THOAS. 
None in my presence with impunity
His naked weapon wears.

IPHIGENIA. 
Do not profane
Diana’s sanctuary with rage and blood. 
Command your people to forbear awhile,
And listen to the priestess, to the sister.

ORESTES. 
Say, who is he that threatens us?

IPHIGENIA. 
In him
Revere the king, who was my second father. 
Forgive me, brother, that my childlike heart
Hath plac’d our fate thus wholly in his hands. 
I have betray’d your meditated flight,
And thus from treachery redeem’d my soul.

ORESTES. 
Will he permit our peaceable return?

IPHIGENIA. 
Thy gleaming sword forbids me to reply.

ORESTES, sheathing his sword. 
Then speak! thou seest I listen to thy words.

SCENE V.

ORESTES.  IPHIGENIA.  THOAS.

Enter PYLADES, soon after him ARKAS, both with
drawn swords.

                  PYLADES. 

Do not delay! our friends are putting forth
Their final strength, and yielding step by step,
Are slowly driven backward to the sea.—­
A conference of princes find I here? 
Is this the sacred person of the king?

                   ARKAS. 

Calmly, as doth become thee, thou dost stand,
O king, surrounded by thine enemies. 
Soon their temerity shall be chastis’d;
Their yielding followers fly.—­their ship is ours. 
Speak but the word, and it is wrapt in flames.

THOAS. 
Go, and command my people to forbear! 
Let none annoy the foe while we confer. (Arkas retires.)

ORESTES.

I willingly consent.  Go, Pylades! 
Collect the remnant of our friends, and wait
The appointed issue of our enterprize.

          
                                                                            (Pylades retires.)

SCENE VI.

IPHIGENIA.  THOAS.  ORESTES.

                 IPHIGENIA. 

Believe my cares ere ye begin to speak. 
I fear contention, if thou wilt not hear
The voice of equity, O king,—­if thou
Wilt not, my brother, curb thy headstrong youth.

                   THOAS. 

I, as becomes the elder, check my rage. 
Now answer me:  how dost thou prove thyself
The priestess’ brother, Agamemnon’s son?

                  ORESTES. 

Behold the sword with which the hero slew
The valiant Trojans.  From his murderer
I took the weapon, and implor’d the Gods
To grant me Agamemnon’s mighty arm,
Success, and valour, with a death more noble. 
Select one of the leaders of thy host,
And place the best as my opponent here. 
Where’er on earth the sons of heroes dwell,
This boon is to the stranger ne’er refus’d.