But I have always been hoping in thee, O Diana, Who didst take in thy soft arms me, the rejected daughter Of the greatest king! Yes, daughter of Zeus, I thought if thou gavest such anguish to him, the high hero, The godlike Agamemnon; Since he brought his dearest, a victim, to thy altar, That, when he should return, crowned with glory, from Ilium, At the same time thou would'st give to his arms his other treasures, His spouse, Electra, and the princely son; Me also, thou would'st restore to mine own, Saving a second time me, whom from death thou didst save, From this worse death,--the life of exile here. These are the words and thoughts; but how give an idea of the sweet simplicity of expression in the original, where every word has the grace and softness of a flower petal? She is interrupted by a messenger from the king, who prepares her for a visit from himself of a sort she has dreaded. Thoas, who has always loved her, now left childless by the calamities of war, can no longer resist his desire to reanimate by her presence his desert house. He begins by urging her to tell him the story of her race, which she does in a way that makes us feel as if that most famous tragedy had never before found a voice, so simple, so fresh in its naivete is the recital. Thoas urges his suit undismayed by the fate that hangs over the race of Tantalus. THOAS. Was it the same Tantalus, Whom Jupiter called to his council and banquets, In whose talk so deeply experienced, full of various learning, The Gods delighted as in the speech of oracles? IPHIGENIA. It is the same, but the Gods should not Converse with men, as with their equals. The mortal race is much too weak Not to turn giddy on unaccustomed heights. He was not ignoble, neither a traitor, But for a servant too great, and as a companion Of the great Thunderer only a man. So was His fault also that of a man, its penalty Severe, and poets sing--Presumption And faithlessness cast him down from the throne of Jove, Into the anguish of ancient Tartarus; Ah, and all his race bore their hate. THOAS. Bore it the blame of the ancestor, or its own? IPHIGENIA. Truly the vehement breast and powerful life of the Titan Were the assured inheritance of son and grandchild; But the Gods bound their brows with a brazen band, Moderation, counsel, wisdom, and patience Were hid from their wild, gloomy glance, Each desire grew to fury, And limitless ranged their passionate thoughts. Iphigenia refuses with gentle firmness to give to gratitude what was not due. Thoas leaves her in anger, and, to make her feel it, orders that the old, barbarous custom be renewed, and two strangers just arrived be immolated at Diana's altar.