And tell of Time, what gifts for thee he bears,
What griefs and wonders in the winding years.
For thou must change and be a Serpent Thing
Strange, and beside thee she whom thou didst bring
Of old to be thy bride from Heaven afar,
Harmonia, daughter of the Lord of War.
Yea, and a chariot of kine—so spake
The word of Zeus—thee and thy Queen shall take
Through many lands, Lord of a wild array
Of orient spears. And many towns shall they
Destroy beneath thee, that vast horde, until
They touch Apollo's dwelling, and fulfil
Their doom, back driven on stormy ways and steep.
Thee only and thy spouse shall Ares keep,
And save alive to the Islands of the Blest.
Thus speaketh Dionysus, Son confessed
Of no man but of Zeus!—Ah, had ye seen
Truth in the hour ye would not, all had been
Well with ye, and the Child of God your friend!
AGAVE
Dionysus, we beseech thee! We have sinned!
DIONYSUS
Too late! When there was time, ye knew me not!
AGAVE
We have confessed. Yet is thine hand too hot.
DIONYSUS
Ye mocked me, being God; this your wage.
AGAVE
Should God be like a proud man in his rage?
DIONYSUS
'Tis as my sire, Zeus, willed it long ago.
AGAVE ( turning from him almost with disdain )
Old man, the word is spoken; we must go.
DIONYSUS
And seeing ye must, what is it that ye wait?
CADMUS
Child, we are come into a deadly strait,
All; thou, poor sufferer, and thy sisters twain,
And my sad self. Far off to barbarous men,
A grey-haired wanderer, I must take my r
And then the oracle, the doom of God,
That I must lead a raging horde far-flown
To prey on Hellas; lead my spouse, mine own
Harmonia. Ares' child, discorporate
And haunting forms, dragon and dragon-mate,
Against the tombs and altar-stones of Greece,
Lance upon lance behind us; and not cease
From toils, like other men, nor dream, nor past
The foam of Acheron find my peace at last.
AGAVE
Father! And I must wander far from thee!
CADMUS
O Child, why wilt thou reach thine arms to me,
As yearns the milk-white swan, when old swans die?
AGAVE
Where shall I turn me else? No home have I.
CADMUS
I know not; I can help thee not.
AGAVE
Farewell, O home, O ancient tower!
Lo, I am outcast from my bower,
And leave ye for a worser lot.
CADMUS
Go forth, go forth to misery,
The way Actaeon's father went!
AGAVE
Father, for thee my tears are spent.
CADMUS
Nay, Child, 'tis I must weep for thee;
For thee and for thy sisters twain!
AGAVE
On all this house, in bitter wise,
Our Lord and Master, Dionyse,
Hath poured the utter dregs of pain!
DIONYSUS
In bitter wise, for bitter was the shame
Ye did me, when Thebes honoured not my name.
AGAVE
Then lead me where my sisters be;
Together let our tears be shed,
Our ways be wandered; where no red
Kithaeron waits to gaze on me;
Nor I gaze back; no thyrsus stem,
Nor song, nor memory in the air.
Oh, other Bacchanals be there,
Not I, not I, to dream of them!
[AGAVE with her group of attendants goes out on the side away from
the Mountain. DIONYSUS rises upon the Cloud and disappears. ]
CHORUS
There may be many shapes of mystery,
And many things God makes to be,
Past hope or fear.
And the end men looked for cometh not,
And a path is there where no man thought.
So hath it fallen here. [ Exeunt.]
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