The book of the ancient Greeks: An introduction to the history and civilization of Greece from the coming of the Greeks to the conquest of Corinth by Rome in 146 B.C. — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The book of the ancient Greeks: An introduction to the history and civilization of Greece from the coming of the Greeks to the conquest of Corinth by Rome in 146 B.C.
John Stuart Mill · en
What tidings, ho? With what intent
Hast called me to thy shrine and thee,
O child of him who crossed the sea
To Troy with that great armament,
The thousand prows, the myriad swords?
I come, O child of Atreid Lords.
(_Iphigenia, followed by attendants, comes from the Temple._)
_Iphigenia._
Alas! O maidens mine,
I am filled full of tears:
My heart filled with the beat
Of tears, as of dancing feet,
A lyreless, joyless line,
And music meet for the dead.
For a whisper is in mine ears,
By visions borne on the breath
Of the Night that now is fled,
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Of a brother gone to death.
Oh sorrow and weeping sore,
For the house that no more is,
For the dead that were kings of yore
And the labour of Argolis!
Iphigenia and the Chorus then lament together over the ruin and loss
that has befallen the House of Agamemnon. Suddenly the Leader of the
Chorus stops them.
_Leader._
Stay, yonder from some headland of the sea
There comes, methinks a herdsman, seeking thee.
(_Enter a Herdsman. Iphigenia is still on her knees._)
_Herdsman._
Daughter of Clytemnestra and her King,
Give ear! I bear news of a wondrous thing.
_Iphigenia._
What news, that so should mar my obsequies?
_Herdsman._
A ship hath passed the blue Symplegades,
And here upon our coast two men are thrown,
Young, bold, good slaughter for the altar-stone
Of Artemis.
(_She rises._)
Make all the speed ye may;
'Tis not too much. The blood-bowl and the spray!
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_Iphigenia._
Men of what nation? Doth their habit show?
_Herdsman._
Hellenes for sure, but that is all we know.
_Iphigenia._
No name? No other clue thine ear could seize?
_Herdsman._
We heard one call his comrade "Pylades."
_Iphigenia._
Yes. And the man who spoke--his name was what?
_Herdsman._
None of us heard. I think they spoke it not.
_Iphigenia._
How did ye see them first, how make them fast?
_Herdsman._
Down by the sea, just where the surge is cast,--
_Iphigenia._
The sea? What is the sea to thee and thine?
_Herdsman._
We came to wash our cattle in the brine.
_Iphigenia._
Go back, and tell how they were taken; show
The fashion of it, for I fain would know
All.--'Tis so long a time, and never yet,
Never, hath Greek blood made this altar wet.
The herdsman tells his tale of how the men were taken prisoners.
Iphigenia hears in silence and at the end of it says:
'Tis well. Let thy hand bring them, and mine own
Shall falter not till here God's will be done.
(_Exit Herdsman._)
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