PYLADES.
May I see home no more. And thou, what then?
IPHIGENIA.
May this foot never tread Greek earth again.
PYLADES.
But stay: there is one chance we have forgot.
IPHIGENIA.
A new oath can be sworn, if this serve not.
PYLADES.
In one case set me free. Say I be crossed
With shipwreck, and, with ship and tablet lost
And all I bear, my life be saved alone:
Let not this oath be held a thing undone,
To curse me.
IPHIGENIA.
Nay, then, many ways are best
To many ends. The words thou carriest
Enrolled and hid beneath that tablet's rim,
I will repeat to thee, and thou to him
I look for. Safer so. If the scrip sail
Unhurt to Greece, itself will tell my tale
Unaided: if it drown in some wide sea,
Save but thyself, my words are saved with thee.
PYLADES.
For thy sake and for mine 'tis fairer so.
Now let me hear his name to whom I go
In Argolis, and how my words should run.
IPHIGENIA (REPEATING THE WORDS BY HEART).
Say: "To Orestes, Agamemnon's son
She that was slain in Aulis, dead to Greece
Yet quick, Iphigenia sendeth peace:"
ORESTES.
Iphigenia! Where? Back from the dead?
IPHIGENIA.
'Tis I. But speak not, lest thou break my thread.—
"Take me to Argos, brother, ere I die,
Back from the Friendless Peoples and the high
Altar of Her whose bloody rites I wreak."