Iphigenia. 
Oh tell me what is further known to thee.

                   Arkas. 

Learn it from him.  I see the king approach;
Thou honour’st him, and thy own heart will prompt thee
To meet him kindly and with confidence. 
A noble man by woman’s gentle word
May oft be led.

Iphigenia, alone. 
I see not how I can
Follow the counsel of my faithful friend. 
But willingly the duty I perform
Of giving thanks for benefits receiv’d,
And much I wish that to the king my lips
With truth could utter what would please his ear.

SceneIII.

Iphigenia.  Thoas.

                 Iphigenia. 

Her royal gifts the goddess shower on thee! 
Imparting conquest, wealth, and high renown,
Dominion, and the welfare of thy house,
With the fulfilment of each pious wish,
That thou, who over numbers rul’st supreme,
Thyself may’st be supreme in happiness!

                   Thoas. 

Contented were I with my people’s praise;
My conquests others more than I enjoy. 
Oh! be he king or subject, he’s most blest,
Who in his home finds happiness and peace. 
Thou shar’dst my sorrow, when a hostile sword
Tore from my side my last, my dearest son;
Long as fierce vengeance occupied my heart,
I did not feel my dwelling’s dreary void;
But now, returning home, my rage appeas’d,
My foes defeated, and my son aveng’d,
I find there nothing left to comfort me. 
The glad obedience, which I used to see
Kindling in every eye, is smother’d now
In discontent and gloom; each, pond’ring, weighs
The changes which a future day may bring,
And serves the childless king, because compell’d. 
To-day I come within this sacred fane,
Which I have often enter’d to implore
And thank the gods for conquest.  In my breast
I bear an old and fondly-cherish’d wish. 
To which methinks thou canst not be a stranger;
Thee, maid, a blessing to myself and realm,
I hope, as bride, to carry to my home.

                 Iphigenia. 

Too great thine offer, king, to one unknown;
Abash’d the fugitive before thee stands,
Who on this shore sought only what thou gav’st,
Safety and peace.

Thoas. 
Thus still to shroud thyself
From me, as from the lowest, in the veil
Of mystery which wrapp’d thy coming here,
Would in no country be deem’d just or right. 
Strangers this shore appall’d; ’twas so ordain’d
Alike by law and stern necessity. 
From thee alone—­a kindly welcom’d guest,
Who hast enjoy’d each hallow’d privilege,
And spent thy days in freedom unrestrain’d—­
From thee I hop’d that confidence to gain
Which every faithful host may justly claim.