As doth become the exile and the orphan.
ARKAS
Dost thou then here seem exil'd and an orphan?
IPHIGENIA
Can foreign scenes our fatherland replace?
ARKAS
Thy fatherland is foreign now to thee.
IPHIGENIA
Hence is it that my bleeding heart ne'er heals.
In early youth, when first my soul, in love,
Held father, mother, brethren fondly twin'd,
A group of tender germs, in union sweet,
We sprang in beauty from the parent stem,
And heavenward grew; alas, a foreign curse
Then seized and sever'd me from those I loved,
And wrench'd with iron grasp the beauteous bands
It vanish'd then, the fairest charm of youth,
The simple gladness of life's early dawn;
Though sav'd I was a shadow of myself,
And life's fresh joyance blooms in me no more.