CHOR. I indeed pity you having met with an evil calamity, such as thou never shouldst have met with.
IPH. O mother, to whom I owe my birth, I behold a crowd of men near.
CLY. Ay, the son of the Goddess, my child, for whom thou camest hither.
IPH. Open the house, ye servants, that I may hide myself.
CLY. But why dost thou fly hence, my child?
IPH. I am ashamed to behold this Achilles.
CLY. On what account?
IPH. The unfortunate turn-out of my nuptials shames me.
CLY. Thou art not in a state to give way to delicacy in the present circumstances. But do thou remain, there is no use for punctilio, if we can [but save your life.]
ACH. O hapless lady, daughter of Leda.
CLY. Thou sayest not falsely.
ACH. Terrible things are cried out among the Greeks.
CLY. What cry? tell me.
ACH. Concerning thy child.
CLY. Thou speakest a word of ill omen.
ACH. That it is necessary to slay her.
CLY. Does no one speak the contrary to this?
ACH. Ay, I myself have got into trouble.
CLY. Into what [trouble,] O friend?
ACH. Of having my body stoned with stones.
CLY. What, in trying to save my daughter!
ACH. This very thing.
CLY. And who would have dared to touch thy person?
ACH. All the Greeks.
CLY. And was not the host of the Myrmidons at hand for thee?
ACH. That was the first that showed enmity.
CLY. Then are we utterly undone, my daughter.
ACH. For they railed at me as overcome by a betrothed—
CLY. And what didst thou reply?
ACH. That they should not slay my intended bride.
CLY. For so 'twas right.
ACH. [She] whom her father had promised me.
CLY. Ay, and had sent for from Argos.
ACH. But I was worsted by the outcry.
CLY. For the multitude is a terrible evil.
ACH. But nevertheless I will aid thee.
CLY. And wilt thou, being one, fight with many?
ACH. Dost see these men bearing [my] arms?
CLY. Mayest thou gain by thy good intentions.
ACH. But I will gain.
CLY. Then my child will not be slain?
ACH. Not, at least, with my consent.
CLY. And will any one come to lay hands on the girl?
ACH. Ay, a host of them, but Ulysses will conduct her.
CLY. Will it be the descendant of Sisyphus?
ACH. The very man.
CLY. Doing it of his own accord, or appointed by the army?
ACH. Chosen willingly.
CLY. A wicked choice forsooth, to commit slaughter!
ACH. But I will restrain him.
CLY. But will he lead her unwillingly, having seized her?
ACH. Ay, by her auburn locks.
CLY. But what must I then do?
ACH. Keep hold of your daughter.
CLY. As far as this goes she shall not be slain.
ACH. But it will come to this at all events.
IPH. Mother, do thou hear my words, for I perceive that thou art vainly wrathful with thy husband, but it is not easy for us to struggle with things [almost] impossible. It is meet therefore to praise our friend for his willingness, but it behooves thee also to see that you be not an object of reproach to the army, and we profit nothing more, and he meet with calamity. But hear me, mother, thinking upon what has entered my mind. I have determined to die, and this I would fain do gloriously, I mean, by dismissing all ignoble thoughts. Come hither, mother, consider with me how well I speak. Greece, the greatest of cities, is now all looking upon me, and there rests in me both the passage of the ships and the destruction of Troy, and, for the women hereafter, if the barbarians do them aught of harm, to allow them no longer to carry them off from prosperous Greece, having avenged the destruction of Helen, whom Paris bore away. All these things I dying shall redeem, and my renown, for that I have freed Greece, will be blessed. Moreover, it is not right that I should be too fond of life; for thou hast brought me forth for the common good of Greece, not for thyself only. But shall ten thousand men armed with bucklers, and ten thousand, oars in hand, their country being injured, dare to do some deed against the foes, and perish on behalf of Greece, while my life, being but one, shall hinder all these things? What manner of justice is this? Have we a word to answer? And let me come to this point: it is not meet that this man should come to strife with all the Greeks for the sake of a woman, nor lose his life. And one man, forsooth, is better than ten thousand women, that he should behold the light. But if Diana hath wished to receive my body, shall I, being mortal, become an opponent to the Goddess! But it can not be. I give my body for Greece. Sacrifice it, and sack Troy. For this for a long time will be my memorial, and this my children, my wedding, and my glory. But it is meet that Greeks should rule over barbarians, O mother, but not barbarians over Greeks, for the one is slavish, but the others are free.
CHOR. Thy part, indeed, O virgin, is glorious; but the work of fortune and of the Gods sickens.
ACH. Daughter of Agamemnon, some one of the Gods destined me to happiness, if I obtained thee as a wife, and I envy Greece on thy account, and thee on account of Greece. For well hast thou spoken this, and worthily of the country, for, ceasing to strive with the deity, who is more powerful than thou art, thou hast considered what is good and useful. But still more does a desire of thy union enter my mind, when I look to thy nature, for thou art noble. But consider, for I wish to benefit you, and to receive you to my home, and, Thetis be my witness, I am grieved if I shall not save you, coming to conflict with the Greeks. Consider: death is a terrible ill.
IPH. I speak these words, no others, with due foresight. Enough is the daughter of Tyndarus to have caused contests and slaughter of men through her person: but do not thou, O stranger, die in my behalf, nor slay any one. But let me preserve Greece, if I am able.
ACH. O best of spirits, I have naught further to answer thee, since it seems thus to thee, for thou hast noble thoughts; for wherefore should not one tell the truth? But nevertheless thou mayest perchance repent these things. In order, therefore, that thou mayest all that lies in my power, I will go and place these my arms near the altar, as I will not allow you to die, but hinder it. And thou too wilt perhaps be of my opinion, when thou seest the sword nigh to thy neck. I will not allow thee to die through thy wild determination, but going with these mine arms to the temple of the Goddess, I will await thy presence there.
IPH. Mother, why dost thou silently bedew thine eyes with tears?
CLY. I wretched have a reason, so as to be pained at heart.
IPH. Cease; do not daunt me, but obey me in this.
CLY. Speak, for thou shalt not be wronged at my hands, my child.
IPH. Neither then do thou cut off the locks of thine hair, [nor put on black garments around thy body.]
CLY. Wherefore sayest thou this, my child? Having lost thee—
IPH. Not you indeed—I am saved, and thou wilt be glorious as far as I am concerned.
CLY. How sayest thou? Must I not bemoan thy life?
IPH. Not in the least, since no tomb will be upraised for me.
CLY. Why, what then is death? Is not a tomb customary?
IPH. The altar of the Goddess, daughter of Jove, will be my memorial.
CLY. But, O child, I will obey thee, for thou speakest well.
IPH. Ay, as prospering like the benefactress of Greece.
CLY. What then shall I tell thy sisters?
IPH. Neither do thou clothe them in black garments.
CLY. But shall I speak any kind message from thee to the virgins?
IPH. Ay, [bid them] fare well, and do thou, for my sake, train up this [boy] Orestes to be a man.
CLY. Embrace him, beholding him for the last time.
IPH. O dearest one, thou hast assisted thy friends to the utmost in thy power.
CLY. Can I, by doing any thing in Argos, do thee a pleasure?
IPH. Hate not my father, yes, thy husband.
CLY. He needs shall go through terrible trials on thy account.
IPH. Unwillingly he hath undone me on behalf of the land of Greece.
CLY. But ungenerously, by craft, and not in a manner worthy of Atreus.
IPH. Who will come and lead me, before I am torn away by the hair?
CLY. I will go with thee.
IPH. Not you indeed, thou sayest not well.
CLY. Ay [but I will,] clinging to thy garments.
IPH. Be persuaded by me, mother. Remain, for this is more fitting both for me and thee. But let some one of these my father's followers conduct me to the meadow of Diana, where I may be sacrificed.
CLY. O child, thou art going.
IPH. Ay, and I shall ne'er return.
CLY. Leaving thy mother—
IPH. As thou seest, though, not worthily.
CLY. Hold! Do not leave me.
IPH. I do not suffer thee to shed tears. But, ye maidens, raise aloft the paean for my sad hap, [celebrate] Diana, the daughter of Jove, and let the joyful strain go forth to the Greeks. And let some one make ready the baskets, and let flame burn with the purifying cakes, and let my father serve the altar with his right hand, seeing I am going to bestow upon the Greeks safety that produces victory.
Conduct me, the conqueror of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians. Surround me with crowns, bring them hither. Here is my hair to crown. And [bear hither] the lustral fountains. Encircle [with dances] around the temple and the altar, Diana, queen Diana, the blessed, since by my blood and offering I will wash out her oracles, if it needs must be so. O revered, revered mother, thus + indeed + will we [now] afford thee our tears, for it is not fitting during the sacred rites. O damsels, join in singing Diana, who dwells opposite Chalcis, where the warlike ships have been eager [to set out,] being detained in the narrow harbors of Aulis here through my name. Alas! O my mother-land of Pelasgia, and my Mycenian handmaids.
CHOR. Dost thou call upon the city of Perseus, the work of the Cyclopean hands?
IPH. Thou hast nurtured me for a glory to Greece, and I will not refuse to die.
CHOR. For renown will not fail thee.
IPH. Alas! alas! lamp-bearing day, and thou too, beam of Jove, another, another life and state shall we dwell in. Farewell for me, beloved light!
CHOR. Alas! alas! Behold the destroyer of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians, wending her way, decked as to her head with garlands and with lustral streams, to the altar of the sanguinary Goddess, about to stream with drops of gore, being stricken on her fair neck. Fair dewy streams, and lustral waters from ancestral sources await thee, and the host of the Greeks eager to reach Troy. But let us celebrate Diana, the daughter of Jove, queen of the Gods, as upon a prosperous occasion. O hallowed one, that rejoicest in human sacrifices, send the army of the Greeks into the land of the Phrygians, and the territory of deceitful Troy, and grant that by Grecian spears Agamemnon may place a most glorious crown upon his head, a glory ever to be remembered.
[Enter a MESSENGER.]
MESS. O daughter of Tyndarus, Clytaemnestra, come without the house, that thou mayest hear my words.
CLY. Hearing thy voice, I wretched came hither, terrified and astounded with fear, lest thou shouldst be come, bearing some new calamity to me in addition to the present one.
MESS. Concerning thy daughter, then, I wish to tell thee marvelous and fearful things.
CLY. Then delay not, but speak as quickly as possible.
MESS. But, my dear mistress, thou shalt learn every thing clearly, and I will speak from the very commencement, unless my memory, in something failing, deceive my tongue. For when we came to the inclosure and flowery meads of Diana, the daughter of Jove, where there was an assembly of the army of the Greeks, leading thy daughter, the host of the Greeks was straightway convened. But when king Agamemnon beheld the girl wending her way to the grove for slaughter, he groaned aloud, and turning back his head, he shed tears, placing his garments before his eyes. But she, standing near him that begot her, spake thus: "O father, I am here for thee, and I willing give my body on behalf of my country, and of the whole land of Greece, that, leading it to the altar of the Goddess, they may sacrifice it, since this is ordained. And, as far as I am concerned, may ye be fortunate, and obtain the gift of victory, and reach your native land. Furthermore, let no one of the Greeks lay hands on me, for with a stout heart I will present my neck in silence." Thus much she spoke, and every one marveled on hearing the courage and valor of the virgin. But Talthybius, whose office this was, standing in the midst, proclaimed good-omened silence to the people. And the seer Calchas placed in a golden canister a sharp knife, which he had drawn out,+ within its case,+ and crowned the head of the girl. But the son of Peleus ran around the altar of the Goddess, taking the canister and lustral waters at the same time. And he said: "O Diana, beast-slaying daughter of Jove, that revolvest thy brilliant light by night, receive this offering which we bestow on thee, [we] the army of the Greeks, and king Agamemnon, the pure blood from a fair virgin's neck; and grant that the sail may be without injury to our ships, and that we may take the towers of Troy by the spear." But the Atrides and all the army stood looking on the ground, and the priest, taking the knife, prayed, and viewed her neck, that he might find a place to strike. And no little pity entered my mind, and I stood with eyes cast down, but suddenly there was a marvel to behold. For every one could clearly perceive the sound of the blow, but beheld not the virgin, where on earth she had vanished. But the priest exclaimed, and the whole army shouted, beholding an unexpected prodigy from some one of the Gods, of which, though seen, they had scarcely belief. For a stag lay panting on the ground, of mighty size to see and beautiful in appearance, with whose blood the altar of the Goddess was abundantly wetted. And upon this Calchas (think with what joy!) thus spake: "O leaders of this common host of the Greeks, behold this victim which the Goddess hath brought to her altar, a mountain-roaming stag. This she prefers greatly to the virgin, lest her altar should be denied with generous blood. And she hath willingly received this, and grants us a prosperous sail, and attack upon Troy. Upon this do every sailor take good courage, and go to his ships, since on this day it behooves us, quitting the hollow recesses of Aulis, to pass over the AEgean wave." But when the whole victim was reduced to ashes, he prayed what was meet, that the army might obtain a passage. And Agamemnon sends me to tell thee this, and to say what a fortune he hath met with from the Gods, and hath obtained unwaning glory through Greece. But I speak, having been present, and witnessing the matter. Thy child has evidently flown to the Gods; away then with grief, and cease wrath against your husband. But the will of the Gods is unforeseen by mortals, and them they love, they save. For this day hath beheld thy daughter dying and living [in turn.]
CHOR. How delighted am I at hearing this from the messenger; but he says that thy daughter living abides among the Gods.
CLY. O daughter, of whom of the Gods art thou the theft? How shall I address thee? What shall I say that these words do not offer me a vain comfort, that I may cease from my mournful grief on thy account?
CHOR. And truly king Agamemnon draws hither, having this same story to tell thee.
AG. Lady, as far as thy daughter is concerned, we may be happy, for she really possesses a companionship with the Gods. But it behooves thee, taking this young child [Orestes,] to go home, for the army is looking toward setting sail. And fare thee well, long hence will be my addresses to thee from Troy, and may it be well with thee.
CHOR. Atrides, rejoicing go thou to the land of the Phrygians, and rejoicing return, having obtained for me most glorious spoils from Troy.
* * * * *
NOTES ON IPHIGENIA IN AULIS
* * * *
 From the answer of the old man, Porson's conjecture, [Greek: speude], seems very probable.
 See Hermann's note. The passage has been thus rendered by Ennius:
AG. "Quid nocti" videtur in altisono Coeli clupeo? SEN. Temo superat stellas, cogens Sublime etiam atque etiam noctis Itiner.
See Scaliger on Varr. de L.L. vi. p.143, and on Festus s.v. Septemtriones. All the editors have overlooked the following passage of Apuleius de Deo Socr. p. 42, ed. Elm. "Suspicientes in hoc perfectissimo mundi, ut ait Ennius, clypeo," whence, as I have already observed in my notes on the passage, there is little doubt that Ennius wrote "in altisono mundi clypeo," of which coeli was a gloss, naturally introduced by those who were ignorant of the use of mundus in the same sense. The same error has taken place in some of the MSS. of Virg. Georg. i. 5, 6. Compare the commentators on Pompon. Mela. i. 1, ed. Gronov.
 Such seems the force of [Greek: epi pasin agathois]. The Cambridge editor aptly compares Hipp. 461. [Greek: chren s' epi rhetois ara Patera phyteuein].
 The [Greek: synnymphokomos] was probably a kind of gentleman usher, but we have no correlative either to the custom or the word.
 Hermann rightly regards this as a hendiadys.
 [Greek: dromoi] for [Greek: moroi] is Markland's, and, doubtless, the correct, reading. [Greek: monos] is merely a correction of the Aldine edition.
 But read [Greek: tas—deltous] with the Cambridge editor, = "in relation to my former dispatches."
 [Greek: tan] should probably be erased before [Greek: kolpode], with the Cambridge editor. He remarks, "the sea-port, although separated from the island by the narrow strait of Euripus, is styled its wing." On the metrical difficulties and corruptions throughout this chorus, I must refer the reader to the same critic.
 But [Greek: lektron], uxorem, is better, with ed. Camb.
 It is impossible to get a satisfactory sense as these lines now stand. I have translated [Greek: exorma]. There seems to be a lacuna. The following are the readings of the Camb. ed. [Greek: en gar p. anteseis, palin ex. s. chalinous, epi kyklopon nin hieis thym.]
 But [Greek: anchialon] is better, with ed. Camb. from the Homeric [Greek: chalkida t' anchialon]. He remarks that this word, in tragedy, is always the epithet of a place.
 i.e. to exact satisfaction for her abduction.
 i.e. the tents containing the armed soldiers.
 [Greek: hedomenous] refers both to [Greek: Protesilaon] and [Greek: Palamedea], divided by the schema Alcmanicum. See Markland.
 Cf. Homer, Il. [Greek: B]. 763 sqq.
 Cf. Monk on Hippol. 1229. I have translated [Greek: syringas] according to the figure of a part for the whole. The whole of the remainder of this chorus has been condemned as spurious by the Cambridge editor. See his remarks, p. 219 sqq.
 Can [Greek: theton] refer to [Greek: agalma] understood?
 This part of the chorus is hopeless, as it is evidently imperfect. See Herm.
 The Cambridge editor would assign this line to Menelaus.
 I read [Greek: eu kekompseusai], with Ruhnken. The Cambridge editor also reads [Greek: ponera], which is better suited to the style of Euripides.
 The same scholar has anticipated my conjecture, [Greek: saphes] for [Greek: saphes].
 Compare the similar conduct of Pausanias in Thucyd. i. 130, Dejoces in Herodot. i., with Livy, iii. 36, and Apul. de Deo Socr. p. 44, ed. Elm.
 I read [Greek: to Priamou] with Elmsley. See the Camb. ed.
 With the Cambridge editor I have restored the old reading [Greek: echontes].
 But see ed. Camb.
 [Greek: au] is a better reading. See Markland and ed. Camb.
 There is little hope of this passage, unless we adopt the readings of the Cambridge editor, [Greek: hous labon strateum'. hetoimoi d' eisi]. The next line was lost, but has been restored from Theophilus ad Autol. p. 258, and Stob. xxviii. p. 128, Grot.
 Cf. Soph. Antig. 523. [Greek: outoi synechthein, alla symphilein ephyn].
 Dindorf condemns the whole of this speech of the messenger, as well as the two following lines. Few will perhaps be disposed to follow him, although the awkwardness of the passage may be admitted. Hermann considers that the hasty entrance of the messenger is signified by his commencing with half a line.
 There seems an intended allusion to the double sense of [Greek: proteleia], both as a marriage and sacrificial rite. See the Cambridge editor, and my note on AEsch. Agam. p. 102, n. 2, ed. Bohn.
 "Auspicare canistra, id quod proximum est." MUSGR.
 I think this is the meaning implied by [Greek: nympheusousa], as in vs. 885. [Greek: hin' agagois chairous' Achillei paida nympheusousa sen]. Alcest. 317. [Greek: ou gar se meter oute nympheusei pote]. The word seems to refer to the whole business of a mamma on this important occasion.
 The Cambridge editor on vs. 439, p. 109, well observes, "the actual arrival of Iphigenia having convinced Menelaus that her sacrifice could not any longer be avoided, he bethinks him of removing from his brother's mind the impression produced by their recent altercation; and knowing his open and unsuspicious temper, he feels that he may safely adopt a false position, and deprecate that of which he was at the same time most earnestly desirous."
 So Markland, but Hermann and the Cambridge editor prefer the old reading [Greek: metesti soi].
 This and the two following lines are condemned by Dindorf.
 Boeckh, Dindorf, and the Cambridge editor rightly explode these three lines, which are not even correct Greek.
 [Greek: lesomen], latebo faciens.
 [Greek: para] for [Greek: paron], ed. Camb.
 i.e. by the gift of Venus. For the sense, compare Hippol. 443.
 Read [Greek: diaphoroi de tropoi] with Monk, and [Greek: orthos] with Musgrave.
 But [Greek: paideuomenon] is better, with ed. Camb.
 I have partly followed Markland, partly Matthiae, in rendering this awkward passage. But there is much awkwardness of expression, and the notes of the Cambridge editor well deserve the attention of the student. [Greek: exallassousan charin] seems to refer to [Greek: metria charis] in vs. 555, and probably signifies that the grace of a reasonable affection leads to the equal grace of a clear perception, the mind being unblinded by vehement impulses of passion.
 i.e. quiet, domestic.
 [Greek: enon] is only Markland's conjecture. The whole passage is desperate.
 I read [Greek: myrioplethe] with ed. Camb. The pronoun [Greek: ho] I can not make out, but by supplying an impossible ellipse.
 The Cambridge editor rightly reads [Greek: iou, iou], as an exclamation of pleasure, not of pain, is required.
 Dindorf condemns this whole paragraph.
 The Cambridge editor thinks these two lines a childish interpolation. They certainly are childish enough, but the same objection applies to the whole passage.
 But read [Greek: hoi d'] with Dobree. The grooms are meant.
 Porson condemns these four lines, which are utterly destitute of sense or connection.
 These "precious" lines are even worse than the preceding, and rightly condemned by all.
 See Elmsl. on Soph. Oed. C. 273. The student must carefully observe the hidden train of thought pervading Agamemnon's replies.
 [Greek: ta Meneleo kaka] must mean the ills resulting from Menelaus, the mischiefs and toils to which his wife led, as in Soph. Antig. 2. [Greek: ton ap Oidipou kakon], "the ills brought about by the misfortunes or the curse of Oedipus." But I should almost prefer reading [Greek: leche] for [Greek: kaka], which would naturally refer to Helen.
 This line is metrically corrupt, but its emendation is very uncertain.
 I have endeavored to convey the play upon the words as closely as I could. Elmsley well suggests that the proper reading is [Greek: hestexeis] in vs. 675.
 [Greek: ophthenai korais], "non, ut hic, a viris et exercitu." BRODAEUS.
 Porson on Orest. 1090, remarks on that [Greek: ho kyrios] was the term applied to the father or guardian of the bride. We might therefore render, "Jove gave her away," etc.
 If this be the correct reading, we must take [Greek: kalos] ironically. But I think with Dindorf, that [Greek: kakos, anankaios de].
 This verse is condemned by the Cambridge editor.
 Barnes rightly remarked that [Greek: eixa] is the aorist of [Greek: aisso], conor, aggredior.
 These three lines are expunged by the Cambridge editor.
 I have expressed the sense of [Greek: e me trephein] (= [Greek: me echein gynaika]), rather than the literal meaning of the words.
 I must inform the reader that the latter portion of this chorus is extremely unsatisfactory in its present state. The Cambridge editor, who has well discussed its difficulties, thinks that [Greek: Pergamon] is wrong, and that [Greek: eryma] should be introduced from vs. 792, where it appears to be quite useless.
 I have ventured to read [Greek: dakryoen tanysas] with MSS. Pariss., omitting [Greek: eryma] with the Cambridge editor, by which the difficulty is removed. The same scholar remarks that [Greek: dakryoen] is used adverbially.
 There is obviously a defect in the structure, but I am scarcely pleased with the attempts made to supply it.
 Read [Greek: kai paidas] with Musgrave.
 But see ed. Camb.
 But see ed. Camb.
 But the Cambridge editor admirably amends, [Greek: eis mellonta sosei chronon], i.e. "it will be a long time before it preserves them," a hit at the self-importance of the old gentleman.
 I have little hesitation in reading [Greek: pelas moi] with Markland, in place of [Greek: gelai moi].
 There is much difficulty in this passage, and Markland appears to give it up in despair. Matthiae simply takes the first part as equivalent to [Greek: hypselophron esti], referring [Greek: metrios] to both verbs. The Cambridge editor takes [Greek: diazen] as an infinitive disjoined from the construction. Vss. 922 sq. are indebted to Mr. G. Burges for their present situation, having before been assigned to the chorus.
 I have closely followed the Cambridge editor.
 See the notes of the same scholar.
 Dindorf has rightly received Porson's successful emendation. See Tracts, p. 224, and the Cambridge editor.
 Read [Greek: sois te mellousin] with Markland.
 The Cambridge editor would omit vs. 1022. There is certainly a strange redundancy of meaning.
 Read [Greek: estasen] with Mark. Dind.
 So called, either because he was carried off by Jove while hunting in the promontory of Dardanus, or from his Trojan descent.
 I have adopted Tyrwhitt's view, considering the words inclosed in inverted commas as the actual words of the epithalamium. See Musgr. and ed. Camb. Hermann is strangely out of his reckoning.
 Read, however, [Greek: Nereidon] with Heath, "first of the Nereids."
 The Cambridge editor would read [Greek: nymphokomoi], Reiske [Greek: nymphokomon]. There is much difficulty in the whole of this last part of the chorus.
 Such is Hermann's explanation, but [Greek: bebekotos] can not bear the sense. The Cambridge editor suspects that these five lines are a forgery.
 The Cambridge editor rightly, I think, condemns this line as the addition of some one "who thought that something more was wanting to comprise all the complaints of the speaker." I do not think the sense or construction is benefited by their existence.
 "Verum astus hic astu vacat." ERASMUS.
 Dindorf has apparently done wrong in admitting [Greek: prosoudisas], but I have some doubt about every other reading yet proposed.
 See Camb. ed., who suspects interpolation.
 Cf. Lucret. i. 94. "Nec miserae prodesse in tali tempore quibat, Quod patrio princeps donarat nomine regum." AEsch. Ag. 242 sqq.
 The Cambridge editor clearly shows that [Greek: moi] is the true reading, as in vs. 54, [Greek: to pragma d' aporos eiche Tyndareoi patri], and 370.
 There is much doubt about the reading of this part of the chorus. See Dind. and ed. Camb.
 I have partly followed Abresch in translating these lines, but I do not advise the reader to rest satisfied with my translation. A reference to the notes of the elegant scholar, to whom we owe the Cambridge edition of this play, will, I trust, show that I have done as much as can well be done with such corrupted lines.
 Achilles is supposed to lay his hand on his sword. See however ed. Camb.
 Obviously a spurious line.
 I have punctuated with ed. Camb.
 See ed. Camb.
 [Greek: euphemesate] here governs two distinct accusatives.
 The Cambridge editor here takes notice of Aristotle's charge of inconsistency, [Greek: hoti ouden eoiken he hiketeuousa] [Iphigenia] [Greek: tei hysterai]. He well remarks, that Iphigenia at first naturally gives way before the suddenness of the announcement of her fate, but that when she collects her feelings, her natural nobleness prevails.
 Cf. Lucret. i. 88. "Cui simul infula virgineos circumdata comtus, Ex utraque pari malarum parte profusa est."
 Read [Greek: pagas] with Reiske, Dind. ed. Camb. There is much corruption and awkwardness in the following verses of this ode.
 On the sense of [Greek: memone] see ed. Camb., who would exclude [Greek: di' emon onoma].
 Cf. Soph. Ant. 806 sqq. The whole of this passage has been admirably illustrated by the Cambridge editor.
 There is much awkwardness about this epithet [Greek: patroiai]. One would expect a clearer reference to Agamemnon. I scarcely can suppose it correct, although I do not quite see my way in the Cambridge editor's readings.
 Porson, Praef. ad Hec. p. xxi., and the Cambridge editor (p. 228 sqq.) have concurred in fully condemning the whole of this last scene. It is certain that in the time of AElian something different must have been in existence, and equally certain that the whole abounds in repetitions and inconsistencies, that seem to point either to spuriousness, or, at least, to the existence of interpolations of a serious character. In this latter opinion Matthiae and Dindorf agree.
 An allusion to the celebrated picture of Timanthes. See Barnes.
 I have done my best with this passage, following Matthiae's explanation, which, however, I do not perfectly understand. If vs. 1567 were away, we should be less at a loss, but the same may be said of the whole scene.
* * * * * *
IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS.
* * * *
IPHIGENIA. ORESTES. PYLADES. HERDSMAN. THOAS. MESSENGER. MINERVA. CHORUS OF GRECIAN CAPTIVE WOMEN.
* * * * *
* * * *
Orestes, coming into Tauri in Scythia, in company with Pylades, had been commanded to bear away the image of Diana, after which he was to meet with a respite from the avenging Erinnyes of his mother. His sister Iphigenia, who had been carried away by Diana from Aulis, when on the point of being sacrificed by her father, chances to be expiating a dream that led her to suppose Orestes dead, when a herdsman announces to her the arrival and detection of two strangers, whom she is bound by her office to sacrifice to Diana. On meeting, a mutual discovery takes place, and they plot their escape. Iphigenia imposes on the superstitious fears of Thoas, and, removing them to the sea-coast, they are on the point of making their escape together, when they are surprised, and subsequently detained and driven back by stress of weather. Thoas is about to pursue them, when Minerva appears, and restrains him from doing so, at the same time procuring liberty of return for the Grecian captives who form the chorus.
* * * * *
IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS.
* * * *
Pelops, the son of Tantalus, setting out to Pisa with his swift steeds, weds the daughter of Oenomaus, from whom sprang Atreus; and from Atreus his sons, Menelaus and Agamemnon, from which [latter] I was born, Iphigenia, child of [Clytaemnestra,] daughter of Tyndarus, whom my father, as he imagined, sacrificed to Diana on account of Helen, near the eddies, which Euripus continually whirls to and fro, upturning the dark blue sea with frequent blasts, in the famed recesses of Aulis. For here indeed king Agamemnon drew together a Grecian armament of a thousand ships, desiring that the Greeks might take the glorious prize of victory over Troy, and avenge the outraged nuptials of Helen, for the gratification of Menelaus. But, there being great difficulty of sailing, and meeting with no winds, he came to [the consideration of] the omens of burnt sacrifices, and Calchas speaks thus. O thou who rulest over this Grecian expedition, Agamemnon, thou wilt not lead forth thy ships from the ports of this land, before Diana shall receive thy daughter Iphigenia as a victim; for thou didst vow to sacrifice to the light-bearing Goddess whatsoever the year should bring forth most beautiful. Now your wife Clytaemnestra has brought forth a daughter in your house, referring to me the title of the most beautiful, whom thou must needs sacrifice. And so, by the arts of Ulysses, they drew me from my mother under pretense of being wedded to Achilles. But I wretched coming to Aulis, being seized and raised aloft above the pyre, would have been slain by the sword; but Diana, giving to the Greeks a stag in my stead, stole me away, and, sending me through the clear ether, she settled me in this land of the Tauri, where barbarian Thoas rules the land, o'er barbarians, [Thoas,] who guiding his foot swift as the pinion, has arrived at this epithet [of Thoas, i.e. the swift] on account of his fleetness of foot. And she places me in this house as priestess, since which time the Goddess Diana is wont to be pleased with such rites as these, the name of which alone is fair. But, for the rest, I am silent, fearing the Goddess. For I sacrifice even as before was the custom in the city, whatever Grecian man comes to this land. I crop the hair, indeed, but the slaying that may not be told is the care of others within these shrines. But the new visions which the [past] night hath brought with it, I will tell to the sky, if indeed this be any remedy. I seemed in my sleep, removed from this land, to be dwelling in Argos, and to slumber in my virgin chamber, but the surface of the earth [appeared] to be shaken with a movement, and I fled, and standing without beheld the coping of the house giving way, and all the roof falling stricken to the ground from the high supports. And one pillar alone, as it seemed to me, was left of my ancestral house, and from its capital it seemed to stream down yellow locks, and to receive a human voice, and I, cherishing this man-slaying office which I hold, weeping [began] to besprinkle it, as though about to be slain. But I thus interpret my dream. Orestes is dead, whose rites I was beginning. For male children are the pillars of the house, and those whom my lustral waters sprinkle die. Nor yet can I connect the dream with my friends, for Strophius had no son, when I was to have died. Now, therefore, I being present, will to my absent brother offer the rites of the dead—for this I can do—in company with the attendants whom the king gave to me, Grecian women. But from some cause they are not yet present. I will go within the home wherein I dwell, these shrines of the Goddess.
ORESTES. Look out! Watch, lest there be any mortal in the way.
PYLADES. I am looking out, and keeping watch, turning my eyes every where.
OR. Pylades, does it seem to you that this is the temple of the Goddess, whither we have directed our ship through the seas from Argos?
PYL. It does, Orestes, and must seem the same to thee.
OR. And the altar where Grecian blood is shed?
PYL. At least it has its pinnacles tawny with blood.
OR. And under the pinnacles themselves do you behold the spoils?
PYL. The spoils, forsooth, of slain strangers.
OR. But it behooves one, turning one's eye around, to keep a careful watch. O Phoebus, wherefore hast thou again led me into this snare by your prophecies, when I had avenged the blood of my father by slaying my mother? But by successive attacks of the Furies was I driven an exile, an outcast from the land, and fulfilled many diverse bending courses. But coming [to thy oracle] I required of thee how I might arrive at an end of the madness that drove me on, and of my toils [which I had labored through, wandering over Greece.] But thou didst answer that I must come to the confines of the Tauric territory, where thy sister Diana possesses altars, and must take the image of the Goddess, which they here say fell from heaven into these shrines; and that taking it either by stratagem or by some stroke of fortune, having gone through the risk, I should give it to the land of the Athenians—but no further directions were given—and that having done this, I should have a respite from my toils. But I am come hither, persuaded by thy words, to an unknown and inhospitable land. I ask you, then, Pylades, for you are a sharer with me in this toil, what shall we do? For thou beholdest the lofty battlements of the walls. Shall we proceed to the scaling of the walls? How then should we escape notice [if we did so?] Or shall we open the brass-wrought fastenings of the bolts? of which things we know nothing. But if we are caught opening the gates and contriving an entrance, we shall die. But before we die, let us flee to the temple, whither we lately sailed.
PYL. To fly is unendurable, nor are we accustomed [to do so,] and we must not make light of the oracle of the God. But quitting the temple, let us hide our bodies in the caves, which the dark sea splashes with its waters, far away from the city, lest any one beholding the bark, inform the rulers, and we be straightway seized by force. But when the eye of dim night shall come, we must venture, bring all devices to bear, to seize the sculptured image from the temple. But observe the eaves [of the roof,] where there is an empty space between the triglyphs in which you may let yourself down. For good men dare encounter toils, but the cowardly are of no account any where. We have not indeed come a long distance with our oars, so as to return again from the goal.
OR. But one must follow your advice, for you speak well. We must go whithersoever in this land we can conceal our bodies, and lie hid. For the [will] of the God will not be the cause of his oracle falling useless. We must venture; for no toil has an excuse for young men.
[ORESTES and PYLADES retire aside.]
CHORUS. Keep silence, O ye that inhabit the twain rocks of the Euxine that face each other. O Dictynna, mountain daughter of Latona, to thy court, the gold-decked pinnacles of temples with fine columns, I, servant to the hallowed guardian of the key, conduct my pious virgin foot, changing [for my present habitation] the towers and walls of Greece with its noble steeds, and Europe with its fields abounding in trees, the dwelling of my ancestral home. I am come. What new matter? What anxious care hast thou? Wherefore hast thou led me, led me to the shrines, O daughter of him who came to the walls of Troy with the glorious fleet, with thousand sail, ten thousand spears of the renowned Atrides?
IPHIGENIA. O attendants mine, in what moans of bitter lamentation do I dwell, in the songs of a songless strain unfit for the lyre, alas! alas! in funereal griefs for the ills which befall me, bemoaning my brother, what a vision have I seen in the night whose darkness has passed away! I am undone, undone. No more is my father's house, ah me! no more is our race. Alas! alas! for the toils in Argos! Alas! thou deity, who hast now robbed me of my only brother, sending him to Hades, to whom I am about to pour forth on the earth's surface these libations and this bowl for the departed, and streams from the mountain heifer, and the wine draughts of Bacchus, and the work of the swarthy bees, which are the wonted peace-offerings to the departed. O germ of Agamemnon beneath the earth, to thee as dead do I send these offerings. And do thou receive them, for not before [thine own] tomb do I offer my auburn locks, my tears. For far away am I journeyed from thy country and mine, where, as opinion goes, I wretched lie slaughtered.
CHOR. A respondent strain and an Asiatic hymn of barbarian wailing will I peal forth to thee, my mistress, the song of mourning which, delighting the dead, Hades hymns in measure apart from Paeans. Alas! the light of the sceptre in the Atrides' house is faded away. Alas! alas for my ancestral home! And what government of prosperous kings will there be in Argos? * * * * And labor upon labor comes on * * * *  with his winged mares driven around. But the sun, changing from its proper place, [laid aside] its eye of light. And upon other houses woe has come, because of the golden lamb, murder upon murder, and pang upon pang, whence the avenging Fury of those sons slain of old comes upon the houses of the sons of Tantalus, and some deity hastens unkindly things against thee.
IPH. From the beginning the demon of my mother's zone was hostile to me, and from that night in which the Fates hastened the pangs of childbirth * * * * whom, the first-born germ the wretched daughter of Leda, (Clytaemnestra,) wooed from among the Greeks brought forth, and trained up as a victim to a father's sin, a joyless sacrifice, a votive offering. But in a horse-chariot they brought me to the sands of Aulis, a bride, alas! unhappy bride to the son of Nereus' daughter, alas! And now a stranger I dwell in an unpleasant home on the inhospitable sea, unwedded, childless, without city, without a friend, not chanting Juno in Argos, nor in the sweetly humming loom adorning with the shuttle the image of Athenian Pallas and of the Titans, but imbruing altars with the shed blood of strangers, a pest unsuited to the harp, [of strangers] sighing forth a piteous cry, and shedding a piteous tear. And now indeed forgetfulness of these matters [comes upon] me, but now I mourn my brother dead in Argos, whom I left yet an infant at the breast, yet young, yet a germ in his mother's arms and on her bosom, Orestes [the future] holder of the sceptre in Argos.
CHOR. But hither comes a herdsman, leaving the sea-coast, about to tell thee some new thing.
HERDSMAN. Daughter of Agamemnon and child of Clytaemnestra, hear thou from me a new announcement.
IPH. And what is there astonishing in the present report?
HERDS. Two youths are come into this land, to the dark-blue Symplegades, fleeing into a ship, a grateful sacrifice and offering to Diana. But you can not use too much haste in making ready the lustral waters and the consecrations.
IPH. Of what country? of what land do the strangers bear the name?
HERDS. Greeks, this one thing I know, and nothing further.
IPH. Hast thou not heard the name of the strangers, so as to tell it?
HERDS. One of them was styled Pylades by the other.
IPH. But what was the name of the yoke-fellow of this stranger?
HERDS. No one knows this. For we heard it not.
IPH. But how saw ye them, and chanced to take them?
HERDS. Upon the furthest breakers of the inhospitable sea.
IPH. And what had herdsmen to do with the sea?
HERDS. We came to lave our steers in the dew of the sea.
IPH. Go back again to this point—how did ye catch them, and by what means, for I would fain know this? For they are come after a long season, nor has the altar of the Goddess yet been crimsoned with Grecian blood.
HERDS. After we woodland herdsmen had brought our cattle down to the sea that flows between the Symplegades, there is a certain hollow cave, broken by the frequent lashing of the waves, a retreat for those who hunt for the purple fish. Here some herdsman among us beheld two youths, and he retired back, piloting his step on tiptoe, and said: See ye not? these who sit here are some divine powers. And one of us, being religiously given, uplifted his hand, and addressed them, as he beheld: O son of Leucothea, guardian of ships, Palaemon our lord, be propitious to us, whether indeed ye be the twin sons of Jove (Castor and Pollux) who sit upon our shores, or the image of Nereus, who begot the noble chorus of the fifty Nereids. But another vain one, bold in his lawlessness, scoffed at these prayers, and said that they were shipwrecked seamen who sat upon the cleft through fear of the law, hearing that we here sacrifice strangers. And to most of us he seemed to speak well, and [we resolved] to hunt for the accustomed victims for the Goddess. But meanwhile one of the strangers leaving the rock, stood still, and shook his head up and down, and groaned, with his very fingers quaking, wandering with ravings, and shouts with voice like that of hunter, "Pylades, dost thou behold this? Dost not behold this snake of Hades, how she would fain slay me, armed against me with horrid vipers? And she breathing from beneath her garments fire and slaughter, rows with her wings, bearing my mother in her arms, that she may cast upon me this rocky mass. Alas! she will slay me. Whither shall I fly?" And one beheld not the same form of countenance, but he uttered in turn the bellowings of calves and howls of dogs, which imitations [of wild beasts] they say the Furies utter. But we flinching, as though about to die, sat mute; and he drawing a sword with his hand, rushing among the calves, lion-like, strikes them on the flank with the steel, driving it into their sides, fancying that he was thus avenging himself on the Fury Goddesses, till that a gory foam was dashed up from the sea. Meanwhile, each one of us, as he beheld the herds being slain and ravaged, armed himself, and inflating the conch shells and assembling the inhabitants—for we thought that herdsmen were weak to fight against well-trained and youthful strangers. And a large number of us was assembled in a short time. But the stranger, released from the attack of madness, drops down, with his beard befouled with foam. But when we saw him fallen opportunely [for us,] each man did his part, with stones, with blows. But the other of the strangers wiped away the foam, and tended his mouth, and spread over him the well-woven texture of his garments, guarding well the coming wounds, and aiding his friend with tender offices. But when the stranger returning to his senses leaped up, he perceived that a hostile tempest and present calamity was close upon them, and he groaned aloud. But we ceased not hurling rocks, each standing in a different place. But then indeed we heard a dread exhortation, "Pylades, we shall die, but that we die most gloriously! Follow me, drawing thy sword in hand." But when we saw the twain swords of the enemy brandished, in flight we filled the woods about the crag. But if one fled, others pressing on pelted them; and if they drove these away, again the party who had just yielded aimed at them with rocks. But it was incredible, for out of innumerable hands no one succeeded in hitting these victims to the Goddess. And we with difficulty, I will not say overcome them by force, but taking them in a circle, beat their swords out of their hands with stones, and they dropped their knees to earth [overcome] with toil. And we brought them to the king of this land, but he, when he beheld them, sent them as quickly as possible to thee for lustral waters and sacrifice. But do thou, O virgin, wish that such strangers may be here as victims, and if thou slayest these strangers, Hellas will atone for thy [intended] murder, paying the penalty of the sacrifice at Aulis.
CHOR. Thou hast told wondrous things concerning him who has appeared, whosoever he be that has come to the inhospitable sea from the Grecian earth.
IPH. Be it so. Do thou go and bring the strangers, but I will take care respecting the matters here. O hapless heart, that once wast mild and full of pity toward strangers, awarding the tear to those of thine own land, when thou didst receive Grecian men into thine hands. But now, because of the dreams by which I am driven wild, thinking that Orestes no longer beholds the sun, ye will find me ill disposed, whoever ye be that come. For this is true, I perceive it, my friends, for the unhappy who themselves fare ill have no good feelings toward those more fortunate. But neither has any wind sent by Jove ever come [hither,] nor ship, which could have brought hither Helen, who destroyed me, and Menelaus, in order that I might be avenged on them, placing an Aulis here to the account of the one there, where the sons of Danaus seized, and would have slain me like as a calf, and the father who begat me was the priest. Ah me! for I can not forget the ills of that time, how oft I stretched out my hands to his beard, and hanging on the knees of him who gave me life, spake words like these: "O father, basely am I, basely am I wedded at thine hands. But my mother, while thou art slaying me, and her Argive ladies are hymning my wedding with their nuptial songs, and all the house resounds with the flute, while I perish by thy hands. Hades in truth was Achilles, not the son of Peleus, whom thou didst name as my husband, and in the chariot didst pilot me by craft unto a bloody wedding." But I, casting mine eye through my slender woven veil, neither took up with mine hands my brother who is now dead, nor joined my lips to my sister's, through modesty, as departing to the home of Peleus; and many a salutation I deferred, as though about to come again to Argos. Oh wretched one, if thou hast died! from what glorious state, Orestes, and from how envied a sire's fortune art thou fallen! But I reproach the devices of the Goddess, who, if any one work the death of a man, or touch with hands a woman newly delivered, or a corpse, restrains him from her altars, as deeming him impure, but yet herself takes pleasure in man-slaying sacrifices. It can not be that the consort of Jove, Latona, hath brought forth so much ignorance. I even disbelieve the banquets of Tantalus set before the Gods, [as that they] should be pleased with feeding on a boy. But I deem that those in this land, being themselves man-slayers, charge the Goddess with their own baseness, for I think not that any one of the Gods is bad.
CHOR. Ye dark blue, dark blue meetings of the sea, which Io, hurried along by the brize, once passed through to the Euxine wave, having changed the territory of Asia for Europe,—who were they who left fair-watered Eurotas, flourishing in reeds, or the sacred founts of Dirce, and came, and came to the inhospitable land, where the daughter of Jove bedews her altars and column-girt temples with human blood? Of a truth by the surge-dashing oars of fir, worked on both sides, they sailed in a nautical carriage o'er the ocean waves, striving in the emulation after loved wealth in their houses. For darling hope is in dangers insatiate among men, who bear off the weight of riches, wandering in vain speculation on the wave and o'er barbarian cities. But to some there is a mind immoderate after riches, to others they come unsought. How did they pass through the rocks that run together, the ne'er resting beaches of Phineus, [and] the marine shore, running o'er the surge of Amphitrite,—where the choruses of the fifty daughters of Nereus entwine in the dance,—[although] with breezes that fill the sails, the creaking rudders resting at the poop, with southern gales or the breezes of Zephyr, to the bird-haunted land, the white beach, the glorious race-course of Achilles, near the Euxine Sea. Would that, according to my mistress' prayers, Helen, the dear daughter of Leda, might sometime chance to come, quitting the city of Troy, that, having been drenched about the head with the blood-stained lustral dews, she might die by my mistress' hand, paying in turn an equal penalty [for her death.] Most joyfully then would we receive this news, if any one came sailing from the Grecian land, to make the toils of my hapless slavery to cease. And would that in my dreams I might tread in mine home and ancestral city, enjoying the hymns of delight, a joy shared with the prosperous. But hither they come, bound as to their two hands with chains, a new sacrifice for the Goddess. Be silent, my friends, for these first-fruits of the Greeks approach the temples, nor has the herdsman told a false tale. O reverend Goddess, if the city performs these things agreeably to thee, receive the sacrifice which, not hallowed among the Greeks, the custom of this place presents as a public offering.
IPH. Be it so. I must first take care that the rites of the Goddess are as they should be. Let go the hands of the strangers, that being consecrated they may no longer be in bonds. And, going within the temple, make ready the things which are necessary and usual on these occasions. Alas! Who is the mother who once bore you? And who your father, and your sister, if there be any born? Of what a pair of youths deprived will she be brotherless! For all the dispensations of the Gods creep into obscurity, and no one [absent] knows misfortune, for fortune leads astray to what is hardly known. Whence come ye, O unhappy strangers? After how long a time have ye sailed to this land, and ye will be a long time from your home, ever among the shades!
OR. Why mournest thou thus, and teasest us concerning our future ills, whoever thou art, O lady? In naught do I deem him wise, who, when about to die, with bewailings seeks to overcome the fear of death, nor him who deplores death now near at hand, when he has no hope of safety, in that he joins two ills instead of one, both incurs the charge of folly, and dies none the less. But one must needs let fortune take its course. But mourn us not, for we know and are acquainted with the sacrificial rites of this place.
IPH. Which of ye twain here is named Pylades? This I would fain know first.
OR. This man, if indeed 'tis any pleasure for thee to know this.
IPH. Born citizen of what Grecian state?
OR. And what wouldst thou gain by knowing this, lady?
IPH. Are ye brothers from one mother?
OR. In friendship we are, but we are not related, lady.
IPH. But what name did the father who begot thee give to thee?
OR. In truth we might be styled the unhappy.
IPH. I ask not this. Leave this to fortune.
OR. Dying nameless, I should not be mocked.
IPH. Wherefore dost grudge this, and art thus proud?
OR. My body thou shalt sacrifice, not my name.
IPH. Nor wilt thou tell me which is thy city?
OR. No. For thou seekest a thing of no profit, seeing I am to die.
IPH. But what hinders thee from granting me this favor?
OR. I boast renowned Argos for my country.
IPH. In truth, by the Gods I ask thee, stranger, art thou thence born?
OR. From Mycenae, that was once prosperous.
IPH. And hast thou set out a wanderer from thy country, or by what hap?
OR. I flee in a certain wise unwilling, willingly.
IPH. Wouldst thou tell me one thing that I wish?
OR. That something, forsooth, may be added to my misfortune.
IPH. And truly thou hast come desired by me, in coming from Argos.
OR. Not by myself, at all events; but if by thee, do thou enjoy it.
IPH. Perchance thou knowest Troy, the fame of which is every where.
OR. Ay, would that I never had, not even seeing it in a dream!
IPH. They say that it is now no more, and has fallen by the spear.
OR. And so it is, nor have you heard what is not the case.
IPH. And is Helen come back to the house of Menelaus?
OR. She is, ay, coming unluckily to one of mine.
IPH. And where is she? For she has incurred an old debt of evil with me also.
OR. She dwells in Sparta with her former consort.
IPH. O hateful pest among the Greeks, not to me only!
OR. I also have received some fruits of her nuptials.
IPH. And did the return of the Greeks take place, as is reported?
OR. How dost thou question me, embracing all matters at once!
IPH. For I wish to obtain this before that thou diest.
OR. Examine me, since thou hast this longing, and I will speak.
IPH. Has a certain seer named Calchas returned from Troy?
OR. He perished, as the story ran, at Mycenae.
IPH. O revered Goddess, how well it is! And how fares the son of Laertes?
OR. He has not yet returned to his home, but he is alive, as report goes.
IPH. May he perish, never obtaining a return to his country!
OR. Invoke nothing—all his affairs are in a sickly state.
IPH. But is the son of Thetis, the daughter of Nereus, yet alive?
OR. He is not. In vain he held his wedding in Aulis.
IPH. A crafty [wedding] it was, as those who have suffered say.
OR. Who canst thou be? How well dost ken the affairs of Greece!
IPH. I am from thence. While yet a child I was undone.
OR. With reason thou desirest to know the affairs there, O lady.
IPH. But how [fares] the general, who they say is prosperous.
OR. Who? For he whom I know is not of the fortunate.
IPH. A certain king Agamemnon was called the son of Atreus.
OR. I know not—cease from these words, O lady.
IPH. Nay, by the Gods, but speak, that I may be rejoiced, O stranger.
OR. The wretched one is dead, and furthermore hath ruined one.
IPH. Is dead? By what mishap? O wretched me!
OR. But why dost mourn this? Was he a relation of thine?
IPH. I bemoan his former prosperity.
OR. [Ay, well mayest thou,] for he has fallen, slain shamefully by a woman.
IPH. O all grievous she that slew and he that fell!
OR. Cease now at least, nor question further.
IPH. Thus much at least, does the wife of the unhappy man live?
OR. She is no more. The son she brought forth, he slew her.
IPH. O house all troubled! with what intent, then?
OR. Taking satisfaction on her for the death of his father.
IPH. Alas! how well he executed an evil act of justice.
OR. But, though just, he hath not good fortune from the Gods.
IPH. But does Agamemnon leave any other child in his house?
OR. He has left a single virgin [daughter,] Electra.
IPH. What! Is there no report of his sacrificed daughter?
OR. None indeed, save that being dead she beholds not the light.
IPH. Hapless she, and the father who slew her!
OR. She perished, a thankless offering because of a bad woman.
IPH. But is the son of the deceased father at Argos?
OR. He, wretched man, is nowhere and every where.
IPH. Away, vain dreams, ye were then of naught!
OR. Nor are the Gods who are called wise any less false than winged dreams. There is much inconsistency both among the Gods and among mortals. But one thing alone is left, when a man not being foolish, persuaded by the words of seers, has perished, as he hath perished in man's knowledge.
CHOR. Alas! alas! But what of us and our fathers? Are they, or are they not in being, who can tell?
IPH. Hear me, for I am come to a certain discourse, meditating what is at once profitable for you and me. But that which is well is chiefly produced thus, when the same matter pleases all. Would ye be willing, if I were to save you, to go to Argos, and bear a message for me to my friends there, and carry a letter, which a certain captive wrote, pitying me, nor deeming my hand that of a murderess, but that he died through custom, as the Goddess sanctioned such things as just? For I had no one who would go and bear the news back to Argos, and who, being preserved, would send my letters to some one of my friends. But do thou, for thou art, as thou seemest, of no ignoble birth, and knowest Mycenae and the persons I wish, do thou, I say, be saved, receiving no dishonorable reward, your safety for the sake of trifling letters. But let this man, since the city compels it, be a sacrifice to the Goddess, apart from thee.
OR. Well hast thou spoken the rest, save one thing, O stranger lady, for 'tis a heavy weight upon me that this man should be slain. For I was steersman of the vessel to these ills, but he is a fellow-sailor because of mine own troubles. In no wise then is it right that I should do thee a favor to his destruction, and myself escape from ills. But let it be thus. Give him the letter, for he will send it to Argos, so as to be well for thee, but let him that will slay me. Base is the man, who, casting his friends into calamity, himself is saved. But this man is a friend, who I fain should see the light no less that myself.
IPH. O noblest spirit, how art thou sprung from some generous root, thou truly a friend to thy friends! Such might he be who is left of my brothers! For in good truth, strangers, I am not brotherless, save that I behold him not. But since thou willest thus, let us send this man bearing the letter, but thou wilt die, and some great desire of this chances to possess thee?
OR. But who will sacrifice me, and dare this dreadful deed?
IPH. I; for I have this sacrificial duty from the Goddess.
OR. Unenviable indeed. O damsel, and unblest.
IPH. But we lie under necessity, which one must beware.
OR. Thyself, a female, sacrificing males with the sword?
IPH. Not so; but I shall lave around thy head with the lustral stream.
OR. But who is the slayer, if I may ask this?
IPH. Within the house are they whose office is this.
OR. And what manner of tomb will receive me, when I die?
IPH. The holy flame within, and the dark chasm of the rock.
OR. Alas! Would that a sister's hand might lay me out.
IPH. A vain prayer hast thou uttered, whoever thou art, O stranger, for she dwells far from this barbarian land. Nevertheless, since thou art an Argive, I will not fail to do thee kindness in what is possible. For on thy tomb will I place much adornment, and with the tawny oil will I cause thy body to be soon consumed, and on thy pyre will I pour the flower-sucked riches of the swarthy bee. But I will go and fetch the letter from the shrines of the Goddess. But do thou not bear ill will against me. Guard them, ye servants, [but] without fetters. Perchance I shall send unexpected tidings to some one of my friends at Argos, whom I chiefly love, and the letter, telling to him that she lives whom he thinks dead, will announce a faithful pleasure.
CHOR. I deplore thee now destined to the gory streams of the lustral waters.
OR. 'Tis piteous, truly; but fare ye well, stranger ladies.
CHOR. But thee, (to Pylades) O youth, we honor for thy happy fortune, that at some time thou wilt return to thy country.
PYL. Not to be coveted by friends, when friends are to die.
CHOR. O mournful journeying! Alas! alas! thou art undone. Woe! woe! which is the [victim] to be? For still my mind resolves twain doubtful [ills,] whether with groans I shall bemoan thee (to Orestes) or thee (to Pylades) first.
OR. Pylades, hast thou, by the Gods, experienced the same feeling as myself?
PYL. I know not. Thou askest me unable to say.
OR. Who is this damsel? With what a Grecian spirit she asked us concerning the toils in Troy, and the return of the Greeks, and Calchas wise in augury, and about Achilles, and how she pitied wretched Agamemnon, and asked me of his wife and children. This stranger lady is some Greek by race; for otherwise she never would have been sending a letter and making these inquiries, as sharing a common weal in the well-doing of Argos.
PYL. Thou hast outstripped me a little, but thou outstrippest me in saying the same things, save in one respect—for all, with whom there is any communication, know the fate of the king. But I was considering another subject.
OR. What? laying it down in common, you will better understand.
PYL. 'Tis base that I should behold the light, while you perish; and, having sailed with you, with you I must needs die also. For I shall incur the imputation of both cowardice and baseness in Argos and the Phocian land with its many dells, and I shall seem to the many, for the many are evil, to have arrived alone in safety to mine home, having deserted thee, or even to have murdered thee, taking advantage of the sickly state of thine house, and to have devised thy fate for the sake of reigning, in order that, forsooth, I might wed thy sister as an heiress. These things, then, I dread, and hold in shame, and it shall not be but I will breathe my last with thee, be slain, and have my body burned with thee, being a friend, and dreading reproach.
OR. Speak words of better omen. I must needs bear my troubles, but when I may [endure] one single trouble, I will not endure twain. For what thou callest bitter and reproachful, that is my portion, if I cause thee to be slain who hast shared my toils. For, as far as I am concerned, it stands not badly with me, faring as I fare at the hands of the Gods, to end my life. But thou art prosperous, and hast a home pure, not sickening, but I [have] one impious and unhappy. And living thou mayest raise children from my sister, whom I gave thee to have as a wife, and my name might exist, nor would my ancestral house be ever blotted out. But go, live, and dwell in my father's house; and when thou comest to Greece and chivalrous Argos, by thy right hand, I commit to thee this charge. Heap up a tomb, and place upon it remembrances of me, and let my sister offer tears and her shorn locks upon my sepulchre. And tell how I died by an Argive woman's hand, sacrificed as an offering by the altar's side. And do thou never desert my sister, seeing my father's connections and home bereaved. And fare thee well! for I have found thee best among my friends. Oh thou who hast been my fellow-huntsman, my mate! Oh thou who hast borne the weight of many of my sorrows! But Phoebus, prophet though he be, has deceived me. For, artfully devising, he has driven me as far as possible from Greece, in shame of his former prophecies. To whom I, yielding up mine all, and obeying his words, having slain my mother, myself perish in turn.
PYL. Thou shalt have a tomb, and never will I, hapless one, betray thy sister's bed, since I shall hold thee more a friend dead than living. But the oracle of the God has never yet wronged thee, although thou art indeed on the very verge of death. But excessive mischance is very wont, is very wont to present changes, when the matter so falls.
OR. Be silent—the words of Phoebus avail me naught, for the lady is coming hither without the temple.
IPH. Depart ye, and go and make ready the things within for those who superintend the sacrifice. These, O stranger, are the many-folded inclosures of the letter, but hear thou what I further wish. No man is the same in trouble, and when he changes from fear into confidence. But I fear, lest he having got away from this land, will deem my letter of no account, who is about to bear this letter to Argos.
OR. What wouldst thou? Concerning what art thou disturbed?
IPH. Let him make me oath that he will ferry these writings to Argos, to those friends to whom I wish to send them.
OR. Wilt thou in turn make the same assertion to him?
IPH. That I will do, or will not do what thing? say.
OR. That you will release him from this barbarian land, not dying.
IPH. Thou sayest justly; for how could he bear the message?
OR. But will the ruler also grant this?
IPH. Yea. I will persuade him, and will myself embark him on the ship's hull.
OR. Swear, but do thou commence such oath as is holy.
IPH. Thou must say "I will give this [letter] to my friends."
PYL. I will give this letter to thy friends.
IPH. And I will send thee safe beyond the Cyanean rocks.
PYL. Whom of the Gods dost thou call to witness of thine oath in these words?
IPH. Diana, in whose temple I hold office.
PYL. But I [call upon] the king of heaven, hallowed Jove.
IPH. But if, deserting thine oath, thou shouldst wrong me—
PYL. May I not return? But thou, if thou savest me not—
IPH. May I never living set footprint in Argos.
PYL. Hear now then a matter which we have passed by.
IPH. There will be opportunity hereafter, if matters stand aright.
PYL. Grant me this one exception. If the vessel suffer any harm, and the letter be lost in the storm, together with the goods, and I save my person only, that this mine oath be no longer valid.
IPH. Knowest thou what I will do? for the many things contained in the folds of the letter bear opportunity for many things. I will tell you in words all that you are to convey to my friends, for this plan is safe. If indeed thou preservest the letter, it will itself silently tell the things written, but if these letters be lost at sea, saving thy body, thou wilt preserve my message.
PYL. Thou hast spoken well on behalf of the Gods and of myself. But tell me to whom at Argos I must needs bear these epistles, and what hearing from thee, I must tell.
IPH. Bear word to Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, (reading) "she that was sacrificed at Aulis gives this commission, Iphigenia alive, but no longer alive as far as those in Argos are concerned."
OR. But where is she? Does she come back again having died?
IPH. She, whom you see. Do not confuse me with speaking. (Continues reading) "Bear me to Argos, my brother, before I die, remove me from this barbarian land and the sacrifices of the Goddess, in which I have the office of slaying strangers."
OR. Pylades, what shall I say? where shall we be found to be?
IPH. (still reading) "Or I will be a cause of curses upon thine house, Orestes," (with great stress upon the name and turning to Pylades,) "that thou, twice hearing the name, mayest know it."
PYL. O Gods!
IPH. Why callest thou upon the Gods in matters that are mine?
PYL. 'Tis nothing. Go on. I was wandering to another subject. Perchance, inquiring of thee, I shall arrive at things incredible.
IPH. (continues reading) "Say that the Goddess Diana saved me, giving in exchange for me a hind, which my father sacrificed, thinking that it was upon me that he laid the sharp sword, and she placed me to dwell in this land." This is the burden of my message, these are the words written in my letter.
PYL. O thou who hast secured me in easy oaths, and hast sworn things fairest, I will not delay much time, but I will firmly accomplish the oath I have sworn. Behold, I bear and deliver to thee a letter, O Orestes, from this thy sister.
OR. I receive it. And letting go the opening of the letter, I will first seize a delight not in words (attempts to embrace her). O dearest sister mine, in amazement, yet nevertheless embracing thee with a doubting arm, I go to a source of delight, hearing things marvelous to me.
CHOR. Stranger, thou dost not rightly pollute the servant of the Goddess, casting thine arm around her garments that should ne'er be touched.
OR. O fellow-sister born of one sire, Agamemnon, turn not from me, possessing a brother whom you never thought to possess.
IPH. I [possess] thee my brother? Wilt not cease speaking? Both Argos and Nauplia are frequented by him.
OR. Unhappy one! thy brother is not there.
IPH. But did the Lacedaemonian daughter of Tyndarus beget thee?
OR. Ay, to the grandson of Pelops, whence I am sprung.
IPH. What sayest thou? Hast thou any proof of this for me?
OR. I have. Ask something relative to my ancestral home.
IPH. Thou must needs then speak, and I learn.
OR. I will first speak from hearsay from Electra, this. Thou knowest the strife that took place between Atreus and Thyestes?
IPH. I have heard of it, when it was waged concerning the golden lamb.
OR. Dost thou then remember weaving [a representation of] this on the deftly-wrought web?
IPH. O dearest one. Thou art turning thy course near to my own thoughts.
OR. And [dost thou remember] a picture on the loom, the turning away of the sun?
IPH. I wove this image also in the fine-threaded web.
OR. And didst thou receive a bath from thy mother, sent to Aulis?
IPH. I know it: for the wedding, though good, did not take away my recollection.
OR. But what? [Dost thou remember] to have given thine hair to be carried to thy mother?
IPH. Ay, as a memorial for the tomb in place of my body.
OR. But the proofs which I have myself beheld, these will I tell, viz. the ancient spear of Pelops in my father's house, which brandishing in his hand, he [Pelops] won Hippodameia, having slain AEnomaus, which is hidden in thy virgin chamber.
IPH. O dearest one, no more, for thou art dearest. I hold thee, Orestes, one darling son far away from his father-land, from Argos, O thou dear one!
OR. And I [hold] thee that wast dead, as was supposed. But tears, yet tearless, and groans together mingled with joy, bedew thine eyelids, and mine in like manner.
IPH. This one, this, yet a babe I left, young in the arms of the nurse, ay, young in our house. O thou more fortunate than my words can tell, what shall I say? This matter has turned out beyond marvel or calculation.
OR. [Say this.] May we for the future be happy with each other!
IPH. I have experienced an unaccountable delight, dear companions, but I fear lest it flit from my hands, and escape toward the sky. O ye Cyclopean hearths, O Mycenae, dear country mine. I am grateful to thee for my life, and grateful for my nurture, in that thou hast trained for me this brother light in my home.
OR. In our race we are fortunate, but as to calamities, O sister, our life is by nature unhappy.
IPH. But I wretched remember when my father with foolish spirit laid the sword upon my neck.
OR. Ah me! For I seem, not being present, to behold you there.
IPH. Without Hymen, O my brother, when I was being led to the fictitious nuptial bed of Achilles. But near the altar were tears and lamentations. Alas! alas, for the lustral waters there!
OR. I mourn aloud for the deed my father dared.
IPH. I obtained a fatherless, a fatherless lot. But one calamity follows upon another.
OR. [Ay,] if thou hadst lost thy brother, O hapless one, by the intervention of some demon.
IPH. O miserable for my dreadful daring! I have dared horrid, I have dared horrid things. Alas! my brother. But by a little hast thou escaped an unholy destruction, stricken by my hands. But what will be the end after this? What fortune will befall me? What retreat can I find for thee away from this city? can I send you out of the reach of slaughter to your country Argos, before that my sword enter on the contest concerning thy blood? This is thy business, O hapless soul, to discover, whether over the land, not in a ship, but by the gust of your feet thou wilt approach death, passing through barbarian hordes, and through ways not to be traversed? Or [wilt thou pass] through the Cyanean creek, a long journey in the flight of ships. Wretched, wretched one! Who then or God, or mortal, or [unexpected event,] having accomplished a way out of inextricable difficulties, will show forth to the sole twain Atrides a release from ills?
CHOR. Among marvels and things passing even fable are these things which I shall tell as having myself beheld, and not from hearsay.
PYL. It is meet indeed that friends coming into the presence of friends, Orestes, should embrace one another with their hands, but, having ceased from mournful matters, it behooves you also to betake you to those measures by which we, obtaining the glorious name of safety, may depart from this barbarian earth. For it is the part of wise men, not wandering from their present chance, when they have obtained an opportunity, to acquire further delights.
OR. Thou sayest well. But I think that fortune will take care of this with us. For if a man be zealous, it is likely that the divine power will have still greater power.
IPH. Do not restrain or hinder me from your words, not first to know what fortune of life Electra has obtained, for this were pleasant to me [to hear.]
OR. She is partner with this man, possessing a happy life.
IPH. And of what country is he, and son of what man born?
OR. Strophius the Phocian is styled his father.
IPH. And he is of the daughter of Atreus, a relative of mine?
OR. Ay, a cousin, my only certain friend.
IPH. Was he not in being, when my father sought to slay me?
OR. He was not, for Strophius was childless some time.
IPH. Hail! O thou spouse of my sister.
OR. Ay, and my preserver, not relation only.
IPH. But how didst thou dare the terrible deeds in respect to your mother?
OR. Let us be silent respecting my mother—'twas in avenging my father.
IPH. And what was the reason for her slaying her husband?
OR. Let go the subject of my mother. Nor is it pleasant for you to hear.
IPH. I am silent. But Argos now looks up to thee.
OR. Menelaus rules: I am an exile from my country.
IPH. What, did our uncle abuse our house unprospering?
OR. Not so, but the fear of the Erinnyes drives me from my land.
IPH. For this then wert thou spoken of as being frantic even here on the shore.
OR. We were beheld not now for the first time in a hapless state.
IPH. I perceive. The Goddesses goaded thee on because of thy mother.
OR. Ay, so as to cast a bloody bit upon me.
IPH. For wherefore didst thou pilot thy foot to this land?
OR. I came, commanded by the oracles of Phoebus—
IPH. To do what thing? Is it one to be spoken of or kept in silence?
OR. I will tell you, but these are the beginning for me of many woes. After these evil things concerning my mother, on which I keep silence, had been wrought, I was driven an exile by the pursuits of the Erinnyes, when Loxias sent my foot to Athens, that I might render satisfaction to the deities that must not be named. For there is a holy council, that Jove once on a time instituted for Mars on account of some pollution of his hands. And coming thither, at first indeed no one of the strangers received me willingly, as being abhorred by the Gods, but they who had respect to me, afforded me a stranger's meal at a separate table, being under the same house roof, and silently devised in respect to me, unaddressed by them, how I might be separated from their banquet and cup, and, having filled up a share of wine in a separate vessel, equal for all, they enjoyed themselves. And I did not think fit to rebuke my guests, but I grieved in silence, and did not seem to perceive [their conduct,] deeply groaning, because I was my mother's slayer. But I hear that my misfortunes have been made a festival at Athens, and that this custom still remains, that the people of Pallas honor the Libation Vessel. But when I came to the hill of Mars, and stood in judgment, I indeed occupying one seat, but the eldest of the Erinnyes the other, having spoken and heard respecting my mother's death, Phoebus saved me by bearing witness, but Pallas counted out for me the equal votes with her hand, and I came off victor in the bloody trial. As many then as sat [in judgment,] persuaded by the sentence, determined to hold their dwelling near the court itself. But as many of the Erinnyes as did not yield obedience to the sentence passed, continually kept driving me with unsettled wanderings, until I again returned to the holy ground of Phoebus, and lying stretched before the adyts, hungering for food, I swore that I would break from life by dying on the spot, unless Phoebus, who had undone, should preserve me. Upon this Phoebus, uttering a voice from the golden tripod, sent me hither to seize the heaven-sent image, and place it in the land of Athens. But that safety which he marked out for me do thou aid in. For if we can lay hold on the image of the Goddess, I both shall cease from my madness, and embarking thee in the bark of many oars, I shall settle thee again in Mycenae. But, O beloved one, O sister mine, preserve my ancestral home, and preserve me, since all my state and that of the Pelopids is undone, unless we seize on the heavenly image of the Goddess.
CHOR. Some dreadful wrath of the Gods hath burst forth, and leads the seed of Tantalus through troubles.
IPH. I entertained the desire to reach Argos, and behold thee, my brother, even before thou camest. But I wish, as you do, both to save thee, and to restore again our sickening ancestral home from troubles, in no wise wrath with him who would have slain me. For I should both release my hand from thy slaughter, and preserve mine house. But I fear how I shall be able to escape the notice of the Goddess and the king, when he shall find the stone pedestal bared of the image. And how shall I escape death? What account can I give? But if indeed these matters can be effected at once, and thou wilt bear away the image, and lead me in the fair-pooped ship, the risk will be a glorious one. But separated from this I perish, but you, arranging your own affairs, would obtain a prosperous return. Yet in no wise will I fly, not even if I needs must perish, having preserved thee. In no wise, I say; for a man who dies from among his household is regretted, but a woman is of little account.
OR. I would not be the murderer both of thee and of my mother. Her blood is enough, and being of the same mind with you, [with you] I should wish, living or dying, to obtain an equal lot. But I will lead thee, even though I myself fall here, to my house, or, remaining with thee, will die. But hear my opinion. If this had been disagreeable to Diana, how would Loxias have answered, that I should remove the image of the Goddess to the city of Pallas, and behold thy face? For, putting all these matters together, I hope to obtain a return.
IPH. How then can it happen that neither you die, and that we obtain what we wish? For it is in this respect that our journey homeward is at fault, but the will is not wanting.
OR. Could we possibly destroy the tyrant?
IPH, Thou tellest a fearful thing, for strangers to slay their receivers.
OR. But if it will preserve thee and me, one must run the risk.
IPH. I could not—yet I approve your zeal.
OR. But what if you were secretly to hide me in this temple?
IPH. In order, forsooth, that, taking advantage of darkness, we might be saved?
OR. For night is the time for thieves, the light for truth.
IPH. But within are the sacred keepers, whom we can not escape.
OR. Alas! we are undone. How can we then be saved?
IPH. I seem to have a certain new device.
OR. Of what kind? Make me a sharer in your opinion, that I also may learn.
IPH. I will make use of thy ravings as a contrivance.
OR. Ay, cunning are women to find out tricks.
IPH. I will say that thou, being slayer of thy mother, art come from Argos.
OR. Make use of my troubles, if you can turn them to account.
IPH. I will say that it is not lawful to sacrifice thee to the Goddess.
OR. Having what pretext? For I partly suspect.
IPH. As not being pure, but I will [say that I will] give what is holy to sacrifice.
OR. How then the more will the image of the Goddess be obtained?
IPH. I [will say that I] will purify thee in the fountains of the sea.
OR. The statue, in quest of which, we have sailed, is still in the temple.
IPH. And I will say that I must wash that too, as if you had laid hands on it.
OR. Where then is the damp breaker of the sea of which you speak?
IPH. Where thy ship rides at anchor with rope-bound chains.
OR. But wilt thou, or some one else, bear the image in their hands?
IPH. I, for it is lawful for me alone to touch it.
OR. But in what part of this contrivance will our friend Pylades be placed?
IPH. He will be said to bear the same pollution of hands as thyself.
OR. And wilt thou do this unknown to, or with the knowledge of the king?
IPH. Having persuaded him by words, for I could not escape notice.
OR. And truly the well-rowed ship is ready for sailing.
IPH. You must take care of the rest, that it be well.
OR. There lacks but one thing, namely, that these women who are present preserve our secret. But do thou beseech them, and find words that will persuade. A woman in truth has power to move pity. But all the rest will perchance fall out well.
IPH. O dearest women, I look to you, and my affairs rest in you, as to whether they turn out well, or be of naught, and I be deprived of my country, my dear brother, and dearest sister. And let this first be the commencement of my words. We are women, a race well inclined to one another, and most safe in keeping secret matters of common interest. Do ye keep silence for us, and labor out our escape. Honorable is it for the man who possesses a faithful tongue. But behold how one fortune holds the three most dear, either a return to our father-land, or to die. But, being preserved, that thou also mayest share my fortune, I will restore thee safe to Greece. But, by thy right hand, thee, and thee [addressing the women of the chorus in succession] I beseech, and thee by thy beloved cheek, and thy knees, and those most dear at home, mother, and father, and children, to whom there are such. What say ye? Who of you will, or will not [speak!] these things. For if ye assent not to my words, I am undone, and my wretched sister.
CHOR. Be of good cheer, dear mistress, and think only of being saved, since on my part all shall be kept secret, the mighty Jove be witness! in the things thou enjoinest.
IPH. May your words profit ye, and may ye be blest. 'Tis thy part now, and thine [to the different women] to enter the house, as the ruler of this land will straightway come, inquiring concerning the sacrifice of the strangers, whether it is over. O revered Goddess, who in the recesses of Aulis didst save me from the dire hand of a slaying father, now also save me and these, or the voice of Loxias will through thee be no longer truthful among mortals. But do thou with good will quit the barbarian land for Athens, for it becomes thee not to dwell here, when you can possess a blest city.
CHORUS. Thou bird, that by the rocky cliffs of the sea, halcyon, dost chant thy mournful elegy, a sound well understood by the skilled, namely, that thou art ever bemoaning thine husband in song, I, a wingless bird, compare my dirge with thine, longing for the assemblies of the Greeks, longing for Lucina, who dwells along the Cynthian height, and near the palm with its luxuriant foliage, and the rich-springing laurel, and the holy shoot of the deep blue olive, the dear place of Latona's throes, and the lake that rolls its waters in a circle, where the melodious swan honors the muses. O ye many tricklings of tears which fell upon my cheeks, when, our towers being destroyed, I traveled in ships beneath the oars and the spears of the foes. And through a bartering of great price I came a journey to a barbarian land, where I serve the daughter of Agamemnon, the priestess of the Goddess, and the sheep-slaughtering altars, envying her who has all her life been unfortunate; for she bends not under necessity, who is familiar with it. Unhappiness is wont to change, but to fare ill after prosperity is a heavy life for mortals. And thee indeed, O mistress, an Argive ship of fifty oars will conduct home, and the wax-bound reed of mountain Pan with Syrinx tune cheer on the oarsmen, and prophet Phoebus, plying the tones of his seven-stringed lyre, with song will lead thee prosperously to the rich land of Athens. But leaving me here thou wilt travel by the dashing oars. And the halyards by the prow, will stretch forth the sails to the air, above the beak, the sheet lines of the swift-journeying ship. Would that I might pass through the glittering course, where the fair light of the sun wends its way, and over my own chamber might rest from rapidly moving the pinions on my shoulders. And would that I might stand in the dance, where also [I was wont to stand,] a virgin sprung from honorable nuptials, wreathing the dances of my companions at the foot of my dear mother, bounding to the rivalry of the graces, to the wealthy strife respecting [beauteous] hair, pouring my variously-painted garb and tresses around, I shadowed my cheeks.
THOAS. Where is the Grecian woman who keeps the gate of this temple? Has she yet begun the sacrifice of the strangers, and are the bodies burning in the flame within the pure recesses?
CHOR. Here she is, O king, who will tell thee clearly all.
TH. Ah! Why art thou removing in your arms this image of the Goddess from its seat that may not be disturbed, O daughter of Agamemnon?