A God of Heaven is he,
And born in majesty;
Yet hath he mirth
In the joy of the Earth,
And he loveth constantly
Her who brings increase,
The Feeder of Children, Peace.
No grudge hath he of the great;
No scorn of the mean estate;
But to all that liveth His wine he giveth,
Griefless, immaculate;
Only on them that spurn
Joy, may his anger burn.
Love thou the Day and the Night;
Be glad of the Dark and the Light;
And avert thine eyes From the lore of the wise,
That have honour in proud men's sight.
The simple nameless herd of Humanity
Hath deeds and faith that are truth enough for me!
[ As the Chorus ceases, a party of the guards return, leading in the
midst of them DIONYSUS, bound. The SOLDIER in command stands forth,
as PENTHEUS, hearing the tramp of feet, comes out from the Castle. ]
SOLDIER
Our quest is finished, and thy prey, O King,
Caught; for the chase was swift, and this wild thing
Most tame; yet never flinched, nor thought to flee,
But held both hands out unresistingly—
No change, no blanching of the wine-red cheek.
He waited while we came, and bade us wreak
All thy decree; yea, laughed, and made my best
Easy, till I for very shame confessed
And said: "O stranger, not of mine own will
I bind thee, but his bidding to fulfil
Who sent me."
And those prisoned Maids withal
Whom thou didst seize and bind within the wall
Of thy great dungeon, they are fled, O King.
Free in the woods, a-dance and glorying
To Bromios. Of their own impulse fell
To earth, men say, fetter and manacle,
And bars slid back untouched of mortal hand
Yea, full of many wonders to thy land
Is this man come.... Howbeit, it lies with thee!
PENTHEUS
Ye are mad!—Unhand him. Howso swift he be,
My toils are round him and he shall not fly.
[ The guards loose the arms of DIONYSUS; PENTHEUS studies him for a
while in silence then speaks jeeringly. DIONYSUS remains gentle
and unafraid. ]
Marry, a fair shape for a woman's eye,
Sir stranger! And thou seek'st no more, I ween!
Long curls, withal! That shows thou ne'er hast been
A wrestler!—down both cheeks so softly tossed
And winsome! And a white skin! It hath cost
Thee pains, to please thy damsels with this white
And red of cheeks that never face the light!
[ DIONYSUS is silent. ]
Speak, sirrah; tell me first thy name and race.
DIONYSUS
No glory is therein, nor yet disgrace.
Thou hast heard of Tmolus, the bright hill of flowers?
PENTHEUS
Surely, the ridge that winds by Sardis towers.
DIONYSUS
Thence am I; Lydia was my fatherland.
PENTHEUS
And whence these revelations, that thy band
Spreadeth in Hellas?
DIONYSUS
Their intent and use
Dionysus oped to me, the Child of Zeus.
PENTHEUS ( brutally )
Is there a Zeus there, that can still beget
Young Gods?
DIONYSUS
Nay, only He whose seal was set
Here in thy Thebes on Semele.
PENTHEUS
What way
Descended he upon thee? In full day
Or vision of night?
DIONYSUS
Most clear he stood, and scanned
My soul, and gave his emblems to mine hand.
PENTHEUS
What like be they, these emblems?
DIONYSUS
That may none
Reveal, nor know, save his Elect alone.
PENTHEUS
And what good bring they to the worshipper?
DIONYSUS
Good beyond price, but not for thee to hear.
PENTHEUS
Thou trickster? Thou wouldst prick me on the more
To seek them out!
DIONYSUS
His mysteries abhor
The touch of sin-lovers.
PENTHEUS
And so thine eyes
Saw this God plain; what guise had he?
DIONYSUS
What guise
It liked him. 'Twas not I ordained his shape.
PENTHEUS
Aye, deftly turned again. An idle jape,
And nothing answered!
DIONYSUS
Wise words being brought
To blinded eyes will seem as things of nought.
PENTHEUS
And comest thou first to Thebes, to have thy God
Established?
DIONYSUS
Nay; all Barbary hath trod
His dance ere this.
PENTHEUS
A low blind folk, I ween,
Beside our Hellenes!
DIONYSUS
Higher and more keen
In this thing, though their ways are not thy way.
PENTHEUS
How is thy worship held, by night or day?
DIONYSUS
Most oft by night; 'tis a majestic thing,
The darkness.
PENTHEUS
Ha! with women worshipping?
'Tis craft and rottenness!
DIONYSUS
By day no less,
Whoso will seek may find unholiness—
PENTHEUS
Enough! Thy doom is fixed, for false pretence
Corrupting Thebes.
DIONYSUS
Not mine; but thine, for dense
Blindness of heart, and for blaspheming God!
PENTHEUS
A ready knave it is, and brazen-browed,
This mystery-priest!
DIONYSUS
Come, say what it shall be,
My doom; what dire thing wilt thou do to me?
PENTHEUS
First, shear that delicate curl that dangles there.
[ He beckons to the soldiers, who approach DIONYSUS.]
DIONYSUS
I have vowed it to my God; 'tis holy hair.
[ The soldiers cut off the tress.]
PENTHEUS
Next, yield me up thy staff!
DIONYSUS
Raise thine own hand
To take it. This is Dionysus' wand.
[PENTHEUS takes the staff.]
PENTHEUS
Last, I will hold thee prisoned here.
DIONYSUS
My Lord
God will unloose me, when I speak the word.
PENTHEUS
He may, if e'er again amid his bands
Of saints he hears thy voice!
DIONYSUS
Even now he stands
Close here, and sees all that I suffer.
PENTHEUS
What?
Where is he? For mine eyes discern him not.
DIONYSUS
Where I am! 'Tis thine own impurity
That veils him from thee.
PENTHEUS
The dog jeers at me!
At me and Thebes! Bind him!
[ The soldiers begin to bind him.]
DIONYSUS
I charge ye, bind
Me not! I having vision and ye blind!
PENTHEUS
And I, with better right, say bind the more!
[ The soldiers obey.]
DIONYSUS
Thou knowest not what end thou seekest, nor
What deed thou doest, nor what man thou art!
PENTHEUS ( mocking )
Agvê's son, and on the father's part
Echion's, hight Pentheus!
DIONYSUS
So let it be,
A name fore-written to calamity!
PENTHEUS
Away, and tie him where the steeds are tied;
Aye, let him lie in the manger!—There abide
And stare into the darkness!—And this rout
Of womankind that clusters thee about,
Thy ministers of worship, are my slaves!
It may be I will sell them o'er the waves,
Hither and thither; else they shall be set
To labour at my distaffs, and forget
Their timbrel and their songs of dawning day!
DIONYSUS
I go; for that which may not be, I may
Not suffer! Yet for this thy sin, lo, He
Whom thou deniest cometh after thee
For recompense. Yea, in thy wrong to us,
Thou hast cast Him into thy prison-house!
[DIONYSUS, without his wand, his hair shorn, and his arms tightly
bound, is led off by the guards to his dungeon. PENTHEUS returns
into the Palace. ]
CHORUS
Some Maidens
Achelous' roaming daughter,
Holy Dircê, virgin water,
Bathed he not of old in thee,
The Babe of God, the Mystery?
When from out the fire immortal
To himself his God did take him,
To his own flesh, and bespake him:
"Enter now life's second portal,
Motherless Mystery; lo, I break
Mine own body for thy sake,
Thou of the Twofold Door, and seal thee
Mine, O Bromios,"—thus he spake—
"And to this thy land reveal thee."
All
Still my prayer toward thee quivers,
Dircê, still to thee I hie me;
Why, O Blessed among Rivers,
Wilt thou fly me and deny me?
By His own joy I vow,
By the grape upon the bough,
Thou shalt seek Him in the midnight, thou shalt love Him, even now!
Other Maidens
Dark and of the dark impassioned
Is this Pentheus' blood; yea, fashioned
Of the Dragon, and his birth
From Echion, child of Earth.
He is no man, but a wonder;
Did the Earth-Child not beget him,
As a red Giant, to set him
Against God, against the Thunder?
He will bind me for his prize,
Me, the Bride of Dionyse;
And my priest, my friend, is taken
Even now, and buried lies;
In the dark he lies forsaken!
All
Lo, we race with death, we perish,
Dionysus, here before thee!
Dost thou mark us not, nor cherish,
Who implore thee, and adore thee?
Hither down Olympus' side,
Come, O Holy One defied,
Be thy golden wand uplifted o'er the tyrant in his pride!
A Maiden
Oh, where art thou? In thine own
Nysa, thou our help alone?
O'er fierce beasts in orient lands
Doth thy thronging thyrsus wave,
By the high Corycian Cave,
Or where stern Olympus stands;
In the elm-woods and the oaken,
There where Orpheus harped of old,
And the trees awoke and knew him,
And the wild things gathered to him,
As he sang amid the broken
Glens his music manifold?
Dionysus loveth thee;
Blessed Land of Pirie,
He will come to thee with dancing,
Come with joy and mystery;
With the Maenads at his hest
Winding, winding to the West;
Cross the flood of swiftly glancing
Axios in majesty;
Cross the Lydias, the giver
Of good gifts and waving green;
Cross that Father-Stream of story,
Through a land of steeds and glory
Rolling, bravest, fairest River
E'er of mortals seen!
A VOICE WITHIN
Io! Io!
Awake, ye damsels; hear my cry,
Calling my Chosen; hearken ye!
A MAIDEN
Who speaketh? Oh, what echoes thus?
ANOTHER
A Voice, a Voice, that calleth us!
THE VOICE
Be of good cheer! Lo, it is I,
The Child of Zeus and Semelê.
A MAIDEN
O Master, Master, it is Thou!
ANOTHER
O Holy Voice, be with us now!
THE VOICE
Spirit of the Chained Earthquake,
Hear my word; awake, awake!
[ An Earthquake suddenly shakes the pillars of the Castle. ]
A MAIDEN
Ha! what is coming? Shall the hall
Of Pentheus racked in ruin fall?
LEADER
Our God is in the house! Ye maids adore Him!
CHORUS
We adore Him all!
THE VOICE
Unveil the Lightning's eye; arouse
The fire that sleeps, against this house!
[ Fire leaps upon the Tomb of Semelê. ]
A MAIDEN
Ah, saw ye, marked ye there the flame
From Semelê's enhallowed sod
Awakened? Yea, the Death that came
Ablaze from heaven of old, the same
Hot splendour of the shaft of God?
LEADER
Oh cast ye, cast ye, to the earth! The Lord
Cometh against this house! Oh, cast ye down,
Ye trembling damsels; He, our own adored,
God's Child hath come, and all is overthrown!
[ The Maidens cast themselves upon the ground, their eyes earthward.
DIONYSUS, alone and unbound, enters from the Castle. ]
DIONYSUS
Ye Damsels of the Morning Hills, why lie ye thus dismayed?
Ye marked him, then, our Master, and the mighty hand he laid
On tower and rock, shaking the house of Pentheus?—But arise,
And cast the trembling from your flesh, and lift untroubled eyes.
LEADER
O Light in Darkness, is it thou? O Priest, is this thy face?
My heart leaps out to greet thee from the deep of loneliness.
DIONYSUS
Fell ye so quick despairing, when beneath the Gate I passed?
Should the gates of Pentheus quell me, or his darkness make me fast?
LEADER
Oh, what was left if thou wert gone? What could I but despair?
How hast thou 'scaped the man of sin? Who freed thee from the snare?
DIONYSUS
I had no pain nor peril; 'twas mine own hand set me free.
LEADER
Thine arms were gyvèd!
DIONYSUS
Nay, no gyve, no touch, was laid on me!
'Twas there I mocked him, in his gyves, and gave him dreams for food.
For when he laid me down, behold, before the stall there stood
A Bull of Offering. And this King, he bit his lips and straight
Fell on and bound it, hoof and limb, with gasping wrath and sweat.
And I sat watching!—Then a Voice; and lo, our Lord was come,
And the house shook, and a great flame stood o'er his mother's tomb.
And Pentheus hied this way and that, and called his thralls amain
For water, lest his roof-tree burn; and all toiled, all in vain.
Then deemed a-sudden I was gone; and left his fire, and sped
Back to the prison portals, and his lifted sword shone red.
But there, methinks, the God had wrought—I speak but as I guess—
Some dream-shape in mine image; for he smote at emptiness,
Stabbed in the air, and strove in wrath, as though 'twere me he slew.
Then 'mid his dreams God smote him yet again! He overthrew
All that high house. And there in wreck for evermore it lies,
That the day of this my bondage may be sore in Pentheus' eyes!
And now his sword is fallen, and he lies outworn and wan
Who dared to rise against his God in wrath, being but man.
And I uprose and left him, and in all peace took my path
Force to my Chosen, recking light of Pentheus and his wrath.
But soft, methinks a footstep sounds even now within the hall;
'Tis he; how think ye he will stand, and what words speak withal?
I will endure him gently, though he come in fury hot.
For still are the ways of Wisdom, and her temper trembleth not!
[ Enter PENTHEUS in fury ]
PENTHEUS
It is too much! This Eastern knave hath slipped
His prison, whom I held but now, hard gripped
In bondage.—Ha! 'Tis he!—What, sirrah, how
Show'st thou before my portals?
[ He advances furiously upon him. ]
DIONYSUS
And set a quiet carriage to thy rage.
PENTHEUS
How comest thou here? How didst thou break thy cage?
Speak!
DIONYSUS
Said I not, or didst thou mark not me,
There was One living that should set me free?
PENTHEUS
Who? Ever wilder are these tales of thine.
DIONYSUS
He who first made for man the clustered vine.
PENTHEUS
I scorn him and his vines.
DIONYSUS
For Dionyse
'Tis well; for in thy scorn his glory lies.
PENTHEUS ( to his guard )
Go swift to all the towers, and bar withal
Each gate!
DIONYSUS
What, cannot God o'erleap a wall?
PENTHEUS
Oh, wit thou hast, save where thou needest it!
DIONYSUS
Whereso it most imports, there is my wit!—
Nay, peace! Abide till he who hasteth from
The mountain side with news for thee, be come.
We will not fly, but wait on thy command.
[ Enter suddenly and in haste a Messenger from the Mountain. ]
MESSENGER
Great Pentheus, Lord of all this Theban land,
I come from high Kithaeron, where the frore
Snow spangles gleam and cease not evermore....
PENTHEUS
And what of import may thy coming bring?
MESSENGER
I have seen the Wild White Women there, O King,
Whose fleet limbs darted arrow-like but now
From Thebes away, and come to tell thee how
They work strange deeds and passing marvel. Yet
I first would learn thy pleasure. Shall I set
My whole tale forth, or veil the stranger part?
Yea Lord, I fear the swiftness of thy heart,
Thine edgèd wrath and more than royal soul.
PENTHEUS
Thy tale shall nothing scathe thee.—Tell the whole.
It skills not to be wroth with honesty.
Nay, if thy news of them be dark, 'tis he
Shall pay it, who bewitched and led them on.
MESSENGER
Our herded kine were moving in the dawn
Up to the peaks, the greyest, coldest time,
When the first rays steal earthward, and the rime
Yields, when I saw three bands of them. The one
Autono led, one Ino, one thine own
Mother, Agvê. There beneath the trees
Sleeping they lay, like wild things flung at ease
In the forest; one half sinking on a bed
Of deep pine greenery; one with careless head
Amid the fallen oak leaves; all most cold
In purity—not as thy tale was told
Of wine-cups and wild music and the chase
For love amid the forest's loneliness.
Then rose the Queen Agvê suddenly
Amid her band, and gave the God's wild cry,
"Awake, ye Bacchanals! I hear the sound
Of hornèd kine. Awake ye!"—Then, all round,
Alert, the warm sleep fallen from their eyes,
A marvel of swift ranks I saw them rise,
Dames young and old, and gentle maids unwed
Among them. O'er their shoulders first they shed
Their tresses, and caught up the fallen fold
Of mantles where some clasp had loosened hold,
And girt the dappled fawn-skins in with long
Quick snakes that hissed and writhed with quivering tongue.
And one a young fawn held, and one a wild
Wolf cub, and fed them with white milk, and smiled
In love, young mothers with a mother's breast
And babes at home forgotten! Then they pressed
Wreathed ivy round their brows, and oaken sprays
And flowering bryony. And one would raise
Her wand and smite the rock, and straight a jet
Of quick bright water came. Another set
Her thyrsus in the bosomed earth, and there
Was red wine that the God sent up to her,
A darkling fountain. And if any lips
Sought whiter draughts, with dipping finger-tips
They pressed the sod, and gushing from the ground
Came springs of milk. And reed-wands ivy-crowned
Ran with sweet honey, drop by drop.—O King,
Hadst thou been there, as I, and seen this thing,
With prayer and most high wonder hadst thou gone
To adore this God whom now thou rail'st upon!
Howbeit, the kine-wardens and shepherds straight
Came to one place, amazed, and held debate;
And one being there who walked the streets and scanned
The ways of speech, took lead of them whose hand
Knew but the slow soil and the solemn hill,
And flattering spoke, and asked: "Is it your will,
Masters, we stay the mother of the King,
Agvê, from her lawless worshipping,
And win us royal thanks?"—And this seemed good
To all; and through the branching underwood
We hid us, cowering in the leaves. And there
Through the appointed hour they made their prayer
And worship of the Wand, with one accord
Of heart and cry—"Iacchos, Bromios, Lord,
God of God born!"—And all the mountain felt,
And worshipped with them; and the wild things knelt
And ramped and gloried, and the wilderness
Was filled with moving voices and dim stress.
Soon, as it chanced, beside my thicket-close
The Queen herself passed dancing, and I rose
And sprang to seize her. But she turned her face
Upon me: "Ho, my rovers of the chase,
My wild White Hounds, we are hunted! Up, each rod
And follow, follow, for our Lord and God!"
Thereat, for fear they tear us, all we fled
Amazed; and on, with hand unweaponèd
They swept toward our herds that browsed the green
Hill grass. Great uddered kine then hadst thou seen
Bellowing in sword-like hands that cleave and tear,
A live steer riven asunder, and the air
Tossed with rent ribs or limbs of cloven tread,
And flesh upon the branches, and a red
Rain from the deep green pines. Yea, bulls of pride,
Horns swift to rage, were fronted and aside
Flung stumbling, by those multitudinous hands
Dragged pitilessly. And swifter were the bands
Of garbèd flesh and bone unbound withal
Than on thy royal eyes the lids may fall.
Then on like birds, by their own speed upborne,
They swept toward the plains of waving corn
That lie beside Asopus' banks, and bring
To Thebes the rich fruit of her harvesting.
On Hysiae and Erythrae that lie nursed
Amid Kithaeron's bowering rocks, they burst
Destroying, as a foeman's army comes.
They caught up little children from their homes,
High on their shoulders, babes unheld, that swayed
And laughed and fell not; all a wreck they made;
Yea, bronze and iron did shatter, and in play
Struck hither and thither, yet no wound had they;
Caught fire from out the hearths, yea, carried hot
Flames in their tresses and were scorchèd not!
The village folk in wrath took spear and sword,
And turned upon the Bacchae. Then, dread Lord,
The wonder was. For spear nor barbèd brand
Could scathe nor touch the damsels; but the Wand,
The soft and wreathèd wand their white hands sped,
Blasted those men and quelled them, and they fled
Dizzily. Sure some God was in these things!
And the holy women back to those strange springs
Returned, that God had sent them when the day
Dawned, on the upper heights; and washed away
The stain of battle. And those girdling snakes
Hissed out to lap the waterdrops from cheeks
And hair and breast.
Therefore I counsel thee
O King, receive this Spirit, whoe'er he be,
To Thebes in glory. Greatness manifold
Is all about him; and the tale is told
That this is he who first to man did give
The grief-assuaging vine. Oh, let him live;
For if he die, then Love herself is slain,
And nothing joyous in the world again!
LEADER
Albeit I tremble, and scarce may speak my thought
To a king's face, yet will I hide it not.
Dionyse is God, no God more true nor higher!
PENTHEUS
It bursts hard by us, like a smothered fire,
This frenzy of Bacchic women! All my land
Is made their mock.—This needs an iron hand!
Ho, Captain! Quick to the Electran Gate;
Bid gather all my men-at-arms thereat;
Call all that spur the charger, all who know
To wield the orbèd targe or bend the bow;
We march to war—'Fore God, shall women dare
Such deeds against us? 'Tis too much to bear!
DIONYSUS
Thou mark'st me not, O King, and holdest light
My solemn words; yet, in thine own despite,
I warn thee still. Lift thou not up thy spear
Against a God, but hold thy peace, and fear
His wrath! He will not brook it, if thou fright
His Chosen from the hills of their delight.
PENTHEUS
Peace, thou! And if for once thou hast slipped chain,
Give thanks!—Or shall I knot thine arms again?
DIONYSUS
Better to yield him prayer and sacrifice
Than kick against the pricks, since Dionyse
Is God, and thou but mortal.
PENTHEUS
That will I!
Yea, sacrifice of women's blood, to cry
His name through all Kithaeron!
DIONYSUS
Ye shall fly,
All, and abase your shields of bronzen rim
Before their wands.
PENTHEUS
There is no way with him,
This stranger that so dogs us! Well or ill
I may entreat him, he must babble still!
DIONYSUS
Wait, good my friend! These crooked matters may
Even yet be straightened.
[PENTHEUS has started as though to seek his army at the gate. ]
PENTHEUS
Aye, if I obey
Mine own slaves' will; how else?
DIONYSUS
Myself will lead
The damsels hither, without sword or steed.
PENTHEUS
How now?—This is some plot against me!
DIONYSUS
What
Dost fear? Only to save thee do I plot.
PENTHEUS
It is some compact ye have made, whereby
To dance these hills for ever!
DIONYSUS
Verily,
That is my compact, plighted with my Lord!
PENTHEUS ( turning from him )
Ho, armourers! Bring forth my shield and sword!—
And thou, be silent!
DIONYSUS ( after regarding him fixedly, speaks with resignation )
Ah!—Have then thy will!
[ He fixes his eyes upon PENTHEUS again, while the armourers bring out
his armour; then speaks in a tone of command. ]
Man, thou wouldst fain behold them on the hill
Praying!
PENTHEUS ( who during the rest of this scene, with a few exceptions,
simply speaks the thoughts that DIONYSUS puts into him, losing power
over his own mind )
That would I, though it cost me all
The gold of Thebes!
DIONYSUS
So much? Thou art quick to fall
To such great longing.
PENTHEUS ( somewhat bewildered at what he has said )
Aye; 'twould grieve me much
To see them flown with wine.
DIONYSUS
Yet cravest thou such
A sight as would much grieve thee?
PENTHEUS
Yes; I fain
Would watch, ambushed among the pines.
DIONYSUS
'Twere vain
To hide. They soon will track thee out.
PENTHEUS
Well said!
'Twere best done openly.
DIONYSUS
Wilt thou be led
By me, and try the venture?
PENTHEUS
Aye, indeed!
Lead on. Why should we tarry?
DIONYSUS
First we need
A rich and trailing robe of fine-linen
To gird thee.
PENTHEUS
Nay; am I a woman, then,
And no man more.
DIONYSUS
Wouldst have them slay thee dead?
No man may see their mysteries.
PENTHEUS
Well said'—
I marked thy subtle temper long ere now.
DIONYSUS
'Tis Dionyse that prompteth me.
PENTHEUS
And how
Mean'st thou the further plan?
DIONYSUS
First take thy way
Within. I will array thee.
PENTHEUS
What array!
The woman's? Nay, I will not.
DIONYSUS
Doth it change
So soon, all thy desire to see this strange
Adoring?
PENTHEUS
Wait! What garb wilt thou bestow
About me?
DIONYSUS
First a long tress dangling low
Beneath thy shoulders.
PENTHEUS
Aye, and next?
DIONYSUS
The same red
Robe, falling to thy feet; and on thine head
A snood.
PENTHEUS
And after? Hast thou aught beyond?
DIONYSUS
Surely; the dappled fawn-skin and the wand.
PENTHEUS ( after a struggle with himself )
Enough! I cannot wear a robe and snood.
DIONYSUS
Wouldst liefer draw the sword and spill men's blood?
PENTHEUS ( again doubting )
True, that were evil.—Aye; 'tis best to go
First to some place of watch.
DIONYSUS
Far wiser so,
Than seek by wrath wrath's bitter recompense.
PENTHEUS
What of the city streets? Canst lead me hence
Unseen of any?
DIONYSUS
Lonely and untried
Thy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!
PENTHEUS
I care for nothing, so these Bacchanals
Triumph not against me!...Forward to my halls
Within!—I will ordain what seemeth best.
DIONYSUS
So be it, O King! 'Tis mine to obey thine hest,
Whate'er it be.
PENTHEUS ( after hesitating once more and waiting )
Well, I will go—perchance
To march and scatter them with serried lance.
Perchance to take thy plan.... I know not yet.
[ Exit PENTHEUS into the Castle. ]
DIONYSUS
Damsels, the lion walketh to the net!
He finds his Bacchae now, and sees and dies,
And pays for all his sin!—O Dionyse,
This is thine hour and thou not far away.
Grant us our vengeance!—First, O Master, stay
The course of reason in him, and instil
A foam of madness. Let his seeing will,
Which ne'er had stooped to put thy vesture on,
Be darkened, till the deed is lightly done.
Grant likewise that he find through all his streets
Loud scorn, this man of wrath and bitter threats
That made Thebes tremble, led in woman's guise.
I go to fold that robe of sacrifice
On Pentheus, that shall deck him to the dark.
His mother's gift!—So shall he learn and mark
God's true Son, Dionyse, in fulness God,
Most fearful, yet to man most soft of mood.
[ Exit DIONYSUS, following PENTHEUS into Castle. ]
CHORUS
Some Maidens
Will they ever come to me, ever again,
The long long dances,
On through the dark till the dim stars wane?
Shall I feel the dew on my throat, and the stream
Of wind in my hair? Shall our white feet gleam
In the dim expanses?
Oh, feet of a fawn to the greenwood fled,
Alone in the grass and the loveliness;
Leap of the hunted, no more in dread,
Beyond the snares and the deadly press:
Yet a voice still in the distance sounds,
A voice and a fear and a haste of hounds;
O wildly labouring, fiercely fleet,
Onward yet by river and glen...
Is it joy or terror, ye storm-swift feet?...
To the dear lone lands untroubled of men,
Where no voice sounds, and amid the shadowy green
The little things of the woodland live unseen.
What else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour
Or God's high grace, so lovely and so great?
To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?
Others
O Strength of God, slow art thou and still,
Yet failest never!
On them that worship the Ruthless Will,
On them that dream, doth His judgment wait.
Dreams of the proud man, making great
And greater ever,
Things which are not of God. In wide
And devious coverts, hunter-wise,
He coucheth Time's unhasting stride,
Following, following, him whose eyes
Look not to Heaven. For all is vain,
The pulse of the heart, the plot of the brain,
That striveth beyond the laws that live.
And is thy Fate so much to give,
Is it so hard a thing to see,
That the Spirit of God, whate'er it be,
The Law that abides and changes not, ages long,
The Eternal and Nature-born—these things be strong?
What else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour
Or God's high grace so lovely and so great?
To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?
LEADER
Happy he, on the weary sea
Who hath fled the tempest and won the haven.
Happy whoso hath risen, free,
Above his striving. For strangely graven
Is the orb of life, that one and another
In gold and power may outpass his brother,
And men in their millions float and flow
And seethe with a million hopes as leaven;
And they win their Will, or they miss their Will,
And the hopes are dead or are pined for still,
But whoe'er can know,
As the long days go,
That To Live is happy, hath found his Heaven!
[ Re-enter DIONYSUS, from the Castle ]
DIONYSUS
O eye that cravest sights thou must not see,
O heart athirst for that which slakes not! Thee,
Pentheus, I call; forth and be seen, in guise
Of woman, Maenad, saint of Dionyse,
To spy upon His Chosen and thine own
Mother!
[ Enter PENTHEUS, clad like a Bacchanal, and strangely excited,
a spirit of Bacchic madness overshadowing him. ]
Thy shape, methinks, is like to one
Of Cadmus' royal maids!
PENTHEUS
Yea; and mine eye
Is bright! Yon sun shines twofold in the sky,
Thebes twofold and the Wall of Seven Gates....
And is it a Wild Bull this, that walks and waits
Before me? There are horns upon thy brow!
What art thou, man or beast! For surely now
The Bull is on thee!
DIONYSUS
He who erst was wrath,
Goes with us now in gentleness. He hath
Unsealed thine eyes to see what thou shouldst see.
PENTHEUS
Say; stand I not as Ino stands, or she
Who bore me?
DIONYSUS
When I look on thee, it seems
I see their very selves!—But stay; why streams
That lock abr not where I laid it, crossed
Under the coif?
PENTHEUS
I did it, as I tossed
My head in dancing, to and fro, and cried
His holy music!
DIONYSUS ( tending him )
It shall soon be tied
Aright. 'Tis mine to tend thee.... Nay, but stand
With head straight.
PENTHEUS
In the hollow of thine hand
I lay me. Deck me as thou wilt.
DIONYSUS
Thy zone
Is loosened likewise; and the folded gown
Not evenly falling to the feet.
PENTHEUS
'Tis so,
By the right foot. But here methinks, they flow
In one straight line to the heel.
DIONYSUS ( while tending him )
And if thou prove
Their madness true, aye, more than true, what love
And thanks hast thou for me?
PENTHEUS ( not listening to him )
In my right hand
Is it, or thus, that I should bear the wand
To be most like to them?
DIONYSUS
Up let it swing
In the right hand, timed with the right foot's spring....
'Tis well thy heart is changed!
PENTHEUS ( more wildly )
What strength is this!
Kithaeron's steeps and all that in them is—
How say'st thou?—Could my shoulders lift the whole?
DIONYSUS
Surely thou canst, and if thou wilt! Thy soul,
Being once so sick, now stands as it should stand.
PENTHEUS
Shall it be bars of iron? Or this bare hand
And shoulder to the crags, to wrench them down?
DIONYSUS
Wouldst wreck the Nymphs' wild temples, and the brown
Rocks, where Pan pipes at noonday?
PENTHEUS
Nay; not I!
Force is not well with women. I will lie
Hid in the pine-brake.
DIONYSUS
Even as fits a spy
On holy and fearful things, so shalt thou lie!
PENTHEUS ( with a laugh )
They lie there now, methinks—the wild birds, caught
By love among the leaves, and fluttering not!
DIONYSUS
It may be. That is what thou goest to see,
Aye, and to trap them—so they trap not thee!
PENTHEUS
Forth through the Thebans' town! I am their king,
Aye, their one Man, seeing I dare this thing!
DIONYSUS
Yea, thou shalt bear their burden, thou alone;
Therefore thy trial awaiteth thee!—But on;
With me into thine ambush shalt thou come
Unscathed; then let another bear thee home!
PENTHEUS
The Queen, my mother.
DIONYSUS
Marked of every eye.
PENTHEUS
For that I go!
DIONYSUS
Thou shalt be borne on high!
PENTHEUS
That were like pride!
DIONYSUS
Thy mother's hands shall share
Thy carrying.
PENTHEUS
Nay; I need not such soft care!
DIONYSUS
So soft?
PENTHEUS
Whate'er it be, I have earned it well!
[ Exit PENTHEUS towards the Mountain. ]
DIONYSUS
Fell, fell art thou; and to a doom so fell
Thou walkest, that thy name from South to North
Shall shine, a sign for ever!—Reach thou forth
Thine arms, Agvê, now, and ye dark-browed
Cadmeian sisters! Greet this prince so proud
To the high ordeal, where save God and me,
None walks unscathed!—The rest this day shall see.
[ Exit DIONYSUS following PENTHEUS.]
CHORUS
Some Maidens
O hounds raging and blind,
Up by the mountain r
Sprites of the maddened mind,
To the wild Maids of God;
Fill with your rage their eyes,
Rage at the rage unblest,
Watching in woman's guise,
The spy upon God's Possessed.
A Bacchanal
Who shall be first, to mark
Eyes in the rock that spy,
Eyes in the pine-tree dark—
Is it his mother?—and cry:
"Lo, what is this that comes,
Haunting, troubling still,
Even in our heights, our homes,
The wild Maids of the Hill?
What flesh bare this child?
Never on woman's breast
Changeling so evil smiled;
Man is he not, but Beast!
Loin-shape of the wild,
Gorgon-breed of the waste!"
All the Chorus
Hither, for doom and deed!
Hither with lifted sword,
Justice, Wrath of the Lord,
Come in our visible need!
Smite till the throat shall bleed,
Smite till the heart shall bleed,
Him the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Echon's earthborn seed!
Other Maidens
Tyrannously hath he trod;
Marched him, in Law's despite,
Against thy Light, O God,
Yea, and thy Mother's Light;
Girded him, falsely bold,
Blinded in craft, to quell
And by man's violence hold,
Things unconquerable
A Bacchanal
A strait pitiless mind
Is death unto godliness;
And to feel in human kind
Life, and a pain the less.
Knowledge, we are not foes!
I seek thee diligently;
But the world with a great wind blows,
Shining, and not from thee;
Blowing to beautiful things,
On, amid dark and light,
Till Life, through the trammellings
Of Laws that are not the Right,
Breaks, clean and pure, and sings
Glorying to God in the height!
All the Chorus
Hither for doom and deed!
Hither with lifted sword,
Justice, Wrath of the Lord,
Come in our visible need!
Smite till the throat shall bleed,
Smite till the heart shall bleed,
Him the tyrannous, lawless, Godless, Echion's earthborn seed!
LEADER
Appear, appear, whatso thy shape or name
O Mountain Bull, Snake of the Hundred Heads,
Lion of Burning Flame!
O God, Beast, Mystery, come! Thy mystic maids
Are hunted!—Blast their hunter with thy breath,
Cast o'er his head thy snare;
And laugh aloud and drag him to his death,
Who stalks thy herded madness in its lair!
[ Enter hastily a MESSENGER from the Mountain, pale and distraught. ]
MESSENGER
Woe to the house once blest in Hellas! Woe
To thee, old King Sidonian, who didst sow
The dragon-seed on Ares' bloody lea!
Alas, even thy slaves must weep for thee!
LEADER
News from the mountain?—Speak! How hath it sped?
MESSENGER
Pentheus, my king, Echon's son, is dead!
LEADER
All hail, God of the Voice,
Manifest ever more!
MESSENGER
What say'st thou?—And how strange thy tone, as though
In joy at this my master's overthrow!
LEADER
With fierce joy I rejoice,
Child of a savage shore;
For the chains of my prison are broken, and the dread where I cowered of
yore!
MESSENGER
And deem'st thou Thebes so beggared, so forlorn
Of manhood, as to sit beneath thy scorn?
LEADER
Thebes hath o'er me no sway!
None save Him I obey,
Dionysus, Child of the Highest, Him I obey and adore!
MESSENGER
One can forgive thee!—Yet 'tis no fair thing,
Maids, to rejoice in a man's suffering.
LEADER
Speak of the mountain side!
Tell us the doom he died,
The sinner smitten to death, even where his sin was sore!
MESSENGER
We climbed beyond the utmost habitings
Of Theban shepherds, passed Asopus' springs,
And struck into the land of rock on dim
Kithaeron—Pentheus, and, attending him,
I, and the Stranger who should guide our way,
Then first in a green dell we stopped, and lay,
Lips dumb and feet unmoving, warily
Watching, to be unseen and yet to see.
A narrow glen it was, by crags o'ertowered,
Torn through by tossing waters, and there lowered
A shadow of great pines over it. And there
The Maenad maidens sate; in toil they were,
Busily glad. Some with an ivy chain
Tricked a worn wand to toss its locks again;
Some, wild in joyance, like young steeds set free,
Made answering songs of mystic melody.
But my poor master saw not the great band
Before him. "Stranger," he cried, "where we stand
Mine eyes can reach not these false saints of thine.
Mount we the bank, or some high-shouldered pine,
And I shall see their follies clear!" At that
There came a marvel. For the Stranger straight
Touched a great pine-tree's high and heavenward crown,
And lower, lower, lower, urged it down
To the herbless floor. Round like a bending bow,
Or slow wheel's rim a joiner forces to.
So in those hands that tough and mountain stem
Bowed slow—oh, strength not mortal dwelt in them!—
To the very earth. And there he set the King,
And slowly, lest it cast him in its spring.
Let back the young and straining tree, till high
It towered again amid the towering sky;
And Pentheus in the branches! Well, I ween,
He saw the Maenads then, and well was seen!
For scarce was he aloft, when suddenly
There was no stranger any more with me,
But out of Heaven a Voice—oh, what voice else?—
'Twas He that called! "Behold, O damosels,
I bring ye him who turneth to despite
Both me and ye, and darkeneth my great Light.
Tis yours to avenge!" So spake he, and there came
'Twixt earth and sky a pillar of high flame.
And silence took the air, and no leaf stirred
In all the forest dell. Thou hadst not heard
In that vast silence any wild things's cry.
And up they sprang; but with bewildered eye,
Agaze and listening, scarce yet hearing true.
Then came the Voice again. And when they knew
Their God's clear call, old Cadmus' royal brood,
Up, like wild pigeons startled in a wood,
On flying feet they came, his mother blind,
Agvê, and her sisters, and behind
All the wild crowd, more deeply maddened then,
Through the angry rocks and torrent-tossing glen,
Until they spied him in the dark pine-tree:
Then climbed a crag hard by and furiously
Some sought to stone him, some their wands would fling
Lance-wise aloft, in cruel targeting.
But none could strike. The height o'ertopped their rage,
And there he clung, unscathed, as in a cage
Caught. And of all their strife no end was found.
Then, "Hither," cried Agvê; "stand we round
And grip the stem, my Wild Ones, till we take
This climbing cat-o'-the-mount! He shall not make
A tale of God's high dances!" Out then shone
Arm upon arm, past count, and closed upon
The pine, and gripped; and the ground gave, and down
It reeled. And that high sitter from the crown
Of the green pine-top, with a shrieking cry
Fell, as his mind grew clear, and there hard by
Was horror visible. 'Twas his mother stood
O'er him, first priestess of those rites of blood.
He tore the coif, and from his head away
Flung it, that she might know him, and not slay
To her own misery. He touched the wild
Cheek, crying: "Mother, it is I, thy child,
Thy Pentheus, born thee in Echion's hall!
Have mercy, Mother! Let it not befall
Through sin of mine, that thou shouldst slay thy son!"
But she, with lips a-foam and eyes that run
Like leaping fire, with thoughts that ne'er should be
On earth, possessed by Bacchios utterly,
Stays not nor hears. Round his left arm she put
Both hands, set hard against his side her foot,
Drew... and the shoulder severed!—not by might
Of arm, but easily, as the God made light
Her hand's essay. And at the other side
Was Ino rending; and the torn flesh cried,
And on Autono pressed, and all the crowd
Of ravening arms. 'Yea, all the air was loud
With groans that faded into sobbing breath,
Dim shrieks, and joy, and triumph-cries of death.
And here was borne a severed arm, and there
A hunter's booted foot; white bones lay bare
With rending; and swift hands ensanguinèd
Tossed as in sport the flesh of Pentheus dead.
His body lies afar. The precipice
Hath part, and parts in many an interstice
Lurk of the tangled woodland—no light quest
To find. And, ah, the head! Of all the rest,
His mother hath it, pierced upon a wand,
As one might pierce a lion's, and through the land,
Leaving her sisters in their dancing place,
Bears it on high! Yea, to these walls her face
Was set, exulting in her deed of blood,
Calling upon her Bromios, her God,
Her Comrade, Fellow-Render of the Prey,
Her All-Victorious, to whom this day
She bears in triumph... her own broken heart.
For me, after that sight, I will depart
Before Agave comes.—Oh, to fulfil
God's laws, and have no thought beyond His will,
Is man's best treasure. Aye, and wisdom true,
Methinks, for things of dust to cleave unto!
[ The MESSENGER departs into the Castle.]
CHORUS
Some Maidens
Weave ye the dance, and call
Praise to God!
Bless ye the Tyrant's fall!
Down is trod
Pentheus, the Dragon's Seed!
Wore he the woman's weed?
Clasped he his death indeed,
Clasped the rod?
A Bacchanal
Yea, the wild ivy lapt him, and the doomed
Wild Bull of Sacrifice before him loomed!
Others
Ye who did Bromios scorn,
Praise Him the more,
Bacchanals, Cadmus-born;
Praise with sore
Agony, yea, with tears!
Great are the gifts he bears!
Hands that a mother rears
Red with gore!
LEADER
But stay, Agvê cometh! And her eyes
Make fire around her, reeling! Ho, the prize
Cometh! All hail, O Rout of Dionyse!
[ Enter from the Mountain AGAVE, mad, and to all seeming wondrously
happy, bearing the head of PENTHEUS in her hand. The CHORUS MAIDENS
stand horror-struck at the sight; the LEADER, also horror-struck,
strives to accept it and rejoice in it as the God's deed.]
AGAVE
Ye from the lands of Morn!
LEADER
Call me not; I give praise!
AGAVE
Lo, from the trunk new-shorn
Hither a Mountain Thorn
Bear we! O Asia-born
Bacchanals, bless this chase!
LEADER
I see. Yea; I see.
Have I not welcomed thee?
AGAVE ( very calmly and peacefully )
He was young in the wildwood
Without nets I caught him!
Nay; look without fear on
The Lion; I have ta'en him!
LEADER
Where in the wildwood?
Whence have ye brought him?
AGAVE
Kithaeron....
LEADER
Kithaeron?
AGAVE
The Mountain hath slain him!
LEADER
Who first came nigh him?
AGAVE
I, I, 'tis confessèd!
And they named me there by him
Agave the Blessèd!
LEADER
Who was next in the band on him?
AGAVE
The daughters....
LEADER
The daughters?
AGAVE
Of Cadmus laid hand on him.
But the swift hand that slaughters
Is mine; mine is the praise!
Bless ye this day of days!
[ The LEADER tries to speak, but is not able;
AGAVE begins gently stroking the head.]
AGAVE
Gather ye now to the feast!
LEADER
Feast!—O miserable!
AGAVE
See, it falls to his breast,
Curling and gently tressed,
The hair of the Wild Bull's crest—
The young steer of the fell!
LEADER
Most like a beast of the wild
That head, those locks defiled.
AGAVE ( lifting up the head, more excitedly )
He wakened his Mad Ones,
A Chase-God, a wise God!
He sprang them to seize this!
He preys where his band preys.
LEADER ( brooding, with horror )
In the trail of thy Mad Ones
Thou tearest thy prize, God!
AGAVE
Dost praise it?
LEADER
I praise this?
AGAVE
Ah, soon shall the land praise!
LEADER
And Pentheus, O Mother,
Thy child?
AGAVE
He shall cry on
My name as none other,
Bless the spoils of the Lion!
LEADER
Aye, strange is thy treasure!
AGAVE
And strange was the taking!
LEADER
Thou art glad?
AGAVE
Beyond measure;
Yea, glad in the breaking
Of dawn upon all this land,
By the prize, the prize of my hand!
LEADER
Show them to all the land, unhappy one,
The trophy of this deed that thou hast done!
AGAVE
Ho, all ye men that round the citadel
And shining towers of ancient Thêbê dwell,
Come! Look upon this prize, this lion's spoil,
That we have taken—yea, with our own toil,
We, Cadmus' daughters! Not with leathern-set
Thessalian javelins, not with hunter's net,
Only white arms and swift hands' bladed fall
Why make ye much ado, and boast withal
Your armourers' engines? See, these palms were bare
That caught the angry beast, and held, and tare
The limbs of him!... Father!... Go, bring to me
My father!... Aye, and Pentheus, where is he,
My son? He shall set up a ladder-stair
Against this house, and in the triglyphs there
Nail me this lion's head, that gloriously
I bring ye, having slain him—I, even I!
[ She goes through the crowd towards the Castle, showing the head and
looking for a place to hang it. Enter from the Mountain CADMUS, with
attendants, bearing the body of PENTHEUS on a bier.]
CADMUS
On, with your awful burden. Follow me,
Thralls, to his house, whose body grievously
With many a weary search at last in dim
Kithaeron's glens I found, torn limb from limb,
And through the intervening forest weed
Scattered.—Men told me of my daughters' deed,
When I was just returned within these walls,
With grey Teiresias, from the Bacchanals.
And back I hied me to the hills again
To seek my murdered son. There saw I plain
Actaeon's mother, ranging where he died,
Autono; and Ino by her side,
Wandering ghastly in the pine-copses.
Agvê was not there. The rumour is
She cometh fleet-foot hither.—Ah! 'Tis true;
A sight I scarce can bend mine eyes unto.
AGAVE ( turning from the Palace and seeing him )
My father, a great boast is thine this hour.
Thou hast begotten daughters, high in power
And valiant above all mankind—yea, all
Valiant, though none like me! I have let fall
The shuttle by the loom, and raised my hand
For higher things, to slay from out thy land
Wild beasts! See, in mine arms I bear the prize,
That nailed above these portals it may rise
To show what things thy daughters did! Do thou
Take it, and call a feast. Proud art thou now
And highly favoured in our valiancy!
CADMUS
O depth of grief, how can I fathom thee
Or look upon thee!—Poor, poor bloodstained hand!
Poor sisters!—A fair sacrifice to stand
Before God's altars, daughter; yea, and call
Me and my citizens to feast withal!
Nay, let me weep—for thine affliction most,
Then for mine own. All, all of us are lost,
Not wrongfully, yet is it hard, from one
Who might have loved—our Bromios, our own!
AGAVE
How crabbèd and how scowling in the eyes
Is man's old age!—Would that my son likewise
Were happy of his hunting, in my way
When with his warrior bands he will essay
The wild beast!—Nay, his valiance is to fight
With God's will! Father, thou shouldst set him right.
Will no one bring him thither, that mine eyes
May look on his, and show him this my prize!
CADMUS
Alas, if ever ye can know again
The truth of what ye did, what pain of pain
That truth shall bring! Or were it best to wait
Darkened for evermore, and deem your state
Not misery, though ye know no happiness?
AGAVE
What seest thou here to chide, or not to bless?
CADMUS ( after hesitation, resolving himself )
Raise me thine eyes to yon blue dome of air!
AGAVE
'Tis done. What dost thou bid me seek for there?
CADMUS
Is it the same, or changèd in thy sight?
AGAVE
More shining than before, more heavenly bright!
CADMUS
And that wild tremour, is it with thee still?
AGAVE ( troubled )
I know not what thou sayest; but my will
Clears, and some change cometh, I know not how.
CADMUS
Canst hearken then, being changed, and answer, now!
AGAVE
I have forgotten something; else I could.
CADMUS
What husband led thee of old from mine abode?
AGAVE
Echon, whom men named the Child of Earth.
CADMUS
And what child in Echon's house had birth?
AGAVE
Pentheus, of my love and his father's bred.
CADMUS
Thou bearest in thine arms an head—what head?
AGAVE ( beginning to tremble, and not looking at what she carries )
A lion's—so they all said in the chase.
CADMUS
Turn to it now—'tis no long toil—and gaze.
AGAVE
Ah! But what is it? What am I carrying here?
CADMUS
Look once upon it full, till all be clear!
AGAVE
I see... most deadly pain! Oh, woe is me!
CADMUS
Wears it the likeness of a lion to thee?
AGAVE
No; 'tis the head—O God!—of Pentheus, this!
CADMUS
Blood-drenched ere thou wouldst know him! Aye, 'tis his.
AGAVE
Who slew him?—How came I to hold this thing?
CADMUS
O cruel Truth, is this thine home-coming?
AGAVE
Answer! My heart is hanging on thy breath!
CADMUS
'Twas thou.—Thou and thy sisters wrought his death.
AGAVE
In what place was it? His own house, or where?
CADMUS
Where the dogs tore Actaeon, even there.
AGAVE
Why went he to Kithaeron? What sought he?
CADMUS
To mock the God and thine own ecstasy.
AGAVE
But how should we be on the hills this day?
CADMUS
Being mad! A spirit drove all the land that way.
AGAVE
'Tis Dionyse hath done it! Now I see.
CADMUS ( earnestly )
Ye wronged Him! Ye denied his deity!
AGAVE ( turning from him )
Show me the body of the son I love!
CADMUS ( leading her to the bier )
'Tis here, my child. Hard was the quest thereof.
AGAVE
Laid in due state?
[ As there is no answer, she lifts the veil of the bier, and sees. ]
Oh, if I wrought a sin,
'Twas mine! What portion had my child therein!
CADMUS
He made him like to you, adoring not
The God; who therefore to one bane hath brought
You and this body, wrecking all our line,
And me. Aye, no man-child was ever mine;
And now this first-fruit of the flesh of thee,
Sad woman, foully here and frightfully
Lies murdered! Whom the house looked up unto,
[ Kneeling by the body. ]
O Child, my daughter's child! who heldest true
My castle walls; and to the folk a name
Of fear thou wast; and no man sought to shame
My grey beard, when they knew that thou wast there,
Else had they swift reward!—And now I fare
Forth in dishonour, outcast, I, the great
Cadmus, who sowed the seed-rows of this state
Of Thebes, and reaped the harvest wonderful.
O my belovèd, though thy heart is dull
In death, O still belovèd, and alway
Beloved! Never more, then, shalt thou lay
Thine hand to this white beard, and speak to me
Thy "Mother's Father"; ask "Who wrongeth thee?
Who stints thine honour, or with malice stirs
Thine heart? Speak, and I smite thine injurers!"
But now—woe, woe, to me and thee also,
Woe to thy mother and her sisters, woe
Alway! Oh, whoso walketh not in dread
Of Gods, let him but look on this man dead!
LEADER
Lo, I weep with thee. 'Twas but due reward
God sent on Pentheus; but for thee... 'Tis hard.
AGAVE
My father, thou canst see the change in me,
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