Andromache Part 12

ANDROMACHE.

Shall you hate men still?

MOLOSSUS.

If they wrong me! [ANDROMACHE _smiles_.] Shall I not hate them that wrong me? Do you not yourself?

ANDROMACHE.

 

Light of my age, if I hated, how should I live? There are three living souls that I love--you and your father and old Alcimus. And if I hated, whom should I hate more bitterly?

MOLOSSUS.

I know my father was your enemy once. But what did old Alcimus?

ANDROMACHE.

He was one of the three who slew my little child.

MOLOSSUS.

Astyanax? [_She nods._] I wish Astyanax were alive, mother. I would take him hunting.--He would have no share, would he, in my heritage?

ANDROMACHE.

I know nothing of that.

MOLOSSUS.

And did you never hate them--not at the time?

ANDROMACHE.

[_Looking at him, then pa.s.sing her hand across her face._] Oh yes, I hated them!

MOLOSSUS.

But not me! I never did much harm to you.

ANDROMACHE.

Some day perhaps you will hurt me worse than any of them; but I shall not hate you.

MOLOSSUS.

[_After a pause, handling the objects in the bowl._] Well, I give you my oath this time, Mother; but I will not atone for my next slaying.

_Enter_ ALCIMEDON _and Attendants_.

ALCIMEDON.

The bull is finished, and a fine beast he was. [_Seeing the bowl._] What is this?

MOLOSSUS.

[_Shamefaced._] Nothing. Some pieces of mother's old stores.

ANDROMACHE.

The price for the blood of the herd-boy.

MOLOSSUS.

She made me vow it!

ALCIMEDON.

The atonement? That is right. I feared that Pyrrhus would be too proud to pay it.

MOLOSSUS.

You need not think that _I_ wanted him to pay it!

ALCIMEDON.

H'm! That was how _I_ talked once, before I knew what a blood-feud was.

And now I would pay a dead man's weight in silver to be clear of one.

Of course, with a stranger it is different, or a man who has no kin.

[_Examining the stores._] No need to pay too much, though. It was a little boy, they tell me, and poorly clad.

MOLOSSUS.

[_Almost crying._] He was a big boy!--I hate the Napaeans, and I will slay more of them!

ALCIMEDON.

There are the oxen as well. We have killed two; but sorry beasts, both, sorry beasts. Any two calves will more than make up for them.

MOLOSSUS.

But I hate them!

ALCIMEDON.

Hate them your fill; but make up the feud: we must not have Pyrrhus left childless.

MOLOSSUS.