| *** | |
| “ | Imperial Agamemnon, when he saw |
| His daughter, as a victim to the grave, | |
| Advancing, groan'd, and bursting into tears, | |
| Turned from the sight his head, before his eyes, | |
| Holding his robe. The virgin near him stood, | |
| And thus addressed him: ‘Father, I to thee | |
| Am present; for my country, and for all | |
| The land of Greece, I freely give myself | |
| A victim: to the altar let them lead me, | |
| Since such the oracle. If aught on me | |
| Depends, be happy, and obtain the prize | |
| Of glorious conquest, and revisit safe | |
| Your country. Of the Grecians, for this cause, | |
| Let no one touch me; with intrepid spirit | |
| Silent will I present my neck.’ She spoke, | |
| And all that heard revered the noble soul | |
| And virtue of the virgin.” |
How quickly had the fair bud bloomed up into its perfection. Had she lived a thousand years, she could not have surpassed this. Goethe's Iphigenia, the mature woman, with its myriad delicate traits, never surpasses, scarcely equals what we know of her in Euripides.
Can I appreciate this work in a translation? I think so, impossible as it may seem to one who can enjoy the thousand melodies, and words in exactly the right place and cadence of the original. They say you can see the Apollo Belvidere in a plaster cast, and I cannot doubt it, so great the benefit conferred on my mind, by a transcript thus imperfect. And so with these translations from the Greek. I can divine the original through this veil, as I can see the movements of a spirited horse by those of his coarse grasscloth muffler. Beside, every translator who feels his subject is inspired, and the divine Aura informs even his stammering lips.
