PYLADES.

Delicious music! dearly welcome tones Of our own language in a foreign land!

With joy my captive eye once more beholds The azure mountains of my native coast.

Oh, let this joy that I too am a Greek Convince thee, priestess! How I need thine aid, A moment I forget, my spirit wrapt In contemplation of so fair a vision.

If fate's dread mandate doth not seal thy lips.

From which of our ill.u.s.trious races, say, Dost thou thy G.o.dlike origin derive?

IPHIGENIA.

A priestess, by the G.o.ddess' self ordain'd And consecrated too, doth speak with thee.

Let that suffice: but tell me, who art thou, And what unbless'd o'erruling destiny Hath hither led thee with thy friend?

PYLADES.

The woe, Whose hateful presence ever dogs our steps, I can with ease relate. Oh, would that thou Couldst with like ease, divine one, shed on us One ray of cheering hope! We are from Crete, Adrastus' sons, and I, the youngest born, Named Cephalus; my eldest brother, he, Laodamus. Between us two a youth Of savage temper grew, who oft disturb'd The joy and concord of our youthful sports.

Long as our father led his powers at Troy, Pa.s.sive our mother's mandate we obey'd; But when, enrich'd with booty, he return'd, And shortly after died, a contest fierce For the succession and their father's wealth, Parted the brothers. I the eldest joined; He slew the second; and the Furies hence For kindred murder dog his restless steps.

But to this savage sh.o.r.e the Delphian G.o.d Hath sent us, cheer'd by hope, commanding us Within his sister's temple to await The blessed hand of aid. We have been ta'en, Brought hither, and now stand for sacrifice.

My tale is told.

IPHIGENIA Tell me, is Troy o'erthrown?

a.s.sure me of its fall.

PYLADES.

It lies in ruins.

But oh, ensure deliverance to us!

Hasten, I pray, the promis'd aid of heav'n.

Pity my brother, say a kindly word; But I implore thee, spare him when thou speakest.

Too easily his inner mind is torn By joy, or grief, or cruel memory.

A feverish madness oft doth seize on him, Yielding his spirit, beautiful and free, A prey to furies.

IPHIGENIA.

Great as is thy woe, Forget it, I conjure thee, for a while, Till I am satisfied.

PYLADES.

The stately town, Which ten long years withstood the Grecian host, Now lies in ruins, ne'er to rise again; Yet many a hero's grave will oft recall Our sad remembrance to that barbarous sh.o.r.e; There lies Achilles and his n.o.ble friend.

IPHIGENIA.

And are ye, G.o.dlike forms, reduc'd to dust!

PYLADES.

Nor Palamede, nor Ajax, ere again The daylight of their native land behold.

IPHIGENIA.

He speaks not of my father, doth not name Him with the fallen. He may yet survive!

I may behold him! still hope on, my heart!

PYLADES.

Yet happy are the thousands who receiv'd Their bitter death-blow from a hostile hand!

For terror wild, and end most tragical, Some hostile, angry, deity prepar'd, Instead of triumph, for the home-returning.

Do human voices never reach this sh.o.r.e?

Far as their sound extends, they bear the fame Of deeds unparallel'd. And is the woe Which fills Mycene's halls with ceaseless sighs To thee a secret still?--And know'st thou not That Clytemnestra, with aegisthus' aid, Her royal consort artfully ensnar'd, And murder'd on the day of his return?-- The monarch's house thou honourest! I perceive Thy heaving bosom vainly doth contend With tidings fraught with such unlook'd-for woe Art thou the daughter of a friend? or born Within the circuit of Mycene's walls?

Do not conceal it, nor avenge on me That here the horrid crime I first announc'd.

IPHIGENIA.

Proceed, and tell me how the deed was done.

PYLADES.

The day of his return, as from the bath Arose the monarch, tranquil and refresh'd.

His robe demanding from his consort's hand, A tangl'd garment, complicate with folds.

She o'er his shoulders flung and n.o.ble head; And when, as from a net, he vainly strove To extricate himself, the traitor, base aegisthus, smote him, and envelop'd thus Great Agamemnon sought the shades below.

IPHIGENIA.

And what reward receiv'd the base accomplice?

PYLADES.

A queen and kingdom he possess'd already.

IPHIGENIA.

Base pa.s.sion prompted, then, the deed of shame?

PYLADES.

And feelings, cherish'd long, of deep revenge.

IPHIGENIA.

How had the monarch injured Clytemnestra?

PYLADES.

By such a dreadful deed, that if on earth Aught could exculpate murder, it were this.

To Aulis he allur'd her, when the fleet With unpropitious winds the G.o.ddess stay'd; And there, a victim at Diana's shrine, The monarch, for the welfare of the Greeks, Her eldest daughter doom'd. And this, 'tis said, Planted such deep abhorrence in her heart, That to aegisthus she resign'd herself, And round her husband flung the web of death.

IPHIGENIA. (_veiling herself_).

It is enough! Thou wilt again behold me.

PYLADES, _alone_.

The fortune of this royal house, it seems, Doth move her deeply. Whosoe'er she be, She must herself have known the monarch well;-- For our good fortune, from a n.o.ble house, She hath been sold to bondage. Peace, my heart!

And let us steer our course with prudent zeal Toward the star of hope which gleams upon us.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

IPHIGENIA. ORESTES.

IPHIGENIA.

Unhappy man, I only loose thy bonds In token of a still severer doom.

The freedom which the sanctuary imparts, Like the last life-gleam o'er the dying face, But heralds death. I cannot, dare not say Your doom is hopeless; for, with murd'rous hand, Could I inflict the fatal blow myself?