Iphigenia. 

He speaks not of my father, doth not name
Him with the fallen.  He may yet survive! 
I may behold him! still hope on, my heart!

                  Pylades. 

Yet happy are the thousands who receiv’d
Their bitter death-blow from a hostile hand! 
For terror wild, and end most tragical,
Some hostile, angry, deity prepar’d,
Instead of triumph, for the home-returning. 
Do human voices never reach this shore? 
Far as their sound extends, they bear the fame
Of deeds unparallel’d.  And is the woe
Which fills Mycene’s halls with ceaseless sighs
To thee a secret still?—­And know’st thou not
That Clytemnestra, with AEgisthus’ aid,
Her royal consort artfully ensnar’d,
And murder’d on the day of his return?—­
The monarch’s house thou honourest!  I perceive
Thy heaving bosom vainly doth contend
With tidings fraught with such unlook’d-for woe
Art thou the daughter of a friend? or born
Within the circuit of Mycene’s walls? 
Do not conceal it, nor avenge on me
That here the horrid crime I first announc’d.

Iphigenia. 
Proceed, and tell me how the deed was done.

                  Pylades. 

The day of his return, as from the bath
Arose the monarch, tranquil and refresh’d. 
His robe demanding from his consort’s hand,
A tangl’d garment, complicate with folds. 
She o’er his shoulders flung and noble head;
And when, as from a net, he vainly strove
To extricate himself, the traitor, base
AEgisthus, smote him, and envelop’d thus
Great Agamemnon sought the shades below.

Iphigenia. 
And what reward receiv’d the base accomplice?

Pylades. 
A queen and kingdom he possess’d already.

Iphigenia. 
Base passion prompted, then, the deed of shame?

Pylades. 
And feelings, cherish’d long, of deep revenge.

Iphigenia. 
How had the monarch injured Clytemnestra?

                  Pylades. 

By such a dreadful deed, that if on earth
Aught could exculpate murder, it were this. 
To Aulis he allur’d her, when the fleet
With unpropitious winds the goddess stay’d;
And there, a victim at Diana’s shrine,
The monarch, for the welfare of the Greeks,
Her eldest daughter doom’d.  And this, ’tis said,
Planted such deep abhorrence in her heart,
That to AEgisthus she resign’d herself,
And round her husband flung the web of death.

Iphigenia. (veiling herself). 
It is enough!  Thou wilt again behold me.

                  Pylades, alone. 

The fortune of this royal house, it seems,
Doth move her deeply.  Whosoe’er she be,
She must herself have known the monarch well;—­
For our good fortune, from a noble house,
She hath been sold to bondage.  Peace, my heart! 
And let us steer our course with prudent zeal
Toward the star of hope which gleams upon us.