IPHIGENIA. A TRAGEDY, Acted at the THEATRE IN LITTLE LINCOLNS-INN-FIELDS.  Si quando aliquod officium existit amici in periculis adeundis aut communicandis, quis est qui id non maximis efferat laudibus. Cic. de Amic. 
By Mr DENNIS.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Parker, at the Unicorn under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange in Cornhill. 1700.   

Dramatis Personae.  

MEN.  
Orestes, King of Mycenae.  
Pylades, A Grecian Prince, his Friend.  
Helymus Two Grecians, attendant on the Princes.  
Diores. Two Grecians, attendant on the Princes.  
Two Scythian Captains.  
Messengers.  
Ma Betterton.  
Mr Williams.   

WOMEN.  
Queen of the Scythians.  
Iphigenia.  
Euphrosyne, a Grecian Lady, Confident to Iphigenia.  
Delia, another Grecian Lady, Priestess of Diana Taurica.  
Priests and Priestesses.  
Mrs Barry.  
Mrs Bracegirdle.  
Mrs Martin.   
SCENE, A Wild Country on the top of a Mountain before the Temple of Diana Taurica.   

To my Worthy Friend Mr JOHN FREEMAN.  
SIR,  
O Rests, upon his arrival from Greece, is drawn by sympathy to take up his station with so good a Friend as you are. He could perhaps have made a choice that the world would have esteemed more preferable and more illustrious. But, he judges not as the world judges. The Title of Friend is to him more attractive than any in the Court of Honour; nay, he esteems it too more glorious. Virtue, Good Sense and Greatness of mind are required to make a Friend; and wherever he meets with those qualities he finds true Nobility. In you, indeed, he makes choice of a Person who derives no glorious Title from his Father, but who inherits from him the truest Honour, that of an unblemished Character, the Character of an upright frank, understanding, sincere man. One who has greatness of mind enough to know that he was not born for himself, and who loves Mankind, the noble community, of which he was made a member. One who is constantly true to himself, and constantly just to others, and always easy both to himself and others, agreeable to Strangers, dear to his Friends, and good to his very Enemies. As such he visits you, assured beforehand of his kind Reception, though more upon the account of his generous friendship, than any other merit he brings. I am,  
SIR, Your most obliged Humble Servant, John Dennis.   

PREFACE.  
MY chief design in writing the following Poem was to contribute my Mite towards the being serviceable to the public. And I thought I could not do that more effectually than by endeavouring to inflame the Minds of an Audience with the Love of so noble a Virtue as Friendship. For all Communities owe their prosperity to their being united amongst themselves, and derive their ruin from Faction and Intestine Discord. The misfortunes of England have always happened from particular persons loving themselves too much, and others too little, and taking too little care of the public, and too much of themselves. He who is generous enough to love his Friend, has greatness of mind enough to serve his Country: The Virtues have always been inseparable, and never was there an excellent Friend, but he was a good Patriot.  
The subject that I chose in order to my design has been handled by several; yet the Fable or Plot is entirely my own. I consider, that the Writing of good Verses may make a man a good Versifyer, but 'tis the forming a Fable alone, that can make a Poet. I therefore handled it with all the Care, and with all the Art which I was capable of bestowing on it; I chiefly took care to form it as regularly as possibly I could, that is, as Reasonably, as Decently, as Greatly, and as Virtuously; and to make it more agreeable, I endeavoured to reconcile Variety to Regularity: For Irregularity in the Drama, like Irregularity in Life, is downright extra vagance, and extravagance both upon the Stage, and in the World is always either Vice or Folly, and is often both.  
At the same time I am far from thinking that any observation of the Rules can make amends for want of Genius, I have the lesson of my Master too constantly in my mind, to be guilty of such a mistake.  
Ego nec Studium sine divite vena,  
Nec rude quid prosit video ingenium alterius sic  
Altere poscit opem res & conjurat amice.  
Here we see it is the opinion of Horace that the Rules signify nothing without Genius; but here we see it is his opinion too that Genius signifies nothing without the Rules. Milton as to this latter point was exactly of Horace's mind. Milton, who is perhaps the greatest Genius that has appeared in the world for these seventeen hundred years, declares that Genius without the Rules is despicable. In the little Treatise of Education which he has writ to Mr Hartlib, he tells him that he would have his young Students learn something of Poetry. I mean not (says he) the prosody of a Verse, but that sublime art which in Aristotle's Poeticks, in Horace, etc. teaches what the laws are of a true Epic Poem, what of a Dramatic, what of a Lyric, what Decorum is, which is the grand Masterpiece to observe. This would make them soon perceive what despicable Creatures our common Rhymers and Play-Writers are, and show them what Religious, what Glorious and Magnificent use might be made of Poetry, both in Divine and in Humane things.  
That the present Tragedy is more Regular than most of our Tragedies are, I have some grounds to believe. Whether there is in it what is required on the account of Genius, must be determined by the knowing Impartial Reader; that is, whether the Passions are touched, whether the Expressions are worthy of the Passions, and whether there reigns throughout it that majestic Sadness which makes the pleasure of Tragedy.  
For I declare here solemnly that it was never my intention to satisfy those who expect to be entertained with what they call fine things; I know a great deal better what the nature of my Art and the simplicity of the Drama demands, than to leave what the necessity of the action requires, whose vehement motion alone can inflame an audience, and hunt for Impertinent Common-place Wit. As often as I write I shall endeavour to adapt my Sentiments to my Characters and to my Incidents, and make my Expressions fit for my Sentiments, and abandon all fine reflections to be written by half Wits, and approved of by half Critics. But to return to the Rules from which I digressed; I had not said so much of them, but that I find it is the daily practice of our Empirics in Poetry to turn our two Theatres into downright Mountebanks Stages, to treat Aristotle and Horace with as contemptuous arrogance, as our Medicinal Quacks do Galen and the great Hypocrates; and to endeavour to make the Rules, that is, Nature and Right Reason, as ridiculous and contemptible as the Rules have made their Writings.  
The subject of the following Tragedy has always been esteemed so noble, that it has prevailed upon the Writers of several Ages, and of several Nations to entertain the public with it. It was lately brought upon the French Stage by one Monsieur de la Grange, and, as he tells us in his Preface, with extraordinary success. Tho he seems to me to have treated this subject without Force and without Art, yet I am very apt to believe him, because its greatness might very well sustain it. It was brought upon the Roman Stage by Pacuvius about the time of the great Scipio: And we find from the little Treatise that Cicero has left us of Friendship, the wonderful effect that that Tragedy had upon the minds of the Romans. Qui clamoris (says Lelius in that Treatise) tota cavea nuper, hospitis & Amici mei Marci Pacuvii fuerunt in nova fabula, cum ignorante rege uter eorum esset Orestes, Pylades Orestem se esse diceret ut pro illo necaretur; Orestes autem, ita ut erat, Orestem se esse perseveraret? What shouts of applause ran lately through the whole Pit at the new Play of my Guest and Friend Pacuvius; when the King inquiring which was Orestes, Pylades affirmed it was he, that he might be sacrificed in his stead; but Orestes persevered in the contrary. About four hundred years before that, and above two thousand years before our time, it was brought upon the Athenian Stage by Euripides; and the Athenians, who were certainly the most ingenious, and most delicate people that ever were in the world, were not only charmed, but ravished with it. Aristotle, who in his little Treatise of Poetry drew his Rules from his constant observation of what had succeeded upon the Athenian Stage, is every where in that Treatise speaking of the Iphigenia in Tauris. He gives himself the trouble of laying down the general Plan of it: He commends the Discovery of Iphigenia to Orestes. He extols the incidents, as admirably contrived for exciting Compassion and Terror. In short, he is every where speaking of that Tragedy and the Oedipus of Sophocles. These considerations gave me encouragement to try how it would do upon our English Theatre: And from the first representations I expected all the success that I could reasonably desire, I never in my life at any Play took notice of a more strict attention, or a more profound silence. And there was something like what happened at the Representation of Pacuvius his Tragedy. For upon Orestes discovering his passion to Iphigenia in the fourth Act, there ran a general murmur through the Pit, which is what I had never seen before. But after three or four representations, several people, who during that time had wholly abandoned themselves to the Impression which Nature had made on them, began to study how to be discontented by Art; and repented heartily at having been pleased with what Athens and Rome and Paris had been pleased before. But if they answer, that they were displeased at my defects, and not at those beauties which so justly pleased the Ancients, and which please the Moderns; to that I reply, that by universal confession they were more touched by the fourth and fifth Acts than they were by the second. Now the fourth and fifth Acts are entirely my own, and the second is almost entirely Euripides. Yet this very▪ Act made little impression on them after the first representations. Is it that they were resolved all at once to set up for being more Refined than the French, more Discerning than the Romans, and more Delicate than the Athenians! I desire them to consider what approbations they have here of late given, and what approbations they have been forced to retract, and then they may answer the question.  
Of all the Objections which have been made, but two appear to me to be of any moment. The first relates to the first Scene of the Play, which objection is universal; and therefore must be solid. The second belongs to the last Scene of the Play, and has been made by persons of extraordinary merit, and who have a hundred great qualities, of which their exalted Rank and exalted Birth are the least. The objection is this, That Orestes upon discovering Iphigenia to be his Sister shows too much joy for a Lover. But I desire them, with all the profound Respect that is due to them, that I may say three words in my Defence, and desire that they would not upon a transient reflection condemn me for a thing which I have been considering for a year. A person of Orestes' 〈…〉 may very well be supposed to love his Mistress 〈…〉 own sake: And how very natural is it 〈…〉 of grief, into which the sight of her 〈…〉 thrown him, a Danger by him believed unavoidable, should be turned into Impetuous transports of Joy upon the first view of her Deliverance? He saw very well that this Discovery was the only thing that could have delivered her, unless he would have parted with his Honour to save her. Besides, he had from the very beginning esteemed and admired the Queen, as he declares in the third Act. She had twice in one day given him his Life and his Liberty, to which she had added his Friend's Life and Liberty; she had given him the disposal of herself and her Subjects, and bestowed an Empire on him. And what Impression must not such Generosity make upon the soul of a generous man? And how far might it not go, upon a discovery that must immediately cool the violence of his former love into the calmness of fraternal affection? Besides, consider the circumstances of that astonishing Discovery. A young Princess, whom he and all Greece believed to have been inhumanely murdered at the Altar of Diana in Aulis, a Princess who had been at ten years of age the admiration of her Country, the joy of her Relations, and the darling of the Prince her Brother; a Princess, whose unfortunate Beauty and untimely Fate all Greece with him had lamented, and looked on it as one of the deplorable deeds, Hereditary to the Race of Tantalus: this very Princess was twelve years after beyond all expectation, beyond all hope, and almost beyond all belief, discovered by this very Brother to be alive in Tauris, and discovered in the wonderful moment, in which that very discovery saved her from perishing in so remote a Country, at the Altar of the same Goddess. Judge if such an astonishing discovery as this could have had any other effect in nature upon the mind of Orestes, than what I have given it in this Tragedy? A discovery, which not only saved his dearest Sister, and made happy his dearest Friend, but reconciled him perfectly to the Queen, obliged her to abandon the fatal Image to him, and so fulfilled the command of Heaven, and appeased the Infernal Powers, and restored him to his former tranquillity.  
Thus I have endeavoured as briefly as I could to answer this objection, out of respect to the persons who made it. For the rest I leave them to be answered by the Reader. If they are solid, nothing that I can say can o'erthrow them, and if they are not founded on Reason, they will be sure to fall of themselves. For all opinions are sure to change, and prejudice and malice are sure to die; only Reason is always the same, and only Truth is immortal.  
The general success of the following Poem has been neither dispicable nor extraordinary. I have pleased those whom I desired to please, and the rest will one day follow. But let the Writers value themselves upon Fortune, who have nothing else to rely on. To which of her scribbling Favourites has she not been kind, has she not been coming? But short have been her fantastic favours, her affections fleeting, and general contempt, a terrible reverse, has followed. 'Tis my Ambition to owe my Success to Reason, and not to Chance, to please the most judicious and the best of men, and so to please for ever.   

PROLOGUE  Spoke by Mr Verbruggen. The Genius of England rises to a Warlike Symphony. 
SEe, Britt●●, see, before your ravished eyes,  
See England's lofty Guardian Genius rise.  
Admiring see that formidable mien,  
That is by Gods with veneration seen;  
That from great Neptune due Respect can draw,  
And keep the watery trembling world in awe.  
ay, who your Souls with all that s great inspire,  
With soaring thoughts, and each sublime desire;  
'Tis I, my Britons, who vouchsafe t' appear,  
And. 〈…〉 God like Sons assembled here.  
And 〈…〉 set you assembled all,  
At 〈…〉 of my Majestic call.  
〈…〉 the Tragic Muse I have led,  
Who had 〈◊〉 rolling Moons been from you fled,  
Forlorn, forsaken, the Celestial Maid  
In Solitudes disconsolated strayed:  
Wild as a Bacchanal I saw her rove,  
This 〈◊〉 Child of Memory and Jove.  
Her once victorious eye now looked Despair,  
With miserable cries she rent the air,  
Beat her Immortal Breasts, and tore her golden Hair.  
Am I by all forsaken then! said she.  
Oh is my Britain fallen to that degree,  
As for effeminate Arts t' abandon me?  
I left the enslaved Italian with disdain,  
And servile Gallia, and dejected Spain:  
Grew proud to be confined to Brittain's shore,  
Where Godlike Liberty had fixed before;  
Where Liberty thrives most, I most can soar.  
Once more I thought t' inspire Athenian flights,  
And once more towr to Sophoclean heights.  
But oh, she cried, I feel a Ruder care,  
And I have changed Ambition for Despair.  
Here Song and Dance, and every Trifle reigni,  
And leaves no room for my exalted strains.  
Those Arts now rule that softened foreign Br●●es,  
And sunk the Southern Nations into Slaves.  
This said the Muse, my Britons, against you:  
Oh Supreme Jove! And 〈…〉  
It is; so wanton are you 〈…〉  
That my Degenerate Sons I have 〈…〉  
Or what is worse, ye 〈…〉  
Oh what would my 〈…〉  
Or Edward's Soul returning 〈…〉  
To see a Bearded more 〈…〉  
Dissolved and dying by 〈…〉  
To give you wholesome 〈…〉  
With me the Tragic 〈…〉  
To your soft neighbours 〈…〉  
But listen you to ●●● great 〈…〉  
'Tis true, the 〈…〉  
But what can weaken our 〈…〉  
Where cannot we exert our 〈…〉  
Yet from his mortal voice 〈…〉  
Whatever in the following Scene 〈…〉  
whate'er may from 〈…〉  
That's his, from that 〈…〉  
But to what's ours 〈…〉  
And ours is all that's brave and 〈…〉  
And which can raising 〈…〉  
Friendship's the virtue which we 〈…〉  
He makes a Patriot too who makes a 〈…〉  
Who freely for his Friend resigns his 〈…〉  
Would for his Country meet a glorious 〈◊〉  
With silent awe, my Britons than attend,  
View the great Action of a Grecian Friend,  
And learn degenerate 〈◊〉 thoughts t' amend.  
From Grecian fire let English hearts take flame,  
And grow deserving of that noble name▪  
For not the boundless Main which I control,  
●●n so delight my Eyes or charm my Soul,  
As I am pleased when my brave Sons I see  
Worthy of Godlike Liberty and me:  He sinks to the same Symphony that he rose  
IPHIGENIA.  

ACT I. Storm.  Iphigenia. Euphrosyne. Iph. 
DEfend me, great Diana!  
Defend thy Iphigenia, thou bright Goddess,  
The wretched Servant of whose cruel rites  
Before thy Sacred Temple here I stand!  
A Storm so dreadful my eyes ne'er beheld,  
Not even in this accursed Scythian Climate,  
O'er which the furious God of War presiding,  
The restless 〈…〉 and the outrageous elements  
All 〈…〉 War.  Euph. 
〈…〉 something surely above Nature in it.  Iph. 
〈…〉 Storm's so terrible to us,  
How must it look, alas, to those poor Souls,  
With conquering Death conflicting on the Main!  
Look there Euphrosine's a fight will melt  
Thy pitying heart within thy tender bosom;  
See, in the mouth of this tempestuous Bay,  
Upon the Sommet of whose horrid Cliffs  
This threatning Fabric stands,  
Yond goodly Vessel, of a foreign make,  
No Pilot to conduct it but the Tempest,  
Before the foaming surges bounds along.  Euph. 
Bless me, ye powers! what god can save them sinking?  
Should they scape foundering in the wild Abyss,  
Anon they run amain upon the Rocks  
Of this inhospitable shore.  Iph. 
Or if by wondrous chance they avoid those Rocks,  
Something more dangerous than the Rocks or Seas,  
And rougher than the rudest of the Winds  
Attends them on the shore.  Euph. 
If they are caught on Scythian ground they die,  
And fall the Victims of these dreadful Altars.  Iph. 
They die, but by whose hands, Euphrosyne?  
Ah miserable me! Tho in this place  
The men are more relentless than the Rocks,  
Yet here are always Women to be found  
More savage than the cruelest of their men.  Enter Messenger. 
Whence art thou? And to whom?  Mess. 
From you uncultivated Eastern Plain,  
O'er which our Roving Scythians drive  
Their wandering Habitations,  
Our warlike Queen has sent me to demand,  
If all things are prepared to solemnize  
Our great Diana's Annual Festival.  Iph. 
Tell her they are.  
The Garlands are prepared the Victim's crowned,  
The Sacred Pomp of the Procession's ready,  
And nothing but the Queen herself is wanting;  
For now the night, the fatal hour approaches.  Mess. 
I fly to let her know it.  Exit. Iph. 
Ah woe, Euphrosyne! But yesterday.  
This fatal office was conferred upon me,  
Which to refuse had brought me certain Death,  
And yet this night already I must— heavens'!  
My Blood runs i'll within me, at the thought  
Of executing this most horrid office.  Euph. 
Yes, you're to plunge your Knife in human Blood;  
But 'tis the Blood of Strangers.  
Were you to offer up your darling Child,  
Or to imbrue your Hands in the dear Blood  
Of one who loved you, and was beloved by you,  
How then would your poor trembling Heart recoil  
At the bare thought of such a dreadful office!  
Yet, Iphigenia from a Race descends,  
To which from Tantalus to Agamemnon,  
Those dismal deeds have been but too familiar;  
You sacrifice a Stranger to Diana,  
Remember that your Father Agamemnon  
A Daughter would have sacrificed.  Iph. 
O dire Original of all my woe!  
Why, my Euphrosyne, wouldst thou remind me of it?  
To that intention of a cruel Father  
I owe a tedious twelve years' misery;  
I owe a tedious twelve years' residence  
In this sad Clime, where heavens' inclemency  
Frowns all the year upon the Horrid Natives.  
Where I must linger out a wretched life,  
Far from my Country, and my dear Relations,  
Far from the sweet society of Ladies,  
Whose Souls with every Grace and Virtue fraught,  
Alone can by their Conversation give  
Insipid life a Relish.  
'Tis now five years since the last wretched Grecian  
Was thrown upon this Coast, and I alas  
Am utterly a stranger to whate'er  
Has happened to my Country and my Friends;  
Only last night, last fearful night, Orestes,  
My only Brother, and the second hope  
Of Royal Agamemnon's High born Race,  
Broke my distracted slumbers with dire Visions,  
That quite dismayed my Soul; my very Dreams  
All in this place, are like the Natives, dreadful.  Euph. 
However, you exclaim against those Natives,  
To you, they are less barbarous than your Grecians,  
And far more gentle than a cruel Father.  
To them you owe your Liberty, your Honour,  
To them too next the Gods you owe the punishment  
Of a cursed Slaves design upon them both▪  
When for 〈◊〉 space of three revolving Moons▪  
The Grecian Fleet had windbound lain at Aulis,  
And great Achilles' longing lay, impatient  
To urge the Trojan Fate;  
Calchas aloud proclaimed throughout the Army  
That the offended Gods denied the Winds,  
Till that the King of Kings, who stood obliged  
By an old Vow, to offer to Lucina  
The loveliest product of the fertile year,  
Should sacrifice his Beauteous Iphigenia.  Iph. 
Why wilt thou old Calamities renew?  Euph. 
To reconcile you more to your misfortune,  
And show you what great things the Gods have done for you,  
Tho you ungratefully repine, the King  
By damnable Ambition urged, consented  
To what the Camp with one accord demanded,  
And make your Marriage with the great Achilles,  
The subtle lure to draw you down from Argos▪  Iph. 
The fraud of Calchas and of dire Ulysses!  
False fatal Marriage▪  Euph. 
And though true, untimely,  
Scarce had ten Springs then bloomed upon your Cheek,  
And yet your tender Mother Clytaemnestra,  
Betrayed and flattered by the hope of seeing  
Your Destiny united to a Hero's,  
And such a Hero from a Goddess sprung  
Too soon consented to the fatal Journey.  Iph. 
I would not hear the rest.  Euph. 
You must; at Aulis  
The subtle Clytaemnestra found the Cheat,  
Then like a Raging Lioness, whose young  
Some desperate Hunter in the Toils entangles,  
Your Raving Mother soon dismayed your Father,  
Flew to his Tent with Fury in her Soul  
And Terror in her Eyes, stormed, wept, prayed, shrieked,  
Till she at last prevailed on his hard heart;  
So far she shook his fainting resolution.  Iph. 
What canst thou mean by this sad repetition  
Of what I would not hear?  Euph. 
Once more, I tell you,  
To reconcile you to your Scythian Fate:  
For to that strange degree you were undone,  
That only Scythia's shore could have preserved you  
From a worse Fate than that from which you fled:  
For after that your Mother had prevailed  
Upon your Father to retract your Destiny,  
It was determined that at dead of night  
You should by stealth from Aulis be conveyed,  
To Thracian Polimnestor's Court,  
There to remain concealed till the event  
Of that famed Expedition:  
And that a Lesbian Slave in shape and size,  
And age resembling yours,  
In a long Veil should die for Iphigenia;  
So you escaped, and so all Greece was cheated.  Iph. 
Unfortunate escape! for that which follows  
Was ten times worse than Death, and barely mentioned  
Strikes to my Heart like Fate, and shakes my Nature.  Euph. 
Yet I must on; your peace of mind depends on it.  
That day it happened that there came to Aulis  
A Master of a Vessel in his Boat,  
Whose Ship lay out some leagues at Sea,  
Being bound for the Propontis:  
The Master was by Birth of Tomos;  
The Country where the Isther  
Itself at all it's seven wide mouths  
Discharges in the Euxine.  
To him you were delivered, with large Treasures,  
And six small Virgins of your Train, of which  
My wretched self was one:  
To be conveyed to Thracian Polimnestor:  
With him we at the Ship arrived, and sailed:  
But then that Beauty, which at Land had made you  
The most unfortunate of women.  
Had like to have proved more fatal on the Main;  
For fired by that, and by the Treasure tempted,  
The Captain passed by Thrace and the Propontis,  
Designing to transport us all to Tomos.  Iph. 
Oh the Villain!  Euph. 
As soon as in the Euxine, all the world  
Appeared to be composed but of two Elements;  
The desperate Caitiff made a damned attempt;  
We helpless wretches shrieked to Heaven for succour,  
When straight upon the wings of all the winds  
Th' avenging Gods flew down from Heaven to Rescue us,  
Jove gave th' alarm to Nature, straight the Thunder  
From different quarters roared, and the Blue Lightning  
Thwarted the Lightning in its slanting flight;  
The Sea Gods in a moment turned the Seas  
Up from their deep Foundation.  
They roaring out, in liquid Mountains rolled,  
With intervals of horrid Vales between them,  
While screaming Monsters echoed to our shrieks,  
Death in a thousand shapes at once appeared,  
And each of them amazing.  Iph. 
The very bare remembrance of that Storm  
Still strikes a thrilling Horror to my Heart,  
The terriblest I ever saw  
Before I saw this evening.  Euph. 
Yet 'twas by that that gracious Heaven preserved us;  
For now the Vessel tumbling in the Abyss,  
The King of Terrors in his dismal'st shape  
Stared in the Villain's face, and made him soon  
Desist from his cursed enterprise.  
A sharper care now seized his guilty Soul.  
Three days and night's adrift before the Storm  
We in the Deep lay rolling, on the fourth  
The Tempest wracked us on this Scythian shore;  
We straight were by the Natives seized, the Master  
And all his Crew, the Crew of guilty wretches  
Who would have sacrificed our spotless Honours  
To their infernal lusts, that very night  
Yielded their throats at great Diana's Altars.  
We were preserved, and constituted part  
Of the bright train attendant on the Goddess.  Iph. 
See, thou hast talked this▪ Tempest over too;  
But ah the goodly Ship is seen no more,  
And all the wretches in its hollow womb  
Are perished in the waves; and now alas  
The Elements seem reconciled, and now  
The angry Ocean sinks into a Calm,  
As if it like a Hungry Lion roared  
But for its prey, and were by that appeased.  
But look, Euphrosyne, what two are those  
Who with such friendly care assist each other  
To climb the craggy steepness of the Cliff,  
While two at distance with unequal pace  
Pursuing, pant behind them?  Euph. 
The wretched Remnants of the Wreck,  
Who come to perish here.  Iph. 
Strangers they by their garb appear, and Grecians;  
With what laborious toil they mount,  
And ever and anon  
They stop, and cast an eager eye  
Towards these tremendous Altars!  Euph. 
The foremost wears affliction in his aspect,  
And the black Cloud that lowrs upon his Brow  
Seems to declare strange wretchedness of sorrow.  Iph. 
Yet sorrow on his Brow majestic sits,  
And shows that from no common cause it springs.  
His mien seems earnest, and his looks profound,  
Like one upon important business bent.  
Ah wretch! if thou art by our Scythians seen,  
Thy business is to die.  
But let's retire, and let th' Attendants bar  
These massy Gates, for lo they come, Euphrosyne.  Enter Orestes, Pylades, Helymus, Diores. Euph. 
Shall we alarm the Guards?  Iph. 
Not for thy life.  
My first request to great Diana, is,  
That I may ne'er perform this cruel function:  
For that which Reason utterly abhors  
Can ne'er be acceptable to Divinity.  
But if I am compelled by these Barbarians  
To do a deed which most my Soul abhors,  
Let the Slaves destined for the Altar, bleed:  
But spare your Images, ye powers above,  
In those two Godlike Youths.  Exeunt Iph. Euph. Or. 
You Helymus, and you Diores,  
Keep exact watch upon your several posts,  
If we are caught on Scythian ground we die.  Ex. Hel. Di. 
I fear not for myself, why should a wretch  
That groans beneath intolerable woe,  
Fear Death, his kind Redeemer?  
But for my Friend, my Pylades,  
I cannot choose but fear.  Pil. 
I cannot fear with my Orestes near me,  
Not even for Orestes?  Or. 
Alas, you need not fear for me,  
I am so exquisitely miserable  
That Death will long avoid me;  
A wretch that labours with a world of woe;  
By all but my Pylades forsaken,  
By Gods and men forsaken,  
And by the formidable Furies haunted.  Pil. 
Now your long miseries must cease, take comfort,  
The Delphic God has said it.  
This is the Temple of the Dreadful Goddess,  
Whose cruel Altars smoke with Human gore,  
If we her Image can transport to Athens  
Your woes are at an end.  
So said Divine Apollo.  Or. 
See, where that Image sits, enthroned in Horror,  
And on the Bloody Battlements behold  
The spoils of murdered Grecians.  
The dreadful Gates are barred,  
And the high Walls prohibit all access.  
May we not justly then suspect this Oracle?  
For how can we approach this fatal Image,  
Or how can we transport it?  Pil. 
When we despair,  
Great Love shall crown our action with success,  
And from the Dangers of the place deliver us.  
So said the God, upon our Virtue then,  
Upon our Friendship firmly let's depend,  
Immortal Love ne'er stirs a moment from us.  Or. 
Above the world, I swear I love my Pylades.  
Then let us to the Ship retire,  
That lies among the Rocks concealed,  
And with the advantage of approaching night,  
Sally with all our Friends,  
Surprise and force the place.  Enter Helymus, and after him Diores. 
How now? what means that ghastly look!  
Hast thou too seen the Furies? Why stand'st thou speechless?  
What means that deep fetched groan? Why does Despair  
Stare thro' thy haggard eyes?  Hel. 
My Lords defend yourselves.  
For from the Brow of yonder neighbouring Hill  
A party of the Scythians have surprised me;  
Their reinless Steeds come scouring down the Mountain  
As they had Wings, and seem to bend their course  
Directly towards the Temple.  Or. 
It is enough, my Pylades retire,  
In the good Ship thy refuge quickly take,  
While I with Helymus and good Diores  
Keep these inhuman Dogs that hunt for Blood at bay.  Pil. 
Had I made that Request to my Orestes▪  
By Heaven I ne'er should have forgiven myself,  
Because Orestes ne'er could have forgiven me.  
Should Pylades have asked his only friend  
To be so false, so infinitely base  
As to desert him; one day I must die,  
That is most certain, and who knows how poorly,  
How like the base born vulgar?  
Could I have ever wished to have fallen more nobly,  
Than fighting, dying for my Dear Orestes?  
How should a Friend expire but with his Friend?  
And not when Death has seized his nobler part  
Drag a half wretched paralytic life,  
His own forlorn Survivor.  
Why wouldst thou then unkindly thus deprive me  
Of such a Death as I should envy thee?  
Then as we have lived, let us embracing die.  
Now let them come. Had they attacked me only,  
I would have given my wretched Breast to them,  
That groans beneath th' intolerable weight  
Of never ceasing woe.  
But since through mine they seek the life of Pylades,  
By Castor, and the friendly God his Brother,  
They'll find they safelier might have undertaken  
To have rousd the Hungry Monarch of the Woods,  
While slumbering o'er his young.  Enter Queen of the Scythians, and Train. Queen. 
Give orders that the Horse remain at distance,  
Let these on foot attend me to the Temple,  
There's something sad in my foreboding mind  
Times unbecoming of this pompous Festival.  
〈◊〉 night, when Deathlike Sleep had seized on Mortals,  
In the dread hour to silent Horror sacred,  
This in the Visions of the Dark I saw,  
The Writings of th' Apartment where I lay  
Flew open with a Whirlwinds violent blast,  
And to my eyes appeared th' amazing form  
Of 〈…〉 Goddess.  
With 〈…〉 her head 〈…〉  
Her 〈…〉 wrathful frown 〈…〉,  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 the Fates Agreed.  
She 〈…〉 Dreams are Dreams,  
All 〈…〉 great Souls,  
And I will think no more of it.  Seeing the Grecians. 
Ha! 〈…〉 with Arms unlicenced,  
And 〈…〉  
〈…〉 that calls me Sovereign!  Or. 
〈…〉 at us, we are men,  
And 〈…〉 ne'er saw before.  Queen. 
Yes, I'm a woman, born to command men.  Pil. 
No, to command Barbarians, we are Grecians  Queen. 
By your exalted Speech and touring Meins,  
I took you to be Gods;  
But if you're Grecians, we shall find you mortal:  
For if you're Grecians, know that you must die.  Or. 
Then know that we resolve to die like Grecians,  
Like two who know that we were born to die.  Pil. 
That every brave man's business is to die.  Or. 
Th' Employment of your Scythians is to kill,  
But the whole business of a Grecians life  
Is like himself to die.  Pil. 
For Death is only certain, all things else  
Depend on Fortune's Arbitrary freak,  
And may or may not happen, Death is Fate's,  
And only sure and common to us all.  Queen. 
Gods how they talk! I'll see what they can do  
Fall on.  Or. 
Now the two friendly Brother Gods assist us.  They beat off the Scythians. Queen. 
Gods! what have I beheld? with what a fury  
They drove my Dastard Scythians all before the●  
As Whirlwinds drive the D●●●●.  
Protect me, great 〈…〉!  
Orestes, P●l●●●s▪ Helymus Di●●●s 〈…〉  Or. 
Now Madam you may see, that th● we 〈…〉  
Grecians, are yet as far after your 〈…〉  
As they're below the gods▪ But you are 〈…〉  
Expecting we should 〈…〉  
Because your 〈…〉  
But we are able to 〈…〉  
The high prerogative 〈…〉  
Your Subjects, as by 〈…〉 they 〈…〉  
In all their Combat 〈…〉  
Greatness of mind excited 〈…〉  
Who conquers only to 〈…〉  
And to improve the vanquished.  
That you shall see, your life, your 〈…〉  
Your sceptre's yours once more; 〈…〉  
To show more mercy to unhappy 〈…〉.  
Farewell.  Queen. 
Gods! Have I lived to hear such 〈…〉  
'Tis not the easy Conquers they obtained  
That mortifies my pride; what's 〈…〉  
I have a greatness of my own, a greatness  
Immortal, like my Soul in which it dwells,  
And ne'er can suffer by my Subject's business.  
But this is what torments me, I have heard,  
Gods! I have heard them say such things, as shows  
They who pronounced them thought they were to me  
Superior beings; but by Heaven once more  
I'll have them in my power, and then I'll show them—  Re enter Scythians. 
Oh! are you then returned at last? you wretches!  
What can you think yourselves that you deserve?  
When twenty of you, with true Scythian Scimitars,  
Fled from four Grecian Swords.  1 Scyth. 
Pardon, great Queen, we fled not from their Swords,  
Their eyes had something more than mortal in them;  
We could not bear their darting beams, which shot  
Pernicious Fire thro' all our daring Souls,  
That in a moment blasted all our vigour.  Queen. 
Give order, that the Horse immediately  
Fly down the Road that winds around the Cliff,  
And intercept their passage to the Sea;  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
As much as 〈…〉;  
She 〈…〉 Soul,  
A 〈…〉  
Which 〈…〉 Breath of Jove,  
And 〈…〉  
To all 〈…〉.  
〈…〉 can know thy worth,  
Nor 〈…〉, who ●o proudly  
Gave 〈…〉  
That 〈…〉 patent longs  
To pay the mighty Debt in ●ind. What then?  
Thy Conscience knows it, and Immortal Jove  
And the bright eye of you▪ Refulgent Goddess,  
That with one view sees all the world, both witness to it.  
Gods! must they then depart with little thoughts of me?  
What if they should? why should that fear disturb thee?  
'Tis a precarious greatness that depends  
On other's thoughts my own sustain my excellence.  
Why dost thou with then with such eagerness  
To have these Grecians in thy eye once more!  
What means this strange disquiet, and the fire  
Of this so wild, untractable desire?  
The end of the First Act.   

ACT II.  Iphigenia. Euphrosyne. Iph. 
HOw strangely she seemed moved in the Relation.  Euph. 
But how differently?  
Now quite transported with th' Heroic Action.  Iph. 
Then at their Victory as much 〈…〉  
And at their usage of her mortified.  Euph. 
But pleased.  Iph. 
Yet in the midst of joy disdaining to be pleased.  Euph. 
Solicitous about th' event,  
Impatient till 'tis known.  Iph. 
So uncommanding of herself  
Till now I ne'er observed her.  Euph. 
Should but her Scythians intercept the Grecians  
You'll find her show a passion still more impotent.  A distant shout. Iph. 
What dost thou mean? 'tis what her Soul desires.  
But the hoarse echo of that distant shout  
Tells us that we too long defer obedience  
To what she now commanded, that while she  
Her private Offerings paid to Great Diana,  
We should advance toward the Cliffs dreadful brow,  
From which the fearful downfall of the Precipice,  
And the wild Horrors of the Rocky Beach  
Lie subject to our view; from thence she thinks  
We something may descry.  
But ah! see there, see where the noble Strangers,  
Prostrate and groveling on the stormy Beach,  
Surrounded lie on every side by Fate.  
The murdering Scythian shouting on the one side,  
And the mad Euxin bellowing on the other,  
And blanching with its flying foam their garments.  
And now the savage crowd all pours upon them.  Shout at distance. 
And now they send up barbarous shouts to Heaven.  
Alas, they'll murder them; turn, turn Euphrosyne,  
My Soul this cruel prospect cannot bear.  Euph. 
They dare not touch them, for perhaps the Queen,  
The Queen can less endure this sight than you.  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
Tho 〈…〉 her with a mind  
Above 〈…〉 her Se●,  
Still as a woman, she 〈…〉 to Love,  
Yet Love she 〈…〉 hour▪  
For you still 〈…〉 Soul  
So much of Grecian 〈…〉, and Grecian virtue,  
That she has utterly contemned her Scythians.  
All you have said these notte youths make good,  
These 〈…〉 objects worthy her  
That 〈…〉 held, and at the sight  
Her 〈…〉 Soul took speedy fire▪  Iph. 
〈…〉: ●● meet Imagination all.  Euph. 
〈…〉 were ●● much concerned to observe her nicely,  
Else had you plainly seen her words, her gestures,  
Her mien, her eyes, and all her soul declare it.  Shout aloud. Iph. 
But hark?  
Whence the rude noise of this audacious shout,  
So near this hallowed place?  Enter Scythian. Scyth. 
Where is the Queen?  Iph. 
What wouldst thou have? the Queen is in a place  
Where for thy life thou must not dare to approach.  Scyth. 
Of the four Grecians two are now her Captives,  
And with slow solemn march are guarded towards the Temple.  Iph. 
What have I heard?  Euph. 
What are they?  Scyth. 
Grecians, we know no more.  Euph. 
Then heard you not their names?  Scith. 
Their names by strictest Oaths they enjoined each other  
Not to pronounce.  Euph. 
What numbers of you took them?  Scyth. 
We took them not by advantage of our numbers,  
But by the powerful influence of our Goddess,  
Thrice had we now without success attacked them,  
From supernatural aid they drew their safety.  
Oft Castor and his Brother they invoked,  
And some affirm these two Auxiliar Gods  
Apparently sustained them.  
Our Scythians now from neighbouring Rocks came 〈…〉  
And we a fresh and fourth attach prepared▪  
The Grecians, the two friendly Gods invoked,  
Th' avenging power of Great Diana we,  
That in the Clouds enthroned with Silver Glory,  
Illustrated the Horrors of the Combat.  
When of the Grecians, one, to our astonishment,  
Starting from out the rest in fearful manner,  
Fixed on the empty Air his staring eyes,  
He shook his Temples, and his Teeth he gnash'd,  
And then he fetched a groan that seemed to rend  
His vital Thread asunder; then like a Lyon  
He formidably roared, Dost thou not see▪  
Dost thou not see th' abominable Fiend  
Dost thou not see th' inexorable Fury?  
Look how her bloody mouth spouts purple foam,  
And her black Nostrils, cataracts of Fire!  
Gods! how her cruel eyes shoot horrors thro' my Soul▪  
Save me, y' eternal powers, for see she comes,  
The dreadful Goddess comes, and now she raves,  
And now her hissing curling Snakes erect  
Their coal black Crests, and dart their forky Tongue▪  
Do you see their odious eyes? I cannot bear them.  
Damnation! how their fiery glances sting me!  
But oh what shape, what dismal shape is that,  
That staring wide with stony eyes behind them,  
Appears more dreadful than ten thousand furies!  
Oh 'tis my—  Euph. 
What followed?  Scyth. 
The rest with hollow dying sounds,  
Imperfectly pronouncing.  
He foamed, he inward rolled his ghastly eyes,  
And groaning, down he fell entranced before us  Iph. 
Poor wretched man! how influenced this the rest?  Scyth. 
While with astonishment all eyes were fixed  
On such a dreadful, such a wondrous object;  
Two of them took the advantage of the occasion,  
And sliding in between the craggy Piles  
Of numerous Rocks environing the Bay,  
Were quickly in their winding mazes lost.  Euph. 
What did the fourth in consequence of him?  Scyth. 
He, neither fled nor fought, nor yet submitted,  
Another's danger took up all his Soul,  
Regardless of his own▪  
For now th' entranced beginning to 〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 their deadly 〈…〉;  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 the 〈…〉 wretch,  
And made 〈…〉 of his Friend.  Euph. 
〈…〉 eternal Time.  Iph. 
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 even 〈…〉 hearts▪  Scyth. 
〈…〉 but ravish them▪  
The God like deed with general shout applauding,  
Down we unanimously throw our Javelins,  
And the contention the remained,  
Was who should save the Grecians.  
Running, we gently reared them from the ground,  
And cherished him who wanted most our help;  
Till quickly we recalled his fleeting Spirit.  
Then into different Bands we all dividing,  
Some ran among the Rocks to seek the Flyers,  
And to the Temple some conduct the Captives.  
But see they now draw near.  Iph. 
Euphrosyne, inform the Queen of this,  
While I receive the Grecians.  Euph. 
Be wise, and come away.  
Why would you see a sight that would distract you?  Iph. 
I would to Heaven it would, for that distraction  
Would drown a world of woe in sweet forgetfulness;  
'Tis better surely not to know, than knowing,  
To know that we are infinitely miserable.  
But if I cannot bear these objects here,  
How shall I then endure them at the Altar?  
How shall I there approach them? how shall I there—  
Let me not think of it, that thought has Daggers in it.  Euph. 
Be wise, and come away.  Iph. 
These noble youths bring news from Greece, Euphrosyne.  
'Tis now five years since I beheld a Grecian;  
Oh how I long to hear from my dear Country.  
Besides, consider what I left in Greece.  
I left a Father there.  Euph. 
A cruel one.  Iph. 
Let him be cruel, still I am his Daughter;  
I left a Mother there, she was not cruel.  
Her very eyes were not so dear as I to her.  
I owe my very life, I owe my all,  
To her exceeding Tenderness!  
There too I left the darling of my Soul,  
The darling of my Virgin Soul, a Brother,  
On whose young Temples scarce the seventh Summer  
Had shed its golden Down.  
Can I be thought to have left all these behind,  
And to have left them all behind entirely?  
Ah no! Their Images are here, Euphrosine;  
And here remind me of the dear Originals,  
Incessantly remind me.  
There are no other objects here of tenderness  
Or none, excepting thee.  
And I, thou know'st am in my nature soft.  
Then to indulge that softness straight retire,  
And leave me here, to ask these noble youths  
After my Country and my dear Relations.  Ex. Euph. Enter Orestes. Pylades. Guard. 
Approach ye most unfortunate of men!  
Ill-fated youths, the Sons of wretched Parents!  
Wretched your Brothers, and your Sisters miserable!  Or. 
Madam, we know we are your Victims,  
And come resolved to die.  
For Souls undaunted; why this vain compassion?  
By you we bleed, and you deplore our destiny,  
If that you think by softening our firm minds  
To make death dreadful to us, you mistake us.  
To Souls prepared, such little arts are vain;  
Not all your Scythian Javelins once could daunt us,  
Nor can your Female Lamentations melt us.  
Your cruel Gods, when we approach their Altars  
Shall blush, to see two men, two dying men  
Unshaken and undaunted as themselves,  
Amidst their high security.  Iph. 
So high a mind in such a low condition!  
But from whence are you miserable men!  
How long have ye been wanderers from your Country!  
A long, long time 'twill be, ere you return to it.  Or. 
Seek not to soften us by vain inquiries,  
Nor to disturb us in our hour of Death.  Iph. 
Grecians! you are I see, but of what Province?  
I must be answered; my reasons are most urgent.  Or. 
How should our answers possibly concern you?  Iph. 
Are you Brothers?  Or. 
We are not so near as Brothers, and yet nearer.  Iph. 
Then you are Friends it seems:  
What may we call you?  Or. 
Miserable!  Iph. 
That is the name which Fortune has bestowed upon you:  
I ask not after that.  Or. 
The more we keep our names concealed  
The more we keep this shameful Fate concealed!  
This Fate so much unworthy of us.  
Tho our Hearts bleed, our Names shall never suffer.  Iph. 
Say then, what State, what City gave you Birth?  Or. 
Madam, we came resolved to die;  
And Death is now our business!  Iph. 
There's time enough, alas, for Death,  
And long you will enjoy him.  
Answer me first; oblige me so far, Grecian.  Or. 
Argos, renowned throughout the World's my Country.  Iph. 
Ha! Argos! Is it possible? O heavens'!  
Tell me the truth, I here conjure thee, Grecian.  Or. 
Within Mycaenaes' Walls I first saw light,  
Mycaenae, once the Towering Queen of Cities.  Iph. 
And yet you left it for this dismal place.  Or. 
Even so the gods would have it.  Iph. 
They're welcome Guests to me who come from Argos.  Or. 
And Death's the hearty welcome we expect.  Iph. 
Grecian, you may inform me of some things,  
Which most my impatient Soul desires to know.  Or. 
You will be answered, speak.  Iph. 
You have heard of Troy, whose Fame has filled the Universe?  Or. 
Oh, would to Jove I ne'er had heard of Troy,  
Not in my very Dreams!  Iph. 
'Tis said it now by Fate of War lies low.  Or. 
But oh severely have its Heavenly Founders  
Upon its Conquerors revenged its fall.  Iph. 
Is Helen at the last returned?  Or. 
As fatally to some of mine,  
As ever she departed.  Iph. 
She once had like t' have fatal proved to me too!  Or. 
My obligations to her are well known.  Iph. 
The common hatred of all Grecians she.  
Say, are those Grecians yet come back?  
Is Calchas yet returned?  Or. 
The lying Prophet perished on th' Aegean.  Iph. 
And Ulysses?  Or. 
A wanderer upon Earth and Sea,  
The outcast of the world▪  Iph. 
At length then halting vengeance has o'ertaken them.  
And proud Achilles! lives he?  Or. 
In Fields, where once Troy stood, his Head lies low,  
And he in vain at Aulis was contracted  
To wretched Iphigenia.  Iph. 
False fatal Marriage!  
The fraud of Calchas, and of dire Ulysses!  
aside. But run there any Rumours now in Greece,  
Touching the Fate of that unhappy Princess?  Or. 
She who was sacrificed at Aulis?  Iph. 
She.  Or. 
Alas!  
They talk of her as of a pleasing vision  
Sent down from Heaven to cheer our eyes a moment,  
And then to Re-ascend.  
But, Madam, who are you, who here inquire  
Thus circumstantially of Grecian matters?  Iph. 
I too was born in Greece, and young was torn from it.  
Should I proceed, my story is so strange,  
That it could ne'er find credit with you.  
How bears the General his high Felicity?  Or. 
What General? I am grown an utter stranger,  
Even to the very names of all the happy.  Iph. 
The King of Kings, Imperial Agamemnon.  Or. 
I cannot, will not speak, inquire no further.  Iph. 
Now by the Gods proceed, I here conjure you  
'Tis a long time since last my Soul knew comfort  Or. 
The King of Kings, is now but common clay.  Iph. 
Then are his Children wretched; say, how died he?  Or. 
Most miserably, for himself and others?  Iph. 
Alas! but, how?  Or. 
As Troy and Priam tumbled from their height,  
As all the Race of Tantalus has fallen,  
So perished Agamemnon by a Woman.  Iph. 
A wretched creature sure, whoever she be.  Or. 
She weeps, by Heaven; from whence these flowing tears?  Iph. 
I mourn, reflecting on his former happiness,  
I mourn the sad vicissitudes of Fate,  
The ills that every hour befall Mortality,  
The common sad condition of poor man▪  
My own forlorn estate. How bears the Queen?—  Or. 
Hold▪ by the Gods I here conjure you hold,  
By vain enquiry plague my Soul no more.  Iph. 
Answer this once, and I have done for ever:  
How bears the Queen this terrible disaster.  Or. 
The Queen still met a more Tremendous Destiny.  Iph. 
Dissolve me Gods into a flood of Tears.  
aside: How fell she?  Or. 
Alas, 'tis terrible, it shakes my Nature▪  
She fell by—  Iph. 
Whom?  Or. 
By the cursed wretch to whom she gave his Being.  Iph. 
By her own Son? Astonishment of woe!  
Wherefore?  Or. 
His Royal Father he revenged,  
Whom barbarously she murdered.  Iph. 
Murdered!  
O Horror upon Horror! Dismal Race,  
The true Descent of Torsalto!  
Deplorable the Crime, and dire the Vengeance!  Or. 
And direly have the Gods repaid him.  Iph. 
〈◊〉 he now 〈◊〉 Argos?  Or. 
Everywhere, and no where.  〈◊〉 Euphrosine▪ Iphigenia goes to her. Euph. 
Madam, the Queen approaches.  Or. 
Hast thou observed that Lady well, my Friend,  
That's so acquainted with th' affairs of Greece?  Pil. 
I have.  Or. 
Methinks there's much of Helen in her form.  Pil. 
I was about t' inform you that I thought so.  Or. 
That very Air that set the world on fire.  Pil. 
As sweet, yet checked by something that's severe.  
And see the very motion of that eye,  
That went to all beholders Hearts like Lightning,  
That moves even mine in this my lost condition.  aside, Or. 
She is not only fair, my friend, she is good too,  
She pities our misfortunes, nay, she weeps for them.  Pil. 
Pity's the Harbinger of Love, suppose  
That this should be the object which the god  
Foretold should be obliged by Love to assist us?  Or. 
I would to Heaven it were! O hopeless wish▪  
For at the sight of her my Soul dilates itself,  
As at the view of a long absent Friend,  
Unsatiated with gazing.  Enter Queen. Guard. Queen. 
At length our Scythians have redeemed their Honour,  
And haughty Strangers you are in our power.  
But to you, Grecian, we have obligations,  
Which we disdain to owe.  
Guards, let him instantly be free; for th' other  
Straight to the Temple let him be conducted,  
And there expire the Victim of the Goddess.  Or. 
The very mercy of a Scythians cruelty;  
I gave you Life and Liberty, because.  
I thought them grateful gifts, but Death's the present,  
The only present you can make to me.  
Would you requite the gifts which I bestowed on you,  
With my Friend's Life and Liberty requite them,  
And let my Blood appease your cruel Goddess.  Queen. 
Proud! Hast thou then disdained my proffered mercy?  
Know one of you is doomed to die, and instantly:  
Determine which between you.  Pil. 
Scythians, conduct your Prisoner.  They are going. Or. 
Hold, you Barbarians, hold.  
By all that wondrous power of Sacred Friendship,  
That but this moment charmed your savage heart,  
I here conjure you, hold!  
Consider how we from our earliest years  To Pylades. 
Have lived, as if one will, one soul had acted us;  
Is this a time to differ? why wouldst thou  
Usurp this wretched Death, that is my Right?  
Who drew thee from the Clime of gentle Greece,  
To this inhuman shore?  
What but my miseries seduced thee hither!  
The pomp and the support of my sad state?  
What have I done t' induce you to believe  
That I should proveso recreant to all goodness,  
To let you suffer here instead of me?  Pil. 
Would you not have me suffer?  Or. 
Would I not have thee suffer? canst thou ask it?  
O my Friend!  Pil. 
And yet you urge me to survive you,  
O contradiction!  Or. 
What hast thou done, which can deserve the death,  
Which fondly thus thou court'st?  Pil. 
What have I done that I deserve to live  
After the only man of all the world  
That's fit to be my Friend?  Or. 
Thou hast no loss in me, or if thou hadst  
Thou haste a Soul that is above thy Fortune,  
Oh live my Friend, and show this cursed Race  
What Grecians can endure!  Pil. 
What live to see you here expire  
Before my very Face!  
Live and stand tamely by, while these Barbarians  
Sheath their accursed Knives in your Heart's blood.  
Away, I always owned myself a man,  
And own no Virtue of that barbarous nature!  Or. 
What will become of me?  
If 'tis so hard to thee to lose thy Friend,  
To thee whose faculties are all entire,  
Whose Soul's in its full strength,  
What must it be to me, who bow my neck  
Beneath the Burden which the Gods have laid on me?  
Whose wounded spirit swoons beneath the pangs  
Of sorrow, which no Tongue of man can utter.  
O cursed sting of guilt that's insupportable!  Pil. 
Thou hast no guilt, the Gods themselves declared it.  Or. 
Oh I have done a deed!  Pil. 
The Gods commanded thee.  Or. 
Nature forbid me.  Pil. 
Nature is theirs, and theirs are all her Laws,  
What their supreme Authority has made,  
Their independent power can supersede.  
Thou couldst not help performing their commands,  
For what they will, is fate.  Or. 
Then why at my last need have they forsaken me,  
Why has the baser world disowned this Fact,  
And branded my great name with infamy?  
Why gapes the Earth with ghastly yawns before me,  
While Hell unwilling from the Centre bursts,  
To show me forms that fright my trembling Genius,  
Blast all my Faculties, unhinge my Reason,  
And in a moment make me start to madness?  
Yet while I had thee by me 't was impossible  
That I could be entirely miserable,  
It was impossible that I could think  
Upon thy wondrous Faith, thy wondrous Truth,  
Upon thy wondrous Self, and not be pleased.  
That thought, that only thought prevailed upon me  
To bear the smarting wounds of my own Spirit,  
To bear the loss of Peace, the loss of Fame:  
But must I lose my Friend, and must I bear it?  
Ye Gods I will not bear it; and my plagues  
Shall be your aspect no longer. Come ye Furies▪  
The formidable Goddesses ascend,  
And threefold madness to befriend me seize me.  Pil. 
What shall I do?  
His fury wildly champs upon the Curb,  
Anon it foams, and starting with a Bound,  
Hurries him headlong, far from Reason's Road;  
I shake, I tremble at the dismal consequence;  
I can no longer bear this mortal Agony  
In him whom dearer than myself I love.  
No more!  
Compose the Tumult in thy Raging Spirits,  
Thy friend has listened to thy Lamentation,  
And with a bleeding heart has heard  
Thy miserable plea.  Or. 
Is it not fitting then that I should bleed?  Pil. 
Grant me but one Request, and thou shalt die.  Or. 
'Tis thine, whate'er it be.  Pil. 
But swear.  Or. 
Then by th' Almighty power of our Jove,  
By all our great Progenitors, his Offspring,  
I swear!  Pil. 
That thou wilt die as thou hast lived,  
My Friend and my Companion.  Or. 
Couldst thou doubt that? How willingly I swear!  Pil. 
Then hast thou sworn that I shall not survive thee.  Or. 
Nay, that my last Request.—  Pil. 
Hold, by the Gods, to whom thou stand'st obliged  
By dreadful Oaths; hold, make not that request,  
And be not perjured in the hour of Death.  Or. 
Ha!  
Now Death is armed, and with a fearful Sting▪  Queen. 
Now, Grecians, who's the Victim?  Or. 
'Tis I.  Pil. 
'Tis I.  Or. 
Pil. 'Tis both.  Queen. 
But both it must not be, I here am absolute,  
But one shall fall a Victim to the Goddess.  Pil. 
To holy Friendship t'other falls a sacrifice.  Queen aside. 
These are, ye Gods, the works of your own hands,  
Your living Image.  
To separate Apartments Guards conduct them.  Exeunt Guards, with Orestes and Pylades. 
Now to the Temple lead, let's there consult  
The Goddess, she herself shall choose her Victim.  Exeunt Queen and Attendants. Manet Iphigenia, Euph. Iph. 
Stay, my Euphrosyne, one moment stay,  
Hast thou observed that Godlike Youth,  
Who showed that noble sorrow?  Euph. 
I have.  Iph. 
Does he deserve the Death which we prepare for him?  
Does he not, say, Deserve to be Immortal?  Euph. 
Yet he must die.  Iph. 
die Nature first; he must not Die, Euphrosyne.  Euph. 
Yes, in the Arms of a young Beauteous Queen.  Iph. 
Ha!  
First let him bleed; no▪ let him live, ye powers,  
Let Iphigenia Die.  Euph. 
Amazement? What do I hear?  Iph. 
What wilt thou say when thou hast heard the rest.  Euph. 
The rest, oh heavens'!  Iph. 
To my Apartment instantly let's go,  
There thou the secret of my Soul shalt know,  
But not the very Winds of Heaven must on it blow.  
The end of the Second Act.   

ACT III.  Iphigenia, Euphrosyne. Iph. 
WIlt thou betray me?  Euph. 
I'll rather die with you.  Iph. 
Dissuade me then no more; I am determined,  
And Fate cries out I must not lose a moment.  
Be gone then, fly, and send the unhappy Grecian to me.  Enter Delia. Del. 
Madam, the Queen commands that both the strangers  
Without delay be brought into her presence.  Iph. 
Unfortunate command that thus prevents me!  
I will not be prevented; inspire me thou,  
Thou gentle God of Love, for whom I act.  
Delia, inform the Queen, that of the Captives▪  
The eldest is the Victim now  
Of these most dreadful Altars,  
For such, she says, is great Diana's Will.  
His Eyes are muffled, and his Arms are pinioned;  
His Temples are with Holy Fillets bound,  
Already has the sacred water cleansed him,  
And to the infernal Gods he stands devoted.  
The other shall attend her instantly.  Exit Delia▪ 
Euphrosyne!  
To me convey the eldest of the strangers,  
And to the cruel Queen dispatch the other.  
And thou, Immortal Love, whose conquering power  
Can give the Tender Timorous Virgin force,  
Thus to defy the Terrors of the night:  
Immortal Love indulge my bold design;  
Preserve us, thou preserver of the Universe!  Enter Orestes. Or. 
Here all alone! That pleases me: But why,  
Why I can gaze upon her unobserved,  
And none condemn my weakness.  
I have not half an hour to view the light;  
And since I've felt the extremity of woe,  
'Tis fit I find some pleasure ere I die:  
Death's ghastly Image then I'll chase away  
With Love's Transporting Thoughts.  
But if those Thoughts once make me fond of Life,  
I'll think that I have reason to despair,  
And so contented die.  Coming up to Iphi 
It was your pleasure that a dying wretch  
Should come and take his leave of you.  Iph. 
Stranger, I sent for you to give you notice  
That th' Altar is adorned, the Steel prepared,  
And the next moment they expect the Victim.  Or. 
The Victim will attend them.  
But whose must be the executing arm?  Iph. 
Look how it Trembles at the Dreadful Deed!  
Methinks with Horror, Stranger, you survey me.  Or. 
No, do but strike with that soft melting look,  
And my last breath shall Blessing pour my Soul on thee.  
O Look, ill suited to this cursed office,  
That nought respires but Blood and horrid Murder.  
How long have you possessed it?  Iph. 
Last night the Scythians, threatening horrid Tortures,  
Compelled me to accept of it;  
But a more cruel wrack succeeds th' acceptance.  
The fear of striking this accursed blow  
Has torn my heartin pieces.  Or. 
What object makes you start, and turn so pale?  Iph. 
I sark! heard you not the Temple doors  
Upon their hinges turning!  Or. 
No, 'twas the hollow Breath of the Black North,  
That grumbles on the Mountain▪  Iph. 
My Apprehension every Moment murders me;  
Ah Gods! we must make haste, the fatal Time draws nigh.  Or. 
Yet something would I whisper to your Soul,  
Would you vouchsafe to hear me▪  Iph. 
Alas 'tis now too late, we must be gone.  Or. 
To Death, at your Command▪ this readily I run.  Going towards the Temple. Iph. 
Ah Gods!  
You run you know not whither; that's not the way.  
Suppose that now some pitying God persuades me  
Yet to preserve you from impending Fate.  Or. 
And my Friend too!  Iph. 
And him too.  Or. 
To that propitious God my very self I'll sacrifice.  Iph. 
Would you take me the Partner of your Flight?  Or. 
The Partner! What a Whirl of Fate is here!  
Surprise and Joy distract me.  Iph. 
Would you?  Or. 
Or may I perish in it unlamented.  Iph. 
No more. Near yonder Western Point there lies  
A leaky, Tempest-beaten, tattered Bark;  
In which Four Wretches slumber out the Night,  
To fit them for the Labours of the Day;  
That we must seize on, and must trust to that.  Or. 
Alas, we need not: Near you Eastern Point  
The Stout, the Strong-ribbed Argosy attends us:  
A hundred daring Souls enclosed in its huge Bulk,  
All waiting on my Nod.  Iph. 
Were you not wrecked then?  Or. 
Among the Rocks the Vestal rides concealed.  Iph. 
What do I hear! nay then, the Gods regard us.  
Remove a little further to the Right,  
That no one from the Temple may discern you:  
Thither I must return, and thence transport  
The Image of the Goddess,  Or. 
That in my Rapture I had quite forgot.  Aside Iph. 
So shall we still be under her Protection,  
And shall avoid the fierceness of her Anger.  Or. 
Alas! You've named the very fatal Thing  
For which we touched on this accursed Shore.  Iph. 
Then came you here by choice?  Or. 
To fetch this fatal Image of the Goddess.  Iph. 
What moved you to it?  Or. 
The Delphic God ordained it.  Iph. 
Ha!  
How every thing I hear gives me new Life,  
And makes my Blood run dancing to my Heart!  
Six Grecian Virgins, all of Noble Birth,  
Within yond Temple wait upon my Call,  
Who all would offer up their Lives to serve me:  
They tell me of prodigious Apparitions  
That have astonished them this fatal Night:  
Two shall amuse the Queen with the Relation,  
While the rest secretly transport the Goddess.  
And thou, old Night, the Friend to Love and Stealth,  
T' indulge this Stealth to which great Love compels me,  
Redouble all thy Shades.  Aside. 
Expect me in a Moment back again;  
But on your Life re move not from the place;  
Let me be sure to find you here;  
So may you find the Happiness you wish for.  Exit Iph. Or. 
Confirm that Wish, ye Heavens!  
Hark! Who comes there! A Man! Pray Heaven a Friend!  
What Alteration can a Moment make!  
ay, who this Minute longed to lay my Head  
Down in the dark and peaceful Grave,  
Am now grown fond of miserable Life.  
What sudden Vigour Love receives from Hope!  
For scarce an Hour is passed since the soft God  
Lay weak and languishing within my Breast;  
Now raging there ' he all his Power exerts.  Enter Pylades. 
Now Fate beware a Counter-turn!  
Who comes here?  Pil. 
A Friend  Or. 
My Pylades!  Pil. 
The same.  Or. 
Speak lower.  Pil. 
I cannot speak too loud, who bring thee Safety.  Or. 
Softly, I say: you know not what you do,  
Nor to what Danger you expose us both.  Pil. 
The fear of Danger to the Winds deliver.  
I bring thee Life, and Health, and Joy, my Friend:  
The Scythian Queen has sent all these by me;  
Yet on Conditions sent them.  
But thou art cold, 〈◊〉 if thou fear'dst the Terms.  
Know, the Conditions will transport Orestes:  
The Queen inclines to make another Choice  
Of Victims for the Altar; but declares,  
That Custom, which is Scythian Law, requires,  
That all those Strangers, whom the Sovereign Rulers  
By their Supreme Prerogative preserve,  
Must become Scythians, by espousing Scythians;  
Born so, or grown so here by long continuance:  
Or, by attending on those cruel Altars,  
Appease the wrathful Goddess  Or. 
Proceed  Pil. 
The Mistress she designed for me the named:  
The Name of yours she omitted; but she added,  
That both our Lives and Happiness depend●●  
Upon your swift Compliance  
I, as your Friend, engage you should comply.  Or. 
Why did you so?  Pil. 
Because I found by what she said,  
And what she did not say,  
Her lovely Self's the Person she designs for thee!  Or. 
No matter.  
Without my Knowledge, why should you engage?  Pil. 
Why?  
Because I thought in this impending Danger  
You were in Reason bound, for your own sake,  
To make my Engagement good.  Or. 
For my own sake! I'll perish●ere comply.  Pil. 
Then, as a Friend, I frankly must inform you,  
You stand obliged to make it good for mine.  Or. 
A mere imaginary Obligation?  Pil. 
Imaginary? Will you force me then  
T' upbraid you? What would I have done for you?  Or. 
You would have died: and I would bleed for Pylades.  Pil. 
Dissembler.  Or. 
How!  Pil. 
You talk of dying, and refuse me what's so very easy?  Or. 
Is then the doing a base thing so easy?  Pil. 
Where is the Baseness in espousing her?  Or. 
Where is the Justice in espousing one,  
Whom I can never love?  Pil. 
Come, come, your Friend is the unhappy Person  
Whom you could never love.  Or. 
And yet you see I bear his bitterest Censures.  Pil. 
Why can you never love her?  
From whence proceeds the Aversion?  Or. 
Aversion I have none; for I esteem her:  
Nay, I admire her.  Pil. 
Marry her then, and Love will soon succeed.  Or. 
Urge me no more.  Pil. 
For your own sake, as well as mine, I must.  Or. 
Have but a little Patience.  Pil. 
Were but my Life at Stake, I would have Patience:  
But what I vain more, much more than Life,  
My Love is lost, unless my Friend complies.  Or. 
Your Love? What Love?  Pil. 
I told you that the Queen declared the Name  
Of her whom she designed for me.  Or. 
And do you love her?  Pil. 
●●●●er than Life, or what's more dear, than Peace;  
Unless she brings it to this wretched Breast.  Or. 
When could you see her?  Pil. 
At our Arrival.  Or. 
Ha! Where?  Pil. 
Just on this very spot.  Or. 
Ha! on this Spot! saw whom! Gods, how I tremble!  Pil. 
The Priestess, tho' I ne'er approached the Altar,  
Has with her pointed Weapon reached my Heart.  Or. 
Damnation! wonderful accursed Accident!  
Now Fate prepares her Counter-turn. You amaze me!  
Was that a time for Love to make Impressions?  Pil. 
The force of Destiny would surely have it so:  
And great Apollo's Oracle encouraged me.  
But yet the Thought of your approaching Danger,  
At first restrained the growing Fire within me:  
But when the Queen insured your precious Life,  
And gave me charming Hope,  
She blew it into such a Flame,  
I must possess or die.  Or. 
How will relentless Heaven dispose of me!  Aside. Pil. 
By that dear Love, and all my Hope of Happiness,  
Which lies in you, your faithful Friend entreats you.  Or. 
I'll hear no more, you know not what you ask.  Pil. 
That you would do your Duty, that I ask.  Or. 
I am not to be taught my Duty here.  Pil. 
Let it appear;  
Was ever Man deceived as I have been?  Or. 
You deceive yourself.  Pil. 
I is one indeed deceives me,  
Whom I have long mistaken for myself,  
Unjust Orestes!  
Is not the Altar Decked, the Steel prepared  
To rip this Breast that has so long received you,  
And cherished you more dearly than my Blood  
Than my Heart's Blood which I'm about to lose.  Or. 
You shall not lose a Drop.  Pil. 
Comply then, and prevent it instantly▪  
What can Orestes with such ease prevent it?  
With so much safety too, with somuch Honour?  
And yet Deliberate? Where is the Friend?  
Where is the Celebrated Friend of Pylades?  
But see their Priestesses advancing towards us,  
Sent doubtlessly t'explore our Resolution;  
Can you Resolve to see this Faithful Breast  
Ripped up before your Eyes.  Or. 
Come I'll secure your life!  Pil. 
Will you?  Or. 
I will by Heaven?  Pil. 
And when?  Or. 
This very Moment.  Enter two Priestesses 'cross the Stage, with the Image Delia following them. Pil. 
Then art thou yet my Friend.  Del. 
Grecian, the Image is conveyed before  
Your Friends will follow straight, prepare t'attend them.  To Or. Or. 
I am prepared (to Pil.) observe you that Procession?  Ex. Del. Pil. 
What means that Image, and that nightly Progress?  Or. 
Behold it well!  
That very fatal Image great Apollo  
Ordained us to transport.  Pil. 
And whither do these Priestesses remove it?  Or. 
Where we without the least delay must follow;  
Come, Come along; we must embark this Moment.  Pil. 
By Heaven my Head turns round, Is this a Miracle,  
Or have you palpably designed t'abuse me?  Or. 
Thou hast heard a wondrous Truth!  Pil. 
What God has wrought that wonder?  Or. 
Time's wanting now to tell thee.  Pil. 
How basely I have censured thee!  
Canst thou forgive me? 'Tis my last request to thee.  Or. 
Come, Thou art still my best, my only Friend.  
Come, follow, by the glimmering of the Moon,  
I see our friends are coming.  Pil. 
Our friends! Astonishment! What friends do you mean?  
I'm more and more confounded.  Or. 
Come on.  Pil. 
Farewell.  Or. 
What can my Pylades design? Come on I say.  Pil. 
Never.  Or. 
Canst thou Desert me?  Pil. 
The great design for which I came is executed,  
I've done my Duty, and behold you Happy.  
Your wretched Friend must never see you more.  Or. 
Why dost thou talk so?  Pil. 
My Life and Happiness are both confined,  
To this accursed Climate.  Or. 
The Priestess of Diana you will follow.  Pil. 
Till my last groan sets freely afflicted Soul.  Enter 〈◊〉. Euph. 
Grecian, the Image is conveyed before us,  
Prepare to follow.  to Or. 
Yonder the Priestess of Diana comes,  
Th' Associate of your flight. I go before,  Exit. Pil. 
What have I heard? Damnation!  
It must be illusion and enchantment all  
By all that's good herself, her Lovely self  
That slowly advancing seems to give directions  
To some who are about her.  
And for this reason you refused compliance  
To what the Queen Demanded?  Or. 
This was the very Reason?  Pil. 
You Love this Priestess of Diana then?  Or. 
Thou art myself, my very self, my Pylades  
View thy own Heart and see Orestes there.  Pil. 
A long and last farewell.  Or. 
Wilt thou betray me?  Pil. 
Unkind t'insult thus o'er your dying Friend.  Or. 
To die is to Betray me!  
Nay dying you Betray both me and her.  
She, she is in Distress, and wants your Help,  
To free her from this Barbarous clime,  
And this more Barbarous Office.  
Can you affirm you love, and yet forsake her  
In this extreme necessity?  Pil. 
Can I affirm I Love, and yet behold her  
within another's Arms?  Or. 
Who shall possess her lies in fate concealed.  
She has not yet 〈…〉  
Come, the Time 〈…〉  
Our generous 〈…〉  
Come let it 〈…〉  
The sordid'st Wretch that breathes, can die for Love,  
'Tis a soft, 〈…〉  
Great Nature's 〈…〉.  
The Gods as many Lovers make ●● Men:  
But they scarce make two 〈…〉 Ages  
Of all the Race of Living Men  
Fame celebrates us Two 〈…〉 Friendship,  
And shall a Woman break the Noble Bond?  Pil. 
Why? 〈…〉  Or. 
〈…〉? Would you then against her will possess her?  Pil. 
〈…〉 die, 〈◊〉, rather ●● contented  
To drag on life 〈…〉,  
And be myself a wretch most miserable,  
Than render her unhappy.  Or. 
'Tis spoken like a true and generous Lover,  
Wilt thou not show thyself a generous Friend,  
My Pylades, and judge my Thoughts by thine,  
Vast is the watery Plain that we must plough,  
ere we discharge our sacred Load at Athens;  
And we must labour all the Dismal way  
With many Difficulties, mighty Dangers.  
Those let thy Love and Virtue make thy Friends,  
Attend her, Help her, Save her, court her, gain her,  
Incline her Heart, and I'll release my claim.  Pil. 
What shall I answer? Love and Shame Distract me;  
Must He surpass me thus in Godlike proofs  
Of unexampled Faith? He must not, shall not,  
Tho' he has surely prepossessed her Soul.  
I will not make myself so little to myself;  Aside. 
No, I'll live rather greatly miserable,  
That with myself I may contented die.  
Thou hast o'ercome, Orestes,  
And Noble Friendship has prevailed o'er Love.  
But oh my Friend, if on these cursed Altars  
I had spilled the Blood that's next my Heart to save thee,  
It had been an easier Sacrifice.  Enter Iph. Or. 
No more, she comes.  Iph. 
Who's that? The Stranger?  Or. 
The same.  Iph. 
Is that your Friend?  Or. 
It is.  Iph. 
Let us away,  
Now all our Interruptions are removed;  
For I pretending Orders from the Queen,  
Have from their Posts, removed the Neighbouring Sentry's.  
But whither? Through what Dangers am I running?  
Look not my Soul, Oh, look not now before thee!  
My Head grows giddy with th' amazing prospect.  
Look backward then, survey the dreadful Altar;  
I do, I see, I see the Bloody Knife there;  
Ah Gods! I feel it, with its cruel point;  
It Goads and Stabs me forward, Let's begone;  
I can no longer bear the Murdering thought.  As they are going out, they are met by a party of Scythians, bringing back the four Priestesses, and the Image. Iph. 
Ah!  Scyth. 
Here, Here are their Accomplices, fall on:  Or. 
Hold Savages, O Hold.  Pil. 
Forbear, Forbear.  Or. 
As for us two, we yield ourselves your Captives,  
Touch not with Impious Hands her Sacred Limbs.  Scyth. 
I had forgot, she is Diana's Priestess,  
Keep off your Hands, but guard her with your Eyes.  
So;  
Be it your Care the Prisoners to confine,  
I'll to the Queen Relate their black Design.  Exit. Iph. 
Ah wretched Men! by cruel God's betrayed.  Pil. 
Pity thyself alas too lovely Maid.  Or. 
Death soon will put an end to all our woe,  
But Oh what pangs art thou to undergo,  
Who art condemned to strike th' Inhuman Blow.  
The End of the Third Act.   

ACT IU.  Enter Queen, and Scythian. Queen. 
WHat have I heard! Armed Men upon the Breach!  Scyth. 
Above an hundred, all with Grecian Plumes,  
And Grecian Shields.  Queen. 
Double the Guards around the Temple,  
And strongly guard the Passes.  
Who saw these Grecians?  Scyth. 
As we expecting lay for your Return,  
Upon the Summet of yond shaggie Mountain,  
That bending its black Brow, with dreadful Scowl,  
Over the gloomy Deep, affrights great Neptune,  
By the pale Moon's reflected Beams we spied them:  
And on the sight, dismounting all my Men,  
I brought them to defend your sacred Person.  Queen. 
And so, upon your March at this dead Season,  
You took these Grecian Fugitives: 'Tis well;  
You have done important Service, and I thank you.  
But what's the Reason that the younger Captive  
Is not already in my Presence?  
My severe Charge how dare they disobey?  Scyth. 
Behold, dread Queen, he comes.  Queen. 
Then go and see my other Orders executed.  Ex. Scyth. Enter Pylades. 
Whom would not that Majestic Mien deceive?  
And his Friend's Godlike Eyes that look Divinity?  
Why should the Sacred Character of Virtue  
Shine on a Villain's Countenance? Ye Powers!  
Why fixed ye not a Brand on Treason's Front,  
That we might know t' avoid perfidious Mortals?  Aside. 
Look if the Traitor once vouchsafes to blush!  To him. 
If still his Countenance be not assured!  
His Eyes Commanding, and his Aspect Lordly!  
How dost thou dare, with that audacious Look,  
T' affront offended Majesty?  Pil. 
I know no Mortal whom I ought to fear.  Queen. 
An Hypocrite, and not afraid!  
What makes Hypocrisy so very odious?  
Unless because 'tis Cowardice.  Pil. 
Know, Queen, I scorn Hypocrisy, and know  
The basest of Hypocrisies is Slander.  Queen. 
And am I then defied, presumptuous Grecian,  
And dared to prove my Charge?  Pil. 
I dare even Jove, who knows all Hearts, to pro●●●●t.  Queen. 
Then, past Reply thou soon shalt stand convicted.  
When I in Mercy gave you Life and Liberty,  
Did you not own yourself obliged?  Pil. 
I own it.  Queen. 
But when Diana's Priestess I bestowed on you,  
Did not you seem transported? Answer me.  
Was not your Joy extravagant and loud?  
Did you not swear, that I, of all the World,  
Was she who nearest had obliged your Soul?  Pil. 
I said it, and I thought it.  Pil. 
Did you not promise to reside in Scythia?  
And to engage your Friend to do the like?  
That with the Service of your Life you might  
Return me, Thanks for the rich Present made you?  
Were not these very Words your own?  Pil. 
They were.  Queen. 
Then think of thy base Flight, if thou dar'st think of it,  
And say, thou art not a Hypocrite.  
What canst thou answer to thy just Accuser?  Pil. 
That which will make my Accuser say, she wrongs me.  
You accuse me that I would have fled: Indeed  
I attempted to regain that Liberty,  
Of which your Power unjustly had deprived me.  
What Reason could you find, insulting Queen,  
To make them Captives whom the Gods made free,  
And gave them Souls deserving Liberty?  
As against Nature's Laws we are your Victims,  
Against the Right of Nations we're your Captives;  
And any way was lawful to fair Liberty,  
Which we were born for, and for which we'll die.  Queen. 
That very Moment I restored your Liberty.  Pil. 
Indeed you did restore it, but on Terms  
Impossible to be performed by us.  Queen. 
Why did you then approve them?  Phel. 
I never knew them well till I had left you.  Queen. 
A mere Pretence! Is Grecian Faith so known?  
Had not you given that Faith to remain here?  Pil. 
But then that Faith was on Conditions given;  
Which soon I found you never could perform.  Queen, 
Wherefore?  Pil. 
Because the Gift you offered, was no Gift.  Queen. 
What was no Gift? The Present which you prized so!  Pil. 
Had it been real, it had been inestimable.  
You only gave me Words, and the vain Promise  
Of what the Gods had taken from your Power.  Queen. 
Surely thou ravest,  
Is not Diana's Priestess in my Power?  Pil. 
Her Body is; but tho' it be a glorious One  
Without her Soul, I would refuse the Treasure:  
But love alone can of her Soul dispose;  
And, without leave obtained of you,  
The God had frankly done it.  Queen. 
Ha! To whom!  Pil. 
How fain you would extort this Secret from me?  Queen. 
How fain I would? by Heaven I will extort it.  Pil. 
You never shall; I know I am to bleed,  
And with me too the fatal Truth shall die.  Queen. 
Then 'tis no Truth, and thou wilt die a Villain:  
Die with the Brand of an ungrateful Traitor,  
An odious Hypocrite.  Pil. 
To be revenged for these opprobrious Wrongs,  
I need but tell you what you ask, proud Princess.  Queen. 
Do it then.  Pil. 
Will you persist to urge me?  Queen. 
I will. The Priestess! Who has touched her Heart?  Pil. 
In your own Breast the fatal Secrets lodged.  Queen. 
Lodged in my Breast!  Pil. 
Ask, ask yourself the Question, who is he  
Who finds the way of touching Scythian Hearts?  Queen. 
Ha! Gods! That stings.  Aside. 
Here Guards, withdraw your Prisoner,  
And bring Diana's Priestess hither instantly.  Exeunt with Pil. 
By yond Bright Goddess, He's come off with Honour.  
But Oh, the exalted Virtue of his Friend!  
Who freely for his Friend can Life resign,  
And for his Mistress can contemn a Crown!  
This Raises him still more in my Esteem.  
It would do, had he made a better Choice.  
And is the Priestess then preferred to me?  
Have I, who have had the Ambition to behold  
Admiting Monarchs at my Feet adoring,  
Liv'd to reflect, with mortifying Soul,  
That I myself, to one unknown, have offered,  
And been, O Gods! by one unknown refused?  
And for Diana's Priestess too refused!  
Refused! Scorned! loathed! Oh, how that tears my Heart!  
But if thou hast a Soul, with treble Scorn  
Return it: Suffer him to take this Priestess;  
And let his despicable Choice revenge thee.  
What! must he gain her by the odious Boast,  
That he has sacrificed me to my Creature?  
And can I suffer it? I cannot think of it  
Without Distraction. But the Priestess comes.  Enter Iphigenia. 
So; From whence come you? Ha! whence these Disorders?  
What makes you tremble? And what strikes you dumb?  Iph. 
To such a haughty and insulting Look  
I have not learned to answer.  Queen. 
I look, as it becomes me, on my Slave.  Iph. 
The sight of such a Slave should make you humble,  
By showing you to what excess of Wretchedness  
The Daughter of a mighty King may fall.  Queen. 
Say, From whence come you? I command you answer.  Iph. 
I have no Power to speak.  Queen. 
So hasty was your Flight?  Iph. 
Who must not fly from acting Cruelties,  
At which Barbarity itself can melt?  Queen. 
Oh, how those meek and melting Words  
Become the soft and tender Race of Tantalus!  Iph. 
The Race of Tantalus has been revengeful:  
But yet it ne'er was bloody unprovoked.  
What have these Grecians done to me?  Queen. 
What hadst thou done t' assembled Greece at Aulis?  
What hadst thou done to thy own Father there?  
Who to thy Ruin, unprovoked, consented;  
Nay, pressed it, urged it.  Iph. 
My Mother urged it not.  
I from the Heroines of our Race have learnt  
To show soft Pity.  Queen. 
Thou from the Heroines of thy Race hast learned,  
Thou hast, fond Maid, to show a guiltier Passion.  
Oh, how their kind Reception of their Guests  
Had made their Names throughout the World renowned!  Iph. 
For an Example of such kind Reception,  
Perhaps I need not fly to Greece.  Queen. 
I understand thee well.  
Plagued by the Terrors of impending Wrath,  
Thou wouldst provoke and hasten Death, thou wouldst,  
And have him swifter that he may be gentler,  
But know, fond Maid, thou shalt not die so early,  
Think of thy Gratitude to thy Preserver,  
And think what that deserves.  Iph. 
My preserver!  Queen. 
Was ever such audacious insolence?  
Who was it saved thee from immediate Death,  
At thy Arrival on the State of Tauris?  Iph. 
Would I had been a Man at that Arrival,  
For then my Blood had stain'd your cruel Altars!  Queen. 
O wretch, ingrateful to that black Degree,  
As to disown the mighty Obligation,  
By which thou liv'st to save thou art not obliged!  
Wouldst thou insinuate that thy Sex preserved thee?  Iph. 
Men are the Victims that your Goddess claims!  Queen. 
Not always.  Iph. 
Tradition says so, and your bloody Rites  
Are founded on Tradition.  Queen. 
When she herself declares her awful Will,  
Tradition's of no force.  
But not the feeble voice of faint Tradition;  
No, the loud call of the descending Goddess,  
Claimed thee at Aulis her devoted Victim,  
At least so Calchas said.  Iph. 
The fraud of Calchas plainly she Detected,  
By suffering me to evade th'inhuman Altar.  Queen. 
'Twas Clytaemnestra's Sacrilege preserved thee,  
And not the Goddess;  
Who wracking thee on this her sacred Shore,  
Strongly appears to Redemand her Fugitive.  Iph. 
Before these Grecians came you had no such thoughts.  Queen. 
No, thy soft graceful look, and seeming innocence,  
Inclined me to suspect the crafty Calchas.  
But thy black Guilt appearing with thy Ingratitude,  
Makes me repent of my mistaken pity.  Iph. 
O fatal pity▪ Rightly term▪ d mistaken?  
True pity would have suffered me to bleed;  
Then I had been at rest in the Dark Grave,  
With my unhappy Parents!  
Not have conversed with everlasting woe,  
In you Dire Tabernacle of Despair!  
For there no smiling Beam of Joy is seen;  
No gladsome sound is ever heard,  
But all is always rueful Lamentation,  Queen. 
If thuo'rt so sensible of this,  
Then know that there's a punishment preparing for thee,  
A punishment that's worthy thy perfidiousness.  
If 'tis so terrible to see these Sights,  
So woeful but to hear these sounds of Sorrow,  
What must it be to act the bloody Office?  
What must it be to one who has a Soul  
As soft as thine, as melting even as Mercies,  Iph. 
Ah miserable me!  Queen. 
To act it, nay, and act it on a Grecian?  
One who himself has only tender thoughts,  
Or only tender Thoughts at least towards thee.  
One who perhaps could die for thee, for whom  
Perhaps even thou couldst die?  Iph. 
Ah Gods!  Queen. 
See how her Soul declares its weakness,  
And now unable to contain its grief,  
Pours forth a Deluge of Impetuous Sorrow!  
What must it be to think the Dreadful time  
Of doing this accursed Deed approaches!  
That the next Moment thou must stain thy Hands,  
By going to his Heart a cursed way?  
While thy Soul hears th'intolerable Sound  
Of his last dying Groans, and sees his Eyes.  
His Trembling dying Eyes, that in Death's cruelest pangs  
Look kindly up, as if they blessed their Murderer?  
Go bring the Eldest of the Captives hither,  To some of the Guards who go out. 
Priestess alone, I leave thee with thy Lover,  
But know thy Conference with him must be short;  
And know that yet 'tis in thy power to save him.  
But let not pass the irrevocable Moment;  
Think that the next comes hurrying on, and then  
Unless thou first persuadest him to abandon thee,  
Thou shalt behold him to the Altar dragged,  
Where by thy Hand he dies, and when that's done,  
Thou, Thou shalt by the sacred Steel expire,  
Thou the devoted Victim of the Goddess.  
Guards! On your Lives, observe them at a distance.  Ex. with Train. Iph. 
Inhuman Queen! Must I not only lose him,  
But must I urge him to forsake me? No,  
Alas thou needest not urge him,▪ that assure thyself;  
For what wouldst thou persuade him to?  
To avoid Death, and to embrace a Crown?  
A little argument will there prevail,  
But the Queen says 〈…〉, is 〈…〉?  
No, 'tis the Vision of a 〈…〉 Woman.  
But say it should be true, forbid it Gods▪  
Oh should He love me, 〈…〉 taste of misery,  
Which even in this 〈…〉▪  
For I could die 〈…〉 he lost me,  
How can I plead 〈…〉 myself successfully?  
How can I e'er find 〈…〉 can persuade him  
To make another Happy 〈…〉 thought!  
To make another Happy▪ and me Miserable?  
I cannot, I can see him 〈…〉 first.  
Perish! By whom! Ah watch! Inhuman wretch!  
And canst thou then at last resolve to Murder him?  Enter Orestes. 
See where He comes, and with a Look so sweet,  
As might disarm even Death, ye Gods, ye Gods,  
Who have resolved that I must be a wretch,  
Beyond whatever Mortal was before;  
Take care that I prevail to my undoing,  
And give me strength enough to court Despair.  Or. 
Madam, I come to hear your last Commands,  
Let them be what they will, yet I with Joy am come.  
But why upon this lovely Brow,  
So black a cloud of Sorrow?  Iph. 
Oh could you see my Heart▪ and all the Horror  
Which wildly rages there, how would you pity me?  Or. 
Alas! even now I pity thee!  Iph. 
Do you?  Or. 
Yes, from my very Soul, you cannot think  
How much Compassion tears my tortured Heart.  Iph. 
Make haste then, and prevent the cursed Blow,  
That I'm compelled to strike.  Or. 
Had I a Dagger, I would do it instantly.  Iph. 
There is an easier way at least to you.  Or. 
Name it.  Iph. 
I cannot.  Or. 
Why?  Iph. 
Grecians abhor.  
That Virgins of Affairs like this should speak,  
You have beheld 〈…〉  Or. 
O 〈…〉  Iph. 
Wherefore 〈…〉  Or. 
Too well 〈…〉  
And would not 〈…〉  
Which I can never 〈…〉  Iph. 
Then I am 〈…〉  
But why should you 〈…〉  Or. 
Reason and Justice 〈…〉  
I love another.  Iph. 
Ha! Then his fatal 〈…〉  
What ground the Queen had for her strange suspicion.  
You love another?  Or. 
O more than Life, you see I love another.  Iph. 
Whom?  Or. 
That let me Hide even from 〈…〉  Iph. 
Ha! Why should you conceal it from her?  Or. 
Ask me no more.  Iph. 
I must, and you must answer.  Or. 
She is my Mortal Enemy.  Iph. 
Can any Woman prove a Mortal Enemy▪  
To one who loves like you?  
Your passion known perhaps had made her kind.  Or. 
'Tis to avoid her kindness ● conceal it.  Iph. 
T'avoid it?  Or. 
More than Ten Thousand Deaths I dread her kindness  Iph. 
You love your Enemy, and dread her Kindness?  Or. 
She is by force, and 〈…〉 Choice my Enemy  
She pities me, even from her 〈…〉  
Yet my hard Fate compels her to be cruel to me  
But ye Gods!  
How much I suffer from 〈…〉  
Than from her Cruelty 〈…〉  Iph. 
O Heaven and Earth, I tremble lest the Queen  
Had but too just a ground for her suspicion.  Aside▪ Or. 
Who can see her, he Loves in Grief,  
And bear an equal Mind?  
How might my Passion known, augment her Sorrow?  Iph. 
But what can force her since she is so tender,  
T'appear your Mortal Enemy?  Or. 
Why should you ask! Your questions but disturb me!  Iph. 
I ask to save you, and I must be answered;  
Speak, what can force her, since she is so tender,  
T'appear your Mortal Enemy?  
〈…〉  Aside. 
〈…〉  
〈…〉 Thoughts in me,  
〈…〉 l Deed.  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 Fury that thou dreamest not of.  
〈…〉  Or. 
Never.  Iph. 
Gods! Am I 〈…〉 who loves me!  
〈…〉 these Convulsions?  
〈…〉 Suppose that you were forced  
〈…〉 would it not shake you?  
〈…〉 Murder,  
〈…〉 say,  
〈…〉 Heart?  
〈…〉  
〈…〉 it.  
〈…〉 you  
〈…〉 obey?  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  Aside. 
〈…〉 like a Fury?  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  Or. 
〈◊〉, how that stings ●●▪  Aside. Iph. 
Ha! what, you 〈◊〉 and tremble, and turn pale!  
When the bare mention works on you so terribly.  
Can I endure the thing?  Or. 
The Power that you adore, and that commands it,  
Will calm, and will support you.  Iph. 
What if one God commands the dreadful Deed?  
Perhaps another mightier Power forbids it;  
And if I do it, 〈…〉  
Not to be born 〈…〉  
Without Despair and 〈…〉  
Which then shall I 〈…〉  Or. 
Which of 〈…〉  Iph. 
Thou ask'st 〈…〉  
His awful Name's 〈…〉  Or. 
When 〈…〉  Iph. 
Even now 〈…〉  Or. 
Where?  Iph. 
Here, 〈…〉  Or. 
Here?  Iph. 
Here, look 〈…〉  Or. 
Ha!  Iph. 
Is ' he not manifest 〈…〉  Or. 
Oh astonishment!  Iph. 
If thou art blind, 〈…〉  
Know, that thou feel'st 〈…〉  
And ownest his dreadful 〈…〉  Or. 
Amazement!  
And canst thou be so infinitely 〈…〉  
To love this▪ Object of Divine Displeasure 〈…〉  
Oh this pathetic Silence how it 〈…〉  
How this Disorder in thy 〈…〉  
And quite destroys my 〈…〉  Iph. 
Could you see all the 〈…〉  
Could you behold my Heart 〈…〉  Or. 
I have been shown 〈…〉  
And in that Sight I saw a 〈…〉  Iph. 
Think what's to 〈…〉  Or. 
I do, I do, my Soul's 〈…〉  Iph. 
Reflect upon my 〈…〉  Or. 
Damnation! 〈…〉  
And what must I endure!  Iph. 
Have Mercy then upon yourself and me.  Or. 
O for a Dagger!  
That plunging it in my Heart's Blood,  
I might to both show Mercy.  Iph. 
That Thought's a Dagger; there's another way.  Or. 
No!  
My Heart, my Life, my very▪ Soul is yours:  
My Honour and my Virtue are the Gods:  
They are Depositums entrusted with me;  
And I'll, untouched, with my last Breath restore them.  
 
〈…〉 Grecian, the Queen has sent us to inform thee,  
That thy Delay has mortally offended her;  
And Death and Vengeance chase thee now in view.  
Here, you must to the Temple guard the Priestess.  To some of the Guards. 
And you in Iron Bonds must bind the Prisoner:  To others. 
Then lead him where the Ministers expect him,  
To bind his Temples, and to veil his Eyes.  Or. 
Stay but one Moment, when a Wretch requires it,  
The only happy Moment I ere knew.  1 Scyth. 
We dare not; for severely we're forbidden.  
The Grecians who were seen upon the Beach,  
With their drawn Weapons 〈…〉  
And if thou shouldst 〈…〉  
The Queen has sworn 〈…〉  
That we shall all of us 〈…〉  
D'y ' hear? We 〈…〉  
The Cornets with their 〈…〉  
Bind him, you Slaves 〈…〉  
How dare you stand 〈…〉  Or. 
My Grecians 〈…〉  
I'd give the World 〈…〉  While they bind 〈◊〉 
But since it will 〈…〉  
I ask not Liberty, 〈…〉  
I ask not even a 〈…〉  
Pour down your Plagues on my devoted Head,  
Torment me, rack me, tear me,  
Torture me any way, unless by torturing he●●  
Comfort her poor afflicted Heart, ye Powers!  
And grant, that at our next accursed meeting,  
Grant, cruel Gods, that mine be all the Pain.  Iph. 
Break Heart, that we may never meet again.  
The End of the Fourth ACT.   

ACT. V.  SCENE The Outward Temple. Enter Queen, Priests and Priestesses. 1 Pr. 
SAve us ye eternal Powers that save the Just.  2 Priest. 
Protect us, great Diana!  1 Priest. 
What dismal Night is this?  2 Pr. 
A dreadful Night indeed!  1 Pr. 
Sure all the Elements will now be wracked,  
And 'tis the end of all things.  Queen. 
Are you the Sacred Ministers of Heaven,  
And yet afraid of Thunder?  1 Pr. 
When Jove's disturbed, what Mortal dares be calm?  Queen. 
I who am conscious of committing nothing,  
That may provoke his Anger.  
Are all things ready?  Pr. 
They are, even now th'adorn the fatal Image.  
 
〈…〉 Grecians are 〈…〉 And is it possible?  
〈…〉 could they force in spite of your resistance,  
〈…〉 up the Mountain's Steep ascent?  
〈…〉 You have heard how first by slow Degrees they ascended,  
While as they mounted dusky Clouds arose  
And Heaven appeared to s●o●l upon th' Attempt,  
And lowering blackened all their March, while ours  
Upon the Margin of the horrid Summet,  
With threatening Dares impatiently expected them.  
But when within our Javelins reach they arrived  
Upon the sudden Jove declared aloud for them.  
The dreadful Thunder from behind them roared,  
While at our Scythians Eyes the blasting Lightning flew,  
The Grecians with a shout that breathed Defiance,  
Received th' Auspicious Signal; and the Thunder  
Seemed as an Instrument of War t'excite them.  
Hear ye Barbarians! Hear great Jove they cried,  
Threatening Destruction to your cursed Race.  
And as the Rocks Restored the Dreadful cry  
Murmuring they clashed a formidable Din  
Upon their flaming Shields, than shook their Horrid Spears,  
Their Spears that bristled with th'amazing Beams  
Of the Retorted Lightning; Hideous they ascended,  
As flaming Furies mounting from the Abyss,  
While all our Scythians looked like pale Offenders,  
When they behold Hell's Ghastly 〈…〉  Queen. 
Infamous Slaves 〈…〉  Scyth. 
This front 〈…〉  
Where I, great Queen, by 〈…〉  
Prepared the 〈…〉  
When lo the 〈…〉  
The Mournful 〈…〉  
When in 〈…〉  
I hurrying drag 〈…〉  Queen. 
And 〈…〉  Scyth. 
Not I 〈…〉  
As we were 〈…〉  
The Grecians that 〈…〉  
Had driven our 〈…〉  
And quite overcome 〈…〉  
Swift as the Lightning 〈…〉  
And in a Moment, 〈…〉  Queen. 
And thou art alive to tell this▪  Scyth. 
My Life was of Importance to your Service▪  
And therefore I preserved it.  
A panic Fear had now dispersed our Scythians▪  
Some fell, some sled, but all remained Disordered.  
Iby this Voice alone retrieved the Fainting,  
Confirmed the Doubtful, and recalled the Flying:  
Rallied by me, they still maintained their ground,  
When I withdrew to inform▪ you of your Danger,  
And know your further pleasure  Queen. 
O Death to all my Hopes! [Aside] Return I charge 〈…〉  
If thy 〈…〉 dear to thee, with speed Return;  
And tell these Scandals to the Scythian Race,  
That they had better never have been born,  
Than e'er behold my Evil without the Prisoner?  
Tell them, they can but dieby Grecian Hands;  
And if they die by them, they die with Honour,  
And they who die with Honour, die with Pleasure.  
But should they owe their Deaths to my Revenge,  Shout. 
O● Thou, O Heaven! that shouts the shout of Triumph,  
●ead in my Eyes the Rest, and fly to inform them.  Ex. Scyth. 1 Pr. 
The Gods apparently reject this Sacrifice.  Queen. 
How durst thou think so?  1 Pr. 
The prodigies so lately seen confirm it.  
Scarce had the Night upon her Carr ascending,  
Thrown her black Influence round the Mournful Hemisphere,  
When a Mad Whirlwinds Subterranean blast,  
Made the Dome tremble from its deep Foundation.  
And shook the dreadful glories of its Spires.  
 
Yet hide themselves from 〈…〉 they have given  
A Spirit, worthy of the 〈…〉?  Enter 〈…〉 
Ha! Art thou then returned▪ What do 〈…〉 Grecians?  Scyth. 
The Grecians make a surely slow Retreat.  Queen. 
And where's the Victim?  Scyth. 
Look where the Scythians guard him towards the Altar.  Queen. 
You are just ye powers in all your ways!  
Now let the Rites begin.  The flat Scene draws and discovers the Altar, Iphigenia on the one side, and Euphrosyne on the other in Mourning postures. The Victim veiled is introduced by flat Trumpets, a Train of Priests and Priestesses and Guards. The Victim is led 〈…〉; after that a dreadful Symphony, and then the following Ode. 
Ode for the Sacrifice. Three Priests, Chorus of Priests and Priestesses. 
1 Pr. 
HAil great Diana, ●ear and s●●,  Chor. 
We Sacrifice thee.  2 Pr. 
Hail Moon that with thy silver Light,  
Governest the Empire of the Night,  
Look down and see,  Chor. 
We Sacrifice to thee.  3 Pr. 
And thou the Dreadfullest of the three,  
Hail Infernal Hecate!  
Ascend and see!  Chor. 
We Sacrifice to thee.   

II.  
Thee, Great Diana, thou,  
Goddess renowned for Chastity,  
Thee first of all we Invoke,  
To see us strike the fatal stroke.  
On him who with a Heart profane,  
Thy very Altars sought to stain.  
Thy presence opened the dark Womb  
And gave him Entrance to the Light;  
Thy presence too must open the sad Tomb,  
And send him to Eternal Night.   

III.  Chor. 
Thee Goddess, thee, we all invoke  
To see us strike the fatal stroke.  2 Pr. 
Thou Moon that with thy Silver Light,  
Governest the Empire of the Night;  
Thee, Goddess, thee, we next Invoke,  
To see the fatal stroke.  
As Horror thou art pleased to see,  
Horror loves to g●●● on thee.  
Each Fiend, and every ghastly Spirit  
That so abhors thy Brother's Ray,  
Yet oft forsakes eternal Night  
To revel in thy paler Day.  Chor. 
Thee, Goddess, Thee we next invoke,  
Look down and see the fatal Stroke.   

IV.  2 Chor. 
She sees, she sees, a gloomy Red  
Has half her glowing Face overspread.  
But, oh behold, o'er half her Light,  
Some Charm dresses gloomy Night;  
It must be some Thessalian Charm,  
〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 your Trumpets, give the alarm;  
Let ●●● 〈…〉 the Sky,  
〈…〉,  
〈…〉 your Drums,  
A●●●●● the Victim die.   

V.  2 Pr. 
But hold, till lastly thee,  
〈◊〉 Hecate!  
Queen of Furies we invoke,  
Ascend and see the fatal Stroke.  
Ascend from everlasting Night,  
Blasting Nature with the sight;   

VI  
She comes, she cleaves the trembling Ground,  
And spreading horror all around,  
D●●●ly dies the misty Air,  
Her dark and gri●●ly Features fright,  
The coal black Steeds that drag the Night,  
And Nature's Centinels they scare,  
Hark how with dreary Shriek the Owl,  
And▪ frighted Wolves with dreadful Howl,  
Her dire approach declare.   
Chorus: 
She's here, her Guard of Furies se●,  
And Furies now as great are we,  
Her Spirit rages in our Souls,  
And in our frantic Eyes it rowls.  
To the dismal Deed she's come to excite us,  
And nothing but Blood can delight us;  
Give us Blood, give us Blood,  
Give us a Flood,  
Let it flow, let it flow,  
Strike, strike the fatal Blow.    A shout just as the Ode ends. Queen. 
Oh insolence, audacious, insupportable!  
Look out and see who 'tis that dares disturb  
The Execution of this dreadful Ceremony.  Enter Messenger. Mess. 
Great Queen, provide betimes for your security,  
The Greeks returning, bear down all before them,  
And the next moment will invest the Temple.  Queen. 
Are all the Gates madefast?  Mess. 
They're all with Bars of solid Brass secured.  Queen. 
Then I'll prevent them, Priestess do thy Duty.  Iph. 
Goddess, look down, thy Priestess is thy Victim.  Offers to stab herself, the Victim throws off his Veil, and 〈…〉 the Knife from her, discovering himself to be Pylades; 〈…〉 same time speaking as follows. Pil. 
Oh hold, 'tis Sacrilege to strike that stroke,  
Thy Beauties are the Darling care of Heaven;  
Look up, and see the Wonder it has wrought  
On purpose to preserve them.  Queen. 
May I believe my Eyes! Amazing sight!  Euph. 
Miraculous Events!  Pil. 
Thou thought'st to die for the dear Man thou lov'st,  
And I, alas, am come to die for him.  Iph. 
O all ye Powers whose Wisdom rules the Universe,  
Let me adore the Wonders of your Providence!  Queen. 
Revenge thy, injured Handmaid, great Diana!  
Revenge thy injured self, we're both betrayed,  
By my own faithless Subjects we're betrayed.  Pil. 
No, cruel Queen, thou seest I am come to die,  
And satisfy you both.  Queen. 
Where is thy Friend?  Pil. 
Where! at the Head of his Victorious Grecians.  Queen. 
Oh, cursed Fate!  
What brought thee here, to suffer in his stead?  Pil. 
Agreement with your Scythians, and desire  
To save the only Man of all the World,  
That's fit to be a Friend, by gaining time  
Enough for his Embarkment.  Queen. 
What hast thou said? Agreement with my Scythians?  
Oh the vile Traitors! Why should they agree to it?  Pil. 
To save themselves.  
After our Greeks had forced my Godlike Friend from them,  
They who soon found their Victim irretrievable,  
And knew what torments they must undergo,  
Unless they could make you think they had retrieved him,  
They who with Wonder had beheld the Power  
Of 〈…〉 Friendship in my Friend and me,  
To my Apartment come half dead with fear,  
Where they informed me of our Greatest Valour,  
Your Threats, their baseness, and my Friend's escape,  
I 〈…〉 gain time for his Embarkment,  
〈…〉 and die for him.  Queen. 
〈…〉 the Altar thus unbound?  Pil. 
〈…〉 I agreed with them.  
Death 〈…〉 embraced,  
But the 〈…〉 of a Slave,  
My free ●●●● soul disdained▪  
〈…〉 Was ever any thing thing so great?  
〈…〉 And yet so tender and so true?  
〈…〉 me Grecian, but so nobly,  
〈…〉 beauteous as thy Fraud,  
〈…〉 that thou must die,  
〈…〉 a God like Action!  
〈…〉 ●he! Must he die for it?  To Iph. 
〈…〉 it all ye Powers!  
〈…〉 selves inspired this wondrous Virtue,  
〈…〉 least, he ne'er shall die.  
〈…〉. But die th●●●●st;  
〈…〉 Rites, and great Revenge require it.  
〈…〉 thy Office.  
〈…〉 O● never, never!  
〈…〉. Ah, miserable Creature! think with trembling,  
What Vengeance thou art drawing on thy Head.  
●●● the time presses, I shall be prevented,  
●ake thou the sacred Steel, and strike the Blow.  To another Priestess. Scyth. 
Make way for the Elder of the Captives there, Make way.  Queen. 
For the Elder of the Captives!  As the other Priestess is going to strike, Orestes enters, runs between the Dagger and Pylades, and embraces him. Or. 
He lives, he lives, I have him in my Arms,  
This turn, ye Powers, has made amends for all.  Queen. 
Confusion! I am lost, the Greeks are here,  
Strike through them both.  Iph. 
Ah, cruel fight! Ah, Gods! I cannot bear it.  
Thus, let me intercept the barbarous Blow.  As the other Priestess goes to strike, Iphigenia interposes. Queen. 
O Death and Vengeance! Her, her Heart transfix.  Priest. 
Who's the chief Priestess?  Queen. 
Hers, lift thy executing Arm, haste, strike,  
I'm lost, undone, on every side betrayed,  
And the next moment we shall be prevented.  Or. 
O hurt not her, by Heaven and Earth I adjure you▪  
●o● I am come alone, and come to die.  Queen. 
What sayst thou? 'Tis impossible.  Or. 
'Tis certain.  Queen. 
Wert thou not Rescued by thy Friends?  Or. 
I was▪  Queen. 
Hast thou been retaken then by our Scythians?  Or. 
Your Scythians are dispersed, and we are Victors.  Queen. 
Where are thy Grecians then?  Or. 
Upon the horrid sommet of the Cliff,  
By my Command, obsequiously they wait.  Queen. 
How got you entrance?  Or. 
At the Iron Wicket of the Postern, where  
Armed with a hundred Javelins, Death stands Sentry,  
And none can there unlicensed pass and live.  Queen. 
What brought thee to this fatal place alone?  Or. 
I come to die.  Queen. 
Thou com'st to die! the Conqueror comes to die!  Or. 
After our Greeks had forced me from your Scythians,  
And the short Fury of the Fight was passed;  
As soon as the Retreat we slowly made,  
Had given me time for thought;  
My Joy soon vanished all, for soon I found  
That I had left all that I held most precious,  
All that was dear to my afflicted Soul,  
Even in the Jaws of Fate,  
Straight I prevailed upon my valiant Friends  
T'attempt a second Rescue.  
Then to my Friend's Apartment we all flew,  
To force his Guards, the Guards indeed we forced,  
But him we found not, there I grew informed  
Of his deplorable, tho' God▪ like purpose;  
That his inimitable Love for me  
Made him to a bloody doom devoted stand,  
At these inhuman Altars.  
Swift as a Storm we hurried to the Temple,  
But when I found the Massy Gates all barred,  
The dreadful Rites begun, and my poor Friend  
At the Altar, and about to breathe his last,  
To breathe his last for me;  
Witness ye Powers, that thought I could not bear,  
With rigorous Commands I enjoined my Friends  
To leave me to the adverse Gods and Fate.  
For Gods and Fate cried out that I must bleed,  
Or else surviving every minute die▪  
My Friends unwilling▪ yet with Tears obey'd;  
And here alone the Conquerour's's come to die.  Queen. 
Unheard of Friendship!  Euph. 
Unexampled Faith!  Iph. 
O Constancy Divine!  Queen. 
Was 〈◊〉 ●●●n so great a sight  
Of glorious Woe before!  Euph. to Iph. 
Courage, my Princess, for the Gods declare for us,  
They are here among us▪ they are manifest;  
For these are plainly more than Human Actions▪  Queen. 
I am o'ercome, I yield y' Almighty Powers,  
To hurt such Virtue were to touch yourselves,  
Such Virtue is Divinity.  
Here, set them free immediately.  Pr. 
Whom?  Queen. 
The Grecians.  Pr. 
Both?  Queen. 
Both.  Pr. 
Then, where's the Victim for our Solemn Rites?  Queen. 
The Goddess has herself declared her Victim.  Pr. 
Whom?  Queen. 
Inquire no more, but set thy Prisoners free.  Pr. 
They are free.  Queen▪ to Or. 
Grecian I need not be ashamed to own  
That I am charmed by thy exalted Virtue.  
The Immortal Powers themselves are fond of less.  
Twice in one night has it prevailed upon me  
To give thee Life, to give thee Liberty;  
But since thou show'st thou valuest not thy own,  
I here bestow thy Friends upon thee too.  Or. 
From my soul▪ I thank you.  Queen. 
But Custom, which▪ 〈◊〉 Scythians Law▪ requires▪  
That they whom my Prerogative▪ ●●●s free,  
Must become Scythians▪ by Espousing Scythians▪  
Or—  Or. 
But Liberty in that too will be necessary.  Queen. 
As free as is the Wind shall be thy choice:  
Thou shalt be forc'd in nothing, yet permit me▪  
To give thy Wife a Dowry worthy thee.  
Thy Souls surpassing greatness I admire!  
Which Heaven that formed it sure designed for Empire;  
Accept of mine, thy wiser nobler Sway  
Will polish these Barbarians into Men.  
Thine are the vast extended Plains of Tauris.  
Myself, my Subjects, Men and Women, all  
Shall governed be by thy unbounded Sway;  
The Sovereign Partner of thy Royal Bed  
Among a thousand Scythian Beauties choose,  
And make her happy who's most worthy thee.  
Then I am lost again.  Iph. aside. Pil. 
Art thou not moved?  Or. 
Amazed, confounded, Gods! Are these the words  
Of a Barbarian, of a Savage Scythian?  
But, be she what she will  
Such generous Passion I ne'er knew till now,  
No, not in Greece, but oh its Artful modesty!  Queen. 
What, no reply?  
My Present sure deserves at least your Thanks.  Or. 
Oh! It deserves much more than I can pay!  
Oh! It deserves my Heart, my very Soul:  
And now, even now I ought to be beheld  
Paying my Adorations at your Feet;  
And offering all myself with fervent Vows.  
But oh! have pity on so lost a Creature,  
Who has no Heart, no Soul, no Vows to pay,  
Who has given all these, who has given himself away  
A Voluntary Slave, one so accursed,  
That though he mortally detests Ingratitude,  
Yet wants the power, nay wants the very will  
To pay th' Immense acknowledgement he owes.  Queen. 
Suppose some God should free you from this Passion?  Or. 
I wish not to be free:  Queen. 
Yet put the Case you were this moment free,  
Might I expect to find you grateful then?  
For Grecian, I am loath to think you hate me.  Or. 
Hate you! O Heaven! of all your lovely Sex  
You I esteem, and you I most admire,  
Should I say more, I basely should deceive you.  
To wrong you in that Nature, that indeed  
Would be the height of black ingratitude.  
For all my softer thoughts another claims;  
Who, though the tenderest of her gentle Sex,  
Yet has a Tyrant's force upon my Soul.  
But were I not prevented by that Passion,  
Now Prostrate at your Feet you should behold me,  
Prouder to obey your absolute Commands  
Than to Control th' extended Plains of Tauris.  Queen. 
May I believe thee?  Or. 
Yes, could I have resolved to say what's false,  
You had heard a falsehood that would more have pleased you.  Queen. 
But swear.  Or. 
Propose the Oath.  Queen. 
Swear by the dreadful Altar you have escaped.  Or. 
By this Tremendous Altar than I swear.  Queen. 
This Altar than shall free that from a Passion  
That's so unworthy thee, 〈◊〉 like the Priestess,  To the Ministers. 
For her the Goddess 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her Victim.  
Here, take 〈◊〉, bind 〈◊〉 drag her to the Altar,  
And in her 〈◊〉 some plunge the Sacred Steel.  Pr. 
O Heaven! The Priestess!  Or. 
Impious Proposal!  Pil. 
Think not that we will e'er endure that sight.  Queen. 
Think not that you'll endure it! Think where you are.  
You both are in my power.  Pil. 
They who dare die are always in their own.  
Our Breasts shall intercept th' accursed blow.  Queen. 
Guards, 'tis your Duty to take care of that.  Or. 
No barbarous power can force us to survive her.  Queen. 
Die then, and prove the Plagues which for the Perjured  
The direful Goddesses prepare below,  
As soon as she expires, thou to be mine  
Hast by th' inviolable Altar sworn.  Or. 
In what a Maze, O Fate, am I entangled!  
But think, reflect, by all the Gods I adjure you.  
And Oh regard that lovely dying Face,  
Meek and resigned in these extremest Sufferings.  
Oh look and stop th' Abominable Blow!  
Mercy, sweet Mercy will itself  
Be murdered by that Blow.  
Look, cast your Eyes around, behold a sight  
Enough to dissolve Flint, see these Barbarians  
Whose Eyes have been enured to ghastly Murder,  
Whose Crimson Arms are died with horrid Grain,  
Even they Dissolve, they me●● their Eyes shed Tears,  
Those Cruel Eyes that never 〈◊〉 before.  
Look how they're seized with hidden Horror all!  
But above all look up, be hold your Goddess!  
Think that you see her 〈◊〉 wrathful Frown  
Denouncing Plagues on your Devoted Heads!  
Think that already her avenging Arms  
Are lifted, and prepare the dreadful Judgements  
That must be poured on this accursed Race,  
Revenging with its utter extirpation,  
Her Priestess Murdered, and here Shrine profaned.  Pr. 
Scythians, 'tis true.  
These Judgements we must fearfully expect  
If we lay impious Hands upon the Priestess.  All Scyth. 
Unbind the Priestess, set her free immediately.  Queen. 
Hear me first, Scythians, and you Grecians hear!  
Scythians, what slavish Doubt has seized your Souls?  
What fear you? To provoke the dreadful Goddess!  
This is her Victim; she herself has claimed her;  
Nay, and with so much vehemence has claimed her,  
She left th' Immortal Mansions of blessed Being's  
On purpose to demand her, and too long  
This Priestess has already lived Devoted to her.  
I till this hour, forgive it awful Goddess,  
I by a Tender weakness moved, preserved her;  
And Heaven best knows how I have been rewarded.  
Now for you, Grecians, you too shall be satisfied.  Pil. 
No, never, if she dies.  Queen. 
Yes, though she dies, for when you know this Priestess  
You will yourselves demand and urge her Fate.  
At least if you're the Sons of those brave Grecians  
Who carried their Heroic Arms to Asia,  
And with a thousand Sail Beleaguered Troy.  
With one accord your Fathers urged her Fate,  
Nay her own Father to the Altar doomed her,  
Because the severe Goddess had exacted her.  Pil. 
May I believe my Sense? Am I awake!  Or. 
O all y' Immortal Powers! How am I tortured  
By the fierce pangs of wondrous Expectation!  Queen. 
But Death by her Mother's Artifice she escaped,  
While a young Lesbian Slave in Shape and Size  
And Age resembling hers, in a long Veil  
Was at the Altar offered in hear stead.  Or. 
Support me! Gods! Support me!  Queen. 
Why dost thou thus exclaiming interrupt me?  Or. 
Oh! I have most amazing things to tell you!  
But first Important Questions I must ask.  
I have Important things t' inquire of her.  
And Queen, assure thyself on what I say  
Thy Peace, thy lasting Happiness depends.  Queen. 
Speak, but be short then, what are the Gods doing!  Or. 
Say then, poor, lost, abandoned Virgin, say,  
Didst thou from bleeding at a Grecian Altar  
By thy fond Mother's Artifice escape!  Iph. 
I did, and thank the Gods a thousand times for it;  
By that escape I have lived to die for thee.  Or. 
Talk not of Death, alas, but answer me,  
O thou art sure the▪ Darling Care of Providence,  
And it has wrought prodigious things to save thee!  
How comes it that thy strange Escape▪ in Greece  
Was never heard or talked of●  Iph. 
Of 〈…〉 wretched Parents  
Were 〈…〉 it, 〈…〉 night informed me  
They sadly 〈…〉 by a 〈…〉.  Or. 
O Miracle of 〈…〉 O Transport▪  Iph. 
My Sisters both werein 〈…〉 Infancy,  
My Brother scarce had seen the 〈…〉.  Or. 
By Heaven and Earth it can be none but 〈…〉,  
See Helen's Form upon that lovely Front!  Aside. 
Answer but one thing more, say from what Altar  
Didst thou escape, and by what Artifice?  Iph. 
Alas 'tis a long Story,  
And my weak Spirits, by my Grief oppressed,  
Will let me say no more.  
But in my Cabinet it large 'tis written,  
Yet grant me this, my first and last Request,  
To Greece transport the Writing.  Or. 
Talk not of Writings, Writings may be lost;  
But tell me in a word what I must say,  
What and to whom?  Iph. 
Inform my Friends and Kindred then at Argos,  
That the forlorn abandoned 〈…〉—  Or. 
O supreme Jove, whose Providence has wrought this!  Iph. 
What makes you lift your 〈…〉 to Heaven,  
And starting thus exclaim?  Or. 
Was ever Vision of the Night so strange,  
So wonderful as this! Say on, say on.  Iph. 
Tell them at Argos, that poor Iphigenia,  
Whom fondly they believed at 〈…〉 sacrific'd,  
Escaped the Altar there▪ but that the Goddess  
Upon the Shore of Tauris found her Victim.  
And with, O wish my Brother, my Orestes,  
A much more gentle Fate!  Or. 
Thus, thus, thy Brother, thy Orestes thanks thee.  Embraces. Iph. 
My Brother! Oh!  Or. 
My dearest Sister!  Iph. 
Can it be true!  
Or does my Sense, grown wild with Grief, delude me?  Qu. 
Her Brother! is it possible! her Brother!  Eup. 
Her Brother! and the powerful King of Argos▪  Qu. 
Is't possible! O the transporting Joy!  
Impetuous Flood of unexpected Rapture!  
Whether I live or no I cannot tell.  
Haste, Scythians, haste, upon your knees unbind her.  Pil. 
Hold off your barbarous hands, presumptuous Slaves,  
And let a Prince be honoured with that Task.  unbinds her. Or. 
O Queen! O Friend! O Sister!  
Was ever Night like this!  Pil. 
Thus to these lovely Limbs I Liberty restore.  
O would but the good Gods and she consent  
That I for ever might remain a Captive.  Qu. to Iph. 
Canst thou forgive me all this cruel Usage,  
Of which Love only could have made me guilty?  
Canst thou, thou tenderest of all Humankind?  joh. 
Can you so much as ask it? all my Soul  
Is to transporting Tenderness resigned.  Qu. 
Thou art all Goodness; in this strict Embrace  
Let all Unkindness be forgot for ever.  Or. 
Now, how shall we pay equal Thanks to Heaven,  
For this so great, so wonderful Deliverance?  
Chiefly with flaming Zeal our Thanks to thee,  
To thee our Thanks we pay, Divine Apollo!  
And thy unerring Oracle adore.  
Next, let me pay my Debt to thee, my Pylades,  
And with the best of Sisters let me bless  
The kindest, truest and the best of Friends.  
She cannot now be mine, and ne'er shall be another's,  
Take her my Friend, thou art my very self,  
The other, dearer Half of thy Orestes.  
Take her, and with her take ten thousand Joys,  
All the high Raptures thy fierce Passion promises▪  
Thou answerest not.  Pil. 
Oh, I want Breath to speak, I die with Ecstasy!  
And my tumultuous Thoughts above all Words are raised▪  
Here let me with dumb Eloquence express 'em,  
Here pour out the abundance of my Soul.  Kissing her Hand. Or. 
And next to you, great Queen, I pay my Acknowledgements,  
And now with Joy accept this Realm of Tauris,  
That at your Feet you may behold a Slave  
With two Imperial Sceptres.  
And now prepare to leave this barbarous Clime,  
Here but by Deputy henceforward reign,  
The Gods such Worth designed to govern Greece,  
To shine the Glory of the bravest Nation,  
And give example to a Race of Heroines,  
Who have Force to follow so sublime a Pattern.  
Your Goddess is the Partner of your Voyage.  
Whose Image great Apollo's Delphic Oracle▪  
Has with reiterated Voice demanded.  Qu. 
The Prodigies of this stupendous Night,  
And Vision of the last confirm that Oracle.  
With me the Goddess shall to Greece remove,  
And these inhuman Rites shall cease for ever.  Or. 
The Gods are good, and Lovers of Mankind,  
And that Religion that allows of Cruelty  
Is not divine, but impious and abominable.  
Lastly our Thanks once more we pay to thee,  
Son of immortal Jove, divine Apollo,  
Who hast made good thy bounteous Oracles.  
We are preserved, and mighty Love preserves us.  
Now, from this wondrous Night let Mortals learn,  
When in obedience to the Gods they tread  
The doubtful Paths of Destiny, to affront  
The dreadfullest Dangers with a dauntless Spirit.  
Let 'em not even in worst Extremes despair;  
For while they keep to Virtue's narrow Paths,  
With Guards invincible they march surrounded.  
The Gods who surely guide them on the way,  
From them no more than from themselves can stray,  
For Virtue's of Divinity a Ray.   
FINIS.  

EPILOGUE, by Coll. Codrington.  
OUR Bard shall end to night, as He began,  
Prologue, Play, Epilogue shall speak the Man,  
Show a more Tragic Poet if you can.  
With Pride he owns that he would gain your Hearts,  
But he will use no little Whorish Arts.  
With Pride he owns, that 'tis his glorious Aim  
To court and to possess the Tragic Dame.  
How can he court, or how can be possess,  
Who shames the Goddess by a foreign Dress?  
That decks her like a trivial merry Muse,  
Or a rank Strumpet, strolling from the Stews.  
Yet thus disguised she oft has here been shown,  
To all her genuine Votaries unknown,  
Yet still you thought the motley Garb her own.  
Oft have you seen her with the Comic Muse,  
Walk hand in hand, Grimace and Posture use,  
Debase her Majesty and Terror lose.  
What needs such Art your kind Applause to win  
What need such Farce to drive away your Spleen,  
Who thus are pleased have Farce enough within.  
Our Bard resolves to steer a different Course,  
And travel upwards to the Grecian Source.  
Where he at first saw the chaste, awful Maid,  
And with observing Eyes her Charms surveyed.  
Those Charms he would with a bold hand express,  
Nor make 'em ●ainter by an English Dress.  
To please the Great, the Generous, and the Fair,  
Shall ever be his Pride, and be his Care.  
Next he would stand the knowing Critics Test,  
To Fortune unconcerned he leaves the rest.  
For well he knows the Ignorant and the Base  
Scatter in waste their Censure and their Praise.  
FINIS.