dots-menu
×

Home  »  The Bacchæ  »  Lines 800–1199


Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD   Dramatis Personæ

Euripides (480 or 485–406 B.C.). The Bacchæ.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

Lines 800–1199

MESSENGER


Our herded kine were moving in the dawnUp to the peaks, the greyest, coldest time,When the first rays steal earthward, and the rimeYields, when I saw three bands of them. The oneAutonoë led, one Ino, one thine ownMother, Agâvê. There beneath the treesSleeping they lay, like wild things flung at easeIn the forest; one half sinking on a bedOf deep pine greenery; one with careless headAmid the fallen oak leaves; all most coldIn purity—not as thy tale was toldOf wine-cups and wild music and the chaseFor love amid the forest’s loneliness.Then rose the Queen Agâvê suddenlyAmid her band, and gave the God’s wild cry,“Awake, ye Bacchanals! I hear the soundOf 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 unwedAmong them. O’er their shoulders first they shedTheir tresses, and caught up the fallen foldOf mantles where some clasp had loosened hold,And girt the dappled fawn-skins in with longQuick snakes that hissed and writhed with quivering tongue,And one a young fawn held, and one a wildWolf cub, and fed them with white milk, and smiledIn love, young mothers with a mother’s breastAnd babes at home forgotten! Then they pressedWreathed ivy round their brows, and oaken spraysAnd flowering bryony. And one would raiseHer wand and smite the rock, and straight a jetOf quick bright water came. Another setHer thyrsus in the bosomed earth, and thereWas red wine that the God sent up to her,A darkling fountain. And if any lipsSought whiter draughts, with dipping finger-tipsThey pressed the sod, and gushing from the groundCame springs of milk. And reed-wands ivy-crownedRan 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 goneTo adore this God whom now thou rail’st upon!Howbeit, the kine-wardens and shepherds straightCame to one place, amazed, and held debate;And one being there who walked the streets and scannedThe ways of speech, took lead of them whose handKnew 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,Agâvê, from her lawless worshipping,And win us royal thanks?”—And this seemed goodTo all; and through the branching underwoodWe hid us, cowering in the leaves. And thereThrough the appointed hour they made their prayerAnd worship of the Wand, with one accordOf heart and cry—“Iacchos, Bromios, Lord,God of God born!”—And all the mountain felt,And worshipped with them; and the wild things kneltAnd ramped and gloried, and the wildernessWas filled with moving voices and dim stress.Soon, as it chanced, beside my thicket-closeThe Queen herself passed dancing, and I roseAnd sprang to seize her. But she turned her faceUpon me: “Ho, my rovers of the chase,My wild White Hounds, we are hunted! Up, each rodAnd follow, follow, for our Lord and God!”Thereat, for fear they tear us, all we fledAmazed; and on, with hand unweaponèdThey swept toward our herds that browsed the greenHill grass. Great uddered kine then hadst thou seenBellowing in sword-like hands that cleave and tear,A live steer riven asunder, and the airTossed with rent ribs or limbs of cloven tread,And flesh upon the branches, and a redRain from the deep green pines. Yea, bulls of pride,Horns swift to rage, were fronted and asideFlung stumbling, by those multitudinous handsDragged pitilessly. And swifter were the bandsOf garbèd flesh and bone unbound withalThan on thy royal eyes the lids may fall.Then on like birds, by their own speed upborne,They swept toward the plains of waving cornThat lie beside Asopus’ banks, and bringTo Thebes the rich fruit of her harvesting.On Hysiae and Erythrae that lie nursedAmid Kithaeron’s bowering rocks, they burstDestroying, as a foeman’s army comes.They caught up little children from their homes,High on their shoulders, babes unheld, that swayedAnd laughed and fell not; all a wreck they made;Yea, bronze and iron did shatter, and in playStruck hither and thither, yet no wound had they;Caught fire from out the hearths, yea, carried hotFlames in their tresses and were scorchèd not!The village folk in wrath took spear and sword,And turned upon the Bacchæ. Then, dread Lord,The wonder was. For spear nor barbèd brandCould 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 fledDizzily. Sure some God was in these things!And the holy women back to those strange springsReturned, that God had sent them when the dayDawned, on the upper heights; and washed awayThe stain of battle. And those girdling snakesHissed out to lap the waterdrops from cheeksAnd hair and breast.Therefore I counsel thee,O King, receive this Spirit, whoe’er he be,To Thebes in glory. Greatness manifoldIs all about him; and the tale is toldThat this is he who first to man did giveThe 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 thoughtTo 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 landIs 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 knowTo wield the orbèd targe or bend the bow;We march to war—’Fore God, shall women dareSuch deeds against us? ’Tis too much to bear!
DIONYSUS


Thou mark’st me not, O King, and boldest lightMy solemn words; yet, in thine own despite,I warn thee still. Lift thou not up thy spearAgainst a God, but hold thy peace, and fearHis wrath! He will not brook it, if thou frightHis 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 sacrificeThan kick against the pricks, since DionyseIs God, and thou but mortal.
PENTHEUS


That will I!Yea, sacrifice of women’s blood, to cryHis name through all Kithaeron!
DIONYSUS


Ye shall fly,All, and abase your shields of bronzen rimBefore their wands.
PENTHEUS


There is no way with him,This stranger that so dogs us! Well or illI may entreat him, he must babble still!
DIONYSUS


Wait, good my friend! These crooked matters mayEven yet be straightened.[PENTHEUS has started as though to seek his army at the gate.
PENTHEUS


Aye, if I obeyMine own slaves’ will; how else?
DIONYSUS


Myself will leadThe damsels hither, without sword or steed.
PENTHEUS


How now?—This is some plot against me!
DIONYSUS


WhatDost fear? Only to save thee do I plot.
PENTHEUS


It is some compact ye have made, wherebyTo 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 hillPraying!
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 allThe gold of Thebes!
DIONYSUS


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


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


Yet cravest thou suchA sight as would much grieve thee?
PENTHEUS


Yes; I fainWould watch, ambushed among the pines.
DIONYSUS


’Twere vainTo hide. They soon will track thee out.
PENTHEUS


Well said’Twere best done openly.
DIONYSUS


Wilt thou be ledBy me, and try the venture?
PENTHEUS


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


First we needA rich and trailing robe of fine-linenTo 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 howMean’st thou the further plan?
DIONYSUS


First take thy wayWithin. I will array thee.
PENTHEUS


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


Doth it changeSo soon, all thy desire to see this strangeAdoring?
PENTHEUS


Wait! What garb wilt thou bestowAbout me?
DIONYSUS


First a long tress dangling lowBeneath thy shoulders.
PENTHEUS


Aye, and next?
DIONYSUS


The saidRobe, falling to thy feet; and on thine headA 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 goFirst 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 henceUnseen of any?
DIONYSUS


Lonely and untriedThy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!
PENTHEUS


I care for nothing, so these BacchanalsTriumph not against me!… Forward to my hallsWithin!—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—perchanceTo 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,And pays for all his sin!—O Dionyse,This is thine hour and thou not far away.Grant us our vengeance!—First, O Master, stayThe course of reason in him, and instilA 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 streetsLoud scorn, this man of wrath and bitter threatsThat made Thebes tremble, led in woman’s guise.I go to fold that robe of sacrificeOn Penthet’s, that shall deck him to the dark,His mother’s gift!—So shall he learn and markGod’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 MaidensWill 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 streamOf wind in my hair? Shall our white feet gleamIn 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 greenThe little things of the woodland live unseen.What else is Wisdom? What of man’s endeavourOr 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 he 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 greatAnd greater ever,Things which are not of God. In wideAnd devious coverts, hunter-wise,He coucheth Time’s unhasting stride,Following, following, him whose eyesLook 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 bard 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 endeavourOr 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 seaWho bath fled the tempest and won the haven.Happy whoso bath risen, free,Above his striving. For strangely gravenIs the orb of life, that one and anotherIn gold and power may outpass his brother.And men in their millions float and flowAnd 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, bath 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 guiseOf woman, Maenad, saint of Dionyse,To spy upon His Chosen and thine ownMother![Enter PENTHEUS, clad like a Bacchanal, and strangely excited, a spirit of Bacchic madness overshadowing him.Thy shape, methinks, is like to oneOf Cadmus’ royal maids!
PENTHEUS


Yea; and mine eyeIs 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 waitsBefore me? There are horns upon thy brow!What art thou, man or beast! For surely nowThe Bull is on thee!
DIONYSUS


He who erst was wrath,Goes with us now in gentleness. He hathUnsealed thine eyes to see what thou shouldst see
PENTHEUS


Say; stand I not as Ino stands, or sheWho bore me?
DIONYSUS


When I look on thee, it seemsI see their very selves!—But stay; why streamsThat lock abroad, not where I laid it, crossedUnder the coif?
PENTHEUS


I did it, as I tossedMy head in dancing, to and fro, and criedHis holy music!
DIONYSUS (tending him)


It shall soon be tiedAright. ’Tis mine to tend thee.… Nay, but standWith head straight.
PENTHEUS


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


Thy zoneIs loosened likewise; and the folded gownNot evenly falling to the feet.
PENTHEUS


’Tis so,By the right foot. But here methinks, they flowIn one straight line to the heel.
DIONYSUS (while tending him)


And if thou proveTheir madness true, aye, more than true, what loveAnd thanks hast thou for me?
PENTHEUS (not listening to him)


In my right handIs it, or thus, that I should bear the wand,To be most like to them?
DIONYSUS


Up let it swingIn 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 handAnd shoulder to the crags, to wrench them down?
DIONYSUS


Wouldst wreck the Nymphs’ wild temples, and the brownRocks, where Pan pipes at noonday?
PENTHEUS


Nay; not I!Force is not well with women. I will lieHid in the pine-brake.
DIONYSUS


Even as fits a spyOn holy and fearful things, so shalt thou lie!
PENTHEUS (with a laugh)


They lie there now, methinks—the wild birds, caughtBy 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
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;With me into thine ambush shalt thou comeUnscathed; 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 I
PENTHEUS


That were like pride!
DIONYSUS


Thy mother’s hands shall shareThy 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 fellThou walkest, that thy name from South to NorthShall shine, a sign for ever!—Reach thou forthThine arms, Agâvê, now, and ye dark-browedCadmeian sisters! Greet this prince so proudTo the high ordeal, where save God and me,None walks unscathed!—The rest this day shall see.[Exit DIONYSUS following PENTHEUS.


Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD   Dramatis Personæ