Pylades: Yes, I will raise thy tomb: thy sister's bed
I never will betray, unhappy youth,
For I will hold thee dearer when thou art dead,
Than while thou livest; nor hath yet the voice
Of Phoebus quite destroy'd thee, though thou stand
To sometimes mighty but sometimes mighty woes
Yield mighty changes, so when Fortune wills.
Orestes: Forbear: the words of Phoebus naught avail me;
For, passing from the shrine, the virgin comes. (Iphigenia enters
from the temple. She is carrying a letter.)
Iphigenia: (to the guards) Go you away, and in the shrine prepare
What those, who o'er the rites preside, require. (The guards go into
the temple.) Here, strangers, is the letter folded close:
What I would further, hear. The mind of man
In dangers, and again, from fear relieved,
Of safety when assured, is not the same:
I therefore fear lest he, who should convey
To Argos this epistle, when return'd
Safe to his native country, will neglect
My letter, as a thing of little worth.