Iphigenia in Tauris Part 7

Let not this long-awaited happiness, Which yet my heart hath scarcely realiz'd, Like to the shadow of departed friends, Glide vainly by with triple sorrow fraught!

ORESTES, _returning_.

Dost thou for Pylades and for thyself Implore the G.o.ds, blend not my name with yours; Thou wilt not save the wretch whom thou wouldst join, But wilt partic.i.p.ate his curse and woe.

IPHIGENIA.

My destiny is firmly bound to thine.

ORESTES.

No, say not so; alone and unattended Let me descend to Hades. Though thou shouldst In thine own veil enwrap the guilty one.

Thou couldst not shroud him from his wakeful foes; And e'en thy sacred presence, heavenly maid, Drives them aside, but scares them not away.

With brazen impious feet they dare not tread Within the precincts of this sacred grove: Yet in the distance, ever and anon, I hear their horrid laughter, like the howl Of famish'd wolves, beneath the tree wherein The traveller hides. Without, encamp'd they lie, And should I quit this consecrated grove, Shaking their serpent locks, they would arise, And, raising clouds of dust on every side, Ceaseless pursue their miserable prey.

IPHIGENIA.

Orestes, canst thou hear a friendly word?

ORESTES.

Reserve it for one favour'd by the G.o.ds.

IPHIGENIA.

To thee they give anew the light of hope.

ORESTES.

Through clouds and smoke I see the feeble gleam Of the death-stream which lights me down to h.e.l.l.

IPHIGENIA.

Hast thou one sister only, thy Electra?

ORESTES.

I knew but one: yet her kind destiny, Which seem'd to us so terrible, betimes Removed an elder sister from the woe That dogs the race of Pelops. Cease, oh cease Thy questions, maiden, nor thus league thyself With the Eumenides, who blow away, With fiendish joy, the ashes from my soul, Lest the last spark of horror's fiery brand Should be extinguish'd there. Must then the fire, Deliberately kindl'd and supplied With h.e.l.lish sulphur, never cease to sear My tortur'd bosom?

IPHIGENIA.

In the flame I throw Sweet incense. Let the gentle breath of love, Low murmuring, cool thy bosom's fiery glow.

Orestes, fondly lov'd,--canst thou not hear me?

Hath the terrific Furies' grisly band Completely dried the life-blood in thy veins?

Creeps there, as from the Gorgon's direful head, A petrifying charm through all thy limbs?

If hollow voices, from a mother's blood, Call thee to h.e.l.l, may not a sister's word With benediction pure ascend to heaven, And summon thence some gracious power to aid thee?

ORESTES.

She calls! she calls!--Thou too desir'st my death?

Is there a fury shrouded in thy form?

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,--look on me, Orestes!

ORESTES.

Thou!

IPHIGENIA.

My own brother!

ORESTES.

Hence, away, begone!

Touch not these locks, I counsel thee; from me, As from Creusa's bridal robe, proceeds An unextinguishable fire. Depart!

Like Hercules, an ignominious death, Unworthy wretch, look'd in myself, I'll die.

IPHIGENIA.

Thou shalt not peris.h.!.+ Would that I might hear One quiet word from thee! dispel my doubts, Make sure the bliss I have implor'd so long.

A wheel of joy and sorrow in my heart Ceaseless revolves. With shy reserve I turn From one unknown; but unto thee, my brother, My inmost heart resistlessly impels me.

ORESTES.

Is this Lyaeus' temple? Doth the glow Of holy rage unbridl'd thus possess The sacred priestess?

IPHIGENIA.

Hear me, oh, look up!

See how my heart, which hath been clos'd so long, Doth open to the bliss of seeing thee, The dearest treasure that the world contains,-- Of falling on thy neck, and folding thee Within my longing arms, which have till now Met the embraces of the empty wind.

Do not repulse me,--the eternal spring, Whose crystal waters from Parna.s.sus flow, Bounds not more gaily on from rock to rock, Down to the golden vale, than from my heart The waters of affection freely gush, And round me form a circling sea of bliss.

Orestes! Oh, my brother!

ORESTES.

Lovely nymph!

Nor thy caresses, nor thyself I trust; Diana claims attendants more severe, And doth avenge her desecrated fane.

Remove thy circling arm! and if thou wilt Safety and love upon a youth bestow, Unto my friend, more worthy than myself, Impart thy gifts; among yon rocks he roves; Go seek him, guide him hence, and heed not me.

IPHIGENIA.

Brother, command thyself, and better know Thy new-found sister, nor misconstrue thus Her pure and heav'nly joy. Ye G.o.ds, remove From his fix'd eye delusion, lest this hour Of highest bliss should make us trebly wretched!

Oh she is here, thine own, thy long-lost sister, Whom great Diana from the altar s.n.a.t.c.h'd, And safely plac'd here in her sacred fane.

A captive thou, prepar'd for sacrifice, And findest here a sister in the priestess.

ORESTES.

Accursed race! Now may the sun behold Your final doom. Is not Electra here?

That she with us may perish, nor her life For heavier doom and deeper woe reserve.

'Tis well,--I follow, priestess! Fratricide Is an old custom of our ancient house; And you, ye G.o.ds, I thank, that ye resolve Childless to root me hence. Thee let me counsel To view too fondly neither sun nor stars.

Come follow to the gloomy realms below!

As dragons, gender'd in the sulphur pool, Swallow each other with voracious rage, So our accurs'd race destroys itself.

Childless and guiltless come below with me!

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 pierc'd.

His mother fell!--Appear, indignant shade!

Within the circle step, ye fiends of h.e.l.l, Be present at the welcome spectacle, The last, most horrible, that ye prepare!

Nor hate, nor vengeance, whets the poignard now, A sister is constrain'd to deal the blow.

Weep not! Thy guiltless soul is free from crime.

From earliest infancy I nought have lov'd, As thee I could have lov'd, my sister. Come, The weapon raise, spare not, this bosom rend, And make an outlet for its boiling streams!

(_He sinks exhausted._)

IPHIGENIA.

Alone I cannot bear this bliss and woe.

Where art thou, Pylades? Thine aid I need.