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.