ORESTES.Son of King Strophios he is called of men.
IPHIGENIA.Whom Atreus' daughter wed?—My kinsman then.
ORESTES.Our cousin, and my true and only friend.
IPHIGENIA.He was not born, when I went to mine end.
ORESTES.No, Strophios had no child for many a year.
IPHIGENIA.I give thee hail, husband of one so dear.
ORESTES.My more than kinsman, saviour in my need!
IPHIGENIA.But mother … Speak: how did ye dare that deed?
ORESTES.Our father's wrongs … But let that story be.
IPHIGENIA.And she to slay her king! What cause had she?
ORESTES.Forget her! … And no tale for thee it is.
IPHIGENIA.So be it.—And thou art Lord of Argolis?
ORESTES.Our uncle rules. I walk an exile's ways.
IPHIGENIA.Doth he so trample on our fallen days?
ORESTES.Nay: there be those that drive me, Shapes of Dread.
IPHIGENIA.Ah!That frenzy on the shore! 'Tis as they said…
ORESTES.They saw me in mine hour. It needs must be.
IPHIGENIA.'Twas our dead mother's Furies hounding thee!
ORESTES.My mouth is bloody with the curb they ride.
IPHIGENIA.What brought thee here beyond the Friendless Tide?
ORESTES.What leads me everywhere—Apollo's word.
IPHIGENIA.Seeking what end?—Or may the tale be heard?
ORESTES.Nay, I can tell thee all. It needs must beThe whole tale of my days of misery.When this sore evil that we speak not ofLit on my hand, this way and that they droveMy body, till the God by diverse pathsLed me to Athens, that the nameless WrathsMight bring me before judgment. For that landA pure tribunal hath, where Ares' hand,Red from an ancient stain, by Zeus was sentFor justice. Thither came I; and there wentGod's hate before me, that at first no manWould give me shelter. Then some few beganTo pity, and set out for me aloofOne table. There I sate within their roof,But without word they signed to me, as oneApart, unspoken to, unlocked upon,Lest touch of me should stain their meat and sup.And every man in measure filled his cupAnd gave me mine, and took their joy apart,While I sat silent; for I had no heartTo upbraid the hosts that fed me. On I wroughtIn my deep pain, feigning to mark them not.
And now, men say, mine evil days are madeA rite among them and the cups are laidApart for each. The rule abideth still.
Howbeit, when I was come to Ares' HillThey gave me judgment. On one stone I stood,On one she that was eldest of the broodThat hunted me so long. And many a wordTouching my mother's death was spoke and heard,Till Phoebus rose to save me. Even layThe votes of Death and Life; when, lo, a swayOf Pallas' arm, and free at last I stoodFrom that death grapple. But the Shapes of Blood—Some did accept the judgment, and of graceConsent to make their house beneath that placeIn darkness. Others still consented not,But clove to me the more, like bloodhounds hotOn the dying; till to Phoebus' house once moreI crept, and cast me starving on the floorFacing the Holy Place, and made my cry:"Lord Phoebus, here I am come, and here will die,Unless thou save me, as thou hast betrayed."And, lo, from out that dark and golden shadeA voice: "Go, seek the Taurian citadel:Seize there the carven Artemis that fellFrom heaven, and stablish it on Attic soil.So comes thy freedom." [IPHIGENIA shrinks.]Sister, in this toil
Help us!—If once that image I may winThat day shall end my madness and my sin:And thou, to Argos o'er the sundering foamMy many-oared barque shall bear thee home.
O sister loved and lost, O pitying face,Help my great peril; help our father's race.For lost am I and perished all the powersOf Pelops, save that heavenly thing be ours!
LEADER.Strange wrath of God hath fallen, like hot rain,On Tantalus' house: he leadeth them through pain.
IPHIGENIA.Long ere you came my heart hath yearned to beIn Argos, brother, and so near to thee:But now—thy will is mine. To ease thy pain,To lift our father's house to peace again,And hate no more my murderers—aye,'tis good.Perchance to clean this hand that sought thy blood,And save my people…But the goddess' eyes,How dream we to deceive them? Or what wiseEscape the King, when on his sight shall fallThe blank stone of the empty pedestal? …I needs must die … What better can I do?
And yet, one chance there is: could I but goTogether with the image: couldst thou bearBoth on the leaping seas! The risk were fair.But how?
Nay, I must wait then and be slain:Thou shalt walk free in Argolis again,And all life smile on thee … Dearest, we needNor shrink from that. I shall by mine own deedHave saved thee. And a man gone from the earthIs wept for. Women are but little worth.
ORESTES.My mother and then thou? It may not be.This hand hath blood enough. I stand with theeOne-hearted here, be it for life or death,And either bear thee, if God favoureth,With me to Greece and home, or else lie hereDead at thy side.—But mark me: if thou fearLest Artemis be wroth, how can that be?Hath not her brother's self commanded meTo bear to Greece her image?—Oh, he knewHer will! He knew that in this land we twoMust meet once more. All that so far hath pastDoth show his work. He will not at the lastFail. We shall yet see Argos, thou and I.
IPHIGENIA.To steal for thee the image, yet not dieMyself! 'Tis that we need. 'Tis that doth killMy hope. Else … Oh, God knows I have the will!
ORESTES.How if we slew your savage king?
IPHIGENIA.Ah, no:He sheltered me, a stranger.
ORESTES.Even so,If it bring life for me and thee, the deedMay well be dared.
IPHIGENIA.I could not … Nay; indeedI thank thee for thy daring.
ORESTES.Canst thou hideMy body in the shrine?
IPHIGENIA.There to abideTill nightfall, and escape?
ORESTES.Even so; the nightIs the safe time for robbers, as the lightFor just men.
IPHIGENIA.There be sacred watchers thereWho needs must see us.
ORESTES.Gods above! What prayerCan help us then?
IPHIGENIA.I think I dimly seeOne chance.
ORESTES.What chance? Speak out thy fantasy.
IPHIGENIA'.On thine affliction I would build my way.
ORESTES.Women have strange devices.
IPHIGENIA.I would sayThou com'st from Hellas with thy mother's bloodUpon thee.
ORESTES.Use my shame, if any goodWill follow.
IPHIGENIA.Therefore, an offence most highIt were to slay thee to the goddess!
ORESTES.Why?Though I half guess.
IPHIGENIA.Thy body is unclean.—Oh, I will fill them with the fear of sin!
ORESTES.What help is that for the Image?
IPHIGENIA.I will craveTo cleanse thee in the breaking of the wave.
ORESTES.That leaves the goddess still inside her shrine,And'tis for her we sailed.
IPHIGENIA.A touch of thineDefiled her. She too must be purified.
ORESTES.Where shall it be? Thou knowest where the tideSweeps up in a long channel?
IPHIGENIA.Yes! And whereYour ship, I guess, lies moored.
ORESTES.Whose hand will bear—Should it be thine?—the image from her throne?
IPHIGENIA.No hand of man may touch it save mine own.
ORESTES.And Pylades—what part hath he herein?
IPHIGENIA.The same as thine. He bears the self-same sin.
ORESTES.How wilt thou work the plan—hid from the kingOr known?
IPHIGENIA.To hide it were a hopeless thing..Oh, I will face him, make him yield to me.
ORESTES.Well, fifty oars lie waiting on the sea.
IPHIGENIA.Aye, there comes thy work, till an end be made.
ORESTES.Good. It needs only that these women aidOur secret. Do thou speak with them, and findWords of persuasion. Power is in the mindOf woman to wake pity.—For the rest,God knoweth: may it all end for the best!
IPHIGENIA.O women, you my comrades, in your eyesI look to read my fate. In you it lies,That either I find peace, or be cast downTo nothing, robbed for ever of mine own—Brother, and home, and sister pricelesslyBeloved.—Are we not women, you and I,A broken race, to one another true,And strong in our shared secrets? Help me throughThis strait; keep hid the secret of our flight,And share our peril! Honour shineth brightOn her whose lips are steadfast … Heaven above!Three souls, but one in fortune, one in love,Thou seest us go—is it to death or home?If home, then surely, surely, there shall comePart of our joy to thee. I swear, I swearTo aid thee also home …
[she goes to one after another, and presently kneels embracing the knees of the LEADER.]
I make my prayerBy that right hand; to thee, too, by that dearCheek; by thy knees; by all that is not hereOf things beloved, by mother, father, child—Thou hadst a child!—How say ye? Have ye smiledOr turned from me? For if ye turn away,I and my brother are lost things this day.
LEADER.Be of good heart, sweet mistress. Only goTo happiness. No child of man shall knowFrom us thy secret. Hear me, Zeus on high!
IPHIGENIA (rising).God bless you for that word, and fill your eyeWith light!—
[turning to ORESTES and PYLADES.]
But now, to work! Go thou, and thou,In to the deeper shrine. King Thoas nowShould soon be here to question if the priceBe yet paid of the strangers' sacrifice.
[ORESTES and PYLADES go in.]
Thou Holy One, that on the shrouded sandOf Aulis saved me from a father's handBlood-maddened, save me now, and save these twain.Else shall Apollo's lips, through thy disdain,Be no more true nor trusted in men's eyes.Come from the friendless shore, the cruel skies,Come back: what mak'st thou here, when o'er the seaA clean and joyous land doth call for thee?
[she follows the men into the temple.]
Bird of the sea rocks, of the bursting spray,O halcyon bird,That wheelest crying, crying, on thy way;Who knoweth grief can read the tale of thee:One love long lost, one song for ever heardAnd wings that sweep the sea.
Sister, I too beside the sea complain,A bird that hath no wing.Oh, for a kind Greek market-place again,For Artemis that healeth woman's pain; 'Here I stand hungering.Give me the little hill above the sea,The palm of Delos fringed delicately,The young sweet laurel and the olive-treeGrey-leaved and glimmering;O Isle of Leto, Isle of pain and love;The Orbed Water and the spell thereof;Where still the Swan, minstrel of things to be,Doth serve the Muse and sing!
Ah, the old tears, the old and blinding tearsI gave God then,When my town fell, and noise was in mine earsOf crashing towers, and forth they guided meThrough spears and lifted oars and angry menOut to an unknown sea.They bought my flesh with gold, and sore afraidI came to this dark EastTo serve, in thrall to Agamemnon's maid,This Huntress Artemis, to whom is paidThe blood of no slain beast;Yet all is bloody where I dwell, Ah me!Envying, envying that miseryThat through all life hath endured changelessly.For hard things borne from birthMake iron of man's heart, and hurt the less.'Tis change that paineth; and the bitternessOf life's decay when joy hath ceased to beThat makes dark all the earth.
Behold, [STROPHE 2.]Two score and ten there beRowers that row for thee,And a wild hill air, as if Pan were there,Shall sound on the Argive sea,Piping to set thee free.
Or is it the stricken stringOf Apollo's lyre doth singJoyously, as he guideth theeTo Athens, the land of spring;While I wait wearying?
Oh, the wind and the oar,When the great sail swells before,With sheets astrain, like a horse on the rein;And on, through the race and roar,She feels for the farther shore.
Ah me, [ANTISTROPHE 2.]To rise upon wings and holdStraight on up the steeps of goldWhere the joyous Sun in fire doth run,Till the wings should faint and foldO'er the house that was mine of old:
Or watch where the glade belowWith a marriage dance doth glow,And a child will glide from her mother's sideOut, out, where the dancers flow:As I did, long ago.
Oh, battles of gold and rareRaiment and starred hair,And bright veils crossed amid tresses tossedIn a dusk of dancing air!O Youth and the days that were!
[enter KING THOAS, with soldiers.]
THOAS.Where is the warden of this sacred gate,The Greek woman? Is her work ended yetWith those two strangers? Do their bodies lieAflame now in the rock-cleft sanctuary?
LEADER. Here is herself, O King, to give thee word. enter, from the temple, IPHIGENIA, carrying the image on high.
THOAS.How, child of Agamemnon! Hast thou stirredFrom her eternal base, and to the sunBearest in thine own arms, the Holy One?
IPHIGENIA.Back Lord! No step beyond the pillared way.
THOAS.But how? Some rule is broken?
IPHIGENIA.I unsayThat word. Be all unspoken and unwrought!
THOAS.What means this greeting strange? Disclose thy thought.
IPHIGENIA.Unclean the prey was that ye caught, O King.
THOAS.Who showed thee so? Thine own imagining?
IPHIGENIA.The Image stirred and shuddered from its seat.
THOAS.Itself? … Some shock of earthquake loosened it.
IPHIGENIA.Itself. And the eyes closed one breathing space.
THOAS.But why? For those two men's bloodguiltiness?
IPHIGENIA.That, nothing else. For, Oh, their guilt is sore.
THOAS.They killed some of my herdsmen on the shore?
IPHIGENIA.Their sin was brought from home, not gathered here.
THOAS.What? I must know this.—Make thy story clear.
IPHIGENIA. (she puts the image down and moves nearer to thoas.) The men have slain their mother.
THOAS.God! And theseBe Greeks!
IPHIGENIAThey both are hunted out of Greece.
THOAS.For this thou has brought the Image to the sun?
IPHIGENIA.The fire of heaven can cleanse all malison.
THOAS.How didst thou first hear of their deed of shame?
IPHIGENIA.When the Image hid its eyes, I questioned them.
THOAS.Good. Greece hath taught thee many a subtle art.
IPHIGENIA.Ah, they too had sweet words to move my heart.
THOAS.Sweet words? How, did they bring some news of Greece?
IPHIGENIA.Orestes, my one brother, lives in peace.
THOAS.Surely! Good news to make thee spare their lives …
IPHIGENIA.My father too in Argos lives and thrives.
THOAS.While thou didst think but of the goddess' laws!
IPHIGENIA.Do I not hate all Greeks? Have I not cause?
THOAS.Good cause. But now … What service should be paid?
IPHIGENIA.The Law of long years needs must be obeyed.
THOAS.To work then, with thy sword and handwashing!
IPHIGENIA.First I must shrive them with some cleansing thing.
THOAS.What? Running water, or the sea's salt spray?
IPHIGENIA.The sea doth wash all the world's ills away.
THOAS.For sure. 'Twill make them cleaner for the knife.
IPHIGENIA.And my hand, too, cleaner for all my life.
THOAS.Well, the waves lap close by the temple floor.
IPHIGENIA.We need a secret place. I must do more.
THOAS.Some rite unseen? 'Tis well. Go where thou wilt.
IPHIGENIA.The Image likewise must be purged of guilt.
THOAS.The stain hath touched it of that mother's blood?
IPHIGENIA.I durst not move it else, from where it stood.
THOAS.How good thy godliness and forethought! Aye,Small wonder all our people holds thee high.
IPHIGENIA.Dost know then what I fain would have?
THOAS.'Tis thine to speak and it shall be.
IPHIGENIA.Put bondage on the strangers both …
THOAS.Why bondage? Whither can they flee?
IPHIGENIA.Put not thy faith in any Greek.
THOAS (to ATTENDANTS).Ho, men! Some thongs and fetters, go!
IPHIGENIA.Stay; let them lead the strangers here, outside the shrine …
THOAS.It shall be so.
IPHIGENIA.And lay dark raiment on their heads …
THOAS.To veil them, lest the Sun should see.
IPHIGENIA.And lend me some of thine own spears.
THOAS.This company shall go with thee.
IPHIGENIA.Next, send through all the city streets a herald …
THOAS.Aye; and what to say?
IPHIGENIA.That no man living stir abroad.
THOAS.The stain of blood might cross their way.
IPHIGENIA.Aye, sin like theirs doth spread contagion.
THOAS (to an ATTENDANT).Forth, and publish my command …
IPHIGENIA.That none stir forth—nor look …
THOAS.Nor look.—How well thou carest for the land!
IPHIGENIA.For one whom I am bound to love.
THOAS.Indeed, I think thou hat'st me not.
IPHIGENIA. And thou meanwhile, here at the temple, wait, O King, and …
THOAS.Wait for what?
IPHIGENIA.Purge all the shrine with fire.
THOAS.'Twill all be clean before you come again.
IPHIGENIA. And while the strangers pass thee close, seeking the sea …
THOAS.What wouldst thou then?
IPHIGENIA.Put darkness on thine eyes.
THOAS.Mine eyes might drink the evil of their crime?
And, should I seem to stay too long …
THOAS.Too long? How shall I judge the time?
IPHIGENIA.Be not dismayed.
THOAS.Perform thy rite all duly. We have time to spare.
IPHIGENIA.And God but grant this cleansing end as I desire!
THOAS.I join thy prayer.
IPHIGENIA. The door doth open! See, they lead the strangers from the cell within, And raiment holy and young lambs, whose blood shall shrive the blood of Sin. And, lo, the light of sacred fires, and things of secret power, arrayed By mine own hand to cleanse aright the strangers, to cleanse Leto's Maid.
[she takes up the image again.]
There passeth here a holy thing: begone, I charge ye,from the road,O whoso by these sacred gates may dwell, hand-consecrateto God,What man hath marriage in his heart, what womangoeth great with child,Begone and tremble from this road: fly swiftly, lest yebe defiled.—
O Queen and Virgin, Leto-born, have pity! Let mecleanse this stain,And pray to thee where pray I would: a clean houseshall be thine again,And we at last win happiness.—Behold, I speak but asI dare;The rest … Oh, God is wise, and thou, my Mistress,thou canst read my prayer.
[The procession passes out, THOAS and the bystanders veiled; Attendants in front, then IPHIGENIA with the Image, then veiled Soldiers, then ORESTES and PYLADES bound, the bonds held by other veiled Soldiers following them. THOAS goes into the Temple.]
CHORUS. [STROPHE.]Oh, fair the fruits of Leto blow:A Virgin, one, with joyous bow,And one a Lord of flashing locks,Wise in the harp, Apollo:She bore them amid Delian rocks,Hid in a fruited hollow.
But forth she fared from that low reef,Sea-cradle of her joy and grief.A crag she knew more near the skiesAnd lit with wilder water,That leaps with joy of Dionyse:There brought she son and daughter.
And there, behold, an ancient Snake,Wine-eyed, bronze-gleaming in the brakeOf deep-leaved laurel, ruled the dell,Sent by old Earth from underStrange caves to guard her oracle—A thing of fear and wonder.
Thou, Phoebus, still a new-born thing,Meet in thy mother's arms to lie,Didst kill the Snake and crown thee king,In Pytho's land of prophecy:Thine was the tripod and the chairOf golden truth; and throned there,Hard by the streams of Castaly,Beneath the untrodden portalOf Earth's mid stone there flows from theeWisdom for all things mortal.
He slew the Snake; he cast, men say,Themis, the child of Earth, awayFrom Pytho and her hallowed stream;Then Earth, in dark derision,Brought forth the Peoples of the DreamAnd all the tribes of Vision.
And men besought them; and from deepConfused underworlds of sleepThey showed blind things that erst had beenAnd are and yet shall followSo did avenge that old Earth QueenHer child's wrong on Apollo.
Then swiftly flew that conquering oneTo Zeus on high, and round the throneTwining a small indignant hand,Prayed him to send redeemingTo Pytho from that troublous bandSprung from the darks of dreaming.
Zeus laughed to see the babe, I trow,So swift to claim his golden rite;He laughed and bowed his head, in vowTo still those voices of the night.And so from out the eyes of menThat dark dream-truth was lost again;And Phoebus, throneed where the throngPrays at the golden portal,Again doth shed in sunlit songHope unto all things mortal.
[enter a MESSENGER, running.]
MESSENGER.Ho, watchers of the fane! Ho, altar-guard,Where is King Thoas gone? Undo the barredPortals, and call the King! The King I seek.
LEADER.What tidings—if unbidden I may speak?
MESSENGER.The strangers both are gone, and we beguiled,By some dark plot of Agamemnon's child:Fled from the land! And on a barque of GreeceThey bear the heaven-sent shape of Artemis.
LEADER.Thy tale is past belief.—Go, swiftly on,And find the King. He is but newly gone.
MESSENGER.Where went he? He must know of what has passed!
LEADER.I know not where he went. But follow fastAnd seek him. Thou wilt light on him ere long.
MESSENGER.See there! The treason of a woman's tongue!Ye all are in the plot, I warrant ye!
LEADER.Thy words are mad! What are the men to me? …Go to the palace, go!
MESSENGER (seeing the great knocker on thetemple door.)I will not stirTill word be come by this good messengerIf Thoas be within these gates or no.—
[thundering at the door.]
Ho, loose the portals! Ye within! What ho!Open, and tell our master one doth standWithout here, with strange evil in his hand.
[enter THAOS from the temple.]
THOAS.Who dares before this portal consecrateMake uproar and lewd battering of the gate?Thy noise hath broke the Altar's ancient peace.
MESSENGER.Ye Gods! They swore to me—and bade me ceaseMy search—the King was gone. And all the while …!
THOAS.These women? How? What sought they by such guile?
MESSENGER.Of them hereafter!—Give me first thine earFor greater things. The virgin ministerThat served our altar, she hath fled from thisAnd stolen the dread Shape of Artemis,With those two Greeks. The cleansing was a lie.
THOAS.She fled?—What wild hope whispered her to fly?
MESSENGER.The hope to save Orestes. Wonder on!
THOAS.Orestes—how? Not Clytemnestra's son?
MESSENGER.And our pledged altar-offering. 'Tis the same.
THOAS.O marvel beyond marvel! By what nameMore rich in wonder can I name thee right?
MESSENGER.Give not thy mind to that. Let ear and sightBe mine awhile; and when thou hast heard the wholeDevise how best to trap them ere the goal.
THOAS.Aye, tell thy tale. Our Tauric seas stretch far,Where no man may escape my wand of war.
MESSENGER.Soon as we reached that headland of the sea,Whereby Orestes' barque lay secretly,We soldiers holding, by thine own commands,The chain that bound the strangers, in our hands,There Agamemnon's daughter made a sign,Bidding us wait far off, for some divineAnd secret fire of cleansing she must make.We could but do her will. We saw her takeThe chain in her own hands and walk behind.Indeed thy servants bore a troubled mind,O King, but how do else? So time went by.Meanwhile to make it seem she wrought some highMagic, she cried aloud: then came the longDrone of some strange and necromantic song,As though she toiled to cleanse that blood; and thereSat we, that long time, waiting. Till a fearO'ertook us, that the men might slip their chainAnd strike the priestess down and plunge amainFor safety: yet the dread our eyes to fillWith sights unbidden held us, and we stillSat silent. But at last all spoke as one,Forbid or not forbid, to hasten onAnd find them. On we went, and suddenly,With oarage poised, like wings upon the sea,An Argive ship we saw, her fifty menAll benched, and on the shore, with every chainCast off, our strangers, standing by the stern!The prow was held by stay-poles: turn by turnThe anchor-cable rose; some men had strungLong ropes into a ladder, which they swungOver the side for those two Greeks to climb.
The plot was open, and we lost no timeBut flew to seize the cables and the maid,And through the stern dragged out the steering-blade,To spoil her course, and shouted: "Ho, what wayIs this, to sail the seas and steal awayAn holy image and its minister?What man art them, and what man's son, to bearOur priestess from the land?" And clear thereonHe spoke: "Orestes, Agamemnon's son,And brother to this maid, whom here in peaceI bear, my long lost sister, back to Greece."
We none the less clung fast to her, and stroveTo drag her to thy judgment-seat. ThereofCame trouble and bruised jaws. For neither theyNor we had weapons with us. But the wayHard-beaten fist and heel from those two menRained upon ribs and flank—again, again…To touch was to fall gasping! Aye, they laidTheir mark on all of us, till back we fledWith bleeding crowns, and some with blinded eyes,Up a rough bank of rock. There on the riseWe found good stones and stood, and fought again.
But archers then came out, and sent a rainOf arrows from the poop, and drove us back.And just then—for a wave came, long and black,And swept them shoreward—lest the priestess' gownShould feel the sea, Orestes stooping downCaught her on his left shoulder: then one strideOut through the sea, the ladder at the sideWas caught, and there amid the benches stoodThe maid of Argos and the carven woodOf heaven, the image of God's daughter high.
And up from the mid galley rose a cry:"For Greece! For Greece, O children of the shoresOf storm! Give way, and let her feel your oars;Churn the long waves to foam. The prize is won.The prize we followed, on and ever on,Friendless beyond the blue Symplegades."A roar of glad throats echoed down the breezeAnd fifty oars struck, and away she flew.And while the shelter lasted, she ran trueFull for the harbour-mouth; but ere she wellReached it, the weather caught her, and the swellWas strong. Then sudden in her teeth a squallDrove the sail bellying back. The men withalWorked with set teeth, kicking against the stream.But back, still back, striving as in a dream,She drifted. Then the damsel rose and prayed:"O Child of Leto, save thy chosen maidFrom this dark land to Hellas, and forgiveMy theft this day, and let these brave men live.Dost thou not love thy brother, Holy One?What marvel if I also love mine own?"
The sailors cried a paean to her prayers,And set those brown and naked arms of theirs,Half-mad with strain, quick swinging chime on chimeTo the helmsman's shout. But vainly; all the timeNearer and nearer rockward they were pressed.One of our men was wading to his breast,Some others roping a great grappling-hook,While I sped hot-foot to the town, to lookFor thee, my Prince, and tell thee what doth pass.
Come with me, Lord. Bring manacles of brassAnd bitter bonds. For now, unless the waveFall sudden calm, no mortal power can saveOrestes. There is One that rules the seaWho grieved for Troy and hates her enemy:Poseidon's self will give into thine handAnd ours this dog, this troubler of the land—The priestess, too, who, recking not what bloodRan red in Aulis, hath betrayed her god!
LEADER.Woe, woe! To fall in these men's hands again,Mistress, and die, and see thy brother slain!
THOAS.Ho, all ye dwellers of my savage townSet saddle on your steeds, and gallop downTo watch the heads, and gather what is castAlive from this Greek wreck. We shall make fast,By God's help, the blasphemers.—Send a corpsOut in good boats a furlong from the shore;So we shall either snare them on the seasOr ride them down by land, and at our easeFling them down gulfs of rock, or pale them highOn stakes in the sun, to feed our birds and die.
Women: you knew this plot. Each one of youShall know, before the work I have to doIs done, what torment is.—Enough. A clearTask is afoot. I must not linger here.
[While THOAS is moving off, his men shouting and running before and behind him, there comes a sudden blasting light and thunder- roll, and ATHENA is seen in the air confronting them.]
ATHENA.Ho, whither now, so hot upon the prey,King Thoas? It is I that bid thee stay,Athena, child of Zeus. Turn back this floodOf wrathful men, and get thee temperate blood.Apollo's word and Fate's ordained pathHave led Orestes here, to escape the wrathOf Them that Hate. To Argos he must bringHis sister's life, and guide that Holy ThingWhich fell from heaven, in mine own land to dwell.So shall his pain have rest, and all be well.Thou hast heard my speech, O King. No death from theeMay share Orestes between rocks and sea:Poseidon for my love doth make the soreWaves gentle, and set free his labouring oar.
And thou, O far away—for, far or nearA goddess speaketh and thy heart must hear—Go on thy ways, Orestes, bearing homeThe Image and thy sister. When ye comeTo god-built Athens, lo, a land there isHalf hid on Attica's last boundaries,A little land, hard by Karystus' Rock,But sacred. It is called by Attic folkHalae. Build there a temple, and bestowTherein thine Image, that the world may knowThe tale of Tauris and of thee, cast outFrom pole to pole of Greece, a blood-hound routOf ill thoughts driving thee. So through the wholeOf time to Artemis the TauropoleShall men make hymns at Halae. And withalGive them this law. At each high festival,A sword, in record of thy death undone,Shall touch a man's throat, and the red blood run—One drop, for old religion's sake. In thisShall live that old red rite of Artemis.And them, Iphigenia, by the stairOf Brauron in the rocks, the Key shalt bearOf Artemis. There shalt thou live and die,And there have burial. And a gift shall lieAbove thy shrine, fair raiment undefiledLeft upon earth by mothers dead with child.
Ye last, O exiled women, true of heartAnd faithful found, ye shall in peace depart,Each to her home: behold Athena's will.
Orestes, long ago on Ares' HillI saved thee, when the votes of Death and LifeLay equal: and henceforth, when men at strifeSo stand, mid equal votes of Life and Death,My law shall hold that Mercy conquereth.Begone. Lead forth thy sister from this shoreIn peace; and thou, Thoas, be wroth no more.
THOAS.Most high Athena, he who bows not lowHis head to God's word spoken, I scarce knowHow such an one doth live. Orestes hathFled with mine Image hence … I bear no wrath.Nor yet against his sister. There is naught,Methinks, of honour in a battle fought'Gainst gods. The strength is theirs. Let those two fareForth to thy land and plant mine Image there.I wish them well.
These bondwomen no lessI will send free to Greece and happiness,And stay my galleys' oars, and bid this brandBe sheathed again, Goddess, at thy command.
ATHENA.'Tis well, O King. For that which needs must beHoldeth the high gods as it holdeth thee.
Winds of the north, O winds that laugh and run,Bear now to Athens Agamemnon's son:Myself am with you, o'er long leagues of foamGuiding my sister's hallowed Image home.
[she floats away.]
Go forth in bliss, O ye whose lotGod shieldeth, that ye perish not!
O great in our dull world of clay,And great in heaven's undying gleam,Pallas, thy bidding we obey:And bless thee, for mine ears have heardThe joy and wonder of a wordBeyond my dream, beyond my dream.