No More Learning

PYLADES: Him dost thou fly, who would have slain thy brother.
If we should perish, bitter self-reproach,
Forerunner of despair, will be thy portion;
Necessity commands. The rest thou knowest. [_Exit. _

IPHIGENIA: I must obey him, for I see my friends
Beset with peril. Yet my own sad fate
Doth with increasing anguish move my heart
To steal the image, sacred and rever'd,
Confided to my care, and him deceive
To whom I owe my life and destiny!
Let not abhorrence spring within my heart!


ACT V

THOAS _alone_.

THOAS: Fierce anger rages in my riven breast,
First against her whom I esteem'd so pure;
Then 'gainst myself, whose foolish lenity
Hath fashion'd her for treason. Vain my hope
To bind her to me. Now that I oppose
Her wish, she seeks to gain her ends by fraud.

[_Enter_ IPHIGENIA.

Wherefore delay the sacrifice; inform me!

IPHIGENIA: The goddess for reflection grants thee time.

THOAS: To thee this time seems also opportune.
IPHIGENIA: Are we not bound to render the distress'd
The gracious kindness from the gods received?
Thou know'st we are, and yet wilt thou compel me?

THOAS: Obey thine office, not the king.

IPHIGENIA: Oh, couldst thou see the struggle of my soul,
Courageously toward the first attack
Of an unhappy doom which threatens me;
Must I implore a miracle from heaven?

THOAS: Extravagant thy interest in the fate
Of these two strangers. Tell me who they are.

IPHIGENIA: They are--they seem, at least--I think them Greeks.

THOAS: Thy countrymen; no doubt they have renewed
The pleasing picture of return.

IPHIGENIA (_after a pause_): Attend,
O king, and honour truth in me. A plot
Deceitfully and secretly is laid
Touching the captives thou dost ask in vain.
They have escaped. The eldest is Orestes,
Whom madness seized, my brother; Pylades,
His early friend and confidant, the other.
From Delphi, Phoebus sent them to this shore,
To steal away the image of Diana,
And to him bear back the sister thither.
And for this, deliverance promised he
The Fury-haunted son.

THOAS: The traitors have contrived a cunning web,
And cast it round thee, who, secluded long,
Giv'st willing credence to thine own desire.

IPHIGENIA: No, no!