Taunting sad Charon for his slow advance.
Iphigenia!
Iphig. Why thus turn away?
Calling me with such fondness! I am here,
Father! and where you are, will ever be.
Aga. Thou art my child—yes, yes, thou art my child.
All was not once what all now is! Come on,
Idol of love and truth! my child! my child!
(Alone)
Fell woman! ever false! false was thy last