{"id":31,"date":"2017-06-24T20:36:20","date_gmt":"2017-06-24T20:36:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-geneseo-humanities1-1\/chapter\/the-bacchae-of-euripides-iii\/"},"modified":"2017-07-20T17:43:44","modified_gmt":"2017-07-20T17:43:44","slug":"the-bacchae-of-euripides-iii","status":"web-only","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-geneseo-humanities1-1\/chapter\/the-bacchae-of-euripides-iii\/","title":{"raw":"The Bacchae of Euripides III","rendered":"The Bacchae of Euripides III"},"content":{"raw":"

Dionysus<\/h3>\r\n
'Twere vain\r\nTo hide. They soon will track thee out.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Well said!\r\n'Twere best done openly.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Wilt thou be led\r\nBy me, and try the venture?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Aye, indeed!\r\nLead on. Why should we tarry?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
First we need\r\nA rich and trailing robe of fine-linen\r\nTo gird thee.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Nay; am I a woman, then,\r\nAnd no man more?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Wouldst have them slay thee dead?\r\nNo man may see their mysteries.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Well said!\u2014\r\nI marked thy subtle temper long ere now.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
'Tis Dionyse that prompteth me.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
And how\r\nMean'st thou the further plan?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
First take thy way\r\nWithin. I will array thee.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
What array?\r\nThe woman's? Nay, I will not.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Doth it change\r\nSo soon, all thy desire to see this strange\r\nAdoring?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Wait! What garb wilt thou bestow\r\nAbout me?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
First a long tress dangling low\r\nBeneath thy shoulders.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Aye, and next?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
The said\r\nRobe, falling to thy feet; and on thine head\r\nA snood.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
And after? Hast thou aught beyond?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Surely; the dappled fawn-skin and the wand.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(after a struggle with himself<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Enough! I cannot wear a robe and snood.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Wouldst liefer draw the sword and spill men's blood?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(again doubting<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

True, that were evil.\u2014Aye; 'tis best to go\r\nFirst to some place of watch.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Far wiser so,\r\nThan seek by wrath wrath's bitter recompense.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
What of the city streets? Canst lead me hence\r\nUnseen of any?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Lonely and untried\r\nThy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
I care for nothing, so these Bacchanals\r\nTriumph not against me! . . . Forward to my halls\r\nWithin!\u2014I will ordain what seemeth best.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
So be it, O King! 'Tis mine to obey thine hest,\r\nWhate'er it be.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(after hesitating once more and waiting<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Well, I will go\u2014perchance\r\nTo march and scatter them with serried lance,\r\nPerchance to take thy plan. . . . I know not yet.<\/div>\r\n

[Exit<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Damsels, the lion walketh to the net!\r\nHe finds his Bacchae now, and sees and dies,\r\nAnd pays for all his sin!\u2014O Dionyse,\r\nThis is thine hour and thou not far away.\r\nGrant us our vengeance!\u2014First, O Master, stay\r\nThe course of reason in him, and instil\r\nA foam of madness. Let his seeing will,\r\nWhich ne'er had stooped to put thy vesture on,\r\nBe darkened, till the deed is lightly done.\r\nGrant likewise that he find through all his streets\r\nLoud scorn, this man of wrath and bitter threats\r\nThat made Thebes tremble, led in woman's guise.\r\nI go to fold that robe of sacrifice\r\nOn Pentheus, that shall deck him to the dark,\r\nHis mother's gift!\u2014So shall he learn and mark\r\nGod's true Son, Dionyse, in fulness God,\r\nMost fearful, yet to man most soft of mood.<\/div>\r\n

[Exit<\/i> Dionysus<\/span>, following<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\r\n
\r\n\r\nWill they ever come to me, ever again,\r\nThe long long dances,\r\nOn through the dark till the dim stars wane?\r\nShall I feel the dew on my throat, and the stream\r\nOf wind in my hair? Shall our white feet gleam\r\nIn the dim expanses?\r\nOh, feet of a fawn to the greenwood fled,\r\nAlone in the grass and the loveliness;\r\nLeap of the hunted, no more in dread,\r\nBeyond the snares and the deadly press:\r\nYet a voice still in the distance sounds,\r\nA voice and a fear and a haste of hounds;\r\nO wildly labouring, fiercely fleet,\r\nOnward yet by river and glen . . .\r\nIs it joy or terror, ye storm-swift feet? . . .\r\nTo the dear lone lands untroubled of men,\r\nWhere no voice sounds, and amid the shadowy green\r\nThe little things of the woodland live unseen.\r\n\r\nWhat else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour\r\nOr God's high grace, so lovely and so great?\r\nTo stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;\r\nTo hold a hand uplifted over Hate;\r\nAnd shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

Others<\/h3>\r\n
\r\n\r\nO Strength of God, slow art thou and still,\r\nYet failest never!\r\nOn them that worship the Ruthless Will,\r\nOn them that dream, doth His judgment wait.\r\nDreams of the proud man, making great\r\nAnd greater ever,\r\nThings which are not of God. In wide\r\nAnd devious coverts, hunter-wise,\r\nHe coucheth Time's unhasting stride,\r\nFollowing, following, him whose eyes\r\nLook not to Heaven. For all is vain,\r\nThe pulse of the heart, the plot of the brain,\r\nThat striveth beyond the laws that live.\r\nAnd is thy Faith so much to give,\r\nIs it so hard a thing to see,\r\nThat the Spirit of God, whate'er it be,\r\nThe Law that abides and changes not, ages long,\r\nThe Eternal and Nature-born\u2014these things be strong?\r\n\r\nWhat else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour\r\nOr God's high grace so lovely and so great?\r\nTo stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;\r\nTo hold a hand uplifted over Hate;\r\nAnd shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Happy he, on the weary sea\r\nWho hath fled the tempest and won the haven.\r\nHappy whoso hath risen, free,\r\nAbove his striving. For strangely graven\r\nIs the orb of life, that one and another\r\nIn gold and power may outpass his brother.\r\nAnd men in their millions float and flow\r\nAnd seethe with a million hopes as leaven;\r\nAnd they win their Will, or they miss their Will,\r\nAnd the hopes are dead or are pined for still;\r\nBut whoe'er can know,\r\nAs the long days go,\r\nThat To Live is happy, hath found his Heaven!<\/div>\r\n

[Re-enter<\/i> Dionysus<\/span> from the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
O eye that cravest sights thou must not see,\r\nO heart athirst for that which slakes not! Thee,\r\nPentheus, I call; forth and be seen, in guise\r\nOf woman, Maenad, saint of Dionyse,\r\nTo spy upon His Chosen and thine own\r\nMother!<\/div>\r\n

[Enter<\/i> Pentheus<\/span>, clad like a Bacchanal, and strangely excited, a spirit of Bacchic madness overshadowing him<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Thy shape, methinks, is like to one\r\nOf Cadmus' royal maids!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Yea; and mine eye\r\nIs bright! Yon sun shines twofold in the sky,\r\nThebes twofold and the Wall of Seven Gates. . . .\r\nAnd is it a Wild Bull this, that walks and waits\r\nBefore me? There are horns upon thy brow!\r\nWhat art thou, man or beast? For surely now\r\nThe Bull is on thee!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
He who erst was wrath,\r\nGoes with us now in gentleness. He hath\r\nUnsealed thine eyes to see what thou shouldst see.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Say; stand I not as Ino stands, or she\r\nWho bore me?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
When I look on thee, it seems\r\nI see their very selves!\u2014But stay; why streams\r\nThat lock abroad, not where I laid it, crossed\r\nUnder the coif?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
I did it, as I tossed\r\nMy head in dancing, to and fro, and cried\r\nHis holy music!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(tending him<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

It shall soon be tied\r\nAright. 'Tis mine to tend thee. . . . Nay, but stand\r\nWith head straight.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
In the hollow of thy hand\r\nI lay me. Deck me as thou wilt.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Thy zone\r\nIs loosened likewise; and the folded gown\r\nNot evenly falling to the feet.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
'Tis so,\r\nBy the right foot. But here, methinks, they flow\r\nIn one straight line to the heel.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(while tending him<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

And if thou prove\r\nTheir madness true, aye, more than true, what love\r\nAnd thanks hast thou for me?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(not listening to him<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

In my right hand\r\nIs it, or thus, that I should bear the wand,\r\nTo be most like to them?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Up let it swing\r\nIn the right hand, timed with the right foot's spring. . . .\r\n'Tis well thy heart is changed!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(more wildly<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

What strength is this!\r\nKithaeron's steeps and all that in them is\u2014\r\nHow say'st thou?\u2014Could my shoulders lift the whole?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Surely thou canst, and if thou wilt! Thy soul,\r\nBeing once so sick, now stands as it should stand.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Shall it be bars of iron? Or this bare hand\r\nAnd shoulder to the crags, to wrench them down?<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Wouldst wreck the Nymphs' wild temples, and the brown\r\nRocks, where Pan pipes at noonday?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Nay; not I!\r\nForce is not well with women. I will lie\r\nHid in the pine-brake.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Even as fits a spy\r\nOn holy and fearful things, so shalt thou lie!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(with a laugh<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

They lie there now, methinks\u2014the wild birds, caught\r\nBy love among the leaves, and fluttering not!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
It may be. That is what thou goest to see,\r\nAye, and to trap them\u2014so they trap not thee!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Forth through the Thebans' town! I am their king,\r\nAye, their one Man, seeing I dare this thing!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Yea, thou shalt bear their burden, thou alone;\r\nTherefore thy trial awaiteth thee!\u2014But on;\r\nWith me into thine ambush shalt thou come\r\nUnscathed; then let another bear thee home!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
The Queen, my mother.<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Marked of every eye.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
For that I go!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Thou shalt be borne on high!<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
That were like pride!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Thy mother's hands shall share\r\nThy carrying.<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Nay; I need not such soft care!<\/div>\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
So soft?<\/div>\r\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Whate'er it be, I have earned it well!<\/div>\r\n

[Exit<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> towards the Mountain<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Fell, fell art thou; and to a doom so fell\r\nThou walkest, that thy name from South to North\r\nShall shine, a sign for ever!\u2014Reach thou forth\r\nThine arms, Ag\u00e2v\u00ea, now, and ye dark-browed\r\nCadmeian sisters! Greet this prince so proud\r\nTo the high ordeal, where save God and me,\r\nNone walks unscathed!\u2014The rest this day shall see.<\/div>\r\n

[Exit<\/i> Dionysus<\/span> following<\/i> Pentheus<\/span>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\r\n
O hounds raging and blind,\r\nUp by the mountain road,\r\nSprites of the maddened mind,\r\nTo the wild Maids of God;\r\nFill with your rage their eyes,\r\nRage at the rage unblest,\r\nWatching in woman's guise,\r\nThe spy upon God's Possessed.<\/div>\r\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\r\n
Who shall be first, to mark\r\nEyes in the rock that spy,\r\nEyes in the pine-tree dark\u2014\r\nIs it his mother?\u2014and cry:\r\n\"Lo, what is this that comes,\r\nHaunting, troubling still,\r\nEven in our heights, our homes,\r\nThe wild Maids of the Hill?\r\nWhat flesh bare this child?\r\nNever on woman's breast\r\nChangeling so evil smiled;\r\nMan is he not, but Beast!\r\nLion-shape of the wild,\r\nGorgon-breed of the waste!\"<\/div>\r\n

All the Chorus<\/h4>\r\n
Hither, for doom and deed!\r\nHither with lifted sword,\r\nJustice, Wrath of the Lord,\r\nCome in our visible need!\r\nSmite till the throat shall bleed,\r\nSmite till the heart shall bleed,\r\nHim the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Ech\u00eeon's earth-born seed!<\/div>\r\n

Other Maidens<\/h4>\r\n
Tyrannously hath he trod;\r\nMarched him, in Law's despite,\r\nAgainst thy Light, O God,\r\nYea, and thy Mother's Light;\r\nGirded him, falsely bold,\r\nBlinded in craft, to quell\r\nAnd by man's violence hold\r\nThings unconquerable.<\/div>\r\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\r\n
A strait pitiless mind\r\nIs death unto godliness;\r\nAnd to feel in human kind\r\nLife, and a pain the less.\r\nKnowledge, we are not foes!\r\nI seek thee diligently;\r\nBut the world with a great wind blows,\r\nShining, and not from thee;\r\nBlowing to beautiful things,\r\nOn, amid dark and light,\r\nTill Life, through the trammellings\r\nOf Laws that are not the Right,\r\nBreaks, clean and pure, and sings\r\nGlorying to God in the height!<\/div>\r\n

All the Chorus<\/h4>\r\n
Hither for doom and deed!\r\nHither with lifted sword,\r\nJustice, Wrath of the Lord,\r\nCome in our visible need!\r\nSmite till the throat shall bleed,\r\nSmite till the heart shall bleed,\r\nHim the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Ech\u00eeon's earth-born seed!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Appear, appear, whatso thy shape or name\r\nO Mountain Bull, Snake of the Hundred Heads,\r\nLion of Burning Flame!\r\nO God, Beast, Mystery, come! Thy mystic maids\r\nAre hunted!\u2014Blast their hunter with thy breath,\r\nCast o'er his head thy snare;\r\nAnd laugh aloud and drag him to his death,\r\nWho stalks thy herded madness in its lair!<\/div>\r\n

[Enter hastily a<\/i> Messenger<\/span> from the Mountain, pale and distraught<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Woe to the house once blest in Hellas! Woe\r\nTo thee, old King Sidonian, who didst sow\r\nThe dragon-seed on Ares' bloody lea!\r\nAlas, even thy slaves must weep for thee!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
News from the mountain?\u2014Speak! How hath it sped?<\/div>\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Pentheus, my king, Ech\u00eeon's son, is dead!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
All hail, God of the Voice,\r\nManifest ever more!<\/div>\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
What say'st thou?\u2014And how strange thy tone, as though\r\nIn joy at this my master's overthrow!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
With fierce joy I rejoice,\r\nChild of a savage shore;\r\nFor the chains of my prison are broken, and the dread\r\nwhere I cowered of yore!<\/div>\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
And deem'st thou Thebes so beggared, so forlorn\r\nOf manhood, as to sit beneath thy scorn?<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Thebes hath o'er me no sway!\r\nNone save Him I obey,\r\nDionysus, Child of the Highest, Him I obey and adore!<\/div>\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
One can forgive thee!\u2014Yet 'tis no fair thing,\r\nMaids, to rejoice in a man's suffering.<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Speak of the mountain side!\r\nTell us the doom he died,\r\nThe sinner smitten to death, even where his sin was sore!<\/div>\r\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
We climbed beyond the utmost habitings\r\nOf Theban shepherds, passed Asopus' springs,\r\nAnd struck into the land of rock on dim\r\nKithaeron\u2014Pentheus, and, attending him,\r\nI, and the Stranger who should guide our way.\r\nThen first in a green dell we stopped, and lay,\r\nLips dumb and feet unmoving, warily\r\nWatching, to be unseen and yet to see.\r\nA narrow glen it was, by crags o'ertowered,\r\nTorn through by tossing waters, and there lowered\r\nA shadow of great pines over it. And there\r\nThe Maenad maidens sate; in toil they were,\r\nBusily glad. Some with an ivy chain\r\nTracked a worn wand to toss its locks again;\r\nSome, wild in joyance, like young steeds set free,\r\nMade answering songs of mystic melody.\r\nBut my poor master saw not the great band\r\nBefore him. \"Stranger,\" cried he, \"where we stand\r\nMine eyes can reach not these false saints of thine.\r\nMount we the bank, or some high-shouldered pine,\r\nAnd I shall see their follies clear!\" At that\r\nThere came a marvel. For the Stranger straight\r\nTouched a great pine-tree's high and heavenward crown,\r\nAnd lower, lower, lower, urged it down\r\nTo the herbless floor. Round like a bending bow,\r\nOr slow wheel's rim a joiner forces to,\r\nSo in those hands that tough and mountain stem\r\nBowed slow\u2014oh, strength not mortal dwelt in them!\u2014\r\nTo the very earth. And there he set the King,\r\nAnd slowly, lest it cast him in its spring,\r\nLet back the young and straining tree, till high\r\nIt towered again amid the towering sky;\r\nAnd Pentheus in the branches! Well, I ween,\r\nHe saw the Maenads then, and well was seen!\r\nFor scarce was he aloft, when suddenly\r\nThere was no Stranger any more with me,\r\nBut out of Heaven a Voice\u2014oh, what voice else?\u2014\r\n'Twas He that called! \"Behold, O damosels,\r\nI bring ye him who turneth to despite\r\nBoth me and ye, and darkeneth my great Light.\r\n'Tis yours to avenge!\" So spake he, and there came\r\n'Twixt earth and sky a pillar of high flame.\r\nAnd silence took the air, and no leaf stirred\r\nIn all the forest dell. Thou hadst not heard\r\nIn that vast silence any wild thing's cry.\r\nAnd up they sprang; but with bewildered eye,\r\nAgaze and listening, scarce yet hearing true.\r\nThen came the Voice again. And when they knew\r\nTheir God's clear call, old Cadmus' royal brood,\r\nUp, like wild pigeons startled in a wood,\r\nOn flying feet they came, his mother blind,\r\nAg\u00e2v\u00ea, and her sisters, and behind\r\nAll the wild crowd, more deeply maddened then,\r\nThrough the angry rocks and torrent-tossing glen,\r\nUntil they spied him in the dark pine-tree:\r\nThen climbed a crag hard by and furiously\r\nSome sought to stone him, some their wands would fling\r\nLance-wise aloft, in cruel targeting.\r\nBut none could strike. The height o'ertopped their rage,\r\nAnd there he clung, unscathed, as in a cage\r\nCaught. And of all their strife no end was found.\r\nThen, \"Hither,\" cried Ag\u00e2v\u00ea; \"stand we round\r\nAnd grip the stem, my Wild Ones, till we take\r\nThis climbing cat-o'-the-mount! He shall not make\r\nA tale of God's high dances!\" Out then shone\r\nArm upon arm, past count, and closed upon\r\nThe pine, and gripped; and the ground gave, and down\r\nIt reeled. And that high sitter from the crown\r\nOf the green pine-top, with a shrieking cry\r\nFell, as his mind grew clear, and there hard by\r\nWas horror visible. 'Twas his mother stood\r\nO'er him, first priestess of those rites of blood.\r\nHe tore the coif, and from his head away\r\nFlung it, that she might know him, and not slay\r\nTo her own misery. He touched the wild\r\nCheek, crying: \"Mother, it is I, thy child,\r\nThy Pentheus, born thee in Ech\u00eeon's hall!\r\nHave mercy, Mother! Let it not befall\r\nThrough sin of mine, that thou shouldst slay thy son!\"\r\nBut she, with lips a-foam and eyes that run\r\nLike leaping fire, with thoughts that ne'er should be\r\nOn earth, possessed by Bacchios utterly,\r\nStays not nor hears. Round his left arm she put\r\nBoth hands, set hard against his side her foot,\r\nDrew . . . and the shoulder severed!\u2014Not by might\r\nOf arm, but easily, as the God made light\r\nHer hand's essay. And at the other side\r\nWas Ino rending; and the torn flesh cried,\r\nAnd on Autono\u00eb pressed, and all the crowd\r\nOf ravening arms. Yea, all the air was loud\r\nWith groans that faded into sobbing breath,\r\nDim shrieks, and joy, and triumph-cries of death.\r\nAnd here was borne a severed arm, and there\r\nA hunter's booted foot; white bones lay bare\r\nWith rending; and swift hands ensanguin\u00e8d\r\nTossed as in sport the flesh of Pentheus dead.\r\nHis body lies afar. The precipice\r\nHath part, and parts in many an interstice\r\nLurk of the tangled woodland\u2014no light quest\r\nTo find. And, ah, the head! Of all the rest,\r\nHis mother hath it, pierced upon a wand,\r\nAs one might pierce a lion's, and through the land,\r\nLeaving her sisters in their dancing place,\r\nBears it on high! Yea, to these walls her face\r\nWas set, exulting in her deed of blood,\r\nCalling upon her Bromios, her God,\r\nHer Comrade, Fellow-Render of the Prey,\r\nHer All-Victorious, to whom this day\r\nShe bears in triumph . . . her own broken heart!\r\nFor me, after that sight, I will depart\r\nBefore Ag\u00e2v\u00ea comes.\u2014Oh, to fulfil\r\nGod's laws, and have no thought beyond His will,\r\nIs man's best treasure. Aye, and wisdom true,\r\nMethinks, for things of dust to cleave unto!<\/div>\r\n

[The<\/i> Messenger<\/span> departs into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\r\n
Weave ye the dance, and call\r\nPraise to God!\r\nBless ye the Tyrant's fall!\r\nDown is trod\r\nPentheus, the Dragon's Seed!\r\nWore he the woman's weed?\r\nClasped he his death indeed,\r\nClasped the rod?<\/div>\r\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\r\n
Yea, the wild ivy lapt him, and the doomed\r\nWild Bull of Sacrifice before him loomed!<\/div>\r\n

Others<\/h3>\r\n
Ye who did Bromios scorn,\r\nPraise Him the more,\r\nBacchanals, Cadmus-born;\r\nPraise with sore\r\nAgony, yea, with tears!\r\nGreat are the gifts he bears!\r\nHands that a mother rears\r\nRed with gore!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
But stay, Ag\u00e2v\u00ea cometh! And her eyes\r\nMake fire around her, reeling! Ho, the prize\r\nCometh! All hail, O Rout of Dionyse!<\/div>\r\n

[Enter from the Mountain<\/i> Agave<\/span>, mad, and to all seeming wondrously happy, bearing the head of<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> in her hand. The<\/i> Chorus Maidens<\/span> stand horror-struck at the sight; the<\/i> Leader<\/span>, also horror-struck, strives to accept it and rejoice in it as the God's deed<\/i>.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Ye from the lands of Morn!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Call me not; I give praise!<\/div>\r\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Lo, from the trunk new-shorn\r\nHither a Mountain Thorn\r\nBear we! O Asia-born\r\nBacchanals, bless this chase!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
I see. Yea; I see.\r\nHave I not welcomed thee?<\/div>\r\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

(very calmly and peacefully<\/i>)<\/p>\r\n\r\n

He was young in the wildwood:\r\nWithout nets I caught him!\r\nNay; look without fear on\r\nThe Lion; I have ta'en him!<\/div>\r\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Where in the wildwood?\r\nWhence have ye brought him?<\/div>\r\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\r\n
Kithaeron. . . .<\/div>","rendered":"

Dionysus<\/h3>\n
‘Twere vain
\nTo hide. They soon will track thee out.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Well said!
\n‘Twere best done openly.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Wilt thou be led
\nBy me, and try the venture?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Aye, indeed!
\nLead on. Why should we tarry?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
First we need
\nA rich and trailing robe of fine-linen
\nTo gird thee.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Nay; am I a woman, then,
\nAnd no man more?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Wouldst have them slay thee dead?
\nNo man may see their mysteries.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Well said!\u2014
\nI marked thy subtle temper long ere now.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
‘Tis Dionyse that prompteth me.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
And how
\nMean’st thou the further plan?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
First take thy way
\nWithin. I will array thee.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
What array?
\nThe woman’s? Nay, I will not.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Doth it change
\nSo soon, all thy desire to see this strange
\nAdoring?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Wait! What garb wilt thou bestow
\nAbout me?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
First a long tress dangling low
\nBeneath thy shoulders.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Aye, and next?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
The said
\nRobe, falling to thy feet; and on thine head
\nA snood.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
And after? Hast thou aught beyond?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Surely; the dappled fawn-skin and the wand.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(after a struggle with himself<\/i>)<\/p>\n

Enough! I cannot wear a robe and snood.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Wouldst liefer draw the sword and spill men’s blood?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(again doubting<\/i>)<\/p>\n

True, that were evil.\u2014Aye; ’tis best to go
\nFirst to some place of watch.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Far wiser so,
\nThan seek by wrath wrath’s bitter recompense.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
What of the city streets? Canst lead me hence
\nUnseen of any?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Lonely and untried
\nThy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
I care for nothing, so these Bacchanals
\nTriumph not against me! . . . Forward to my halls
\nWithin!\u2014I will ordain what seemeth best.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
So be it, O King! ‘Tis mine to obey thine hest,
\nWhate’er it be.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(after hesitating once more and waiting<\/i>)<\/p>\n

Well, I will go\u2014perchance
\nTo march and scatter them with serried lance,
\nPerchance to take thy plan. . . . I know not yet.<\/div>\n

[Exit<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Damsels, the lion walketh to the net!
\nHe finds his Bacchae now, and sees and dies,
\nAnd pays for all his sin!\u2014O Dionyse,
\nThis is thine hour and thou not far away.
\nGrant us our vengeance!\u2014First, O Master, stay
\nThe course of reason in him, and instil
\nA foam of madness. Let his seeing will,
\nWhich ne’er had stooped to put thy vesture on,
\nBe darkened, till the deed is lightly done.
\nGrant likewise that he find through all his streets
\nLoud scorn, this man of wrath and bitter threats
\nThat made Thebes tremble, led in woman’s guise.
\nI go to fold that robe of sacrifice
\nOn Pentheus, that shall deck him to the dark,
\nHis mother’s gift!\u2014So shall he learn and mark
\nGod’s true Son, Dionyse, in fulness God,
\nMost fearful, yet to man most soft of mood.<\/div>\n

[Exit<\/i> Dionysus<\/span>, following<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\n
\n

Will they ever come to me, ever again,
\nThe long long dances,
\nOn through the dark till the dim stars wane?
\nShall I feel the dew on my throat, and the stream
\nOf wind in my hair? Shall our white feet gleam
\nIn the dim expanses?
\nOh, feet of a fawn to the greenwood fled,
\nAlone in the grass and the loveliness;
\nLeap of the hunted, no more in dread,
\nBeyond the snares and the deadly press:
\nYet a voice still in the distance sounds,
\nA voice and a fear and a haste of hounds;
\nO wildly labouring, fiercely fleet,
\nOnward yet by river and glen . . .
\nIs it joy or terror, ye storm-swift feet? . . .
\nTo the dear lone lands untroubled of men,
\nWhere no voice sounds, and amid the shadowy green
\nThe little things of the woodland live unseen.<\/p>\n

What else is Wisdom? What of man’s endeavour
\nOr God’s high grace, so lovely and so great?
\nTo stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
\nTo hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
\nAnd shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Others<\/h3>\n
\n

O Strength of God, slow art thou and still,
\nYet failest never!
\nOn them that worship the Ruthless Will,
\nOn them that dream, doth His judgment wait.
\nDreams of the proud man, making great
\nAnd greater ever,
\nThings which are not of God. In wide
\nAnd devious coverts, hunter-wise,
\nHe coucheth Time’s unhasting stride,
\nFollowing, following, him whose eyes
\nLook not to Heaven. For all is vain,
\nThe pulse of the heart, the plot of the brain,
\nThat striveth beyond the laws that live.
\nAnd is thy Faith so much to give,
\nIs it so hard a thing to see,
\nThat the Spirit of God, whate’er it be,
\nThe Law that abides and changes not, ages long,
\nThe Eternal and Nature-born\u2014these things be strong?<\/p>\n

What else is Wisdom? What of man’s endeavour
\nOr God’s high grace so lovely and so great?
\nTo stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
\nTo hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
\nAnd shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Happy he, on the weary sea
\nWho hath fled the tempest and won the haven.
\nHappy whoso hath risen, free,
\nAbove his striving. For strangely graven
\nIs the orb of life, that one and another
\nIn gold and power may outpass his brother.
\nAnd men in their millions float and flow
\nAnd seethe with a million hopes as leaven;
\nAnd they win their Will, or they miss their Will,
\nAnd the hopes are dead or are pined for still;
\nBut whoe’er can know,
\nAs the long days go,
\nThat To Live is happy, hath found his Heaven!<\/div>\n

[Re-enter<\/i> Dionysus<\/span> from the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
O eye that cravest sights thou must not see,
\nO heart athirst for that which slakes not! Thee,
\nPentheus, I call; forth and be seen, in guise
\nOf woman, Maenad, saint of Dionyse,
\nTo spy upon His Chosen and thine own
\nMother!<\/div>\n

[Enter<\/i> Pentheus<\/span>, clad like a Bacchanal, and strangely excited, a spirit of Bacchic madness overshadowing him<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Thy shape, methinks, is like to one
\nOf Cadmus’ royal maids!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Yea; and mine eye
\nIs bright! Yon sun shines twofold in the sky,
\nThebes twofold and the Wall of Seven Gates. . . .
\nAnd is it a Wild Bull this, that walks and waits
\nBefore me? There are horns upon thy brow!
\nWhat art thou, man or beast? For surely now
\nThe Bull is on thee!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
He who erst was wrath,
\nGoes with us now in gentleness. He hath
\nUnsealed thine eyes to see what thou shouldst see.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Say; stand I not as Ino stands, or she
\nWho bore me?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
When I look on thee, it seems
\nI see their very selves!\u2014But stay; why streams
\nThat lock abroad, not where I laid it, crossed
\nUnder the coif?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
I did it, as I tossed
\nMy head in dancing, to and fro, and cried
\nHis holy music!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(tending him<\/i>)<\/p>\n

It shall soon be tied
\nAright. ‘Tis mine to tend thee. . . . Nay, but stand
\nWith head straight.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
In the hollow of thy hand
\nI lay me. Deck me as thou wilt.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Thy zone
\nIs loosened likewise; and the folded gown
\nNot evenly falling to the feet.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
‘Tis so,
\nBy the right foot. But here, methinks, they flow
\nIn one straight line to the heel.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(while tending him<\/i>)<\/p>\n

And if thou prove
\nTheir madness true, aye, more than true, what love
\nAnd thanks hast thou for me?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(not listening to him<\/i>)<\/p>\n

In my right hand
\nIs it, or thus, that I should bear the wand,
\nTo be most like to them?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Up let it swing
\nIn the right hand, timed with the right foot’s spring. . . .
\n‘Tis well thy heart is changed!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(more wildly<\/i>)<\/p>\n

What strength is this!
\nKithaeron’s steeps and all that in them is\u2014
\nHow say’st thou?\u2014Could my shoulders lift the whole?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Surely thou canst, and if thou wilt! Thy soul,
\nBeing once so sick, now stands as it should stand.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Shall it be bars of iron? Or this bare hand
\nAnd shoulder to the crags, to wrench them down?<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Wouldst wreck the Nymphs’ wild temples, and the brown
\nRocks, where Pan pipes at noonday?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Nay; not I!
\nForce is not well with women. I will lie
\nHid in the pine-brake.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Even as fits a spy
\nOn holy and fearful things, so shalt thou lie!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n

(with a laugh<\/i>)<\/p>\n

They lie there now, methinks\u2014the wild birds, caught
\nBy love among the leaves, and fluttering not!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
It may be. That is what thou goest to see,
\nAye, and to trap them\u2014so they trap not thee!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Forth through the Thebans’ town! I am their king,
\nAye, their one Man, seeing I dare this thing!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Yea, thou shalt bear their burden, thou alone;
\nTherefore thy trial awaiteth thee!\u2014But on;
\nWith me into thine ambush shalt thou come
\nUnscathed; then let another bear thee home!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
The Queen, my mother.<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Marked of every eye.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
For that I go!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Thou shalt be borne on high!<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
That were like pride!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Thy mother’s hands shall share
\nThy carrying.<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Nay; I need not such soft care!<\/div>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
So soft?<\/div>\n

Pentheus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Whate’er it be, I have earned it well!<\/div>\n

[Exit<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> towards the Mountain<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Dionysus<\/span><\/h3>\n
Fell, fell art thou; and to a doom so fell
\nThou walkest, that thy name from South to North
\nShall shine, a sign for ever!\u2014Reach thou forth
\nThine arms, Ag\u00e2v\u00ea, now, and ye dark-browed
\nCadmeian sisters! Greet this prince so proud
\nTo the high ordeal, where save God and me,
\nNone walks unscathed!\u2014The rest this day shall see.<\/div>\n

[Exit<\/i> Dionysus<\/span> following<\/i> Pentheus<\/span>.]<\/p>\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\n
O hounds raging and blind,
\nUp by the mountain road,
\nSprites of the maddened mind,
\nTo the wild Maids of God;
\nFill with your rage their eyes,
\nRage at the rage unblest,
\nWatching in woman’s guise,
\nThe spy upon God’s Possessed.<\/div>\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\n
Who shall be first, to mark
\nEyes in the rock that spy,
\nEyes in the pine-tree dark\u2014
\nIs it his mother?\u2014and cry:
\n“Lo, what is this that comes,
\nHaunting, troubling still,
\nEven in our heights, our homes,
\nThe wild Maids of the Hill?
\nWhat flesh bare this child?
\nNever on woman’s breast
\nChangeling so evil smiled;
\nMan is he not, but Beast!
\nLion-shape of the wild,
\nGorgon-breed of the waste!”<\/div>\n

All the Chorus<\/h4>\n
Hither, for doom and deed!
\nHither with lifted sword,
\nJustice, Wrath of the Lord,
\nCome in our visible need!
\nSmite till the throat shall bleed,
\nSmite till the heart shall bleed,
\nHim the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Ech\u00eeon’s earth-born seed!<\/div>\n

Other Maidens<\/h4>\n
Tyrannously hath he trod;
\nMarched him, in Law’s despite,
\nAgainst thy Light, O God,
\nYea, and thy Mother’s Light;
\nGirded him, falsely bold,
\nBlinded in craft, to quell
\nAnd by man’s violence hold
\nThings unconquerable.<\/div>\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\n
A strait pitiless mind
\nIs death unto godliness;
\nAnd to feel in human kind
\nLife, and a pain the less.
\nKnowledge, we are not foes!
\nI seek thee diligently;
\nBut the world with a great wind blows,
\nShining, and not from thee;
\nBlowing to beautiful things,
\nOn, amid dark and light,
\nTill Life, through the trammellings
\nOf Laws that are not the Right,
\nBreaks, clean and pure, and sings
\nGlorying to God in the height!<\/div>\n

All the Chorus<\/h4>\n
Hither for doom and deed!
\nHither with lifted sword,
\nJustice, Wrath of the Lord,
\nCome in our visible need!
\nSmite till the throat shall bleed,
\nSmite till the heart shall bleed,
\nHim the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Ech\u00eeon’s earth-born seed!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Appear, appear, whatso thy shape or name
\nO Mountain Bull, Snake of the Hundred Heads,
\nLion of Burning Flame!
\nO God, Beast, Mystery, come! Thy mystic maids
\nAre hunted!\u2014Blast their hunter with thy breath,
\nCast o’er his head thy snare;
\nAnd laugh aloud and drag him to his death,
\nWho stalks thy herded madness in its lair!<\/div>\n

[Enter hastily a<\/i> Messenger<\/span> from the Mountain, pale and distraught<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
Woe to the house once blest in Hellas! Woe
\nTo thee, old King Sidonian, who didst sow
\nThe dragon-seed on Ares’ bloody lea!
\nAlas, even thy slaves must weep for thee!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
News from the mountain?\u2014Speak! How hath it sped?<\/div>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
Pentheus, my king, Ech\u00eeon’s son, is dead!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
All hail, God of the Voice,
\nManifest ever more!<\/div>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
What say’st thou?\u2014And how strange thy tone, as though
\nIn joy at this my master’s overthrow!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
With fierce joy I rejoice,
\nChild of a savage shore;
\nFor the chains of my prison are broken, and the dread
\nwhere I cowered of yore!<\/div>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
And deem’st thou Thebes so beggared, so forlorn
\nOf manhood, as to sit beneath thy scorn?<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Thebes hath o’er me no sway!
\nNone save Him I obey,
\nDionysus, Child of the Highest, Him I obey and adore!<\/div>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
One can forgive thee!\u2014Yet ’tis no fair thing,
\nMaids, to rejoice in a man’s suffering.<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Speak of the mountain side!
\nTell us the doom he died,
\nThe sinner smitten to death, even where his sin was sore!<\/div>\n

Messenger<\/span><\/h3>\n
We climbed beyond the utmost habitings
\nOf Theban shepherds, passed Asopus’ springs,
\nAnd struck into the land of rock on dim
\nKithaeron\u2014Pentheus, and, attending him,
\nI, and the Stranger who should guide our way.
\nThen first in a green dell we stopped, and lay,
\nLips dumb and feet unmoving, warily
\nWatching, to be unseen and yet to see.
\nA narrow glen it was, by crags o’ertowered,
\nTorn through by tossing waters, and there lowered
\nA shadow of great pines over it. And there
\nThe Maenad maidens sate; in toil they were,
\nBusily glad. Some with an ivy chain
\nTracked a worn wand to toss its locks again;
\nSome, wild in joyance, like young steeds set free,
\nMade answering songs of mystic melody.
\nBut my poor master saw not the great band
\nBefore him. “Stranger,” cried he, “where we stand
\nMine eyes can reach not these false saints of thine.
\nMount we the bank, or some high-shouldered pine,
\nAnd I shall see their follies clear!” At that
\nThere came a marvel. For the Stranger straight
\nTouched a great pine-tree’s high and heavenward crown,
\nAnd lower, lower, lower, urged it down
\nTo the herbless floor. Round like a bending bow,
\nOr slow wheel’s rim a joiner forces to,
\nSo in those hands that tough and mountain stem
\nBowed slow\u2014oh, strength not mortal dwelt in them!\u2014
\nTo the very earth. And there he set the King,
\nAnd slowly, lest it cast him in its spring,
\nLet back the young and straining tree, till high
\nIt towered again amid the towering sky;
\nAnd Pentheus in the branches! Well, I ween,
\nHe saw the Maenads then, and well was seen!
\nFor scarce was he aloft, when suddenly
\nThere was no Stranger any more with me,
\nBut out of Heaven a Voice\u2014oh, what voice else?\u2014
\n‘Twas He that called! “Behold, O damosels,
\nI bring ye him who turneth to despite
\nBoth me and ye, and darkeneth my great Light.
\n‘Tis yours to avenge!” So spake he, and there came
\n‘Twixt earth and sky a pillar of high flame.
\nAnd silence took the air, and no leaf stirred
\nIn all the forest dell. Thou hadst not heard
\nIn that vast silence any wild thing’s cry.
\nAnd up they sprang; but with bewildered eye,
\nAgaze and listening, scarce yet hearing true.
\nThen came the Voice again. And when they knew
\nTheir God’s clear call, old Cadmus’ royal brood,
\nUp, like wild pigeons startled in a wood,
\nOn flying feet they came, his mother blind,
\nAg\u00e2v\u00ea, and her sisters, and behind
\nAll the wild crowd, more deeply maddened then,
\nThrough the angry rocks and torrent-tossing glen,
\nUntil they spied him in the dark pine-tree:
\nThen climbed a crag hard by and furiously
\nSome sought to stone him, some their wands would fling
\nLance-wise aloft, in cruel targeting.
\nBut none could strike. The height o’ertopped their rage,
\nAnd there he clung, unscathed, as in a cage
\nCaught. And of all their strife no end was found.
\nThen, “Hither,” cried Ag\u00e2v\u00ea; “stand we round
\nAnd grip the stem, my Wild Ones, till we take
\nThis climbing cat-o’-the-mount! He shall not make
\nA tale of God’s high dances!” Out then shone
\nArm upon arm, past count, and closed upon
\nThe pine, and gripped; and the ground gave, and down
\nIt reeled. And that high sitter from the crown
\nOf the green pine-top, with a shrieking cry
\nFell, as his mind grew clear, and there hard by
\nWas horror visible. ‘Twas his mother stood
\nO’er him, first priestess of those rites of blood.
\nHe tore the coif, and from his head away
\nFlung it, that she might know him, and not slay
\nTo her own misery. He touched the wild
\nCheek, crying: “Mother, it is I, thy child,
\nThy Pentheus, born thee in Ech\u00eeon’s hall!
\nHave mercy, Mother! Let it not befall
\nThrough sin of mine, that thou shouldst slay thy son!”
\nBut she, with lips a-foam and eyes that run
\nLike leaping fire, with thoughts that ne’er should be
\nOn earth, possessed by Bacchios utterly,
\nStays not nor hears. Round his left arm she put
\nBoth hands, set hard against his side her foot,
\nDrew . . . and the shoulder severed!\u2014Not by might
\nOf arm, but easily, as the God made light
\nHer hand’s essay. And at the other side
\nWas Ino rending; and the torn flesh cried,
\nAnd on Autono\u00eb pressed, and all the crowd
\nOf ravening arms. Yea, all the air was loud
\nWith groans that faded into sobbing breath,
\nDim shrieks, and joy, and triumph-cries of death.
\nAnd here was borne a severed arm, and there
\nA hunter’s booted foot; white bones lay bare
\nWith rending; and swift hands ensanguin\u00e8d
\nTossed as in sport the flesh of Pentheus dead.
\nHis body lies afar. The precipice
\nHath part, and parts in many an interstice
\nLurk of the tangled woodland\u2014no light quest
\nTo find. And, ah, the head! Of all the rest,
\nHis mother hath it, pierced upon a wand,
\nAs one might pierce a lion’s, and through the land,
\nLeaving her sisters in their dancing place,
\nBears it on high! Yea, to these walls her face
\nWas set, exulting in her deed of blood,
\nCalling upon her Bromios, her God,
\nHer Comrade, Fellow-Render of the Prey,
\nHer All-Victorious, to whom this day
\nShe bears in triumph . . . her own broken heart!
\nFor me, after that sight, I will depart
\nBefore Ag\u00e2v\u00ea comes.\u2014Oh, to fulfil
\nGod’s laws, and have no thought beyond His will,
\nIs man’s best treasure. Aye, and wisdom true,
\nMethinks, for things of dust to cleave unto!<\/div>\n

[The<\/i> Messenger<\/span> departs into the Castle<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Chorus<\/span><\/h3>\n

Some Maidens<\/h4>\n
Weave ye the dance, and call
\nPraise to God!
\nBless ye the Tyrant’s fall!
\nDown is trod
\nPentheus, the Dragon’s Seed!
\nWore he the woman’s weed?
\nClasped he his death indeed,
\nClasped the rod?<\/div>\n

A Bacchanal<\/h4>\n
Yea, the wild ivy lapt him, and the doomed
\nWild Bull of Sacrifice before him loomed!<\/div>\n

Others<\/h3>\n
Ye who did Bromios scorn,
\nPraise Him the more,
\nBacchanals, Cadmus-born;
\nPraise with sore
\nAgony, yea, with tears!
\nGreat are the gifts he bears!
\nHands that a mother rears
\nRed with gore!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
But stay, Ag\u00e2v\u00ea cometh! And her eyes
\nMake fire around her, reeling! Ho, the prize
\nCometh! All hail, O Rout of Dionyse!<\/div>\n

[Enter from the Mountain<\/i> Agave<\/span>, mad, and to all seeming wondrously happy, bearing the head of<\/i> Pentheus<\/span> in her hand. The<\/i> Chorus Maidens<\/span> stand horror-struck at the sight; the<\/i> Leader<\/span>, also horror-struck, strives to accept it and rejoice in it as the God’s deed<\/i>.]<\/p>\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\n
Ye from the lands of Morn!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Call me not; I give praise!<\/div>\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\n
Lo, from the trunk new-shorn
\nHither a Mountain Thorn
\nBear we! O Asia-born
\nBacchanals, bless this chase!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
I see. Yea; I see.
\nHave I not welcomed thee?<\/div>\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\n

(very calmly and peacefully<\/i>)<\/p>\n

He was young in the wildwood:
\nWithout nets I caught him!
\nNay; look without fear on
\nThe Lion; I have ta’en him!<\/div>\n

Leader<\/span><\/h3>\n
Where in the wildwood?
\nWhence have ye brought him?<\/div>\n

Agave<\/span><\/h3>\n
Kithaeron. . . .<\/div>\n\n\t\t\t
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Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Public domain content<\/div>