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(Character | Iphigenia | |
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Gender | Female | |
Age Range(s) | Teenager (13-19), Young Adult (20-35) | |
Type of monologue / Character is | Crying, Dying, Lamenting, Frustrated, Afraid | |
Type | Dramatic | |
Period | Ancient Greek | |
Genre | Tragedy, Drama | |
Description | Iphigenia pleads to her father not to sacrifice her | |
Location | End of play |
Summary
The story of Iphigenia at Aulis would be the background story of Aeschylus' Agamemnon. The play takes place at Aulis where the Greek army is ready to sail for Troy and start the war. The goddess Artemis, however, has made so that there are no winds for sail since Agamemnon , a Greek general, has caused her offense. In order to satisfy the goddess, Agamemnon learns that he has to sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia. He asks Clytemnestra, his wife, to send Iphigenia to Aulis so that she can marry Achilles, the greatest of Greek warriors.
The play starts with Agamemnon changing his mind. He sends another message to his wife to stop her from sending Iphigenia. The message, however, is intercepted by Menelaus, his brother, who gets upset at his brother. During the play they debate whether they should go ahead with the sacrifice and eventually Agamemnon makes up his mind to do it but Menelaus changes his mind. When Clytemnestra and Iphigenia arrive, they learn the truth. First Clytemnestra begs for her daughter's life, then in this monologue Iphigenia begs for her life to her father.
The play starts with Agamemnon changing his mind. He sends another message to his wife to stop her from sending Iphigenia. The message, however, is intercepted by Menelaus, his brother, who gets upset at his brother. During the play they debate whether they should go ahead with the sacrifice and eventually Agamemnon makes up his mind to do it but Menelaus changes his mind. When Clytemnestra and Iphigenia arrive, they learn the truth. First Clytemnestra begs for her daughter's life, then in this monologue Iphigenia begs for her life to her father.
Written by Administrator
Excerpt |
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IPHIGENIA Had I, my father, the persuasive voice Of Orpheus, and his skill to charm the rocks To follow me, and soothe whome'er I please With winning words, I would make trial of it; But I have nothing to present thee now Save tears, my only eloquence; and those I can present thee. On thy knees I hang, A suppliant wreath, this body, which she bore To thee. Ah! kill me not in youth's fresh prime. Sweet is the light of heaven; compel me not What is beneath to view. I was the first To call thee father, me thou first didst call Thy child; I was the first that on thy knees Fondly caressed thee, and from thee received The fond caress; this was thy speech to me: "Shall I, my child, e'er see thee in some house Of splendour, happy in thy husband, live, And flourish, as becomes my dignity?" My speech to thee was, leaning 'gainst thy cheek, Which with my hand I now caress: "And what Shall I then do for thee? Shall I receive My father when grown old, and in my house Cheer him with each fond office, to repay The careful nurture which he gave my youth?" These words are on my memory deep impressed; Thou hast forgot them, and wilt kill thy child. By Pelops I entreat thee, by thy sire Atreus, by this my mother, who before Suffered for me the pangs of childbirth, now These pangs again to suffer, do not kill me. If Paris be enamoured of his bride, His Helen, what concerns it me? and how Comes he to my destruction? Look upon me, Give me a smile, give me a kiss, my father, That, if my words persuade thee not, in death I may have this memorial of thy love. My brother, small assistance canst thou give Thy friends, yet for thy sister with thy tears Implore thy father that she may not die: E'en infants have a sense of ills: and see, My father, silent though he be, he sues To thee: be gentle to me, on my life Have pity. Thy two children by this beard Entreat thee, thy dear children: one is yet An infant, one to riper years arrived. I will sum all in this, which shall contain More than long speech: To view the light of life To mortals is most sweet, but all beneath Is nothing: of his senses is he reft Who hath a wish to die; for life, though ill, Excels whate'er there is of good in death. |