Chapter XII: Act IV: Scene I

IPHIGENIA

When the Powers on high decree For a feeble child of earth Dire perplexity and woe, And his spirit doom to pass With tumult wild from joy to grief, And back again from grief to joy, In fearful alternation; They in mercy then provide, In the precincts of his home, Or upon the distant shore, That to him may never fail Ready help in hours of need, A tranquil, faithful friend. Oh, bless, ye heavenly powers, our Pylades, And whatsoever he may undertake! He is in fight the vigorous arm of youth, And his the thoughtful eye of age in counsel; For tranquil is his soul; he guardeth there Of calm a sacred and exhaustless dower, And from its depths, in rich supply, outpours Comfort and counsel for the sore distressed. He tore me from my brother, upon whom, With fond amaze, I gaz'd and gaz'd again; I could not realize my happiness, Nor loose him from my arms, and heeded not The danger's near approach that threatens us. To execute their project of escape, They hasten to the sea, where in a bay Their comrades in the vessel lie conceal'd Waiting a signal. Me they have supplied With artful answers, should the monarch send To urge the sacrifice. Alas! I see I must consent to follow like a child, I have not learn'd deception, nor the art To gain with crafty wiles my purposes. Detested falsehood! it doth not relieve The breast like words of truth: it comforts not, But is a torment in the forger's heart, And, like an arrow which a god directs, Flies back and wounds the archer. Through my heart One fear doth chase another; perhaps with rage, Again on the unconsecrated shore, The Furies' grisly band my brother seize. Perchance they are surpris'd! Methinks, I hear The tread of armèd men. A messenger Is coming from the king, with hasty steps. How throbs my heart, how troubled is my soul, Now that I gaze upon the face of one, Whom with a word untrue I must encounter!

SCENE II

IPHIGENIA, ARKAS

ARKAS

Priestess, with speed conclude the sacrifice! Impatiently the king and people wait.

IPHIGENIA

I had perform'd my duty and thy will, Had not an unforeseen impediment The execution of my purpose thwarted.

ARKAS

What is it that obstructs the king's commands?

IPHIGENIA

Chance, which from mortals will not brook control.

ARKAS

Possess me with the reason, that with speed I may inform the king, who hath decreed The death of both.

IPHIGENIA

The gods have not decreed it. The elder of these men doth bear the guilt Of kindred murder; on his steps attend The dread Erinnys. In the inner fane They seized upon their prey, polluting thus The holy sanctuary. I hasten now, Together with my virgin-train, to bathe The goddess' image in the sea, and there With solemn rites its purity restore. Let none presume our silent march to follow!

ARKAS

This hindrance to the monarch I'll announce Commence not thou the rite till he permit.

IPHIGENIA

The priestess interferes alone in this.

ARKAS

An incident so strange the king should know.

IPHIGENIA

Here, nor his counsel nor command avails.

ARKAS

Oft are the great consulted out of form.

IPHIGENIA

Do not insist on what I must refuse.

ARKAS

A needful and a just demand refuse not.

IPHIGENIA

I yield, if thou delay not.

ARKAS

I with speed Will bear these tidings to the camp, and soon Acquaint thee, priestess, with the king's reply. There is a message I would gladly bear him; 'Twould quickly banish all perplexity Thou didst not heed thy faithful friend's advice.

IPHIGENIA

I willingly have done whate'er I could.

ARKAS

E'en now 'tis not too late to change thy purpose.

IPHIGENIA

To do so is, alas, beyond our power.

ARKAS

What thou wouldst shun, thou deem'st impossible.

IPHIGENIA

Thy wish doth make thee deem it possible.

ARKAS

Wilt thou so calmly venture everything?

IPHIGENIA

My fate I have committed to the gods.

ARKAS

The gods are wont to save by human means.

IPHIGENIA

By their appointment everything is done.

ARKAS

Believe me, all doth now depend on thee. The irritated temper of the king Alone condemns these men to bitter death. The soldiers from the cruel sacrifice And bloody service long have been disused; Nay, many, whom their adverse fortunes cast In foreign regions, there themselves have felt How godlike to the exil'd wanderer The friendly countenance of man appears. Do not deprive us of thy gentle aid! With ease thou canst thy sacred task fulfil; For nowhere doth benignity, which comes In human form from heaven, so quickly gain An empire o'er the heart, as where a race, Gloomy and savage, full of life and power, Without external guidance, and oppress'd With vague forebodings, bear life's heavy load.

IPHIGENIA

Shake not my spirit, which thou canst not bend According to thy will.

ARKAS

While there is time
Nor labor nor persuasion shall be spar'd.

IPHIGENIA

Thy labor but occasions pain to me; Both are in vain; therefore, I pray, depart.

ARKAS

I summon pain to aid me, 'tis a friend Who counsels wisely.

IPHIGENIA

Though it shakes my soul,
It doth not banish thence my strong repugnance.

ARKAS

Can then a gentle soul repugnance feel For benefits bestow'd by one so noble?

IPHIGENIA

Yes, when the donor, for those benefits, Instead of gratitude, demands myself.

ARKAS

Who no affection feels doth never want Excuses. To the king I will relate What hath befallen. O that in thy soul Thou wouldst revolve his noble conduct to thee Since thy arrival to the present day!

SCENE III

IPHIGENIA (_alone_)

These words at an unseasonable hour Produce a strong revulsion in my breast; I am alarm'd!--For as the rushing tide In rapid currents eddies o'er the rocks Which lie among the sand upon the shore; E'en so a stream of joy o'erwhelm'd my soul. I grasp'd what had appear'd impossible. It was as though another gentle cloud Around me lay, to raise me from the earth, And rock my spirit in the same sweet sleep Which the kind goddess shed around my brow, What time her circling arm from danger snatched me. My brother forcibly engross'd my heart; I listen'd only to his friend's advice; My soul rush'd eagerly to rescue them, And as the mariner with joy surveys The less'ning breakers of a desert isle, So Tauris lay behind me. But the voice Of faithful Arkas wakes me from my dream, Reminding me that those whom I forsake Are also men. Deceit doth now become Doubly detested. O my soul, be still! Beginn'st thou now to tremble and to doubt? Thy lonely shelter on the firm-set earth Must thou abandon? and, embark'd once more, At random drift upon tumultuous waves, A stranger to thyself and to the world?

SCENE IV

IPHIGENIA, PYLADES

PYLADES

Where is she? that my words with speed may tell The joyful tidings of our near escape!

IPHIGENIA

Oppress'd with gloomy care, I much require The certain comfort thou dost promise me.

PYLADES

Thy brother is restor'd! The rocky paths Of this unconsecrated shore we trod In friendly converse, while behind us lay, Unmark'd by us, the consecrated grove; And ever with increasing glory shone The fire of youth around his noble brow. Courage and hope his glowing eye inspir'd; And his exultant heart resigned itself To the delight, the joy, of rescuing Thee, his deliverer, also me, his friend.

IPHIGENIA

The gods shower blessings on thee, Pylades! And from those lips which breathe such welcome news Be the sad note of anguish never heard!

PYLADES

I bring yet more,--for Fortune, like a prince, Comes not alone, but well accompanied. Our friends and comrades we have also found. Within a bay they had conceal'd the ship, And mournful sat expectant. They beheld Thy brother, and a joyous shout uprais'd, Imploring him to haste the parting hour. Each hand impatient long'd to grasp the oar, While from the shore a gently murmuring breeze, Perceiv'd by all, unfurl'd its wing auspicious. Let us then hasten; guide me to the fane, That I may tread the sanctuary, and win With sacred awe the goal of our desires. I can unaided on my shoulder bear The goddess' image: how I long to feel The precious burden!

(_While speaking the last words, he approaches the Temple, without perceiving that he is not followed by_ IPHIGENIA: _at length he turns around_.)

Why thus lingering stand? Why art thou silent? wherefore thus confus'd? Doth some new obstacle oppose our bliss? Inform me, hast thou to the king announc'd The prudent message we agreed upon?

IPHIGENIA

I have, dear Pylades; yet wilt thou chide. Thy very aspect is a mute reproach. The royal messenger arriv'd, and I, According to thy counsel, fram'd my speech. He seem'd surpris'd, and urgently besought, That to the monarch I should first announce The rite unusual, and attend his will. I now await the messenger's return.

PYLADES

Danger again doth hover o'er our heads! Alas! Why hast thou failed to shroud thyself Within the veil of sacerdotal rites?

IPHIGENIA

I never have employ'd them as a veil.

PYLADES

Pure soul! thy scruples will destroy alike Thyself and us. Why did I not forsee Such an emergency, and tutor thee This counsel also wisely to elude?

IPHIGENIA

Chide only me, for mine alone the blame. Yet other answer could I not return To him, who strongly and with reason urged What my own heart acknowledg'd to be right.

PYLADES

The danger thickens; but let us be firm. Nor with incautious haste betray ourselves; Calmly await the messenger's return, And then stand fast, whatever his reply: For the appointment of such sacred rites Doth to the priestess, not the king, belong. Should he demand the stranger to behold, Who is by madness heavily oppress'd, Evasively pretend, that in the fane, Well guarded, thou retainest him and me. Thus you secure us time to fly with speed, Bearing the sacred treasure from this race, Unworthy its possession. Phoebus sends Auspicious omens, and fulfils his word, Ere we the first conditions have perform'd. Free is Orestes, from the curse absolv'd! Oh, with the freed one, to the rocky isle Where dwells the god, waft us, propitious gales. Thence to Mycene, that she may revive; That from the ashes of the extinguish'd hearth, The household gods may joyously arise, And beauteous fire illumine their abode! Thy hand from golden censers first shall strew The fragrant incense. O'er that threshold thou Shalt life and blessing once again dispense, The curse atone, and all thy kindred grace With the fresh bloom of renovated life.

IPHIGENIA

As doth the flower revolve to meet the sun, Once more my spirit to sweet comfort turns, Struck by thy words' invigorating ray. How dear the counsel of a present friend, Lacking whose godlike power, the lonely one In silence droops! for, lock'd within his breast, Slowly are ripen'd purpose and resolve, Which friendship's genial warmth had soon matur'd.

PYLADES

Farewell! I haste to re-assure our friends, Who anxiously await us: then with speed I will return, and, hid within the brake, Attend thy signal.--Wherefore, all at once, Doth anxious thought o'ercloud thy brow serene?

IPHIGENIA

Forgive me! As light clouds athwart the sun, So cares and fears float darkling o'er my soul.

PYLADES

Oh, banish fear! With danger it hath form'd A close alliance,--they are constant friends.

IPHIGENIA

It is an honest scruple, which forbids That I should cunningly deceive the king, And plunder him who was my second father.

PYLADES

Him thou dost fly, who would have slain thy brother.

IPHIGENIA

To me, at least, he hath been ever kind.

PYLADES

What Fate commands is not ingratitude.

IPHIGENIA Alas! it still remains ingratitude; Necessity alone can justify it.

PYLADES

Thee, before gods and men, it justifies.

IPHIGENIA

But my own heart is still unsatisfied.

PYLADES

Scruples too rigid are a cloak for pride.

IPHIGENIA

I cannot argue, I can only feel.

PYLADES

Conscious of right, thou shouldst respect thyself.

IPHIGENIA

Then only doth the heart know perfect ease. When not a stain pollutes it.

PYLADES

In this fane Pure hast thou kept thy heart. Life teaches us To be less strict with others and ourselves; Thou'lt learn the lesson too. So wonderful Is human nature, and its varied ties Are so involv'd and complicate, that none May hope to keep his inmost spirit pure, And walk without perplexity through life. Nor are we call'd upon to judge ourselves; With circumspection to pursue his path, Is the immediate duty of a man; For seldom can he rightly estimate, Of his past conduct or his present deeds.

IPHIGENIA

Almost thou dost persuade me to consent.

PYLADES

Needs there persuasion when no choice is granted? To save thyself, thy brother, and a friend, One path presents itself, and canst thou ask If we shall follow it?

IPHIGENIA

Still let me pause, For such injustice thou couldst not thyself Calmly return for benefits receiv'd.

PYLADES

If we should perish, bitter self-reproach, Forerunner of despair, will be thy portion. It seems thou art not used to suffer much, when, to escape so great calamity, Thou canst refuse to utter one false word.

IPHIGENIA

Oh, that I bore within a manly heart! Which, when it hath conceiv'd a bold resolve, 'Gainst every other voice doth close itself.

PYLADES

In vain thou dost refuse; with iron hand Necessity commands; her stern decree Is law supreme, to which the gods themselves Must yield submission. In dread silence rules The uncounsell'd sister of eternal fate. What she appoints thee to endure,--endure; What to perform,--perform. The rest thou knowest. Ere long I will return, and then receive The seal of safety from thy sacred hand.

SCENE V

IPHIGENIA (_alone_)

I must obey him, for I see my friends Beset with peril. Yet my own sad fate Doth with increasing anguish move my heart. May I no longer feed the silent hope Which in my solitude I fondly cherish'd? Shall the dire curse eternally endure? And shall our fated race ne'er rise again With blessings crown'd?--All mortal things decay-- The noblest powers, the purest joys of life At length subside: then wherefore not the curse? And have I vainly hoped that, guarded here, Secluded from the fortunes of my race, I, with pure heart and hands, some future day Might cleanse the deep defilement of our house? Scarce was my brother in my circling arms From raging madness suddenly restor'd, Scarce had the ship, long pray'd for, near'd the strand Once more to waft me to my native shores, When unrelenting Fate, with iron hand, A double crime enjoins; commanding me 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! Nor the old Titan's hate, toward you, ye gods Infix its vulture talons in my breast! Save me and save your image in my soul!

An ancient song comes back upon mine ear-- I had forgotten it, and willingly-- The Parcæ's song, which horribly they sang, What time, hurl'd headlong from his golden seat, Fell Tantalus. They with their noble friend Keen anguish suffer'd; savage was their breast And horrible their song. In days gone by, When we were children, oft our ancient nurse Would sing it to us, and I mark'd it well.

Oh, fear the immortals,
Ye children of men!
Eternal dominion
They hold in their hands,
And o'er their wide empire
Wield absolute sway.
Whom they have exalted
Let him fear them most!
Around golden tables,
On cliffs and clouds resting
The seats are prepar'd.

If contest ariseth,
The guests are hurl'd headlong,
Disgrac'd and dishonor'd,
To gloomy abysses,
And, fetter'd in darkness,
Await the vain longing
A juster decree.

But in feasts everlasting,
Around the gold tables
Still dwell the immortals.
From mountain to mountain
They stride; while ascending
From fathomless chasms
The breath of the Titans,
Half-stifled with anguish,
Like volumes of incense
Fumes up to the skies.

From races ill-fated,
Their-aspect joy-bringing,
Oft turn the celestials,
And shun in the children
To gaze on the features
Once lov'd and still speaking
Of their mighty sire.

So chanted the Parcae;
The banish'd one hearkens
The song, the hoar captive
Immur'd in his dungeon,
His children's doom ponders,
And boweth his head.