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ORESTES.
[_Troubled--roughly._] I know my own heart!
ANDROMACHE.
The G.o.ds' 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 G.o.ds, she is pa.s.sing beautiful!
HERMIONE.
Take me quick to the s.h.i.+p. 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 s.h.i.+p 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.
