Upbraid not thus, O king, our feeble sex!
Though not in dignity to match with yours,
The weapons woman wields are not ignoble.
And trust me, Thoas, in thy happiness
I have a deeper insight than thyself.
Thou thinkest, ignorant alike of both,
A closer union would augment our bliss;
Inspir'd with confidence and honest zeal
Thou strongly urgest me to yield consent;
And here I thank the gods, who give me strength
To shun a doom unratified by them.
THOAS.
'Tis not a god, 'tis thine own heart that speaks.
IPHIGENIA.
'Tis through the heart alone they speak to us.
THOAS.
To hear them have I not an equal right?
IPHIGENIA.
The raging tempest drowns the still, small voice.