But why hide you here?
Andromache.
We have taken sanctuary from the wrath of the King and Queen, my guest.
Orestes.
Call you me still your guest?
Andromache.
Nay, you are still my guest till you leave the land; and the King's wrath will perchance be cooled to-morrow.
Orestes.
Why did you not let them slay me in the hall? 'Twas your own folly. I sought no hurt to you. Speak, think you an altar will hold me back, or your blood stain deeper than my mother's blood?