Andromache by Gilbert Murray (inspirational books to read txt) 📖

own house. Come not up to trouble the King till that web is finished.

Andromache.

[Turning again and moving away.]  I go, O Queen.

Voice of Pyrrhus.

[Outside.]  Ho, wife of Hector, mother of Molossus! Stay, and look at him.

Molossus and Pyrrhus enter, with some spearmen; Pyrrhus has his arm on the neck of Molossus.

Molossus.

[Running forward.]  Mother, look! I have slain a man!

Pyrrhus.

He has slain his first man.

[Molossus holds up his hands, the palms of which are smeared with blood.

Molossus.

See, mother; they have smeared me with his blood!

Hermione.

[Holding aloof.]  Keep away from the altar, with foul hands!

Andromache.

[To Pyrrhus, with reproach, while she embraces Molossus.]  You said you would take him to no battles, only to hunting.

Pyrrhus.

[Cheerily.]  By Hermes, it was he who made the battle! I meant nothing but hunting.

Alcimedon.

Well done, boy! A true prince, a true prince!

Pyrrhus.

We had driven the deer down over the mountains and we came on a herd of the Napæans' cattle grazing, right up on the moors.

Andromache.

You promised me you would raid no cattle with him.

Pyrrhus.

By Hermes! They came to us! And the herd-boy never saw us; he was sitting on a stone in the sun, and thinking of nothing. And even then I would not raid the cattle. When suddenly up jumped the herd-boy and looked at us, with his mouth open. And before he knew who we were, I heard a twang!—and there he was with an arrow in his neck! [Laughs.

Molossus.

Right through his throat, mother! He was looking up. [Imitating the attitude.]  And I have got a pipe he was plaiting. It wasn't finished, but it blows. [He shows a pipe made of reeds.

Pyrrhus.

You can play better things than pipes, my boy. So we ran down and cut off the cattle; and I have given them to Molossus for his own herd.

Molossus.

And father put the blood on my hands himself.

Pyrrhus.

I will do more for you than that, my firstborn.

Hermione.

[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