Some Maidens


All hail, O Thebes, thou nurse of Semelê!      
  With Semelê’s wild ivy crown thy towers;      
Oh, burst in bloom of wreathing bryony,      
      Berries and leaves and flowers;           132   
    Uplift the dark divine wand,      
    The oak-wand and the pine-wand,      
And don thy fawn-skin, fringed in purity      
      With fleecy white, like ours.           136   
    
Oh, cleanse thee in the wands’ waving pride!      
  Yea, all men shall dance with us and pray,      
When Bromios his companies shall guide      
  Hillward, ever hillward, where they stay,           140   
    The flock of the Believing,      
    The maids from loom and weaving      
  By the magic of his breath borne away.      
    
Others


    Hail thou, O Nurse of Zeus, O Caverned Haunt           144   
      Where fierce arms clanged to guard God’s cradle rare,      
    For thee of old crested Corybant      
      First woke in Cretan air      
    The wild orb of our orgies,           148   
    The Timbrel; and thy gorges      
Rang with this Strain; and blended Phrygian chant      
      And sweet keen pipes were there.      
    
  But the Timbrel, the Timbrel was another’s,           152   
    And away to Mother Rhea it must wend;      
  And to our holy singing from the Mother’s      
    The mad Satyrs carried it, to blend      
      In the dancing and the cheer           156   
      Of our third and perfect Year;      
And it serves Dionysus in the end!      
    
A Maiden


O glad, glad on the mountains      
  To swoon in the race outworn,           160   
    When the holy fawn-skin clings,      
      And all else sweeps away,      
To the joy of the red quick fountains,      
  The blood of the hill-goat torn,           164   
    The glory of wild-beast ravenings,      
      Where the hill-tops catch the day;      
To the Phrygian, Lydian, mountains!      
    ’Tis Bromios leads the way.           168   
    
Another Maiden


Then streams the earth with milk, yea, streams      
With wine and nectar of the bee,      
And through the air dim perfume steams      
Of Syrian frankincense; and He,           172   
Our leader, from his thyrsus spray      
A torchlight tosses high and higher,      
A torchlight like a beacon-fire,      
To waken all that faint and stray;           176   
And sets them leaping as he sings,      
His tresses rippling to the sky,      
And deep beneath the Maenad cry      
His proud voice rings:           180   
      “Come, O ye Bacchæ, come!”      
    
All the Maidens


Hither, O fragrant of Tmolus the Golden,      
  Come with the voice of timbrel and drum;      
Let the cry of your joyance uplift and embolden           184   
  The God of the joy-cry; O Bacchanals, come!      
With pealing of pipes and with Phrygian clamour,      
  On, where the vision of holiness thrills,      
And the music climbs and the maddening glamour,           188   
  With the wild White Maids, to the hills, to the hills!      
Oh, then, like a colt as he runs by a river,      
  A colt by his dam, when the heart of him sings,      
With the keen limbs drawn and the fleet foot a-quiver,           192   
          Away the Bacchanal springs!      
    
Enter TEIRESIAS. He is an old man and blind, leaning upon a staff and moving with slow stateliness, though wearing the Ivy and the Bacchic fawn-skin.


TEIRESIAS


Ho, there, who keeps the gate?—Go, summon me      
Cadmus, Agênor’s son, who crossed the sea           196   
From Sidon and upreared this Theban hold.      
Go, whosoe’er thou art. See he be told      
Teiresias seeketh him. Himself will gauge      
Mine errand, and the compact, age with age,           200   
I vowed with him, grey hair with snow-white hair,      
To deck the new God’s thyrsus, and to wear      
His fawn-skin, and with ivy crown our brows.      
    
Enter CADMUS from the Castle. He is even older than TEIRESIAS, and wears the same attire.


CADMUS


True friend! I knew that voice of thine, that flows           204   
Like mellow wisdom from a fountain wise.      
And, lo, I come prepared, in all the guise      
And harness of this God. Are we not told      
His is the soul of that dead life of old           208   
That sprang from mine own daughter? Surely then      
Must thou and I with all the strength of men      
Exalt him.      
            Where then shall I stand, where tread           212   
The dance and toss this bowed and hoary head?      
O friend, in thee is wisdom; guide my grey      
And eld-worn steps, eld-worn Teiresias.—Nay;      
I am not weak.  [At the first movement of worship his manner begins to change; a mysterious strength and exaltation enter into him.           216   
                Surely this arm could smite      
The wild earth with its thyrsus, day and night,      
And faint not! Sweetly and forgetfully      
The dim years fall from off me!           220   
    
TEIRESIAS


                                As with thee,      
With me ’tis likewise. Light am I and young,      
And will essay the dancing and the song.      
    
CADMUS


Quick, then, our chariots to the mountain road.           224   
    
TEIRESIAS


Nay; to take steeds were to mistrust the God.      
    
CADMUS


So be it. Mine old arms shall guide thee there.      
    
TEIRESIAS


The God himself shall guide! Have thou no care.      
    
CADMUS


And in all Thebes shall no man dance but we?           228   
    
TEIRESIAS


Aye, Thebes is blinded. Thou and I can see.      
    
CADMUS


’Tis weary waiting; hold my hand, friend; so.      
    
TEIRESIAS


Lo, there is mine. So linked let us go.      
    
CADMUS


Shall things of dust the Gods’ dark ways despise?           232   
    
TEIRESIAS


Or prove our wit on Heaven’s high mysteries?      
Not thou and I! That heritage sublime      
Our sires have left us, wisdom old as time,      
No word of man, how deep soe’er his thought           236   
And won of subtlest toil, may bring to naught.      
  Aye, men will rail that I forgot my years,      
To dance and wreath with ivy these white hairs;      
What recks it? Seeing the God no line bath told           240   
To mark what man shall dance, or young or old;      
But craves his honours from mortality      
All, no man marked apart; and great shall be!      
    
CADMUS (after looking away toward the Mountain).


Teiresias, since this light thou canst not read,           244   
I must be seer for thee. Here comes in speed      
Pentheus, Echîon’s son, whom I have raised      
To rule my people in my stead.—Amazed      
He seems. Stand close, and mark what we shall hear.  [The two stand back, partially concealed, while there enters in hot haste PENTHEUS, followed by a bodyguard. He is speaking to the SOLDIER in command.

PENTHEUS


Scarce had I crossed our borders, when mine ear      
Was caught by this strange rumour, that our own      
Wives, our own sisters, from their hearths are flown      
To wild and secret rites; and cluster there           252   
High on the shadowy hills, with dance and prayer      
To adore this new-made God, this Dionyse,      
Whate’er he be!—And in their companies      
Deep wine-jars stand, and ever and anon           256   
Away into the loneliness now one      
Steals forth, and now a second, maid or dame,      
Where love lies waiting, not of God! The flame,      
They say, of Bacchios wraps them. Bacchios! Nay,           260   
’Tis more to Aphrodite that they pray.      
  Howbeit, all that I have found, my men      
Hold bound and shackled in our dungeon den;      
The rest, I will go hunt them! Aye, and snare           264   
My birds with nets of iron, to quell their prayer      
And mountain song and rites of rascaldom!      
  They tell me, too, there is a stranger come,      
A man of charm and spell, from Lydian seas,           268   
A head all gold and cloudy fragrancies,      
A wine-red cheek, and eyes that hold the light      
Of the very Cyprian. Day and livelong night      
He haunts amid the damsels, o’er each lip           272   
Dangling his cup of joyance!—Let me grip      
Him once, but once, within these walls, right swift      
That wand shall cease its music, and that drift      
Of tossing curls lie still—when my rude sword           276   
Falls between neck and trunk! ’Tis all his word,      
This tale of Dionysus; how that same      
Babe that was blasted by the lightning flame      
With his dead mother, for that mother’s lie,           280   
Was re-conceived, born perfect from the thigh      
Of Zeus, and now is God! What call ye these?      
Dreams? Gibes of the unknown wanderer? Blasphemies      
That crave the very gibbet?           284   
                            Stay! God wot,      
Here is another marvel! See I not      
In motley fawn-skins robed the vision-seer      
Teiresias? And my mother’s father here—           288   
O depth of scorn!—adoring with the wand      
Of Bacchios?—Father!—Nay, mine eyes are fond;      
It is not your white heads so fancy-flown!      
It cannot be! Cast off that ivy crown,           292   
O mine own mother’s sire! Set free that hand      
That cowers about its staff.      
                              ’Tis thou bast planned      
This work, Teiresias! ’Tis thou must set           296   
Another altar and another yet      
Amongst us, watch new birds, and win more hire      
Of gold, interpreting new signs of fire!      
But for thy silver hairs, I tell thee true,           300   
Thou now wert sitting chained amid thy crew      
Of raving damsels, for this evil dream      
Thou hast brought us, of new Gods! When once the gleam      
Of grapes hath lit a Woman’s Festival,           304   
In all their prayers is no more health at all!      
    
LEADER OF THE CHORUS (the words are not heard by PENTHEUS)


Injurious King, hast thou no fear of God,      
Nor Cadmus, sower of the Giants’ Sod,      
Life-spring to great Echîdon and to thee?           308   
    
TEIRESIAS


Good words, my son, come easily, when he      
That speaks is wise, and speaks but for the right.      
Else come they never! Swift are thine, and bright      
As though with thought, yet have no thought at all.           312   
  Lo, this new God, whom thou dost flout withal,      
I cannot speak the greatness wherewith He      
In Hellas shall be great! Two spirits there be,      
Young Prince, that in man’s world are first of worth.           316   
Dêmêtêr one is named; she is the Earth—      
Call her which name thou will!—who feeds man’s frame      
With sustenance of things dry. And that which came      
Her work to perfect, second, is the Power           320   
From Semelê born. He found the liquid shower      
Hid in the grape. He rests man’s spirit dim      
From grieving, when the vine exalteth him.      
He giveth sleep to sink the fretful day           324   
In cool forgetting. Is there any way      
With man’s sore heart, save only to forget?      
  Yea, being God, the blood of him is set      
Before the Gods in sacrifice, that we           328   
For his sake may be blest.—And so, to thee,      
That fable shames him, how this God was knit      
Into God’s flesh? Nay, learn the truth of it,      
Cleared from the false.—When from that deadly light           332   
Zeus saved the babe, and up to Olympus’ height      
Raised him, and Hera’s wrath would cast him thence,      
Then Zeus devised him a divine defence.      
A fragment of the world-encircling fire           336   
He rent apart, and wrought to his desire      
Of shape and hue, in the image of the child,      
And gave to Hera’s rage. And so, beguiled      
By change and passing time, this tale was born,           340   
How the babe-god was hidden in the torn      
Flesh of his sire. He hath no shame thereby.      
  A prophet is he likewise. Prophecy      
Cleaves to all frenzy, but beyond all else           344   
To frenzy of prayer. Then in us verily dwells      
The God himself, and speaks the thing to be.      
Yea, and of Ares’ realm a part hath he.      
When mortal armies, mailèd and arrayed,           348   
Have in strange fear, or ever blade met blade,      
Fled maddened, ’tis this God hath palsied them.      
Aye, over Delphi’s rock-built diadem      
Thou yet shalt see him leaping with his train           352   
Of fire across the twin-peaked mountain-plain,      
Flaming the darkness with his mystic wand,      
And great in Hellas.—List and understand,      
King Pentheus! Dream not thou that force is power;           356   
Nor, if thou hast a thought, and that thought sour      
And sick, oh, dream not thought is wisdom!—Up,      
Receive this God to Thebes; pour forth the cup      
Of sacrifice, and pray, and wreathe thy brow.           360   
  Thou fearest for the damsels? Think thee now;      
How toucheth this the part of Dionyse      
To hold maids pure perforce? In them it lies,      
And their own hearts; and in the wildest rite           364   
Cometh no stain to her whose heart is white.      
  Nay, mark me! Thou hast thy joy, when the Gate      
Stands thronged, and Pentheus’ name is lifted great      
And high by Thebes in clamour; shall not He           368   
Rejoice in his due meed of majesty?      
  Howbeit, this Cadmus whom thou scorn’st and I      
Will wear His crown, and tread His dances! Aye,      
Our hairs are white, yet shall that dance be trod!           372   
I will not lift mine arm to war with God      
For thee nor all thy words. Madness most fell      
Is on thee, madness wrought by some dread spell,      
But not by spell nor leechcraft to be cured!           376   
    
CHORUS


Grey prophet, worthy of Phoebus is thy word,      
And wise in honouring Bromios, our great God.      
    
CADMUS


My son, right well Teiresias points thy road.      
Oh, make thine habitation here with us,           380   
Not lonely, against men’s uses. Hazardous      
Is this quick bird-like beating of thy thought      
Where no thought dwells.—Grant that this God be naught,      
Yet let that Naught be Somewhat in thy mouth;           384   
Lie boldly, and say He is! So north and south      
Shall marvel, how there sprang a thing divine      
From Semelê’s flesh, and honour all our line.  [Drawing nearer to PENTHEUS.      
  Is there not blood before thine eyes even now?           388   
Our lost Actaeon’s blood, whom long ago      
His own red hounds through yonder forest dim      
Tore unto death, because he vaunted him      
Against most holy Artemis? Oh, beware,           392   
And let me wreathe thy temples. Make thy prayer      
With us, and walk thee humbly in God’s sight.  [He makes as if to set the wreath on PENTHEUS’ head.      
    
PENTHEUS


Down with that hand! Aroint thee to thy rite,      
Nor smear on me thy foul contagion!  [Turning upon TEIRESIAS.           396   
                                    This      
Thy folly’s head and prompter shall not miss      
The justice that he needs!—Go, half my guard,      
 

Forth to the rock-seat where he dwells in ward           400   
O’er birds and wonders; rend the stone with crow      
And trident; make one wreck of high and low,      
And toss his hands to all the winds of air!      
Ha, have I found the way to sting thee, there?           404   
The rest, forth through the town! And seek amain      
This girl-faced stranger, that hath wrought such bane      
To all Thebes, preying on our maids and wives.      
Seek till ye find; and lead him here in gyves,           408   
Till he be judged and stoned and weep in blood      
The day he troubled Pentheus with his God!  [The guards set forth in two bodies; PENTHEUS goes into the Castle.      
    
TEIRESIAS


Hard heart, how little dost thou know what seed      
Thou sowest! Blind before, and now indeed           412   
Most mad!—Come, Cadmus, let us go our way,      
And pray for this our persecutor, pray      
For this poor city, that the righteous God      
Move not in anger.—Take thine ivy rod           416   
And help my steps, as I help thine. ’Twere ill,      
If two old men should fall by the roadway. Still,      
Come what come may, our service shall be done      
To Bacchios, the All-Father’s mystic son.           420   
  O Pentheus, named of sorrow! Shall he claim      
From all thy house fulfilment of his name,      
Old Cadmus?—Nay, I speak not from mine art,      
But as I see—blind words and a blind heart!  [The two Old Men go off towards the Mountain.           424   
    
CHORUS

Some Maidens


Thou Immaculate on high;      
Thou Recording Purity;      
Thou that stoopest, Golden Wing,      
Earthward, manward, pitying,           428   
Hearest thou this angry King?      
Hearest thou the rage and scorn      
  ’Gainst the Lord of Many Voices,      
Him of mortal mother born,           432   
Him in whom man’s heart rejoices,      
Girt with garlands and with glee,      
First in Heaven’s sovranty?      
  For his kingdom, it is there,           436   
  In the dancing and the prayer,      
In the music and the laughter,      
  In the vanishing of care,      
And of all before and after;           440   
In the Gods’ high banquet, when      
  Gleams the grape-flood, flashed to heaven;      
Yea, and in the feasts of men      
Comes his crownèd slumber; then           444   
  Pain is dead and hate forgiven!      
    
Others


Loose thy lips from out the rein;      
Lift thy wisdom to disdain;      
Whatso law thou canst not see,           448   
Scorning; so the end shall be      
Uttermost calamity!      
’Tis the life of quiet breath,      
  ’Tis the simple and the true,           452   
Storm nor earthquake shattereth,      
  Nor shall aught the house undo      
Where they dwell. For, far away,      
Hidden from the eyes of day,           456   
  Watchers are there in the skies,      
  That can see man’s life, and prize      
Deeds well done by things of clay.      
  But the world’s Wise are not wise,           460   
Claiming more than mortal may.      
Life is such a little thing;      
  Lo, their present is departed,      
And the dreams to which they cling           464   
Come not. Mad imagining      
  Theirs, I ween, and empty-hearted!      
    
Divers Maidens


    Where is the Home for me?      
    O Cyprus, set in the sea,           468   
Aphrodite’s home In the soft sea-foam,      
    Would I could wend to thee;      
Where the wings of the Loves are furled,      
And faint the heart of the world.           472   
    
    Aye, unto Paphos’ isle,      
    Where the rainless meadows smile      
With riches rolled From the hundred-fold      
    Mouths of the far-off Nile,           476   
Streaming beneath the waves      
To the roots of the seaward caves.      
    
    But a better land is there      
    Where Olympus cleaves the air,           480   
The high still dell Where the Muses dwell,      
    Fairest of all things fair!      
O there is Grace, and there is the Heart’s Desire,      
And peace to adore thee, thou Spirit of Guiding Fire!           484   
——————      
A God of Heaven is he,      
And horn in majesty;      
Yet hath he mirth In the joy of the Earth,           488   
    And he loveth constantly      
Her who brings increase,      
The Feeder of Children, Peace.      
    No grudge hath he of the great;           492   
    No scorn of the mean estate;      
But to all that liveth His wine he giveth,      
    Griefless, immaculate;      
Only on them that spurn           496   
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,           500   
    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,           504   
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.           508   
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           512   
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           516   
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,           520   
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,           524   
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           528   
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.           532   
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.           536   
    
DIONYSUS


Thence am I; Lydia was my fatherland.      
    
PENTHEUS


And whence these revelations, that thy band      
Spreadeth in Hellas?      
    
DIONYSUS


                      Their intent and use           540   
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           544   
Here in thy Thebes on Semele.      
    
PENTHEUS


                              What way      
Descended he upon thee? In full day      
Or vision of night?           548   
    
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           552   
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           556   
To seek them out!      
    
DIONYSUS


                  His mysteries abhor      
The touch of sin-lovers.      
    
PENTHEUS


                          And so thine eyes           560   
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,           564   
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           568   
Established?      
    
DIONYSUS


              Nay; all Barbary hath trod      
His dance ere this.      
    
PENTHEUS


                    A low blind folk, I ween,           572   
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?           576   
    
DIONYSUS


Most oft by night; ’tis a majestic thing,      
The darkness.      
    
PENTHEUS


              Ha! with women worshipping?      
’Tis craft and rottenness!           580   
    
DIONYSUS


                            By day no less,      
Whoso will seek may find unholiness.      
    
PENTHEUS


Enough! Thy doom is fixed, for false pretence      
Corrupting Thebes.           584   
    
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!           588   
    
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.           592   
    
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.           596   
    
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!           600   
    
DIONYSUS


                              Even now he stands      
Close here, and sees all that I suffer.

PENTHEUS


                                        What?      
Where is he? For mine eyes discern him not.           604   
    
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.           608   
    
DIONYSUS


                            I charge ye, bind      
Me not! I having vision and ye blind!      
    
PENTHEUS


And I, with better right, say hind the more!  [The soldiers obey.      
    
DIONYSUS


Thou knowest not what end thou seekest, nor           612   
What deed thou doest, nor what man thou art!      
    
PENTHEUS (mocking)


Agàvê’s son, and on the father’s part      
Echîon’s, hight Pentheus!      
    
DIONYSUS


So let it be,           616   
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           620   
Of womankind that clusters thee about,      
Thy ministers of worship, are ray slaves!      
It may he I will sell them o’er the waves,      
Hither and thither; else they shall be set           624   
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           628   
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


AcheIoüs’ roaming daughter,           632   
Holy Dircê, virgin water,      
Bathed he not of old in thee,      
The Babe of God, the Mystery?      
When from out the fire immortal           636   
  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           640   
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.”           644   
    
All


    Still my prayer toward thee quivers,      
      Dircê, still to thee I hie me;      
    Why, O Blessèd among Rivers,      
      Wilt thou fly me and deny me?           648   
        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!           652   
    
Other Maidens


    Dark and of the dark impassioned      
    Is this Pentheus’ blood; yea, fashioned      
    Of the Dragon, and his birth      
    From Echîon, child of Earth.           656   
    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?           660   
    He will hind me for his prize,      
    Me, the Bride of Dionyse;      
      And my priest, my friend, is taken      
    Even now, and buried lies;           664   
      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,           668   
      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!           672   
    
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,           676   
    By the high Corycian Cave,      
Or where stern Olympus stands;      
In the elm-woods and the oaken,      
    There where Orpheus harped of old,           680   
  And the trees awoke and knew him,      
  And the wild things gathered to him,      
As he sang amid the broken      
    Glens his music manifold?           684   
Dionysus loveth thee;      
Blessed Land of Piêrie,      
  He will come to thee with dancing,      
Come with joy and mystery;           688   
With the Maenads at his hest      
Winding, winding to the West;      
  Cross the flood of swiftly glancing      
Axios in majesty;           692   
Cross the Lydias, the giver      
  Of good gifts and waving green;      
Cross that Father-Stream of story,      
Through a land of steeds and glory           696   
Rolling, bravest, fairest River      
  E’er of mortals seen!      
    
A VOICE WITHIN


                        Io! Io!      
Awake, ye damsels; hear my cry,           700   
    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,           704   
    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,           708   
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!           712   
    
CHORUS


                        We adore Him all!      
    
THE VOICE


Unveil the Lighning’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           716   
  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?           720   
    
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 bath come, and all is overthrown!  [The Maidens cast themselves upon the ground, their eyes earthward. DIONYSUS, alone and unbound, enters from the Castle.           724   
    
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.           728   
    
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?           732   
    
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!           736   
    
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           740   
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           744   
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—           748   
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 ever more it lies,           752   
That the day of this my bondage may he 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           756   
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 lie come in fury hot.           760   
For still are the ways of Wisdom, and her temper trembleth not!      
    
Enter PENTHEUS in fury


PENTHEUS


It is too much! This Eastern knave bath slipped      
His prison, whom I held but now, hard gripped      
In bondage.—Ha! ’Tis he!—What, sirrah, how           764   
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!           768   
    
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.           772   
    
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           776   
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!—           780   
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,           784   
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,           788   
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           792   
My whole tale forth, or veil the stranger part?      
Yea, Lord, I fear the swiftness of thy heart,      
Thine edged wrath and more than royal soul.      
    
PENTHEUS


Thy tale shall nothing scathe thee.—Tell the whole.           796   
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           800   
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      
Autonoë led, one Ino, one thine own           804   
Mother, Agâvê. 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           808   
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.           812   
Then rose the Queen Agâvê 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,           816   
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           820   
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,           824   
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           828   
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           832   
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           836   
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,           840   
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;           844   
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,           848   
Masters, we stay the mother of the King,      
Agâvê, from her lawless worshipping,      
And win us royal thanks?”—And this seemed good      
To all; and through the branching underwood           852   
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,           856   
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.           860   
  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,           864   
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           868   
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           872   
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           876   
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.           880   
  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.           884   
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,           888   
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;           892   
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 Bacchæ. Then, dread Lord,           896   
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           900   
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           904   
The stain of battle. And those girdling snakes      
Hissed out to lap the waterdrops from cheeks      
And hair and breast.      
                      Therefore I counsel thee,           908   
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           912   
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           916   
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           920   
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           924   
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 boldest light           928   
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           932   
His Chosen from the hills of their delight.      
   
PENTHEUS


Peace, thou! And if for once thou hast slipped thy chain,      
Give thanks!—Or shall I knot thine arms again?      
   
DIONYSUS


Better to yield him prayer and sacrifice           936   
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           940   
His name through all Kithaeron!      
    
DIONYSUS


                                Ye shall fly,      
All, and abase your shields of bronzen rim      
Before their wands.           944   
    
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           948   
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           952   
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.           956   
    
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!           960   
    
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.           964   
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           968   
The gold of Thebes!      
    
DIONYSUS


                    So much? Thou art quick to fall      
To such great longing.      
    
PENTHEUS


(somewhat bewildered at what he has said)           972   
                        Aye; ’twould grieve me much      
To see them flown with wine.      
    
DIONYSUS


                              Yet cravest thou such      
A sight as would much grieve thee?           976   
    
PENTHEUS


                                    Yes; I fain      
Would watch, ambushed among the pines.      
    
DIONYSUS


                                        ’Twere vain      
To hide. They soon will track thee out.           980   
    
PENTHEUS


                                        Well said      
’Twere best done openly.      
    
DIONYSUS


                          Wilt thou be led      
By me, and try the venture?           984   
    
PENTHEUS


                            Aye, indeed!      
Lead on. Why should we tarry?      
    
DIONYSUS


                              First we need      
A rich and trailing robe of fine-linen           988   
To gird thee.      
    
PENTHEUS


              Nay; am I a woman, then,      
And no man more,      
    
DIONYSUS


                  Wouldst have them slay thee dead?           992   
No man may see their mysteries.      
    
PENTHEUS


                                Well said!—      
I marked thy subtle temper long ere now.      
    
DIONYSUS


’Tis Dionyse that prompteth me.           996   
    
PENTHEUS


                                And how      
Mean’st thou the further plan?      
    
DIONYSUS


                                First take thy way      
Within. I will array thee.           1000   
    
PENTHEUS


                            What array!      
The woman’s? Nay, I will not.      
    
DIONYSUS


                              Doth it change      
So soon, all thy desire to see this strange           1004   
Adoring?      
    
PENTHEUS


          Wait! What garb wilt thou bestow      
About me?      
    
DIONYSUS


          First a long tress dangling low           1008   
Beneath thy shoulders.      
    
PENTHEUS


                        Aye, and next?      
    
DIONYSUS


                                        The said      
Robe, falling to thy feet; and on thine head           1012   
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.           1016   
    
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,           1020   
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           1024   
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.           1028   
    
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           1032   
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 Bacchæ now, and sees and dies,           1036   
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           1040   
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           1044   
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 Penthet’s, that shall deck him to the dark,           1048   
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 the Castle.      
    
CHORUS


Some Maidens           1052   
    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           1056   
    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;           1060   
    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;           1064   
    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,           1068   
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?           1072   
  To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;      
  To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;      
And shall not Loveliness he loved for ever?      
    
Others


    O Strength of God, slow art thou and still,           1076   
        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           1080   
        And greater ever,      
    Things which are not of God. In wide      
      And devious coverts, hunter-wise,      
    He coucheth Time’s unhasting stride,           1084   
      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.           1088   
    And is thy Fate so much to give,      
    Is it so bard a thing to see,      
    That the Spirit of God, whate’er it be,      
The Law that abides and changes not, ages long,           1092   
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;           1096   
  To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;      
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?      
    
LEADER


    Happy he, on the weary sea      
Who bath fled the tempest and won the haven.           1000   
    Happy whoso bath 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.           1104   
    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;           1108   
        But whoe’er can know,      
        As the long days go,      
That To Live is happy, bath found his Heaven!      
    
Re-enter DIONYSUS, from the Castle


DIONYSUS


O eye that cravest sights thou must not see,           1112   
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           1116   
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           1120   
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!           1124   
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           1128   
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           1132   
I see their very selves!—But stay; why streams      
That lock abroad, not where I laid it, crossed      
Under the coif?      
    
PENTHEUS


                I did it, as I tossed           1136   
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           1140   
With head straight.      
    
PENTHEUS


                    In the hollow of thine hand      
I lay me. Deck me as thou wilt.      
    
DIONYSUS


                                Thy zone           1144   
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           1148   
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?           1152   
    
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           1156   
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—           1160   
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           1164   
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!           1168   
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!           1172   
    
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 I           1176   
    
PENTHEUS


Forth through the Thebans’ town! I am their king,      
Aye, their one Man, seeing I dare this thing!      
    
DIONYSUS


Yea, thou shalt hear their burden, thou alone;      
Therefore thy trial awaiteth thee!—But on;           1180   
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.           1184   
    
PENTHEUS


For that I go!      
    
DIONYSUS


                Thou shalt be borne on high I      
    
PENTHEUS


That were like pride!      
    
DIONYSUS


                      Thy mother’s hands shall share           1188   
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.           1192   
    
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, Agâvê, now, and ye dark-browed           1196   
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.