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