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.

G.o.d 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!