Of flight we brook no thought,nor such hath been Our wont;nor may the god's commanding voice Be disobey'd;but from the temple now Retiring,in some cave,which the black sea Beats with its billows,we may lie conceal'd At distance from our bark,lest some,whose eyes May note it,bear the tidings to the king,And we be seized by force.But when the eye Of night comes darkling on,then must we dare,And take the polish'd image from the shrine,Attempting all things:and the vacant space Between the triglyphs (mark it well)enough Is open to admit us;by that way Attempt we to descend:in toils the brave Are daring;of no worth the abject soul.
ORESTES
This length of sea we plough'd not,from this coast,Nothing effected,to return:but well Hast thou advised;the god must be obey'd.
Retire we then where we may lie conceal'd;
For never from the god will come the cause,That what his sacred voice commands should fall Effectless.We must dare.No toil to youth Excuse,which justifies inaction,brings.
(They go out.IPHIGENIA and the CHORUS enter from the temple.)
IPHIGENIA (singing)
You,who your savage dwellings hold Nigh this inhospitable main,'Gainst clashing rocks with fury roll'd,From all but hallow'd words abstain.
Virgin queen,Latona's grace,joying in the mountain chase,To thy court,thy rich domain,To thy beauteous-pillar'd fane Where our wondering eyes behold Battlements that blaze with gold,Thus my virgin steps I bend,Holy,the holy to attend;Servant,virgin queen,to thee;
Power,who bear'st life's golden key,Far from Greece for steeds renown'd,From her walls with towers crown'd,From the beauteous-planted meads Where his train Eurotas leads,Visiting the loved retreats,Once my father's royal seats.
CHORUS (singing)
I come.What cares disturb thy rest?
Why hast thou brought me to the shrine?
Doth some fresh grief afflict thy breast?
Why bring me to this seat divine?
Thou daughter of that chief,whose powers Plough'd with a thousand keels the strand And ranged in arms shook Troy's proud towers Beneath the Atreidae's great command!