SCENE V.
ORESTES. IPHIGENIA. THOAS.
Enter PYLADES, soon after him ARKAS, both with drawn swords.
PYLADES.
Do not delay! our friends are putting forth
Their final strength, and yielding step by step,
Are slowly driven backward to the sea.—
A conference of princes find I here?
Is this the sacred person of the king?
ARKAS.
Calmly, as doth become thee, thou dost stand,
O king, surrounded by thine enemies.
Soon their temerity shall be chastis'd;
Their yielding followers fly.—their ship is ours.
Speak but the word, and it is wrapt in flames.
THOAS.
Go, and command my people to forbear!
Let none annoy the foe while we confer. (Arkas retires.)