University of Virginia Library

THE SHADES OF AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA.

Iphigeneia.
Father! I now may lean upon your breast,
And you with unreverted eyes will grasp
Iphigeneia's hand.
We are not shades
Surely! for yours throb yet.
And did my blood
Win Troy for Greece?
Ah! 'twas ill done, to shrink;
But the sword gleam'd so sharp; and the good priest
Trembled, and Pallas frown'd above, severe.

Agamemnon.
Daughter!

Iphigeneia
Beloved father! is the blade
Again to pierce my bosom? 'tis unfit
For sacrifice; no blood is in its veins,
No God requires it here; here are no wrongs
To vindicate, no realms to overthrow.
You standing as at Aulis in the fane,
With face averted, holding (as before)
My hand; but yours burns not, as then it burn'd;
This alone shews me we are with the Blest,
Nor subject to the sufferings we have borne.
I will win back past kindness.
Tell me then,
Tell how my mother fares who loved me so,
And griev'd, as 'twere for you, to see me part.
Frown not, but pardon me for tarrying
Amid too idle words, nor asking how
She prais'd us both (which most?) for what we did.

Agamemnon.
Ye Gods who govern here! do human pangs
Reach the pure soul thus far below? do tears
Spring in these meadows?

Iphigeneia.
No, sweet father, no . .
I could have answered that; why ask the Gods?

Agamemnon.
Iphigeneia! O my child! the Earth
Has gendered crimes unheard of heretofore,
And Nature may have changed in her last depths,
Together with the Gods and all their laws.

Iphigeneia.
Father! we must not let you here condemn;
Not, were the day less joyful: recollect
We have no wicked here; no king to judge.
Poseidon, we have heard, with bitter rage
Lashes his foaming steeds against the skies,
And, laughing with loud yell at winged fire,
Innoxious to his fields and palaces
Affrights the eagle from the sceptred hand;
While Pluto, gentlest brother of the three
And happiest in obedience, views sedate
His tranquil realm, nor envies theirs above.
No change have we, not even day for night
Nor spring for summer.
All things are serene,
Serene too be your spirit! None on earth
Ever was half so kindly in his house,
And so compliant, even to a child.
Never was snatch'd your robe away from me,
Though going to the council. The blind man
Knew his good king was leading him indoors,
Before he heard the voice that marshal'd Greece.
Therefore all prais'd you.
Proudest men themselves
In others praise humility, and most
Admire it in the sceptre and the sword.
What then can make you speak thus rapidly
And briefly? in your step thus hesitate?
Are you afraid to meet among the good
Incestuous Helen here?

Agamemnon.
Oh! Gods of Hell!

Iphigeneia.
She hath not past the river.
We may walk
With our hands link'd nor feel our house's shame.

Agamemnon.
Never mayst thou, Iphigeneia, feel it!
Aulis had no sharp sword, thou would'st exclaim,
Greece no avenger . . I, her chief so late,
Through Erebus, through Elysium, writhe beneath it.

Iphigeneia.
Come; I have better diadems than those
Of Argos and Mycenai . . come away,
And I will weave them for you on the bank.
You will not look so pale when you have walked
A little in the grove, and have told all
Those sweet fond words the widow sent her child.

Agamemnon.
Oh Earth! I suffered less upon thy shores! [Aside.

The bath that bubbled with my blood, the blows
That spilt it (O worse torture!) must she know!
Ah! the first woman coming from Mycenai
Will pine to pour this poison in her ear,
Taunting sad Charon for his slow advance.
Iphigeneia!

Iphigeneia.
Why thus turn away!
Calling me with such fondness! I am here,
Father! and where you are, will ever be.

Agamemnon.
Thou art my child . . yes, yes, thou art my child.
All was not once what all now is! come on,
Idol of love and truth! my child! my child! [Alone.

Fell woman! ever false! false was thy last
Denunciation, as thy bridal vow;
And yet even that found faith with me! The dirk
Which sever'd flesh from flesh, where this hand rests,
Severs not, as thou boastedst in thy scoffs,
Iphigeneia's love from Agamemnon:
The wife's a spark may light, a straw consume,
The daughter's not her heart's whole fount hath quench'd,
'Tis worthy of the Gods, and lives for ever.

Iphigeneia.
What spake my father to the Gods above?
Unworthy am I then to join in prayer?
If, on the last, or any day before,
Of my brief course on earth, I did amiss,
Say it at once, and let me be unblest;
But, O my faultless father! why should you?
And shun so my embraces?
Am I wild
And wandering in my fondness?
We are shades!
Groan not thus deeply; blight not thus the season
Of full-orb'd gladness! Shades we are indeed,
But mingled, let us feel it, with the blest.
I knew it, but forgot it suddenly,
Altho' I felt it all at your approach.
Look on me; smile with me at my illusion . .
You are so like what you have ever been
(Except in sorrow!) I might well forget
I could not win you as I used to do.
It was the first embrace since my descent
I ever aim'd at: those who love me live,
Save one, who loves me most, and now would chide me.

Agamemnon.
We want not, O Iphigeneia, we
Want not embrace, nor kiss that cools the heart
With purity, nor words that more and more
Teach what we know, from those we know, and sink
Often most deeply where they fall most light.
Time was when for the faintest breath of thine
Kingdom and life were little.

Iphigeneia.
Value them
As little now.

Agamemnon.
Were life and kingdom all!

Iphigeneia.
Ah! by our death many are sad who loved us.
The little fond Electra, and Orestes
So childish and so bold! O that mad boy!
They will be happy too.
Cheer! king of men!
Cheer! there are voices, songs . . Cheer! arms advance.

Agamemnon.
Come to me, soul of peace! These, these alone,
These are not false embraces.

Iphigeneia.
Both are happy!

Agamemnon.
Freshness breathes round me from some breeze above.
What are ye, winged ones! with golden urns?

The Hours
(Descending.)

Chorus of Argives.
Maiden! be thou the spirit that breathes
Triumph and joy into our song!
Wear and bestow these amaranth-wreathes,
Iphigeneia! they belong
To none but thee and her who reigns
(Less chaunted) on our bosky plains.

Semi-chorus.
Iphigeneia! 'tis to thee
Glory we owe and victory.
Clash, men of Argos, clash your arms,
To martial worth and virgin charms.

Other Semi-chorus.
Ye men of Argos! it was sweet
To roll the fruits of conquest at the feet
Whose whispering sound made bravest hearts beat fast.
This we have known at home;
But hither we are come
To crown the king who ruled us first and last.

Chorus.
Father of Argos! king of men!
We chaunt the hymn of praise to thee.
In serried ranks we stand again,
Our glory safe, our country free.
Clash, clash the arms we bravely bore
Against Scamander's God-defended shore.

Semi-chorus.
Blessed art thou who hast repell'd
Battle's wild fury, Ocean's whelming foam;
Blessed o'er all, to have beheld
Wife, children, house avenged, and peaceful home!

Other Semi-chorus.
We, too, thou seest, are now
Among the happy, though the aged brow
From sorrow for us we could not protect,
Nor, on the polisht granite of the well
Folding our arms, of spoils and perils tell,
Nor lift the vase on the lov'd head erect.

Semi-chorus.
What whirling wheels are those behind?
What plumes come flaring through the wind,
Nearer and nearer? From his car
He who defied the heaven-born Powers of war
Pelides springs! Dust, dust are we
To him, O king, who bends the knee,
Proud only to be first in reverent praise of thee.

Other Semi-chorus.
Clash, clash the arms! None other race
Shall see such heroes face to face.
We too have fought; and they have seen
Nor sea-sand grey nor meadow green
Where Dardans stood against their men . .
Clash! Io Pæan! clash again!
Repinings for lost days repress . .
The flames of Troy had cheer'd us less.

Chorus.