Kitabı oku: «The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01», sayfa 13

SCENE II

ORESTES (recovering from his swoon and standing up)

 
Give yet another! reach from Lethe's stream
The last reviving draught of cool refreshment!
Soon shall its waters in my bosom still
Life's fitful fever; and my spirit then
Adown oblivion's stream shall glide to you,
Ye spirits shrouded in eternal mist.
With tranquil pleasure in your deep repose
A weary son of earth may lave his soul!—
What whisp'ring sounds pervade the dreary grove?
What hollow murmurs haunt its twilight gloom?—
They gather round to view the stranger guest!
Who are you troop in high communion met,
Like an assembled family of princes?
They mingle peacefully, of every age,
Of either sex; godlike, of kindred mould,
Appear the gliding figures. Yes, 'tis they,
The fathers of my race! With Atreus,
In friendly converse glides Thyestes' shade,
And children playfully around them sport.
Is there no enmity among you now?
And is revenge extinguish'd with the sun
So am I also welcome, and may hope
To mingle in your solemn company.
Welcome, my sires! Orestes bids you hail!
The seed that ye have sow'd, that hath he reap'd.
Laden with curses he descends to you.
But burdens here are lighter far to bear.
Receive him, oh, receive him in your circle!
Thee, Atreus, I revere, and thee, Thyestes
Here all are free from enmity and hate.—
Show me my father, whom I only once
In life beheld.—Art thou my father, thou,
My mother leading thus familiarly?
Dares Clytemnestra reach her hand to thee
Then may Orestes also draw near her,
And say, Behold thy son!—My ancestors,
Behold your son, and bid him welcome here.
Among the sons of ancient Tantalus,
A kind salute on earth was murder's watchword,
And all their joys commence beyond the grave.
Ye welcome me! Ye bid me join your circle!
Oh, lead me to my honor'd ancestor!
Where is our aged sire? Let me behold
The dear, the venerable head of him
Who with the immortal gods in council sat.
Ye seem to shudder and to turn away!
What may this mean? Suffers the godlike man?
Alas! the mighty gods, with ruthless hate,
To his heroic breast, with brazen chains,
Have cruel pangs indissolubly bound.
 

SCENE III

ORESTES, IPHIGENIA, PYLADES

ORESTES

 
How! Are ye come already here below?
Welcome, my sister! Still Electra fails;
O that some kindly god, with gentle arrow,
Her too, full speedily, would downward send!
Thee, hapless friend, I must compassionate!
Come with me! Come! To Pluto's gloomy throne,
There to salute our hosts like stranger guests.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Celestial pair, who from the realms above
By night and day shed down the beauteous light
To cheer mankind, but who may not illume
Departed spirits, save a mortal pair!
A brother's and a sister's anguish pity!
For thou, Diana, lov'st thy gentle brother
Beyond what earth and heaven can offer thee;
And dost, with quiet yearning, ever turn
Thy virgin face to his eternal light.
Let not my only brother, found so late,
Rave in the darkness of insanity!
And is thy will, when 'thou didst here conceal me,
At length fulfill'd,—wouldst thou to me through him
To him through me, thy gracious aid extend,—
Oh, free him from the fetters of this curse,
Lest vainly pass the precious hours of safety.
 

PYLADES

 
Dost thou not know us, and this sacred grove,
And this blest light, which shines not on the dead?
Dost thou not feel thy sister and thy friend,
Who hold thee living in their firm embrace?
Us firmly grasp; we are not empty shades.
Mark well my words! Collect thy scatter'd thoughts!
Attend! Each moment is of priceless worth,
And our return hangs on a slender thread,
Which, as it seems, some gracious fate doth spin.
 

ORESTES (to IPHIGENIA)

 
My sister, let me for the first time taste,
With open hearts pure joy within thine arms!
Ye gods, who charge the heavy clouds with dread,
And sternly gracious send the long-sought rain
With thunder and the rush of mighty winds,
A horrid deluge on the trembling earth;
Yet dissipate at length man's dread suspense,
Exchanging timid wonder's anxious gaze
For grateful looks and joyous songs of praise,
When in each sparkling drop which gems the leaves,
Apollo, thousand-fold, reflects his beam,
And Iris colors with a magic hand
The dusty texture of the parting clouds;
Oh, let me also in my sister's arms,
And on the bosom of my friend, enjoy
With grateful thanks the bliss ye now bestow;
My heart assures me that your curses cease.
The dread Eumenides at length retire,
The brazen gates of Tartarus I hear
Behind them closing with a thunderous clang.
A quick'ning odor from the earth ascends,
Inviting me to chase, upon its plains,
The joys of life and deeds of high emprize.
 

PYLADES

 
Lose not the moments which are limited!
The favoring gale, which swells our parting sail,
Must to Olympus waft our perfect joy.
Quick counsel and resolve the time demands.
 

ACT IV

SCENE I

IPHIGENIA

 
When the Powers on high decree
For a feeble child of earth
Dire perplexity and woe,
And his spirit doom to pass
With tumult wild from joy to grief,
And back again from grief to joy,
In fearful alternation;
They in mercy then provide,
In the precincts of his home,
Or upon the distant shore,
That to him may never fail
Ready help in hours of need,
A tranquil, faithful friend.
Oh, bless, ye heavenly powers, our Pylades,
And whatsoever he may undertake!
He is in fight the vigorous arm of youth,
And his the thoughtful eye of age in counsel;
For tranquil is his soul; he guardeth there
Of calm a sacred and exhaustless dower,
And from its depths, in rich supply, outpours
Comfort and counsel for the sore distressed.
He tore me from my brother, upon whom,
With fond amaze, I gaz'd and gaz'd again;
I could not realize my happiness,
Nor loose him from my arms, and heeded not
The danger's near approach that threatens us.
To execute their project of escape,
They hasten to the sea, where in a bay
Their comrades in the vessel lie conceal'd
Waiting a signal. Me they have supplied
With artful answers, should the monarch send
To urge the sacrifice. Alas! I see
I must consent to follow like a child,
I have not learn'd deception, nor the art
To gain with crafty wiles my purposes.
Detested falsehood! it doth not relieve
The breast like words of truth: it comforts not,
But is a torment in the forger's heart,
And, like an arrow which a god directs,
Flies back and wounds the archer. Through my heart
One fear doth chase another; perhaps with rage,
Again on the unconsecrated shore,
The Furies' grisly band my brother seize.
Perchance they are surpris'd! Methinks, I hear
The tread of armèd men. A messenger
Is coming from the king, with hasty steps.
How throbs my heart, how troubled is my soul,
Now that I gaze upon the face of one,
Whom with a word untrue I must encounter!
 

SCENE II

IPHIGENIA, ARKAS

ARKAS

 
Priestess, with speed conclude the sacrifice!
Impatiently the king and people wait.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I had perform'd my duty and thy will,
Had not an unforeseen impediment
The execution of my purpose thwarted.
 

ARKAS

 
What is it that obstructs the king's commands?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Chance, which from mortals will not brook control.
 

ARKAS

 
Possess me with the reason, that with speed
I may inform the king, who hath decreed
The death of both.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
            The gods have not decreed it.
The elder of these men doth bear the guilt
Of kindred murder; on his steps attend
The dread Erinnys. In the inner fane
They seized upon their prey, polluting thus
The holy sanctuary. I hasten now,
Together with my virgin-train, to bathe
The goddess' image in the sea, and there
With solemn rites its purity restore.
Let none presume our silent march to follow!
 

ARKAS

 
This hindrance to the monarch I'll announce
Commence not thou the rite till he permit.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
The priestess interferes alone in this.
 

ARKAS

 
An incident so strange the king should know.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Here, nor his counsel nor command avails.
 

ARKAS

 
Oft are the great consulted out of form.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Do not insist on what I must refuse.
 

ARKAS

 
A needful and a just demand refuse not.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I yield, if thou delay not.
 

ARKAS

 
                               I with speed
Will bear these tidings to the camp, and soon
Acquaint thee, priestess, with the king's reply.
There is a message I would gladly bear him;
'Twould quickly banish all perplexity
Thou didst not heed thy faithful friend's advice.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I willingly have done whate'er I could.
 

ARKAS

 
E'en now 'tis not too late to change thy purpose.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
To do so is, alas, beyond our power.
 

ARKAS

 
What thou wouldst shun, thou deem'st impossible.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Thy wish doth make thee deem it possible.
 

ARKAS

 
Wilt thou so calmly venture everything?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
My fate I have committed to the gods.
 

ARKAS

 
The gods are wont to save by human means.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
By their appointment everything is done.
 

ARKAS

 
Believe me, all doth now depend on thee.
The irritated temper of the king
Alone condemns these men to bitter death.
The soldiers from the cruel sacrifice
And bloody service long have been disused;
Nay, many, whom their adverse fortunes cast
In foreign regions, there themselves have felt
How godlike to the exil'd wanderer
The friendly countenance of man appears.
Do not deprive us of thy gentle aid!
With ease thou canst thy sacred task fulfil;
For nowhere doth benignity, which comes
In human form from heaven, so quickly gain
An empire o'er the heart, as where a race,
Gloomy and savage, full of life and power,
Without external guidance, and oppress'd
With vague forebodings, bear life's heavy load.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Shake not my spirit, which thou canst not bend
According to thy will.
 

ARKAS

 
                    While there is time
Nor labor nor persuasion shall be spar'd.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Thy labor but occasions pain to me;
Both are in vain; therefore, I pray, depart.
 

ARKAS

 
I summon pain to aid me, 'tis a friend
Who counsels wisely.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
                  Though it shakes my soul,
It doth not banish thence my strong repugnance.
 

ARKAS

 
Can then a gentle soul repugnance feel
For benefits bestow'd by one so noble?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Yes, when the donor, for those benefits,
Instead of gratitude, demands myself.
 

ARKAS

 
Who no affection feels doth never want
Excuses. To the king I will relate
What hath befallen. O that in thy soul
Thou wouldst revolve his noble conduct to thee
Since thy arrival to the present day!
 

SCENE III

IPHIGENIA (alone)

 
These words at an unseasonable hour
Produce a strong revulsion in my breast;
I am alarm'd!—For as the rushing tide
In rapid currents eddies o'er the rocks
Which lie among the sand upon the shore;
E'en so a stream of joy o'erwhelm'd my soul.
I grasp'd what had appear'd impossible.
It was as though another gentle cloud
Around me lay, to raise me from the earth,
And rock my spirit in the same sweet sleep
Which the kind goddess shed around my brow,
What time her circling arm from danger snatched me.
My brother forcibly engross'd my heart;
I listen'd only to his friend's advice;
My soul rush'd eagerly to rescue them,
And as the mariner with joy surveys
The less'ning breakers of a desert isle,
So Tauris lay behind me. But the voice
Of faithful Arkas wakes me from my dream,
Reminding me that those whom I forsake
Are also men. Deceit doth now become
Doubly detested. O my soul, be still!
Beginn'st thou now to tremble and to doubt?
Thy lonely shelter on the firm-set earth
Must thou abandon? and, embark'd once more,
At random drift upon tumultuous waves,
A stranger to thyself and to the world?
 

SCENE IV

IPHIGENIA, PYLADES

PYLADES

 
Where is she? that my words with speed may tell
The joyful tidings of our near escape!
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Oppress'd with gloomy care, I much require
The certain comfort thou dost promise me.
 

PYLADES

 
Thy brother is restor'd! The rocky paths
Of this unconsecrated shore we trod
In friendly converse, while behind us lay,
Unmark'd by us, the consecrated grove;
And ever with increasing glory shone
The fire of youth around his noble brow.
Courage and hope his glowing eye inspir'd;
And his exultant heart resigned itself
To the delight, the joy, of rescuing
Thee, his deliverer, also me, his friend.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
The gods shower blessings on thee, Pylades!
And from those lips which breathe such welcome news
Be the sad note of anguish never heard!
 

PYLADES

 
I bring yet more,—for Fortune, like a prince,
Comes not alone, but well accompanied.
Our friends and comrades we have also found.
Within a bay they had conceal'd the ship,
And mournful sat expectant. They beheld
Thy brother, and a joyous shout uprais'd,
Imploring him to haste the parting hour.
Each hand impatient long'd to grasp the oar,
While from the shore a gently murmuring breeze,
Perceiv'd by all, unfurl'd its wing auspicious.
Let us then hasten; guide me to the fane,
That I may tread the sanctuary, and win
With sacred awe the goal of our desires.
I can unaided on my shoulder bear
The goddess' image: how I long to feel
The precious burden!
 

(While speaking the last words, he approaches the Temple, without perceiving that he is not followed by IPHIGENIA: at length he turns around.)

 
                   Why thus lingering stand?
Why art thou silent? wherefore thus confus'd?
Doth some new obstacle oppose our bliss?
Inform me, hast thou to the king announc'd
The prudent message we agreed upon?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I have, dear Pylades; yet wilt thou chide.
Thy very aspect is a mute reproach.
The royal messenger arriv'd, and I,
According to thy counsel, fram'd my speech.
He seem'd surpris'd, and urgently besought,
That to the monarch I should first announce
The rite unusual, and attend his will.
I now await the messenger's return.
 

PYLADES

 
Danger again doth hover o'er our heads!
Alas! Why hast thou failed to shroud thyself
Within the veil of sacerdotal rites?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I never have employ'd them as a veil.
 

PYLADES

 
Pure soul! thy scruples will destroy alike
Thyself and us. Why did I not forsee
Such an emergency, and tutor thee
This counsel also wisely to elude?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Chide only me, for mine alone the blame.
Yet other answer could I not return
To him, who strongly and with reason urged
What my own heart acknowledg'd to be right.
 

PYLADES

 
The danger thickens; but let us be firm.
Nor with incautious haste betray ourselves;
Calmly await the messenger's return,
And then stand fast, whatever his reply:
For the appointment of such sacred rites
Doth to the priestess, not the king, belong.
Should he demand the stranger to behold,
Who is by madness heavily oppress'd,
Evasively pretend, that in the fane,
Well guarded, thou retainest him and me.
Thus you secure us time to fly with speed,
Bearing the sacred treasure from this race,
Unworthy its possession. Phoebus sends
Auspicious omens, and fulfils his word,
Ere we the first conditions have perform'd.
Free is Orestes, from the curse absolv'd!
Oh, with the freed one, to the rocky isle
Where dwells the god, waft us, propitious gales.
Thence to Mycene, that she may revive;
That from the ashes of the extinguish'd hearth,
The household gods may joyously arise,
And beauteous fire illumine their abode!
Thy hand from golden censers first shall strew
The fragrant incense. O'er that threshold thou
Shalt life and blessing once again dispense,
The curse atone, and all thy kindred grace
With the fresh bloom of renovated life.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
As doth the flower revolve to meet the sun,
Once more my spirit to sweet comfort turns,
Struck by thy words' invigorating ray.
How dear the counsel of a present friend,
Lacking whose godlike power, the lonely one
In silence droops! for, lock'd within his breast,
Slowly are ripen'd purpose and resolve,
Which friendship's genial warmth had soon matur'd.
 

PYLADES

 
Farewell! I haste to re-assure our friends,
Who anxiously await us: then with speed
I will return, and, hid within the brake,
Attend thy signal.—Wherefore, all at once,
Doth anxious thought o'ercloud thy brow serene?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Forgive me! As light clouds athwart the sun,
So cares and fears float darkling o'er my soul.
 

PYLADES

 
Oh, banish fear! With danger it hath form'd
A close alliance,—they are constant friends.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
It is an honest scruple, which forbids
That I should cunningly deceive the king,
And plunder him who was my second father.
 

PYLADES

 
Him thou dost fly, who would have slain thy brother.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
To me, at least, he hath been ever kind.
 

PYLADES

 
What Fate commands is not ingratitude.
IPHIGENIA
Alas! it still remains ingratitude;
Necessity alone can justify it.
 

PYLADES

 
Thee, before gods and men, it justifies.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
But my own heart is still unsatisfied.
 

PYLADES

 
Scruples too rigid are a cloak for pride.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
I cannot argue, I can only feel.
 

PYLADES

 
Conscious of right, thou shouldst respect thyself.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Then only doth the heart know perfect ease.
When not a stain pollutes it.
 

PYLADES

 
                              In this fane
Pure hast thou kept thy heart. Life teaches us
To be less strict with others and ourselves;
Thou'lt learn the lesson too. So wonderful
Is human nature, and its varied ties
Are so involv'd and complicate, that none
May hope to keep his inmost spirit pure,
And walk without perplexity through life.
Nor are we call'd upon to judge ourselves;
With circumspection to pursue his path,
Is the immediate duty of a man;
For seldom can he rightly estimate,
Of his past conduct or his present deeds.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Almost thou dost persuade me to consent.
 

PYLADES

 
Needs there persuasion when no choice is granted?
To save thyself, thy brother, and a friend,
One path presents itself, and canst thou ask
If we shall follow it?
 

IPHIGENIA

 
                   Still let me pause,
For such injustice thou couldst not thyself
Calmly return for benefits receiv'd.
 

PYLADES

 
If we should perish, bitter self-reproach,
Forerunner of despair, will be thy portion.
It seems thou art not used to suffer much,
when, to escape so great calamity,
Thou canst refuse to utter one false word.
 

IPHIGENIA

 
Oh, that I bore within a manly heart!
Which, when it hath conceiv'd a bold resolve,
'Gainst every other voice doth close itself.
 

PYLADES

 
In vain thou dost refuse; with iron hand
Necessity commands; her stern decree
Is law supreme, to which the gods themselves
Must yield submission. In dread silence rules
The uncounsell'd sister of eternal fate.
What she appoints thee to endure,—endure;
What to perform,—perform. The rest thou knowest.
Ere long I will return, and then receive
The seal of safety from thy sacred hand.
 

SCENE V

IPHIGENIA (alone)

 
I must obey him, for I see my friends
Beset with peril. Yet my own sad fate
Doth with increasing anguish move my heart.
May I no longer feed the silent hope
Which in my solitude I fondly cherish'd?
Shall the dire curse eternally endure?
And shall our fated race ne'er rise again
With blessings crown'd?—All mortal things decay—
The noblest powers, the purest joys of life
At length subside: then wherefore not the curse?
And have I vainly hoped that, guarded here,
Secluded from the fortunes of my race,
I, with pure heart and hands, some future day
Might cleanse the deep defilement of our house?
Scarce was my brother in my circling arms
From raging madness suddenly restor'd,
Scarce had the ship, long pray'd for, near'd the strand
Once more to waft me to my native shores,
When unrelenting Fate, with iron hand,
A double crime enjoins; commanding me
To steal the image, sacred and rever'd,
Confided to my care, and him deceive
To whom I owe my life and destiny.
Let not abhorrence spring within my heart!
Nor the old Titan's hate, toward you, ye gods
Infix its vulture talons in my breast!
Save me and save your image in my soul!
An ancient song comes back upon mine ear—
I had forgotten it, and willingly—
The Parcæ's song, which horribly they sang,
What time, hurl'd headlong from his golden seat,
Fell Tantalus. They with their noble friend
Keen anguish suffer'd; savage was their breast
And horrible their song. In days gone by,
When we were children, oft our ancient nurse
Would sing it to us, and I mark'd it well.
  Oh, fear the immortals,
  Ye children of men!
  Eternal dominion
  They hold in their hands,
  And o'er their wide empire
  Wield absolute sway.
  Whom they have exalted
  Let him fear them most!
  Around golden tables,
  On cliffs and clouds resting
  The seats are prepar'd.
  If contest ariseth,
  The guests are hurl'd headlong,
  Disgrac'd and dishonor'd,
  To gloomy abysses,
  And, fetter'd in darkness,
  Await the vain longing
  A juster decree.
  But in feasts everlasting,
  Around the gold tables
  Still dwell the immortals.
  From mountain to mountain
  They stride; while ascending
  From fathomless chasms
  The breath of the Titans,
  Half-stifled with anguish,
  Like volumes of incense
  Fumes up to the skies.
  From races ill-fated,
  Their-aspect joy-bringing,
  Oft turn the celestials,
  And shun in the children
  To gaze on the features
  Once lov'd and still speaking
  Of their mighty sire.
  So chanted the Parcae;
  The banish'd one hearkens
  The song, the hoar captive
  Immur'd in his dungeon,
  His children's doom ponders,
  And boweth his head.