No More Learning

But tell me now, when Agamemnon fell,
Orestes--did he share his sire's fate?
Say, was he saved? And is he still alive?
And lives Electra, too?

ORESTES: They both survive.
Half of the horror only hast thou heard.
Electra, on the day when fell her sire,
Her brother from impending doom conceal'd;
Him Strophius, his father's relative,
Received with kindest care, and rear'd him up,
With his own son, named Pylades, who soon
Around the stranger twin'd love's fairest bonds.
The longing to revenge the monarch's death
Took them to Mycenae, and by her son
Was Clytemnestra slain.

IPHIGENIA: Immortal powers!
O tell me of the poor unfortunate!
Speak of Orestes!

ORESTES: Him the Furies chase.
They glare around him with their hollow eyes,
Like greedy eagles. In their murky dens
They stir themselves, and from the corners creep
Their comrades, dire remorse and pallid fear;
Before them fumes a mist of Acheron.
I am Orestes!
and this guilty head
Is stooping to the tomb and covets death;
It will be welcome now in any shape.

[ORESTES _retires_. IPHIGENIA _prays to the gods, and_
ORESTES _returns_.

ORESTES: Who art thou, that thy voice thus horribly
Can harrow up my bosom's inmost depths?

IPHIGENIA: Thine inmost heart reveals it. I am she--Iphigenia!

ORESTES: Hence, away, begone!
Leave me! Like Heracles, a death of shame,
Unworthy wretch, locked in myself, I'll die!

IPHIGENIA: Thou shalt not perish! Would that I might hear
One quiet word from thee! Dispel my doubts,
Make sure the bliss I have implored so long.
Orestes! O my brother!

ORESTES: There's pity in thy look! oh, gaze not so--
'Twas with such looks that Clytemnestra sought
An entrance to her son Orestes' heart,
And yet his uprais'd arm her bosom pierced.