Orestes.
How have you learnt it?—Woman, they may well speak of your sorceries!
Andromache.
I have no sorceries. This is a simple thing. We slaves learn to read men's moods in their eyes and voices, because their moods bring life or death to us.
Orestes.
Then why do you not fear me the more? [Roughly.]
You have never seen my heart!
Andromache.
He who has seen beyond the glory of bloodshedding may soon see beyond the hardness of man's heart.
Orestes.
[Troubled—roughly.] I know my own heart!