.

ORESTES.

How can you know what I myself know not yet?

ANDROMACHE.

You have no peace to see your own heart; but I can see it.

ORESTES.

How have you learnt it?--Woman, they may well speak of your sorceries!

ANDROMACHE.

I have no sorceries. This is a simple thing. We slaves learn to read men's moods in their eyes and voices, because their moods bring life or death to us.

ORESTES.

Then why do you not fear me the more? [_Roughly._] You have never seen my heart!

ANDROMACHE.

He who has seen beyond the glory of bloodshedding may soon see beyond the hardness of man's heart.

ORESTES.

[_Troubled--roughly._] I know my own heart!

ANDROMACHE.

The gods' hearts may be hard, but man's is tender; only very hungry, and sore afraid, and wild as a hunted beast on the mountain.

ORESTES.

Know you your Queen's heart?

ANDROMACHE.

Not hard, but starving. And she thinks, perchance, that the grief of others will feed it.

ORESTES.

[_Absently--bending and touching the boy's hands._] He is very cold.

_Enter_ HERMIONE, _hooded and wrapped, hurriedly_.

HERMIONE.

[_To herself._] Is there no one?--Oh, I dare not!

[ORESTES _steps quickly out from behind the trees_. HERMIONE _starts in terror_.

ORESTES.

Welcome, daughter of Helen!

[HERMIONE _does not answer, but stands, breathing hardy with relief_.

ORESTES.

Throw back your hood.--Ye gods, she is passing beautiful!

HERMIONE.

Take me quick to the ship. Quick, quick!

ORESTES.

It is not yet time. My men must draw Pyrrhus away from the castle.

HERMIONE.

He has gone. Nay, take me quick--Orestes----

ORESTES.

Why do you tremble so? What is it?

HERMIONE.

That oath I swore----

ORESTES.

You have not heard Them?

HERMIONE.

I know not. There seemed shapes at the edge of the trees.

ORESTES.

Shapes! [_Looks at her close._] No; _you_ have not seen them.

HERMIONE.

[_With horror._] Is the sight of them written on men's faces?

ORESTES.

Speak not of them!--You have neither seen nor heard.

HERMIONE.

It is only now, and here, that I am afraid. Take me to the ship now; and when once it is over----

ORESTES.

When Pyrrhus is slain?

HERMIONE.

And the other--[_clinging to him_]--oh, then we shall be safe and at peace.

ORESTES.

The boy? Why do you fear him?

HERMIONE.

[_Absently._] The boy? He is the king's son.

ORESTES.

But why do you _fear_ him?

HERMIONE.

It is not the boy I fear.

ORESTES.

Who, then?

HERMIONE.

It is the woman.

ORESTES.

[_Repelled._] And what fear you from _her_? I care not to slay a woman and a child.

HERMIONE.

I can never breathe in peace while she is there!

ORESTES.

[_Sternly._] What has she done?

HERMIONE.

[_Speaking in vague, troubled tones._] When she is near me, even if I know it not, her breath runs in my blood and makes me tremble. [_She is trembling._

ORESTES.

Be still! Say what she has done. If she has done you a wrong I will slay her.

HERMIONE.

[_In the same way._] I might have borne her eyes perchance in my own country, with friends near me; but here, all alone----

ORESTES.

What has she done?

HERMIONE.

[_In the same way._] I meant no hurt to her for her sharing the king's bed. But when first I saw her and she looked straight into me, there was something that turned my heart sick and dimmed my eyes.

ORESTES.

How can I slay her for dreams like these? I know nought of your heart, but I can see your beauty. She has not hurt that.

HERMIONE.

Can you not see a dimness over my face, where it once was bright--and a radiance in hers?

ORESTES.

[_Reflecting._] There is a radiance, although she is so sad.

HERMIONE.

Where got she that radiance? It is not hers. It is the joy and sunlight she has sucked out of me!

ORESTES.

[_Looking at her coldly._] I can see no cloud in your face.

HERMIONE.

[_Passionately._] No, no, you cannot see. I am rotting, shrivelling, dying within; and only she can see how I die!

ORESTES.

All flesh must decay. Tell me one deed of hate she has done, and I will slay her.

HERMIONE.

She has made me childless, that her child may be king!

ORESTES.

[_To himself._] And Helen never faded at all.

HERMIONE.

Childless, barren--barren of womb and of heart!--I had courage and strength to bear good sons, till she sapped it from me to feed _her_ son. Nay, there is another thing----

ORESTES.

[_Coldly._] What?

HERMIONE.

No, no, you do not believe me! I cannot say it.

ORESTES.

You speak such wild things.

HERMIONE.

I know not why I am so wild now, and anger you.--When she is near, it makes me wild and cruel; but now, I know not why this should come over me.

ORESTES.

Great Zeus! if it should be true!--Andromache, Andromache, speak and answer her.

HERMIONE.

Is she here? [ANDROMACHE _comes out from the trees by the altar_.] Averter of Evil, what is that?

ANDROMACHE.

I am but your handmaid, I have done you no hurt.

HERMIONE.

Nay, now you can see it--the thing I dared not say!

ORESTES.

What is it?

HERMIONE.

She is no live woman! See! she is dead and sucks the blood of the living. Why is she not afraid, like a live woman?

ORESTES.

[_Troubled._] She is deathly white. Why she has no fear I know not.

ANDROMACHE.

What can I answer? The King might slay me, but not this man.

ORESTES.

It was the same but now, when I held death over her.

HERMIONE.

She has passed through death! She has no fear, no anger, as the living have. Why does she never ask for anything? [_Almost beside herself with terror._] Faugh! the smell of death clings about all her garments! Kill her, kill her! [ORESTES _looks at_ HERMIONE _with a shudder_. HERMIONE, _breaking down, continues_.] Oh, friend, friend, I was not like this in Sparta.

ANDROMACHE.

Queen, I know my heart is with the dead of Troy. Why should that anger you?

ORESTES.

[_Looking at_ HERMIONE.] In very truth there is a shadow come over you. You seem to be shrunken, and scarce so wondrous beautiful.

HERMIONE.

[_In a weary frightened voice._] Kill her, kill her!

ORESTES.

I know not----

HERMIONE.

You have eyes. Can you not see there is a fiend working in me?

ANDROMACHE.

There is no fiend. Queen, Queen, why are you so full of hate?

HERMIONE.

'Tis your spells have done it! Before I came here I never hated any one.

ORESTES.

[_To_ ANDROMACHE.] Know you not any cause why she should hate you?

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, stranger, why _do_ men hate?

HERMIONE.

She has made me feel that I am vile. Slay her, or I go back to the King.

ORESTES.

Pyrrhus most like is dead. If I do slay her will you come away with me?

HERMIONE.

Away? To the ship? Yes; till we come back and take the kingdom!

ORESTES.

I will not take your kingdom!

HERMIONE.

Is it the boy you fear to slay?

ORESTES.

My kingdom must be an ever-changing kingdom. I dreamed for an hour that I might stay and rest like other men.

HERMIONE.

And why not?

ORESTES.

There be Those watching that will not let me rest.

HERMIONE.

Those watching? But you have not seen them? _I_ have not seen anything! [_To herself._

ORESTES.

Not now. Few men have ever seen them; but I hear their wings on the wind. And perchance if I stayed long in one place----

HERMIONE.

I hear nothing. [_Listening._] No, it cannot be wings on the wind! Oh!

ANDROMACHE.

Nay, there is no sound at all. Be not so terrified.

HERMIONE.

I cannot stay here alone! Oh, I care not for the kingdom.

ORESTES.

We are exiles for ever, both!

HERMIONE.

Nay, if you love me I can bear anything; if any one will love me.

ORESTES.

I know not if I love or hate you. It was for your passing beauty I came, because your eyes beaconed me through the dark of the sea.

HERMIONE.