Part 6 (1/2)

And while I here am priestess of Diana, None, be he who he may, dare touch your heads.

But the incensed king, should I refuse Compliance with the rites himself enjoin'd, Will choose another virgin from my train As my successor. Then, alas! with nought, Save ardent wishes, can I succour you, Much honour'd countryman! The humblest slave, Who had but near'd our sacred household hearth, Is dearly welcome in a foreign land; How with proportion'd joy and blessing, then, Shall I receive the man who doth recall The image of the heroes, whom I learn'd To honour from my parents, and who cheers My inmost heart with flatt'ring gleams of hope!

ORESTES.

Does prudent forethought prompt thee to conceal Thy name and race? or may I hope to know Who, like a heavenly vision, meets me thus?

IPHIGENIA.

Yes, thou shalt know me. Now conclude the tale Of which thy brother only told me half: Relate their end, who coming home from Troy, On their own threshold met a doom severe And most unlook'd for. I, though but a child When first conducted hither, well recall The timid glance of wonder which I cast On those heroic forms. When they went forth, it seem'd as though Olympus from her womb Had cast the heroes of a by-gone world, To frighten Ilion; and, above them all, Great Agamemnon tower'd pre-eminent!

Oh tell me! Fell the hero in his home, Though Clytemnestra's and aegisthus' wiles?

ORESTES.

He fell!

IPHIGENIA.

Unblest Mycene! Thus the sons Of Tantalus, with barbarous hands, have sown Curse upon curse; and, as the shaken weed Scatters around a thousand poison-seeds, So they a.s.sa.s.sins ceaseless generate, Their children's children ruthless to destroy.-- Now tell the remnant of thy brother's tale, Which horror darkly hid from me before.

How did the last descendant of the race,-- The gentle child, to whom the G.o.ds a.s.sign'd The office of avenger,--how did he Escape that day of blood? Did equal fate Around Orestes throw Avernus' net?

Say, was he saved? and is he still alive?

And lives Electra, too?

ORESTES.

They both survive.

IPHIGENIA.

Golden Apollo, lend thy choicest beams!

Lay them an offering at the throne of Jove!

For I am poor and dumb.

ORESTES.

If social bonds Or ties more close connect thee with this house, As this thy joy evinces, rein thy heart; For insupportable the sudden plunge From happiness to sorrow's gloomy depth.

As yet thou only know'st the hero's death.

IPHIGENIA.

And is not this intelligence enough?

ORESTES.

Half of the horror yet remains untold,

IPHIGENIA.

Electra and Orestes both survive, What have I then to fear?

ORESTES.

And fear'st thou nought For Clytemnestra?

IPHIGENIA.

Her, nor hope nor fear Have power to save.

ORESTES.

She to the land of hope Hath bid farewell.

IPHIGENIA.

Did her repentant hand Shed her own blood?

ORESTES.

Not so; yet her own blood Inflicted death.