thinking that he drove the sword sharply into me; and she settled me in this land. This is my letter, this is the writing in the tablet.PyladesYou have bound me with an easy oath, and sworn very well. I will not take much time to carry out the oath I swore.See, Orestes, I bring you a tablet from your sister here, and give it to you. OrestesI do receive it, but first I will pass over the letter’s folds to take a joy that is not in words.(Approaching to embrace Iphigenia.) My dearest sister, with what astonishment and delight I hold you in my unbelieving arms, after learning these marvels!Chorus LeaderStranger, you are wrongly defiling the attendant of the goddess, by putting your hands on her robe that should not be touched.OrestesMy own sister, born from my father Agamemnon, do not turn away from me, when you hold your brother and thought you never would!IphigeniaYou are my brother? Stop this talk! He is well known in Argos and Nauplia.OrestesUnhappy girl, your brother is not there.IphigeniaBut did Tyndareus’ daughter, the Spartan, give birth to you?OrestesYes, and my father was Pelops’ grandson.IphigeniaWhat are you saying? Do you have some proof of this for me?OrestesI do; ask me something about our father’s home.IphigeniaWell, it is for you to speak, for me to learn.OrestesI will say first what I have heard from Electra. Do you know of the strife that was between Atreus and Thyestes?IphigeniaI have heard of it; the quarrel concerned a golden ram.OrestesDid you not weave these things in a fine-textured web?IphigeniaO dearest, you are bending your course near to my heart!OrestesAnd the image of the sun in the middle of the loom?IphigeniaI wove that shape also, in fine threads.OrestesAnd you received a ceremonial bath from your mother, for Aulis?IphigeniaI know; for no happy marriage has taken that memory from me.OrestesWhat about this? You gave locks of your hair to be brought to your mother?IphigeniaAs a memorial, in place of my body, in the tomb.OrestesWhat I myself have seen, I will say for proof: an old spear of Pelops, in my father’s house, which he brandished in his hand when he won Hippodamia, the maiden of Pisa, and killed Oenomaus; it was hung up in your rooms.IphigeniaO dearest, for you are my dearest, none other, I have you, Orestes, far from our country of Argos, my darling.

OrestesAnd I have you, who were thought to be dead. Tears, and laments mixed with joy, fill your eyes and also mine.