IPHIGENIA.
The Image stirred and shuddered from its seat.

THOAS.
Itself? … Some shock of earthquake loosened it.

IPHIGENIA.
Itself. And the eyes closed one breathing space.

THOAS.
But why? For those two men's bloodguiltiness?

IPHIGENIA.
That, nothing else. For, Oh, their guilt is sore.

THOAS.
They killed some of my herdsmen on the shore?

IPHIGENIA.
Their sin was brought from home, not gathered here.

THOAS.
What? I must know this.—Make thy story clear.

IPHIGENIA. (she puts the image down and moves nearer to thoas.) The men have slain their mother.

THOAS.
God! And these
Be Greeks!