SCENE I.

HERMIONE , only .

OU am I? That have I done? What should I do it again?
What grabbed my transportation? What grief consumes me?
Wandering without purpose, I run into this palace.
Ah, do I know if I like or if I hate?
Cruel, what eye he fired me:
Without pity, without pain less attention!
Have I seen him soften, to disturb a moment?
I have been able to draw a groan?
Mute to my sighs, quiet my alarms
It just seemed that he had to share my tears?
And I pity him again! And to complete boredom,
My heart, my heart loose interest for him!
I tremble to think of one without the threat that!
And ready to revenge him because I already do!
No, the point revoke the judgment of my wrath!
That perish. As well-he no longer lives for us.
The treacherous triumph and laughed at my rage:
He thinks see tears dissipate the storm;
He believes that, still weak, and uncertain heart,
I parerai an arm strokes with the other hand.
It considers encor me by my past kindness.
But the perfidious has other thoughts:
Triumphant in the temple, he does not inquire
If you want also his life or death.
He lets me, ungrateful, this fatal embarrassment.
No, once again, let act Orestes.
He dies, puisqu'enfin he had expected,
And since he has finally forced me to want it.
A knowing? Hey what, so it was me who ordered?
His death will effect the love of Hermione?
This prince, that my heart was once faisoit,
With so much pleasure repeat the exploits;
A secret that even I étois for
Before they had reached the fatal nuptials;
I therefore crossed many seas, many states,
To come so far to prepare his death,
The murder, lose? Ah, before it expires ...