Euripides

“ He rests man's spirit dim From grieving, when the vine exalteth him. He giveth sleep to sink the fretful day 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 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 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. ”

“ 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; [Pg 82] 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! ”

“ Dark and of the dark impassioned Is this Pentheus' blood; yea, fashioned Of the Dragon, and his birth From Echîon, 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? ”

“ 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; 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. 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, The flock of the Believing, The maids from loom and weaving By the magic of his breath borne away. ”

“ 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, Echîon's earth-born seed! ”

“ Aye, men will rail that I forget my years, To dance and wreathe with ivy these white hairs; What recks it? Seeing the God no line hath told 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, 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. ”

“ But the Timbrel, the Timbrel was another's, 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 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, 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, The glory of wild-beast ravenings, Where the hill-tops catch the day; To the Phrygian, Lydian, mountains! 'Tis Bromios leads the way. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 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 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, 'Tis more to Aphrodite that they pray. ”

“ Thou yet shalt see him leaping with his train 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; 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. 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 ”

“ 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. ”

“ Thou hast thy joy, when the Gate Stands thronged, and Pentheus' name is lifted great And high by Thebes in clamour; shall not He 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! 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! Chorus. ”

“ 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. ”

“ The one Autonoë led, one Ino, one thine own 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 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 Agâvê suddenly Amid her band, and gave the God's wild cry, "Awake, ye Bacchanals! I hear the sound Of hornèd kine. ”

“ 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? Blessed Land of Piërie, Dionysus loveth thee; He will come to thee with dancing, Come with joy and mystery ”

“ And with them all The seed of womankind from hut and hall Of Thebes, hath this my magic goaded out. And there, with the old King's daughters, in a rout Confused, they make their dwelling-place between The roofless rocks and shadowy pine trees green. Thus shall this Thebes, how sore soe'er it smart, Learn and forget not, till she crave her part In mine adoring; thus must I speak clear To save my mother's fame, and crown me here As true God, born by Semelê to Zeus. Now Cadmus yieldeth up his throne and use Of royal honour to his daughter's son Pentheus; who on my body hath begun A war with God. ”

“ And peace to adore thee, thou Spirit of Guiding Fire! 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. [Pg 26] 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 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! ”

“ 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 [Pg 42] 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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!
[Pg 55]
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! ”

“ Show then 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! ”

“ And by one of those curious confusions of thought, which seem so inconceivable to us and so absolutely natural and obvious to primitive men, the beast torn was also the God! The Orphic congregations of later times, in their most holy gatherings, solemnly partook of the blood of a bull, which was, by a mystery, the blood of Dionysus-Zagreus himself, the "Bull of God," slain in sacrifice for the purification of man. And the Maenads of poetry and myth, among more beautiful proofs of their superhuman or infra-human character, have always to tear bulls in pieces and taste of the blood. ”

“ For they have scorned me whom it least beseemed, Semelê's sisters; mocked my birth, nor deemed That Dionysus sprang from Dian seed. My mother sinned, said they; and in her need, With Cadmus plotting, cloaked her human shame With the dread name of Zeus; for that the flame From heaven consumed her, seeing she lied to God. Thus must they vaunt; and therefore hath my rod [Pg 9] On them first fallen, and stung them forth wild-eyed From empty chambers; the bare mountain side Is made their home, and all their hearts are flame. Yea, I have bound upon the necks of them The harness of my rites. ”