IPHIGENEIA IN TAURICA.
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Chorus.
Stranger, thou sinn'st, polluting Artemis' priestess,
Casting about her sacred robes thine arm!
Orestes.
O sister mine, thou of one father sprung, 800
Agamemnon, turn not thou away from me,
Who hast thy brother, past expectancy!
Iphigeneia.
I?—thee?—my brother?—wilt not hold thy peace?
Argos and Nauplia know his presence now.[1]
Orestes.
Not there, unhappy one, thy brother is. 805
Iphigeneia.
Did Tyndareus' Spartan daughter bear thee then?
Orestes.
To Pelops' son's son, of whose loins I sprang.
Iphigeneia.
What say'st thou?—hast thou proof hereof for me?
Orestes.
I have. Ask somewhat of our father's home.
Iphigeneia.
Now nay; 'tis thou must speak, 'tis I must learn. 810
