Of flight we brook no thought,nor such hath been Our wont;nor may the god's commanding voice Be disobey'd;but from the temple now Retiring,in some cave,which the black sea Beats with its billows,we may lie conceal'd At distance from our bark,lest some,whose eyes May note it,bear the tidings to the king,And we be seized by force.But when the eye Of night comes darkling on,then must we dare,And take the polish'd image from the shrine,Attempting all things:and the vacant space Between the triglyphs (mark it well)enough Is open to admit us;by that way Attempt we to descend:in toils the brave Are daring;of no worth the abject soul.
ORESTES
This length of sea we plough'd not,from this coast,Nothing effected,to return:but well Hast thou advised;the god must be obey'd.
Retire we then where we may lie conceal'd;
For never from the god will come the cause,That what his sacred voice commands should fall Effectless.We must dare.No toil to youth Excuse,which justifies inaction,brings.
(They go out.IPHIGENIA and the CHORUS enter from the temple.)
IPHIGENIA (singing)
You,who your savage dwellings hold Nigh this inhospitable main,'Gainst clashing rocks with fury roll'd,From all but hallow'd words abstain.
Virgin queen,Latona's grace,joying in the mountain chase,To thy court,thy rich domain,To thy beauteous-pillar'd fane Where our wondering eyes behold Battlements that blaze with gold,Thus my virgin steps I bend,Holy,the holy to attend;Servant,virgin queen,to thee;
Power,who bear'st life's golden key,Far from Greece for steeds renown'd,From her walls with towers crown'd,From the beauteous-planted meads Where his train Eurotas leads,Visiting the loved retreats,Once my father's royal seats.
CHORUS (singing)
I come.What cares disturb thy rest?
Why hast thou brought me to the shrine?
Doth some fresh grief afflict thy breast?
Why bring me to this seat divine?
Thou daughter of that chief,whose powers Plough'd with a thousand keels the strand And ranged in arms shook Troy's proud towers Beneath the Atreidae's great command!
IPHIGENIA (singing)
O ye attendant train,How is my heart oppress'd with wo!
What notes,save notes of grief,can flow,A harsh and unmelodious strain?
My soul domestic ills oppress with dread,And bid me mourn a brother dead.
What visions did my sleeping sense appall In the past dark and midnight hour!
'Tis ruin,ruin all.
My father's houses-it is no more:
No more is his illustrious line.
What dreadful deeds hath Argos known!
One only brother,Fate,was mine;
And dost thou rend him from me?Is he gone To Pluto's dreary realms below?
For him,as dead,with pious care This goblet I prepare;And on the bosom of the earth shall flow Streams from the heifer mountain-bred,The grape's rich juice,and,mix'd with these,The labour of the yellow bees,Libations soothing to the dead.
Give me the oblation:let me hold The foaming goblet's hallow'd gold.
O thou,the earth beneath,Who didst from Agamemnon spring;To thee,deprived of vital breath,I these libations bring.
Accept them:to thy honour'd tomb,Never,ah!never shall I come;Never these golden tresses bear,To place them there,there shed the tear;For from my country far,a hind There deem'd as slain,my wild abode I find.
CHORUS (singing)
To thee thy faithful train The Asiatic hymn will raise,A doleful,a barbaric strain,Responsive to thy lays,And steep in tears the mournful song,-Notes,which to the dead belong;
Dismal notes,attuned to woe By Pluto in the realms below:
No sprightly air shall we employ To cheer the soul,and wake the sense of joy.
IPHIGENIA (singing)
The Atreidae are no more;
Extinct their sceptre's golden light;
My father's house from its proud height Is fallen:its ruins I deplore.
Who of her kings at Argos holds his reign,Her kings once bless'd?But Sorrow's train Rolls on impetuous for the rapid steeds Which o'er the strand with Pelops fly.
From what atrocious deeds Starts the sun back,his sacred eye Of brightness,loathing,turn'd aside?
And fatal to their house arose,From the rich ram,Thessalia's golden pride,Slaughter on slaughter,woes on woes:
Thence,from the dead ages past,Vengeance came rushing on its prey,And swept the race of Tantalus away.
Fatal to thee its ruthless haste;
To me too fatal,from the hour My mother wedded,from the night She gave me to life's opening light,Nursed by affliction's cruel power.
Early to me,the Fates unkind,To know what sorrow is assign'd:
Me Leda's daughter,hapless dame,First blooming offspring of her bed (A father's conduct here I blame),A joyless victim bred;When o'er the strand of Aulis,in the pride Of beauty kindling flames of love,High on my splendid car I move,Betrothed to Thetis'son a bride:
Ah,hapless bride,to all the train Of Grecian fair preferr'd in vain!
But now,a stranger on this strand,'Gainst which the wild waves beat,I hold my dreary,joyless seat,Far distant from my native land,Nor nuptial bed is mine,nor child,nor friend.
At Argos now no more I raise The festal song in Juno's praise;Nor o'er the loom sweet-sounding bend,As the creative shuttle flies;Give forms of Titans fierce to rise;
And,dreadful with her purple spear,Image Athenian Pallas there:
But on this barbarous shore The unhappy stranger's fate I moan,The ruthless altar stain'd with gore,His deep and dying groan;And,for each tear that weeps his woes,From me a tear of pity flows.
Of these the sad remembrance now must sleep:
A brother dead,ah me!I weep:
At Argos him,by fate oppress'd,I left an infant at the breast,A beauteous bud,whose opening charms Then blossom'd in his mother's arms;Orestes,born to high command,The imperial sceptre of the Argive land.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Leaving the sea-wash'd shore a herdsman comes Speeding,with some fresh tidings to thee fraught.
(A HERDSMAN enters.)
HERDSMAN
Daughter of Agamemnon,and bright gem Of Clytemnestra,hear strange things from me.
IPHIGENIA
And what of terror doth thy tale import?
HERDSMAN
