Next, send through all the city streets a herald-- _Thoas._ Aye; and what to say? _Iphigenia._ That no man living stir abroad. {267} _Thoas._ The stain of blood might cross their way. _Iphigenia._ Aye, sin like theirs doth spread contagion. _Thoas._ (_To an attendant_) Forth, and publish my command-- _Iphigenia._ That none stir forth--nor look-- _Thoas._ Nor look. How well thou carest for the land! _Iphigenia._ For one whom I am bound to love. _Thoas._ Indeed, I think thou hat'st me not. _Iphigenia._ And thou meanwhile, here at the temple, wait, O King, and-- _Thoas._ Wait for what? _Iphigenia._ Purge all the shrine with fire. _Thoas._ 'Twill all be clean before you come again. _Iphigenia._ And while the strangers pass thee close, seeking the sea-- _Thoas._ What wouldst thou then? _Iphigenia._ Put darkness on thine eyes. _Thoas._ Mine eyes might drink the evil of their crime? _Iphigenia._ And, should I seem to stay too long-- _Thoas._ Too long? How shall I judge the time? _Iphigenia._ Be not dismayed. _Thoas._ Perform thy rite all duly. We have time to spare. _Iphigenia._ And God grant this cleansing end as I desire! _Thoas._ I join thy prayer. _Iphigenia._ The door doth open. * * * * * {268} (_She takes up the Image again._) There passeth here a holy thing; begone, I charge thee, from the road. * * * * * Begone and tremble from this road: fly swiftly, lest ye be defiled. O Queen and Virgin, Leto-born, have pity! Let me cleanse this stain, And pray to thee where pray I would: a clean house shall be thine again, And we at last win happiness. Behold, I speak but as I dare; The rest--Oh, God is wise, and thou, my Mistress, thou canst read my prayer. (_The procession passes out. Thoas and the bystanders veiled; Attendants in front, then Iphigenia with the Image, then veiled soldiers, then Orestes and Pylades bound, the bonds held by other veiled soldiers following them. Thoas goes into the Temple._) Here follows a song from the Chorus which fills the interval during which the cleansing ceremonies are supposed to be taking place. At the end of the song there enters a messenger running. _Messenger._ Ho, watchers of the fane! Ho, altar-guard, Where is King Thoas gone? Undo the barred Portals, and call the King! The King I seek. _Leader._ What tidings--if unbidden I may speak? {269} _Messenger._ The strangers both are gone, and we beguiled, By some dark plot of Agamemnon's child: Fled from the land! And on a barque of Greece They bear the heaven-sent shape of Artemis. _Leader._ Thy tale is past belief.--Go, swiftly on, And find the King. He is but newly gone. _Messenger._ Where went he? He must know of what has passed! _Leader._ I know not where he went. But follow fast And seek him. Thou wilt light on him ere long. _Messenger._