University of Virginia Library

ODE.

Cho.
Great is Latona's Offspring! which of yore
In rich Ortygia's fruitfull Vale she bore!
Phœbus with curling Gold array'd,
Sweet Master of the Lyrick String,
And great Diana, Silver-shafted Maid,
The Mighty Seed of Heav'n's immortal King
From Delos, that o'erlooks the circling Floods,
From Delos, famous for the Birth of Gods,
To high Parnassus, on whose sacred Head
His holy Revels oft young Bacchus holds,
Her heav'nly Offspring did Latona bear,
Where underneath a Laurel's verd'rous shade,
A monstrous Serpent in unnumber'd Folds
Wound up his spotted Train, and from afar
Glitt'ring with brazen Scales, and glaring wide
With fiery Orbs suffus'd with Blood,
Before th'inspiring Cavern stood,
And to the Tripod all Access deny'd.
Him, the foul Spawn of Earth, Apollo slew,
While at Latona's Breast as yet he hung,
And in her Arms with sportive Vigour sprung
Exulting in his Might,
Impatient for the Fight,
Impatient his huge Foe the Python to subdue.
Then entring the Prophetick Cave,
Down on the Golden Tripod sate the God,
And from that Seat of Truth his Answers gave,
From that divine Abode
His sacred Oracles he sung,
While anxious Mortals listen'd to his Tongue.
There by Castalia's Silver Tides
The Delphick Seer resides,
All in the Center of the Globe enthron'd,
Thence equally to deal his heav'nly Truths around.
But when the Beldam Earth beheld
Her Daughter Themis from her Shrine expell'd,
Fantastick Spectres in her fruitful Womb
She bred, Companions of Night's thickest Gloom;
And to inquiring Mortals, as they lay
Stretch'd in her darksom Grotts, she bade them rise,
And in Prophetick Dreams display
Their present, past, and future Destinies.
While in Resentment of her injur'd Child,
Thus of a Prophet's Praise Apollo she beguil'd.
But to Olympus' airy Height
With Speed Apollo took his Flight,
And there besought th'Almighty Sire
To interpose his Pow'r divine,
To quell the vengefull Beldam's Ire,
And drive her Spectres from the Pythian Shrine.
The Father smil'd, to hear his Son
Sollicit such a gainful Boon,
And for his Pythian Dome demand
The Gold, as well as Worship of the Land.
The Father smil'd, and bow'd his Head;
Earth's visionary Phantoms fled;
And lying Dreams no more believ'd,
No more inquiring Man deceiv'd.
To Phœbus was restor'd his former Fame:
Again to Delphi crouding Nations came,
Consulting boldly that unerring Shrine,
Where Truth once more had plac'd her Throne divine.

Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Ye Servants of the Temple, ye who wait
At great Diana's Altars, tell me, Where?
Say, where is Thoas King of Scythia gone?
Call, open your strong Gates, and call him forth,
Forth from the Temple bid our Monarch come.

Cho.
What would'st thou?—but strict Silence was enjoin'd us.

Mes.
The two young Grecian Strangers are gone off;
By Iphigenia's Counsel and Assistance
They are departed hence, and in their Bark
Bear with them the fam'd Image of our Goddess.

Cho.
The Tale thou tellest merits not our Faith,
But he, for whom thou dost inquire, the King,
Is hastily departed from the Temple.

Mes.
Where? for 'tis fit he know what now is doing.

Cho.
We know not; hasten thou, and seek him out,
And if perchance thou find him, tell thy Tale.

Mes.
Are not all Women treacherous and false?
Ye are Accomplices in this Transaction.

Cho.
Thy Words proceed from a distemper'd Mind.
How can these Strangers Flight relate to us?

Mes.
Then wherefore fly ye not to the King's Palace?

Cho.
Not till we first have gain'd Intelligence,
If in the Temple yet our King remains.

Mes.
Ho! open there! To you within I call.
Inform the King, that at the Gate there stands
One, fraught with Tidings horrible and strange.

Enter Thoas.
Tho.
What's he that round the Temple of the Goddess
This Clamour raises, forcing the barr'd Gates,
And striking all within with Fear and Horrour?

Mes.
These Women, Thoas, have with Lyes deceiv'd me,
And sought to send me hence, reporting falsly
Thou from the Fane wert hastily departed.

Tho.
From such a Fraud to them what Gain accrues?

Mes.
That will I shew hereafter: Now attend
To what is now more urgent. The young Virgin,
Who at Diana's Altars here presides,
Young Iphigenia, with the Grecian Strangers,
Is flying from this Shore, and with her bears
The venerable Image of our Goddess.
Th'Ablutions, she pretended, were a Cheat.

Tho.
How say'st thou, what bad Dæmon hath possess'd her?

Mes.
Know then, fresh Matter for Astonishment,
She did it to preserve Orestes' Life.

Tho.
Whom? what Orestes? Clytæmnestra's Son?

Mes.
The Victim, whom she feign'd to purify.

Tho.
A Miracle! I cannot style it less!

Mes.
Fix not thy Thoughts on that; but lift to me,
And when thou shalt have heard, and weigh'd my Tale,
Advise how to pursue and take these Strangers.

Tho.
Say on; thou counsel'st well; no narrow Frith
Have they to pass, that soon they should expect
To fly beyond the Reach of my strong Spear.

Mes.
When to the Sea-beat Shore we now arriv'd,
Where undescry'd Orestes' Vessel lay,
The Daughter of Atrides, Iphigenia,
As she were then beginning to perform
Some mystick Sacrifice, or solemn Rite
Of Expiation, which with earnest Care
She seem'd to be preparing, with a Nod
Commanded us, who, as thou didst enjoin,
Attended her, and led the Pris'ners bound,
Back to retire; and taking in her Hand
Their Chains, march'd on, herself conducting them.
This seem'd indeed suspicious, but thy Slaves,
O Thoas, acquiesc'd in her Commands.
Some short Space after, that she might appear
Still in her Mysteries engag'd, she scream'd
Aloud, and chaunted forth some barb'rous Strain,
As the dread Act of holy Expiation
That Instant were perform'd—But when in vain
Long time we sate expecting, in our Minds
A sudden Fear arose, lest those Greek Strangers,
Bursting their Fetters, might attempt to slay
The Virgin Priestess, and escape by Flight.
Yet cautious of surveying what the Gods
Ordain to be conceal'd, we silent sate:
At length, by common Vote it was decreed
To go, altho' forbidden, to the Place:
There we no sooner came, but we descry'd
A Grecian Gally, with her Oars like Wings
Advanc'd, and flutt'ring for immediate Flight,
With fifty jovial Sailors by her Sides,
Rang'd on their Benches, and the two young Greeks
Unbound, and standing on the lofty Poop:
Some kept the Prow with Staves, while on the Bows
Some stow'd the Anchors, others to the Rocks,
That butted o'er the Main, with nimble Feet
On Ladders climbing, by the Hausers drew
The Vessel to the Shore, to take on board
The Virgin Priestess, to the Deck beneath,
Now o'er the Billows hasting to descend.
But we perceiving then their treacherous Schemes,
Regardless of all Danger, on her seiz'd,
And grasping fast the Hausers, boldly leapt
Upon the Stern, and tore the Rudder off;
And thus expostulating with them, said:
On what Pretence, O Strangers, sail ye hither
O'er the wide Ocean, from our Shrine to steal,
And bear away our Priestess and our Image?
What Right hast thou to force this Virgin hence,
Like a bought Slave? and whence? and who art thou?
To this he quick reply'd, “That thou mayst know,
“I am Orestes, Brother to this Virgin,
“The Son of Agamemnon, hither come
“Home to convey my Sister, lost so long.”
Yet fast we held the Virgin still, and fain
Wou'd have compell'd her to return to thee;
Whence many a Bruise and Buffet soon ensu'd;
For Weapons we had none, but carried on
The Fight with Nature's Arms, which in our Sides
And Breasts the two young Strangers darted fierce,
Till ev'ry Limb was batter'd and with Toil
Forespent: Then flying on a craggy Cliff
We mounted, bearing on our Heads and Eyes
The bloody Marks of Violence and Strife.
There more at Ease the Battle we renew'd
From the high Rocks, and batter'd them with Stones,
But thence the Archers standing on the Deck
Soon drove us, and compell'd us to retire.
Mean while (for then a mighty Wave roll'd in,
Wafting the Gally nearer to the Shore)
Orestes boldly plunging in the Sea
(The Crew all seeming fearfull and unwilling)
His Sister seiz'd, and placing on his Back,
Safe thro' the Waves transported her aboard.
Then too the Statue of the Jove-born Maid,
The sacred Image, that fell down from Heav'n,
In the Mid-Gally utter'd thus her Voice:
“Haste, haste, ye jovial Mariners of Greece,
“Now ply your Oars, and spread the Waves with Foam:
“Now have we gain'd those Points for which we sail'd
“The stormy Euxine and dire Bosphorus!”
Whereat the Crew, forth carolling at once
Their toil-begotten Note, each other chear'd,
And beat with lusty Oars the dashing Brine;
While yet within the Bay the Gally swam,
She ran a head amain, but passing out,
A mighty Swell she met, that heav'd her back;
And a brisk Gale arising suddenly
Still lock'd her in the Port, while all in vain
The struggling Oar essay'd to stem the Wave,
That drove them ever backward on the Shore.
Then stood the Daughter of Atrides forth,
And to Diana thus address'd her Pray'r:
“O Daughter of Latona, save me, save
“Thy Priestess, flying from this barb'rous Land
“To her own native Greece, and O forgive
“My pious Theft! Thou, Goddess, lov'st thy Brother,
“Allow me then to love my Brother too!”
To this the Virgin's Pray'r the Sailors all
Reply'd with Pæans loud, and to the Oar
Their broad bare Arms applying, toil'd and sung.
Yet nearer to the Rocks the Gally drew:
Which noting, some into the Billows plung'd,
While some more prudent got their Anchors out.
Mean time I hither was dispatch'd, O King,
To make Relation of these strange Events.
Then haste, provide us Manacles and Chains!
For if the Waves abate not of their Rage,
All Hopes of Safety to the Greeks are lost.
The Ruler of the Sea is Ilion's Friend,
The Foe profess'd to the whole Race of Pelops,
And will again deliver to our Hands,
As is most meet, the Son of Agamemnon,
With his false Sister; who no longer seems
To bear in Mind the Sacrifice in Aulis.

Cho.
Unhappy Iphigenia, thou, alas!
Thou and thy Brother, should our mighty Lord
Once more attach you, must together perish.

Tho.
Natives of Scythia, all, attend my Summons!
Why mount ye not your Steeds, and on the Shore
Fly to receive the Freight of this Greek Vessel
Now cast upon our Coast? Diana's self
Shall lend you Wings to chace these impious Wretches.
Haste others, and with speed launch your swift Barks,
That whether on the Land or Ocean seiz'd
We may or cast them headlong from the Rocks,
Or fix their Bodies on the painful Stake.
For you, th'Accomplices of these vile Schemes,
Ye wretched Women, when Occasion fits,
You shall receive your Punishment. At present
Affairs of greater haste demand our Care.

Minerva descends.
Min.
Hold, Thoas! whither hastest thou to lead
Thy furious Squadrons? List! Minerva speaks.
Stay thy Pursuit! nor rouze the Waves of War!
For by Apollo's Oracles enjoin'd
Orestes hither came, to shun at once
The persecuting Furies' vengeful Ire,
His Sister back to Argos to convey,
And to my City bear the sacred Image.
Thus much to thee, O Thoas; as for him,
Whom intercepted by the swelling Surge
Thou thoughtest to have slain, the young Orestes,
Him o'er the level and unruffled Deep
At my Request hath Neptune wafted far.
And now, Orestes, listen to my Voice!
(Tho' absent thou canst hear the Voice divine)
Proceed now with thy Sister and the Goddess:
But when to Heav'n-built Athens thou shalt come,
There on her utmost Confines is a Spot,
Adjoining to the high Carystian Shore,
Deem'd holy, and my People call it Alæ:
There shalt thou raise a Temple, and enshrine
The heav'nly Image, which shall bear the Name
Of Scythian Artemis, to future Times
A lasting Monument of all the Woes
Which in thy devious Travels thou didst bear,
When the fell Furies hunted thee thro' Greece.
There Mortals shall henceforth their Off'rings bring,
And celebrate in Hymns the Taurick Maid.
This Custom also shalt thou institute,
That when my People hold the solemn Feast
Memorial of thy having here escap'd
The deadly Altar, shall a Man be brought,
And to his Throat the sacrificing Knife
The Pontiff shall present, and draw his Blood
An Off'ring to the Goddess, that she lose
No Portion of her customary Honours.
There also, Iphigenia, still shalt thou
Continue on her Altars to attend,
The Guardian of the rich Brauronian Shrine.
And there, when thou art dead, shalt thou be laid,
And to thy Tomb, as Off'rings, shall be brought
Silk-broider'd Mantles of all curious Woofs,
Such as unhappy Matrons, in the Pangs
Of Travail dying, shall behind them leave.
Moreover, this Injunction do I lay
On thee, Orestes, from this barb'rous Land
That to their Homes thou bring these Grecian Women:
An equitable Law; for I preserv'd
Thy Life, and in thy Favour Sentence gave,
When at thy Trial on the Hill of Mars
The Votes were equal found; and 'tis my Will
That in whatever Cause the Votes henceforth
In Number shall be equal, on the Side
Of Mercy shall the Judgment be presum'd.
And, Son of Agamemnon, now sail on!
Sail with thy Sister from this barb'rous Shore!
And thou, O Thoas! mitigate thy Rage.

Tho.
O Pallas! mighty Goddess! heav'nly Queen!
Fond and unwise is he, who doth refuse
To hearken to the high Behests of Heav'n.
Nor 'gainst Orestes, tho' he bear from hence
The venerable Image of our Goddess,
Nor 'gainst his Sister, in my Breast henceforth
Shall harbour any Rage! For mortal Man
To struggle with the mighty Gods, is vain.
Then may they safely to thy Land transport
The sacred Image, and enshrine it there.
And farther in Obedience to thy Voice,
These Women will I send to Heav'n-lov'd Greece,
And lay aside the Spear and hostile Bark,
Prepar'd the flying Greeks to intercept,
Whatever thou commandest, I applaud.
It is most meet that Heav'n's high Will prevail.

Min.
Go, gentle Gales, and favourably waft,
Waft young Orestes to th'Athenian Shore!
Myself will also go with you along,
In Person to convoy my Sister's Image.
And, Mortals, ye whom Heav'n's protecting Hand
Hath wonderfully sav'd, depart in Joy!

[Minerva re-ascends.
Cho.
Virgin Pallas! Child of Jove!
By the Gods rever'd above!
And by Mortals fear'd below!
To thy sov'reign Will we bow!
Thy Behest, celestial Maid,
Shall with Rev'rence be obey'd!
Joys not ev'n in Hope attain'd
Hath thy heav'nly Voice ordain'd,
Virgin Pallas! Child of Jove,
Fear'd below, rever'd above!