Orestes.
Not of my own. But I was telling this boy a tale even now.
Hermione.
Nay, no boys' tales! Andromache, take your son and help with the ox flesh. [To Orestes.] And sit not so far off, among the slaves' seats. Tell us some man's story.
Orestes.
[Approaching, but bringing Molossus with him, while Andromache goes out.] Nay, I will keep the boy. It is a boy's tale, this, and of little meaning. But seeing I have begun—— [To Molossus.] Have you heard of a man that once had a great feud—Orestes, Agamemnon's son?
Molossus.
Who slew his mother, and was driven by——
Priest.