Orestes.
[Relaxing suddenly.] Oh, let me be.
[He sits down on a rock, and buries his face in his hands.
Andromache.
[To Alcimedon.] The man is very weary and sore at heart, Alcimedon.
Priest.
It may be he is mad. It is well we hurt him not.
Alcimedon.
Banishment may make a man well-nigh mad. I remember the year of my own manslaying.