Iphigenia in Tauris [5]
slain; For Pluto was the Achilles, not the son Of Peleus, whom to me thou didst announce The affianced bridegroom, and by guile didst bring To bloody nuptials in the rolling car." But, o'er mine eyes the veil's fine texture spread, This brother in my hands who now is lost, I clasp'd not, though his sister; did not press My lips to his, through virgin modesty, As going to the house of Peleus: then Each fond embrace I to another time Deferr'd, as soon to Argos to return. If, O unhappy brother, thou art dead, From what a state, thy father's envied height Of glory, loved Orestes, art thou torn!- These false rules of the goddess much I blame: Whoe'er of mortals is with slaughter stain'd, Or hath at childbirth given assisting hands, Or chanced to touch aught dead, she as impure Drives from her altars; yet herself delights In human victims bleeding at her shrine. Ne'er did Latona from the embrace of Jove Bring forth such inconsistence: I then deem The feast of Tantalus, where gods were guests, Unworthy of belief, as that they fed On his son's flesh delighted; and I think These people, who themselves have a wild joy In shedding human blood, their savage guilt Charge on the goddess: for this truth I hold; None of the gods is evil, or doth wrong. (She enters the temple.) CHORUS (singing)
strophe 1
Ye rocks, ye dashing rocks, whose brow Frowns o'er the darken'd deeps below; Whose wild, inhospitable wave, From Argos flying and her native spring, The virgin once was known to brave, Tormented with the brize's maddening sting, From Europe when the rude sea o'er She pass'd to Asia's adverse shore; Who are these hapless youths, that dare to land, Leaving those soft, irriguous meads, Where, his green margin fringed with reeds, Eurotas rolls his ample tide, Or Dirce's hallow'd waters glide, And touch this barbarous, stranger-hating strand, The altars where a virgin dews, And blood the pillar'd shrine imbrues?
antistrophe 1
Did they with oars impetuous sweep (Rank answering rank) the foamy deep, And wing their bark with flying sails, To raise their humble fortune their desire; Eager to catch the rising gales, Their bosoms with the love of gain on fire? For sweet is hope to man's fond breast; The hope of gain, insatiate guest, Though on her oft attends Misfortune's train; For daring man she tempts to brave The dangers of the boisterous wave, And leads him heedless of his fate Through many a distant barbarous state. Vain his opinions, his pursuits are vain! Boundless o'er some her power is shown, But some her temperate influence own.
strophe 2
How did they pass the dangerous rocks Clashing with rude, tremendous shocks? How pass the savage-howling shore, Where once the unhappy Phineus held his reign, And sleep affrighted flies its roar, Steering their rough course o'er this boisterous main, Form'd in a ring, beneath whose waves The Nereid train in high arch'd caves Weave the light dance, and raise the sprightly song, While, whispering in their swelling sails, Soft Zephyrs breathe, or southern gales Piping amid their tackling play, As their bark ploughs its watery way Those hoary cliffs, the haunts of birds, along, To that wild strand, the rapid race Where once Achilles deign'd to grace?
antistrophe 2
O that from Troy some chance would bear Leda's loved daughter, fatal fair (The royal virgin's vows are mine) That her bright tresses roll'd in crimson dew, Her warm blood flowing at this shrine The altar of the goddess might imbrue; And Vengeance,
strophe 1
Ye rocks, ye dashing rocks, whose brow Frowns o'er the darken'd deeps below; Whose wild, inhospitable wave, From Argos flying and her native spring, The virgin once was known to brave, Tormented with the brize's maddening sting, From Europe when the rude sea o'er She pass'd to Asia's adverse shore; Who are these hapless youths, that dare to land, Leaving those soft, irriguous meads, Where, his green margin fringed with reeds, Eurotas rolls his ample tide, Or Dirce's hallow'd waters glide, And touch this barbarous, stranger-hating strand, The altars where a virgin dews, And blood the pillar'd shrine imbrues?
antistrophe 1
Did they with oars impetuous sweep (Rank answering rank) the foamy deep, And wing their bark with flying sails, To raise their humble fortune their desire; Eager to catch the rising gales, Their bosoms with the love of gain on fire? For sweet is hope to man's fond breast; The hope of gain, insatiate guest, Though on her oft attends Misfortune's train; For daring man she tempts to brave The dangers of the boisterous wave, And leads him heedless of his fate Through many a distant barbarous state. Vain his opinions, his pursuits are vain! Boundless o'er some her power is shown, But some her temperate influence own.
strophe 2
How did they pass the dangerous rocks Clashing with rude, tremendous shocks? How pass the savage-howling shore, Where once the unhappy Phineus held his reign, And sleep affrighted flies its roar, Steering their rough course o'er this boisterous main, Form'd in a ring, beneath whose waves The Nereid train in high arch'd caves Weave the light dance, and raise the sprightly song, While, whispering in their swelling sails, Soft Zephyrs breathe, or southern gales Piping amid their tackling play, As their bark ploughs its watery way Those hoary cliffs, the haunts of birds, along, To that wild strand, the rapid race Where once Achilles deign'd to grace?
antistrophe 2
O that from Troy some chance would bear Leda's loved daughter, fatal fair (The royal virgin's vows are mine) That her bright tresses roll'd in crimson dew, Her warm blood flowing at this shrine The altar of the goddess might imbrue; And Vengeance,