Chapter 9

IPHIGENIA. When the Powers on high decree For a feeble child of earth Dire perplexity and woe, And his spirit doom to pass With tumult wild from joy to grief, And back again from grief to joy, In fearful alternation; They in mercy then provide, In the precincts of his home, Or upon the distant shore, That to him may never fail Ready help in hours of need, A tranquil, faithful friend. Oh, bless, ye heavenly powers, our Pylades, And every project that his mind may form! In combat his the vigorous arm of youth, And in the counsel his the eye of age. His soul is tranquil; in his inner mind He guards a sacred, undisturb'd repose, And from its silent depths a rich supply Of aid and counsel draws for the distress'd. He tore me from my brother, upon whom, With fond amaze, I gaz'd and gaz'd again; I could not realize my happiness, Nor loose him from my arms, and heeded not The danger's near approach that threatens us. To execute their project of escape, They hasten to the sea, where in a bay Their comrades in the vessel lie conceal'd And wait a signal. Me they have supplied With artful answers, should the monarch send To urge the sacrifice. Alas! I see I must consent to follow like a child. I have not learn'd deception, nor the art To gain with crafty wiles my purposes. Detested falsehood! it doth not relieve The breast like words of truth: it comforts not, But is a torment in the forger's heart, And, like an arrow which a god directs, Flies back and wounds the archer. Through my heart One fear doth chase another; perhaps with rage, Again on the unconsecrated shore, The Furies' grisly band my brother seize. Perchance they are surpris'd? Methinks I hear The tread of armed men. A messenger Is coming from the king, with hasty steps. How throbs my heart, how troubl'd is my soul Now that I see the countenance of one, Whom with a word untrue I must encounter!