Thy countrymen; no doubt they have renew'd The pleasing picture of return.

IPHIGENIA, _after a pause_, Doth man Lay undisputed claim to n.o.ble deeds?

Doth he alone to his heroic breast Clasp the impossible? What call we great?

What deeds, though oft narrated, still uplift With shudd'ring horror the narrator's soul, But those which, with improbable success, The valiant have attempted? Shall the man Who all alone steals on his foes by night, And raging like an unexpected fire, Destroys the slumbering host, and press'd at length By rous'd opponents or his foemen's steeds, Retreats with booty--be alone extoll'd?

Or he who, scorning safety, boldly roams Through woods and dreary wilds, to scour the land Of thieves and robbers? Is nought left for us?

Must gentle woman quite forego her nature,-- Force against force employ,--like Amazons, Usurp the sword from man, and bloodily Revenge oppression? In my heart I feel The stirrings of a n.o.ble enterprize; But if I fail--severe reproach, alas!

And bitter misery will be my doom.

Thus on my knees I supplicate the G.o.ds.

Oh, are ye truthful, as men say ye are, Now prove it by your countenance and aid; Honour the truth in me! Attend, O king!

A secret plot is laid; 'tis vain to ask Touching the captives; they are gone, and seek Their comrades who await them on the sh.o.r.e.

The eldest,--he whom madness lately seiz'd, And who is now recover'd,--is Orestes, My brother, and the other Pylades, His early friend and faithful confidant.

From Delphi, Phbus sent them to this sh.o.r.e With a divine command to steal away The image of Diana, and to him Bear back the sister, promising for this Redemption to the blood-stain'd matricide.

I have deliver'd now into thy hands The remnants of the house of Tantalus.

Destroy us--if thou canst.

THOAS.

And dost thou think The savage Scythian will attend the voice Of truth and of humanity, unheard By the Greek Atreus?

IPHIGENIA.

'Tis heard by all, Whate'er may be their clime, within whose breast Flows pure and free the gushing stream of life.-- What silent purpose broods within thy soul?

Is it destruction? Let me perish first!

For now, deliv'rance hopeless, I perceive The dreadful peril into which I have With rash precipitancy plung'd my friends.

Alas! I soon shall see them bound before me!

How to my brother shall I say farewell?

I, the unhappy author of his death.

Ne'er can I gaze again in his dear eyes!

THOAS.

The traitors have contriv'd a cunning web, And cast it round thee, who, secluded long, Giv'st willing credence to thine own desires.

IPHIGENIA.

No, no! I'd pledge my life these men are true.

And shouldst thou find them otherwise, O king, Then let them perish both, and cast me forth, That on some rock-girt island's dreary sh.o.r.e I may atone my folly. Are they true, And is this man indeed my dear Orestes, My brother, long implor'd,--release us both, And o'er us stretch the kind protecting arm, Which long hath shelter'd me. My n.o.ble sire Fell through his consort's guilt,--she by her son; On him alone the hope of Atreus' race Doth now repose. Oh, with pure heart and hands Let me depart to expiate our house.

Yes, thou wilt keep thy promise; thou didst swear, That were a safe return provided me, I should be free to go. The hour is come.

A king doth never grant like common men, Merely to gain a respite from pet.i.tion; Nor promise what he hopes will ne'er be claim'd.

Then first he feels his dignity complete When he can make the long-expecting happy.

THOAS.

As fire opposes water, and doth seek With hissing rage to overcome its foe, So doth my anger strive against thy words.

IPHIGENIA.

Let mercy, like the consecrated flame Of silent sacrifice, encircl'd round With songs of grat.i.tude, and joy, and praise, Above the tumult gently rise to heaven.

THOAS.

How often hath this voice a.s.suag'd my soul!

IPHIGENIA.

Extend thy hand to me in sign of peace.

THOAS.

Large thy demand within so short a time.

IPHIGENIA.

Beneficence doth no reflection need.

THOAS.

'Tis needed oft, for evil springs from good.

IPHIGENIA.

'Tis doubt which good doth oft to evil turn.

Consider not: act as thy feelings prompt thee.

SCENE IV.

ORESTES (_armed_). IPHIGENIA. THOAS.

ORESTES, _addressing his followers_.

Redouble your exertions! hold them back!

Few moments will suffice; retain your ground, And keep a pa.s.sage open to the ship For me and for my sister.

_To_ IPHIGENIA, _without perceiving_ THOAS.

Come with speed!

We are betray'd,--brief time remains for flight.

THOAS.

None in my presence with impunity His naked weapon wears.

IPHIGENIA.

Do not profane Diana's sanctuary with rage and blood.

Command your people to forbear awhile, And listen to the priestess, to the sister.

ORESTES.

Say, who is he that threatens us?

IPHIGENIA.

In him Revere the king, who was my second father.

Forgive me, brother, that my childlike heart Hath plac'd our fate thus wholly in his hands.

I have betray'd your meditated flight, And thus from treachery redeem'd my soul.

ORESTES.

Will he permit our peaceable return?

IPHIGENIA.

Thy gleaming sword forbids me to reply.

ORESTES, _sheathing his sword_.