The dead king's son, lives he in Argos still?

ORESTES.
He lives, now here, now nowhere, bent with ill.

IPHIGENIA.
O dreams, light dreams, farewell! Ye too were lies.

ORESTES.
Aye; the gods too, whom mortals deem so wise,
Are nothing clearer than some winged dream;
And all their ways, like man's ways, but a stream
Of turmoil. He who cares to suffer least,
Not blind, as fools are blinded, by a priest,
Goes straight... to what death, those who know him know.

LEADER.
We too have kinsmen dear, but, being low,
None heedeth, live they still or live they not.

IPHIGENIA (WITH SUDDEN IMPULSE).
Listen! For I am fallen upon a thought,
Strangers, of some good use to you and me,
Both. And 'tis thus most good things come to be,
When different eyes hold the same for fair.

Stranger, if I can save thee, wilt thou bear
To Argos and the friends who loved my youth
Some word? There is a tablet which, in truth
For me and mine ill works, a prisoner wrote,