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And those I wish to address, be safe, and live,

No base reward for a light letter, life
Receiving; and let him, since thus the state

Requires, without thee to the goddess bleed.
ORESTES

Virgin unknown, well hast thou said in all
Save this, that to the goddess he should bleed

A victim; that were heavy grief indeed.
I steer'd the vessel to these ills; he sail'd

Attendant on my toils: to gain thy grace
By his destruction, and withdraw myself

From sufferings, were unjust: thus let it be:
Give him the letter; to fulfil thy wish,

To Argos he will bear it: me let him
Who claims that office, slay: base is his soul,

Who in calamities involves his friends,
And saves himself; this is a friend, whose life,

Dear to me as my own, I would preserve.
IPHIGENIA

Excellent spirit! from some noble root
It shows thee sprung, and to thy friends a friend

Sincere; of those that share my blood if one
Remains, such may he be! for I am not

Without a brother, strangers, from my sight
Though distant now. Since then thy wish is such,

Him will I send to Argos; he shall bear
My letter; thou shalt die; for this desire

Hath strong possession of thy noble soul.
ORESTES

Who then shall do the dreadful deed, and slay me?
IPHIGENIA

I: to atone the goddess is my charge.
ORESTES

A charge unenvied, virgin, and unbless'd.
IPHIGENIA

Necessity constrains: I must obey.
ORESTES

Wilt thou, a woman, plunge the sword in men?
IPHIGENIA

No: but thy locks to sprinkle round is mine.
ORESTES

Whose then, if I may ask, the bloody deed?
IPHIGENIA

To some within the temple this belongs.
ORESTES

What tomb is destined to receive my corse?
IPHIGENIA

The hallow'd fire within, and a dark cave.
ORESTES

O, that a sister's hand might wrap these limbs!
IPHIGENIA

Vain wish, unhappy youth, whoe'er thou art,
Hast thou conceived; for from this barbarous land

Far is her dwelling. Yet, of what my power
Permits (since thou from Argos draw'st thy birth),

No grace will I omit: for in the tomb
I will place much of ornament, and pour

The dulcet labour of the yellow bee,
From mountain flowers extracted, on thy pyre.

But I will go, and from the temple bring
The letter; yet 'gainst me no hostile thought

Conceive. You, that attend here, guard them well,
But without chains. To one, whom most I love

Of all my friends, to Argos I shall send
Tidings perchance unlook'd for; and this letter,

Declaring those whom he thought dead alive,
Shall bear him an assured and solid joy.

(She enters the temple.)
CHORUS (chanting)

Thee, o'er whose limbs the bloody drops shall soon
Be from the lavers sprinkled, I lament.

ORESTES
This asks no pity, strangers: but farewell.

CHORUS (chanting)
Thee for thy happy fate we reverence, youth

Who to thy country shall again return.
PYLADES

To friends unwish'd, who leave their friends to die.
CHORUS (chanting)

Painful dismission! Which shall I esteem
Most lost, alas, alas! which most undone?

For doubts my wavering judgment yet divide,
If chief for thee my sighs should swell, or thee.

ORESTES
By the gods, Pylades, is thy mind touch'd

In manner like as mine?
PYLADES

I cannot tell;
Nor to thy question have I to reply.

ORESTES
Who is this virgin? With what zeal for Greece

Made she inquiries of us what the toils
At Troy, if yet the Grecians were return'd,

And Calchas, from the flight of birds who form'd
Presages of the future. And she named

Achilles: with what tenderness bewail'd
The unhappy Agamemnon! Of his wife

She ask'd me,-of his children: thence her race
This unknown virgin draws, an Argive; else

Ne'er would she send this letter, nor have wish'd
To know these things, as if she bore a share

(If Argos flourish) in its prosperous state.
PYLADES

Such were my thoughts (but thou hast given them words,
Preventing me) of every circumstance,

Save one: the fate of kings all know, whose state
Holds aught of rank. But pass to other thoughts.

ORESTES
What? Share them; so thou best mayst be inform'd.

PYLADES
That thou shouldst die, and I behold this light,

Were base: with thee I sail'd, with thee to die
Becomes me; else shall I obtain the name

Of a vile coward through the Argive state,
And the deep vales of Phocis. Most will think

(For most think ill) that by betraying the
I saved myself, home to return alone;

Or haply that I slew thee, and thy death
Contrived, that in the ruin of thy house

Thy empire I might grasp, to me devolved
As wedded to thy sister, now sole heir.

These things I fear, and hold them infamous.
Behooves me then with thee to die, with the

To bleed a victim, on the pyre with thine
To give my body to the flames; for this

Becomes me as thy friend. who dreads reproach.
ORESTES

Speak more auspicious words: 'tis mine to bear
Ills that are mine; and single when the wo,

I would not bear it double. What thou say'st
Is vile and infamous, would light on me,

Should I cause thee to die, who in my toils
Hast borne a share: to me, who from the gods

Suffer afflictions which I suffer, death
Is not unwelcome: thou art happy, thine

An unpolluted and a prosperous house;
Mine impious and unbless'd: if thou art saved,

And from my sister (whom I gave to thee,
Betroth'd thy bride) art bless'd with sons, my name

May yet remain, nor all my father's house
In total ruin sink. Go then, and live:

Dwell in the mansion of thy ancestors:
And when thou comest to Greece, to Argos famed

For warrior-steeds, by this right hand I charge the
Raise a sepulchral mound, and on it place

A monument to me; and to my tomb
Her tears, her tresses let my sister give;

And say, that by an Argive woman's hand
I perish'd, to the altar's bloody rites

A hallow'd victim. Never let thy soul
Betray my sister, for thou seest her state,

Of friends how destitute, her father's house
How desolate. Farewell. Of all my friends,

Thee have I found most friendly, from my youth
Train'd up with me, in all my sylvan sports

Thou dear associate, and through many toils
Thou faithfulpartner of my miseries.

Me Phoebus, though a prophet, hath deceived,
And, meditating guile, hath driven me far

From Greece, of former oracles ashamed;
To him resign'd, obedient to his words,

I slew my mother, and my meed is death.
PYLADES

Yes, I will raise thy tomb: thy sister's bed
I never will betray, unhappy youth,

For I will hold thee dearer when thou art dead,
Than while thou livest; nor hath yet the voice

Of Phoebus quite destroy'd thee, though thou stand
To sometimes mighty but sometimes mighty woes

Yield mighty changes, so when Fortune wills.
ORESTES

Forbear: the words of Phoebus naught avail me;
For, passing from the shrine, the virgin comes.

(IPHIGENIA enters from the temple. She is carrying a letter.)
IPHIGENIA (to the guards)

Go you away, and in the shrine prepare
What those, who o'er the rites preside, require.

(The guards go into the temple.)
Here, strangers, is the letter folded close:

What I would further, hear. The mind of man
In dangers, and again, from fear relieved,

Of safety when assured, is not the same:
I therefore fear lest he, who should convey

To Argos this epistle, when return'd
Safe to his native country, will neglect

My letter, as a thing of little worth.
ORESTES

What wouldst thou then? What is thy anxious thought?
IPHIGENIA

This: let him give an oath that he will bear
To Argos this epistle to those friends,

To whom it is my ardent wish to send it.
ORESTES

And wilt thou in return give him thy oath?
IPHIGENIA

That I will do, or will not do, say what.
ORESTES

To send him from this barbarous shore alive.
IPHIGENIA

That's just: how should he bear my letter else?
ORESTES



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