Orestes possesses in full that quality of lucidity lacking in Pyrrhus and only partially present in Hermione. He has no illusions about his situation. Like an objective outsider, he reports to Hermione his attempts to forget her, to find surcease in death, only to return to her as enamored as ever. He reads between the lines and rightly interprets Hermione's unconvincing attempts at kindness as an unwitting admission of her passion for Pyrrhus.
Orestes' lucidity is all the more remarkable, since it only emphasizes his bitter fate. It tells him that his love is all-consuming, that his life depends on Hermione's affection, and that this affection never was and never will be his. In other words, his lucidity tells Orestes that he is doomed.
Yet Racine's portrayal of this character — one of the most complex in his works — raises the question of whether Orestes' fate is not at least to some extent self-invited. When he enters, Hermione's mood toward him is relatively kind, but when he leaves, he has effectually antagonized her by a series of self-pitying, tactless, and provocative remarks to which no woman could be expected to respond favorably. In a sense, Orestes' conviction that only misfortune can befall him helps to make that misfortune inevitable.
Hermione, on the other hand, is far less consistent. She is piqued when Orestes reminds her that she has a successful rival, but tries to persuade herself that her desire for revenge is based on hatred and not on jealousy. She reproaches Orestes for his own jealousy and loudly proclaims her indifference to Pyrrhus, but when challenged to leave with Orestes, she lamely invokes filial duty as an excuse to stay.
