University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

Iphigenia, Orestes, Pylades.
Iph.
Depart ye, and returning to the Temple,
Aid in their sacred Offices the Priests,
And those who must intend the Sacrifice.
Ex. Guards.
Behold the Letter to whose secret Folds
My Soul commits her various Purposes!
Yet hear me, Strangers, still one Doubt remains:
What Man beset with Peril is the same,
As when he finds himself secure and free
From Dread and Danger? Justly then I fear
Lest he, who now so forward seems to bear
My Letter to Mycenæ, when escap'd
Safe from this barb'rous Shore, will disregard,
And slight my Message.

Ores.
Then declare thy Pleasure;
Say, what Security will ease thy Doubts?

Iph.
His Oath; let him engage his solemn Oath
To bear this Letter to my Friends in Argos.

Ores.
And wilt thou also pawn thy Faith to him?

Iph.
Say to what Purpose? What must I perform?

Ores.
To suffer him depart in Safety hence.

Iph.
How should he otherwise convey my Letter?

Ores.
But will your King, think'st thou, consent to this?

Iph.
For this Consent I will engage; and more,
Aboard some Vessel I myself will place him.

Ores.
Swear then, and thou, my Pylades, begin
The sacred Rite, for thou art pure and holy.

Pyl.
I will convey thy Letter.

Iph.
You must swear
To bear this Letter to my Argive Friends.

Pyl.
I will convey this Letter to thy Friends.

Iph.
And I will save thy Life and send thee hence.

Ores.
What God call'st thou as Witness to thy Oath?

Iph.
Diana, at whose Altar here I serve.

Pyl.
Jove, I invoke, the awfull King of Heav'n.

Iph.
What if, regardless of thine Oath, thou swear
But to abuse me?

Pyl.
To my native Land
Then may I ne'er return! And what if thou
Neglect, as thou hast sworn, to save my Life?

Iph.
Oh! may I never live to visit Argos.

Pyl.
But hold, one Circumstance hath pass'd unnoted.

Iph.
Thou may'st propose it, if it be material.

Pyl.
This one Exemption I wou'd crave; suppose
The Vessel shou'd be lost, and in the Wave
Thy Letter in the gen'ral Wreck shou'd perish,
And I alone 'scape naked to the Shore;
Thou in that Case must quit me of my Oath.

Iph.
This will I do. To various Casualties
Since all Things here are subject, the Contents
To thee will I rehearse, that so thy Tongue
May to my Friends th'important Tale report,
And I, whate'er befalls, have less to fear.
For if thou can'st preserve my Letter, that
Will of itself my Purposes relate;
If not, yet thou escaping, may'st preserve
My Message.

Pyl.
Wisely, Virgin, hast thou judg'd
Betwixt the Gods and me. Now then declare,
When I at Argos shall arrive, to whom
Thy Letter, or thy Message must I bear?

Iph.
Say to Orestes, Son of Agamemnon,
“She, who in Aulis at the Altar bled,
“His Sister Iphigenia, sends him this,
“Yet living, tho' in fact still dead to him.”

Ores.
Where is she? Lives she from the Grave return'd?

Iph.
I whom thou seest, am that same Iphigenia—
But interrupt me not with thy Discourse.
“O dearest Brother, yet before I die,
“Yet bring me back to Argos from this Land,
“This barb'rous Land, and, oh! deliver me
“From this detested Ministry, with which
“Invested at Diana's Shrine I serve,
“And stain her Altars with the Blood of Strangers.

Ores.
What, Pylades, what must I say? Where are we?

Iph.
“This do, or on thy House, on thee, and thine,
“Orestes, will I call the Curse of Heav'n.”
Twice have I nam'd him, that thou may'st remember.

Pyl.
Oh! ye just Gods.

Iph.
Why call'st thou on the Gods?

Pyl.
Nothing: Proceed: my Mind was otherwhere.
Perchance my Questions in their Turn, O Virgin,
May with no less Amazement strike thy Soul.

Iph.
Tell him, “that great Diana sav'd my Life,
“Conveying in my stead a sacred Hind,
“Which then my Father slew, the while he thought
“That in his Daughter's Breast he plung'd his Sword.
“Diana sav'd me, and hath brought me hither.”
There is my Letter; these are the Contents.

Pyl.
To what an easy Task stand I engag'd!
And O! how fortunately hast thou sworn,
Imperial Virgin! No great Space of Time
The full Performance of my Oath demands:
Behold I bear thy Letter, and to thee
Deliver it, Orestes, from thy Sister!

Ores.
And I receive it—but away, vain Paper—
I shall not waste on Words my first fond Transports—
O dearest Sister!—Thou art much amaz'd—
Nay—I myself can scarce receive Conviction—
Tho' I enfold thee thus—I can't contain
My Raptures, when I hear such Wonders told!

Enter Chorus.
Cho.
Thou art to blame, young Stranger, to pollute
The Priestess of the Goddess; seizing thus
With Hands profane her consecrated Robe.

Ores.
O Sister, of the self same Father sprung,
Daughter of Agamemnon, turn not from me:
Oh! turn not from thy Brother, thy Orestes,
Whom, against all thy Hopes, thou now hast found.

Iph.
Have I now found my Brother? say'st thou so?
Oh no—my Brother still resides in Argos.

Ores.
Thy Brother is not there, unhappy Maid!

Iph.
Art thou the Son of Tyndarus's Daughter?

Ores.
Yea, and the Grandson of the Son of Pelops.

Iph.
Ha! say'st thou; hast thou Evidence of this?

Ores.
I have; examine, prove me, question me
About my Father's Family.

Iph.
Speak on—
'Tis thine to bring the Proofs, and mine to hear.

Ores.
Then, Iphigenia, first reflect on this:
Thou know'st the fatal Contest that arose
'Tixt Atreus and Thyestes?

Iph.
I have heard;
About the Golden Ram, I think, they quarrell'd.

Ores.
In rich Embroid'ry didst thou not describe
This Story?

Iph.
Now thou com'st near my Soul.

Ores.
And how the flying Sun withdrew his Beams?

Iph.
That Figure in my Work I well remember.

Ores.
Did not in Aulis Clytæmnestra bathe
And deck thee for thy Spousals?

Iph.
Oh! 'tis true;
And those accurs'd Espousals were my Ruin.

Ores.
Why to thy Mother didst thou send thy Hair?

Iph.
That she might strew it on my empty Tomb,
In Memory of me.

Ores.
One Token more,
Of what myself have seen, will I produce.
In thy Apartment stands the antient Spear
Of Pelops, which he brandish'd in his Hand
Then, when he slew Oenomäus, and gain'd
Th'Elean Virgin, fair Hippodamia.

Iph.
O dearest Brother!—for thou art my Brother—
And I possess thee once again, Orestes!
Thee in a distant Region born,
Thee from thy native Country come,
From Argos hither come, dear, dear Orestes!

Ores.
And I again possess thee, Iphigenia!
Thee from the Grave return'd, for dead thou wert!
And see the precious Tears of Joy,
The Tears of Tenderness and Love,
Swell in thine Eyes, my Sister, swell in mine!

Iph.
An Infant in the Nurse's Arms,
An Infant sucking at the Breast
I left him, when I left my Father's House!
O! above all Expression fortunate!
My Soul, what shall I say?
Beyond all Wonders, all Imagination
Have these Things come to pass!

Ores.
Henceforward may we live both bless'd together!

Iph.
O Virgins! strange, almost incredible
Is the Delight, I have this Day received—
I fear I shall again as strangely lose him,
And that he'll make him Wings, and fly to Heav'n!
O Argos! O Mycenæ! Native Land!
Now do I thank thee for my Birth and Nurture,
Since thou hast likewise nurs'd this Brother up,
To give new Lustre to our fading Race?

Ores.
In Birth we both indeed are great and happy,
But in our Lives, alas! unfortunate.

Iph.
This Truth did I discover, wretched Maid!
Then, when my ruthless Father at my Throat
His murd'ring Faulchion held.

Ores.
Methinks, even now
I see thee at the dreadfull Altar stand.

Iph.
Then, when defrauded of my promis'd Nuptials
With the great Son of Peleus, I was brought
To that deceitfull Camp, the Haunt of Wolves:
When round that dreadfull Altar from each Eye
Stream'd Tears of Pity, and loud Groans were heard.

Ores.
Who would not weep at such a Sacrifice?

Iph.
Ev'n I could not but pity the Distress,
And Resolution of my cruel Father,—
Alas! how woefull was my Lot, to have
So hard and so unnatural a Father.

Ores.
One Evil ever ushers in another:
If thou by Fate or Chance had'st slain thy Brother,
Oh! Wretch, how horrid were a Deed like that!

Iph.
Oh horrible! most horrible!
And yet—how near was it, Orestes?
How hardly hast thou 'scap'd an impious Death,
Slain by thy Sister's Hand?
And oh! I tremble still to think,
How all these Things will end;
How Fortune will assist me to contrive
Some Means of his Escape from Death,
From this inhuman Shore!
That to his native Argos safe
I may convey him back, before
His precious Blood distain the sacred Knife.
Consider then, unhappy dear Orestes,
If best thou may'st resolve to quit thy Bark,
And, on thy Speed relying, over Land,
Thro' dreary Forests, and untravel'd Wilds,
And barb'rous Nations to expose thy Life:
Or whether passing the Cyanean Straits,
Thro' the long watry Way thou wilt attempt
With flying Sails to compass thy Escape?
Me miserable! luckless that I am!—
O that some God, some Mortal, some bless'd Chance,
Some unexpected Incident would rise
To open us a Passage thro' these Ills,
That have besieg'd us round, and shew
The two, the only two of Atreus' Race,
Some final Period of their Misery.

Cho.
When to each other's Arms long absent Friends
Are by surprizing strange Events restor'd,
Our own Experience, and consenting Custom,
Bids us permit them to indulge the Joy
Of warm Embraces and transporting Tears.
But now, Orestes, it imports us most
To check this unavailing Tenderness,
And think how we may win the glorious Name
Of Liberty, and fly this barb'rous Land.
“For 'tis the Part of wise and prudent Men
“Not to neglect their Fortune, but to use
“The present Good, as an Occasion offer'd
“Of gaining farther Happiness.”

Ores.
'Tis true;
And Fortune will (I trust) in this Attempt
Co-operate with us: her heav'nly Pow'r
By far transcends the Agency of Man.

Iph.
Yet for the present nought shall interrupt
(Since nought forbids) our Converse, till I learn
What Fate attends Electra: O tell me all,
For all thy Words sound gratefull to my Ear.

Ores.
My Friend hath bless'd her Life with wedded Love.

Iph.
Say whence, and from whose Loins he drew his Being?

Ores.
Of Phocis is his Father, and nam'd Strophius.

Iph.
My Kinsman! Son of Agamemnon's Sister!

Ores.
Thy Kinsman, and my faithfull only Friend.

Iph.
He was not born, when I at Aulis bled.

Ores.
The Bed of Strophius for a time was barren.

Iph.
Welcome, my Kinsman! Husband of my Sister!

Ores.
And more than Kinsman, Saviour of thy Brother.

Iph.
How could'st thou perpetrate that horrid Deed,
The Murder of thy Mother?

Ores.
Name it not!
I did it to revenge my Father's Death.

Iph.
What Cause incited her to slay her Husband?

Ores.
With what concerns thy Mother meddle not;
It is not good for thee to know.

Iph.
I'm silent.
The State of Argos now looks up to thee.

Ores.
No; Menelas is King, and we are Exiles.

Iph.
What? did our Uncle then Advantage take
Of our Distractions, to distress us more?

Ores.
No; the fell Furies drove me from my Country.

Iph.
This Madness seiz'd you now upon our Coast,
From whence some Shepherds brought me the Account
Of your Demeanour.

Ores.
Nor are they the first,
Or only Witnesses of my Afflictions.

Iph.
I understand you—for your Mother's Death
The Deities of Vengeance thus torment you.

Ores.
Yea, and controuling with an Iron Curb
My stubborn Spirit, ride me thro' the World.

Iph.
What Object steer'd you to this barb'rous Coast?

Ores.
The Oracles of Phœbus sent me hither.

Iph.
And on what Errand? May that be reveal'd?

Ores.
I'll tell thee, and from thence begin a Tale
Of many Labours and much Misery.
After those Crimes, which I forbear to mention,
Were in my Mother punish'd by my Hands,
Still haunted by the Furies up and down,
I roam'd an Exile and a Vagabond;
'Till Pythian Phœbus order'd me at length
To Athens to repair, and there defend
My Cause against the nameless Goddesses
In that impartial Court, which righteous Jove
Erected for the Trial once of Mars,
There brought to answer for the Guilt of Murder.
When thither I arriv'd, at first I found
All Doors against me barr'd, as one accurs'd,
And odious to the Gods; and those at last
Who yielded out of Shame to take me in,
And grant me the Reception due to Strangers,
Tho' under the same Roof they still remain'd,
Yet plac'd me at a Table by myself,
And by the studied Silence they observ'd,
Impos'd the like on me, that so I might
Hold no Communion with them, and apart
Take both my Food and Bev'rage; to this end
Was set by ev'ry Man, to each a Bowl,
Of the same Measure all, and fill'd alike.
Mean time, esteeming it not meet to blame
Or murmur at my Hosts, I griev'd in Silence,
And feigning to observe not what was done,
Groan'd inwardly that I had slain my Mother.
Yet have th'Athenians (for so Fame reports)
From this sad Circumstance of my Distress
Occasion taken to appoint a Feast,
To Pallas sacred, where the Law ordains,
In off'ring the Libations, to employ
A Bowl in Measure like to those assign'd
To ev'ry Guest by our Athenian Host.
But when, repairing to the Hill of Mars,
Before that dread Tribunal I appear'd
To plead my Cause, against me, on a Stone
As my Accuser sat, Tisiphone,
The eldest of the Furies; against whom
I on another as accus'd was plac'd:
Then came the Process on and Charge of Murder.
But Phœbus in the Court on my Behalf
Appearing, witness'd for me; and the Balls
On either Side by Pallas being told,
And found in Number equal, I was then
Presum'd by Rule of Justice innocent,
And from the Crime of Parricide discharg'd.
Such of the Furies then, as acquiesc'd
In this Decision of the Court, and heard
The Process, as Appellants strait resolv'd
To hold me by this solemn Sentence clear'd.
But others, by the righteous Rule of Law
Refusing to abide, continu'd still
Their persecuting Vengeance, over Greece
With restless Error driving me about;
Till coming to Apollo's Delphick Grove,
Before the Shrine I threw me on the Ground,
And from all Food abstaining, to him sware,
That I would there break short my Thread of Life,
If he, the Author of my Misery,
If Phœbus still refus'd to hear and save me.
Then from the golden Tripod spake the God,
And bade me hither come, and bearing hence
That sacred Image, which fell down from Heav'n,
In Athens to enshrine it.—Therefore, thou,
Co-operate, and aid me to attain
The only Means of Health, that Heav'n allows.
Of great Diana's Image once possess'd,
Soon shall I rest from these distracting Horrors,
And in a well-man'd Pinnace will transport
Thee, Iphigenia, to thy lov'd Mycenæ.
Then, dearest Sister, I conjure thee, save
Thy Father's House, O save thy wretched Brother!
For should we fail to gain that heav'nly Image,
Lost is thy Brother, lost the House of Atreus.

Cho.
Some fearfull Vengeance of the Gods pursues
The Race of Tantalus, and works them Woe.

Iph.
E're thy Arrival here, I oft have sigh'd
To visit Argos, and my dear Orestes,
And now my Wishes are the same with thine,
To free thee from thy Sorrows, and to heal
The sad Distractions of my Father's House,
No more resenting that he sought to slay me.
Thee from the Altar I perchance may save,
And save my Family: But to elude
The Goddess and the King, is what I fear.
When Thoas shall perceive the Marble Shrine
Robb'd of its Image, shall I not be slain?
For what can I alledge in my Excuse?
Could'st thou indeed by one advent'rous Act
Together with the Statue place me too
Aboard thy Vessel, it were worth the Hazard.
But this, without the other, will undo me.
And what of that?—Thy Object will be gain'd,
And thou return with Triumph to Mycenæ.
No Peril therefore, no, not Death itself,
Will I decline, thy Safety to procure.
Men are by all regretted when they die,
But a weak Woman is a trifling Loss.

Ores.
Let me not be my Mother's Murderer,
And thine too, Iphigenia; on my Head
Her Blood is full sufficient: no; with thee
I am resolv'd to share one common Fate,
Be it of Life or Death; and will attempt,
Unless I perish here, to waft thee home,
Or here will I remain and die with thee.
Now hearken to my Words: Can'st thou believe,
That if this Enterprize were opposite
To great Diana's Will, the Pythian God
To Athens would have order'd me to bear
Her sacred Image, and to see thy Face?
From all these Points conjoin'd I gather Hope,
That we shall happ'ly compass our Return.

Iph.
Be our first Care to 'scape impending Death,
Next, to obtain Possession of the Goddess,
Then think of our Return: Our Will is good.

Ores.
Can we not kill the King?

Iph.
'Tis hazardous
For Strangers to attempt to kill a King
In his own Kingdom.

Ores.
Yet must it be risqu'd,
If our own Safety hangs on the Success.

Iph.
To this I cannot yield, yet I applaud
Thy Fervency and Courage.

Ores.
Then suppose
Thou should'st conceal me in the Temple here?

Iph.
That thro' the Shades of Night we may escape.

Ores.
The thievish Night is friendly to Deceit;
The Day belongs to Truth and Honesty.

Iph.
Within the Temple watch a waking Guard
Of Priests, whose Vigilance we cannot cheat.

Ores.
Our Death, alas! is sure. O who can save us?

Iph.
A Scheme that seems to promise fairer Hopes
Now labours in my Breast.

Ores.
Impart it to us.

Iph.
I mean to make Advantage of thy Madness.

Ores.
A female Brain still teems with Stratagems.

Iph.
I will alledge, that, having slain thy Mother,
Thou art from Argos fled.

Ores.
Of my Mishap,
So it may profit aught, avail thee freely.

Iph.
That such a Victim will offend the Goddess.

Ores.
What Reason wilt thou render? I begin
To spy thy Purpose.

Iph.
That thou art unclean;
But shalt, when pure, be yielded up to Death.

Ores.
How will this aid us to obtain the Image?

Iph.
I will insist that in the Ocean Stream
Thou must be purified.

Ores.
Where stands the Goddess,
Whom here we sail'd to seek? within the Temple?

Iph.
That too, polluted by thy Touch impure,
Demands Ablution in the cleansing Flood.

Ores.
Where wilt thou do this? at the Southern Shore?

Iph.
Where thy moor'd Vessel at her Anchors rides.

Ores.
Whom wilt thou trust to bear the sacred Image?

Iph.
Myself: beside none may presume to touch it.

Ores.
To Pylades what Task must be allotted?

Iph.
He also must be said to be defil'd
With the same Guilt.

Ores.
But wilt thou act unseen,
Or to thy Monarch's Eye expose thy Deeds?

Iph.
Doubt not but I shall win him to our Purpose;
For done it cannot be without his Knowledge.

Ores.
The Bark and all the jovial Crew are ready.

Iph.
To have all that in Order be thy Care.

Ores.
Remains then one thing only: That these Women
Consent to keep our Secret: therefore beg,
Beseech them, and employ thy utmost Art,
And ev'ry moving Topick of Persuasion:
To move and touch the Heart thy Sex is strong:
For all the rest I doubt not of Success.

Iph.
My dearest Friends, I now look up to you! to the Cho.

In your Arbitrement my Fortune lies;
Henceforth, as ye determine, shall I be,
Be happy, or be nothing; be depriv'd
For ever of my Country, my dear Brother,
And this my dearest Kinsman. First for that.
But other Arguments I have to move you.
We Women still are friendly to each other,
True to the common Int'rests of our Sex.
Then be not only secret, but assisting,
And aid us in our Flight. Fidelity
And Secrecy are Virtues of great Worth.
Behold! in one and the same Fate involv'd
Three Friends, together destin'd to return
To their dear Country, or together die;
If I escape, that ye may likewise share
In the same Fortune, here do I engage
To waft you safe to Greece: Oh! then be secret;
Be faithfull: I conjure you by this Hand,
The Bond of Fellowship; by these fair Cheeks,
Which I salute in Friendship; by these Knees,
Which suppliant I embrace; by all the dear,
Dear Pledges left behind you at your Homes,
Your Parents and your Children: If there be
Among ye, who have Children, I appeal
To them, to all, to ev'ry one. Oh! speak:
What say ye? which of ye consents? which not?
Oh! tell me that; for if you disapprove,
I and my wretched Brother are undone.

Cho.
Fear not, dear Princess! have no other Care
But for thy Preservation. We will keep
Thy Purpose secret; so protect us, Jove!

Iph.
I thank ye, Friends: For this may Bliss attend ye!
Thou, Pylades, and thou, Orestes, now
Retire within the Temple; for the King
Will speedily come hither to inquire,
If yet the Victims at the Altar bleed.
O mighty Goddess! who in Aulis' Sands
Did'st save me from my Father's slaught'rous Hands,
To these and me once more thy Aid afford,
Nor falsify thy Brother's sacred Word:
Well-pleas'd with us to Athens O remove!
Nor with Reluctance quit this Scythian Grove:
To Athens thou art call'd, the rich, the great,
And can'st thou with Barbarians fix thy Seat?

Ex. Iphi. Orest. Pylad. with Guards.

STROPHE I.

Cho.
Sad Bird, who the Rocks still among
To the murm'ring Surges below
Repeatest thy dolorous Song,
In Numbers explaining thy Woe,
In Accents, which sadly declare
That Ceyx those Dirges inspires,
Lost Ceyx, the Cause of thy Care,
And Object of all thy Desires!
In Elegies, mournfull as thine,
Halcyone, we too complain;
In Banishment destin'd to pine,
And sigh for our Country in vain.
O Greece how I languish to see
Thy populous Cities once more!
How I languish, Lucina, for thee!
The Goddess, whom Matrons adore.
By Cynthius, where stands her rich Shrine,
By the Palm's high-embowering Shade,
By the Laurel, and Olive divine,
Where Latona reclin'd her sick Head;
By the Lake, on whose echoing Tides
The sweet Cygnet expiring complains,
Our Goddess Lucina resides,
Far, far from these barbarous Plains.

ANTISTROPHE I.

Alas! what a Torrent of Tears
Continually stream'd from these Eyes,
When fill'd with a thousand sad Fears,
To Pyrates we first fell a Prize?
When War and Oppression's strong Hand
Had laid our proud Cities all waste,
And we, a disconsolate Band,
Aboard their black Vessels were plac'd;
Thence savagely barter'd for Gold,
We came to this barb'rous Land;
And there to Captivity sold,
Around the dire Altar we stand,
Ordain'd on the Priestess to wait,
And assist at these horrible Rites!
For such an unfortunate State
Have we chang'd all our former Delights.
The Wretches long practis'd to mourn,
Perceive not the Weight of their Grief;
A Change in their Fortune must turn
To a better, and bring them Relief.
But they are completely unbless'd,
Who, bred and accustōm'd to Bliss,
Like us, on a sudden oppress'd,
Are plung'd in a hopeless Abyss.

STROPHE II.

Thee, Iphigenia, thro' yon watry Way
A well mann'd Bark to Argos shall convey:
While the toiling Crew to chear,
Pan his whistling Pipe shall bring,
And Apollo, heav'nly Seer,
Tuning to the Lyrick String
His Voice divine, shall speed the lab'ring Oar,
With joyous Pæans to th'Athenian Shore.
Iphigenia, thou shalt go,
Leaving wretched me behind,
And to favour thee shall blow
Ev'ry fair and gentle Wind:
Fair blow the Wind, and swell the puffing Sail,
'Till the tough Cordage stretch before the Gale.

ANTISTROPHE II.

Oh! might I travel thro' yon lucid Road,
Where rolls the Chariot of the fiery God!
Might I thro' th'impassive Air
My unwearied Course pursue!
Till, distinguish'd from afar,
My dear Country rose to view!
Then quick descending from my airy Height,
My Pinions would I close, and stay my Flight.
Then lead on the dancing Choir,
As upon my bridal Morn,
When I strove with rich Attire
Each fair Feature to adorn,
And shading with my Hair my blushing Face,
By half concealing heighten'd ev'ry Grace.