Euripides
The
Bacchae
404 BC
Translator's Note
This
translation by Ian Johnston of Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC, has
certain copyright restrictions. For information please use the following
link: Copyright.
For comments or question please contact Ian
Johnston. This translation was last revised in July 2003.
Note
that the normal line numbers refer to this text and the ones in square brackets
refer to the lines in the Greek text. There is an important gap of 50
lines or more in Euripides' manuscript between lines 1329 and 1330 of the Greek
text. The content of the missing lines is fairly well known, so this
translation has attempted to provide a reconstructed text for the missing
portion (lines 1645 to 1699 of the English text). That reconstructed text
appears between square brackets.
This
translation is available in the form of a paperback book published by Richer
Resources Publications.
For
a brief interpretative introduction to The Bacchae, click
here
The Bacchae
Dramatis Personae
DIONYSUS:
divine son of Zeus and Semele, also called Bromius or Bacchus.
TIRESIAS: an old blind prophet
CADMUS: grandfather of both Dionysus and Pentheus, an old man
PENTHEUS: young king of Thebes, grandson of Cadmus, cousin of Dionysus
AGAVE: mother of Pentheus, daughter of Cadmus, sister of Semele
FIRST MESSENGER a cattle herder
SECOND MESSENGER: an attendant on Pentheus
CHORUS OF BACCHAE: worshippers of Dionysus who have followed him from
Asia, also called Maenads or Bacchants.
SOLDIERS and ATTENDANTS around Pentheus
Supplementary List of
Characters and Places
The
following names are frequently mentioned but are not speaking characters in the
play.
Actaeon:
hunter destroyed by his own dogs as punishment for boasting that he was a better
hunter than goddess Artemis, son of Autonoe (one of Cadmus' daughters).
Aphrodite: goddess of erotic love and sexuality.
Autonoe: sister of Agave, Ino, and Semele, daughter of Cadmus, mother of
Actaeon
Cithaeron: sacred mountain close to Thebes.
Ino: daughter of Cadmus, sister of Agave and Semele
Semele: human daughter of Cadmus, mother of Dionysus, killed by Zeus'
lightning bolt.
Thebes: a major Greek city, where (according to some legends) the Greek
race originated.
Tmolus: sacred mountain in Asia Minor, associated with Dionysus.
A
thyrsus (pl. thyrsoi) is a hollow plant stalk, usually decorated
with ivy, and carried as a symbol of Dionysus in the dancing celebrations (where
it can acquire magical powers).
[Scene:
The Greek city of Thebes, outside the royal palace. Dionysus, appearing as
young man, is alone, with the palace behind him, its main doors facing the
audience. He speaks directly to the audience]
DIONYSUS:
I've arrived here in the land of Thebes,
I, Dionysus, son of Zeus,
born to him
from Semele, Cadmus'
daughter, delivered
by a fiery
midwife—Zeus' lightning flash.
Yes, I've changed my form
from god to human,
appearing here at these
streams of Dirce,
the waters of Ismarus. I
see my mother's tomb—
for she was wiped out by
that lightning bolt.
It's there, by the
palace, with that rubble,
the remnants of her
house, still smoldering
10
from Zeus' living fire—Hera's undying outrage
against my mother. But I
praise Cadmus.
[10]
He's made his daughter's shrine a sacred place.
I have myself completely
covered it
with leafy shoots of
grape-bearing vines.
I've left the fabulously
wealthy East,
lands of Lydians and
Phrygians,
Persia's sun-drenched
plains, walled towns in Bactria.
I've moved across the
bleak lands of the Medes,
through rich Arabia, all
Asian lands,
20
along the salt-sea coast, through those towns
with their beautifully
constructed towers,
full of barbarians and
Greeks all intermingled.
Now I've come to Thebes,
city of Greeks,
[20]
only after I've set those eastern lands
dancing in the mysteries
I established,
making known to men my
own divinity.
Thebes is the first city
of the Greeks
where I've roused people
to shout out my cries,
with this deerskin draped
around my body,
30
this ivy spear, a thyrsus,
in my hand.
For my mother's sisters
have acted badly,
something they, of all
people, should avoid.
They boasted aloud that
I, Dionysus,
was no child of Zeus,
claiming Semele,
once she was pregnant by
some mortal man,
attributed her bad luck
in bed to Zeus,
a story made up (they
said) to trick Cadmus.
[30]
Those sisters state that's why Zeus killed her,
because she lied about
the man she'd slept with.
40
So I've driven those
women from their homes
in a frenzy—they now
live in the mountains,
out of their minds.
I've made them put on costumes,
outfits appropriate for
my mysteries.
All Theban
offspring—or, at least, all women—
I've driven in a crazed
fit from their homes.
Now they sit out there
among the rocks,
underneath green pine
trees, no roof overhead,
Cadmus' daughters in
their company as well.
For this city has to
learn, though against its will,
50
that it has yet to be
initiated
into my Dionysian rites.
Here I plead
[40]
the cause of my own mother, Semele,
appearing as a god to
mortal men,
the one she bore to Zeus.
Now Cadmus,
the old king, has just
transferred his power,
his royal authority, to
Pentheus,
his daughter's son, who,
in my case at least,
fights against the gods,
prohibiting me
all sacrificial
offerings. When he prays,
60
he chooses to ignore me.
For this neglect
I'll demonstrate to him,
to all in Thebes,
that I was born a god.
Once these things here
have been made right,
I'll move on somewhere else,
to some other land,
revealing who I am.
But if Thebans in this
city, in their anger,
[50]
try to make those Bacchic women leave,
to drive them from the
mountains forcibly,
then I, commander of
these Maenads,
will fight them.
That's why I've transformed myself,
70
assumed a mortal shape,
altered my looks,
so I resemble any human
being.
[Enter
the Chorus of Bacchae, dressed in ritual deerskin, carrying small drums like
tambourines]
But you there, you women who've left Tmolus,
backbone of Lydia, my
band of worshippers,
whom I've led here from
barbarian lands,
my comrades on the road
and when we rest,
take up your drums, those
instruments of yours
from Phrygian cities,
first invented
by mother Rhea and
myself. Move round here,
beat those drums by
Pentheus' palace,
80 [60]
let Cadmus' city see you,
while I go,
in person, to the clefts
of Mount Cithaeron,
to my Bacchae, to join
their dancing.
[Exit
Dionysus]
CHORUS
[singing and dancing]
FIRST
VOICE: From Asia, from sacred Tmolus
I've come to dance,
to move swiftly in my
dance—
for Bromius—
sweet and easy task,
to cry out in
celebration,
hailing great god
Bacchus.
90
SECOND
VOICE: Who's in the street? Who's there? Who?
Let him stay inside
out of our way.
Let every mouth be pure,
[70]
completely holy,
speak no profanities.
In my hymn I celebrate
our old eternal custom,
hailing Dionysus.
THIRD
VOICE: O, blessed is the man, 100
the fortunate man who knows
the rituals of the gods,
who leads a pious life,
whose spirit merges
with these Bacchic
celebrations,
frenzied dancing in the
mountains,
our purifying rites—
one who reveres these
mysteries
from Cybele, our great
mother,
who, waving the thyrsus,
110
[80]
forehead crowned with ivy,
serves Dionysus.
FOURTH
VOICE: On Bacchae! Bacchae, move!
Bring home Bromius, our
god,
son of god, great
Dionysus,
from Phrygian mountains
to spacious roads of
Greece—
Hail Bromius!
FIFTH
VOICE: His mother dropped him early,
as her womb, in forceful
birth pangs,
120
was struck by Zeus' flying lightning bolt,
[90]
a blast which took her
life.
Then Zeus, son of Cronos,
at once hid him away
in a secret birthing
chamber,
buried in his thigh,
shut in with golden
clasps,
concealed from Hera.
SIXTH
VOICE: Fates made him perfect.
Then Zeus gave birth to
him,
130
[100]
the god with ox's horns,
crowned with wreaths of
snakes—
that's why the Maenads
twist in their hair
wild snakes they capture.
SEVENTH
VOICE: O Thebes, nursemaid of Semele,
put on your ivy crown,
flaunt your green yew,
flaunt its sweet fruit!
Consecrate yourselves to
Bacchus,
140
with stems of oak or fir,
[110]
Dress yourselves in spotted fawn skins,
trimmed with white
sheep's wool.
As you wave your thyrsus,
revere the violence it
contains.
All the earth will dance
at once.
Whoever leads our
dancing—
that one is Bromius!
To the mountain, to the
mountain,
where the pack of women
waits,
150
all stung to frenzied madness
to leave their weaving
shuttles,
goaded on by Dionysus.
EIGHTH
VOICE: O you dark chambers of the Curetes,
[120]
you sacred caves in Crete,
birthplace of Zeus,
where the Corybantes in
their caves,
men with triple helmets,
made for me
this circle of stretched
hide.
In their wild ecstatic
dancing,
160
they mixed this drum beat
with the sweet seductive
tones
of flutes from Phrygia,
then gave it to mother
Rhea
to beat time for the
Bacchae,
when they sang in
ecstasy.
Nearby, orgiastic satyrs,
[130]
in ritual worship of the mother goddess,
took that drum, then
brought it
into their biennial
dance, 170
bringing joy to Dionysus.
NINTH
VOICE: He's welcome in the mountains,
when he sinks down to the
ground,
after the running dance,
wrapped in holy deerskin,
hunting the goat's blood,
blood of the slain beast,
devouring its raw flesh
with joy,
rushing off into the
mountains,
in Phrygia, in Lydia,
180
[140]
leading the dance—
Bromius—Evoë!
ALL:
The land flows with milk,
the land flows with wine,
the land flows with honey
from the bees.
He holds the torch high,
our leader, the Bacchic
One,
blazing flame of pine,
sweet smoke like Syrian
incense,
trailing from his thyrsus.
190
As he dances, he runs,
here and there,
rousing the stragglers,
stirring them with his
cries,
thick hair rippling in
the breeze.
[150]
Among the Maenads' shouts
his voice reverberates:
"On Bacchants, on!
With the glitter of
Tmolus,
which flows with gold,
200
chant songs to Dionysus,
to the loud beat of our
drums.
Celebrate the god of joy
with your own joy,
with Phrygian cries and
shouts!
When sweet sacred pipes
[160]
play out their rhythmic
holy song,
in time to the dancing
wanderers,
then to the mountains,
on, on to the
mountains."
210
Then the bacchanalian woman
is filled with total
joy—
like a foal in pasture
right beside her
mother—
her swift feet skip in
playful dance.
[Enter
Tiresias, a very old blind man, dressed in clothing appropriate for the
Dionysian ritual. He goes up to the palace door and knocks very
aggressively]
TIRESIAS:
[shouting] Where's the servant on the door? You in there,
[170]
tell Cadmus to get
himself out of the house,
Agenor's lad, who came
here from Sidon,
then put up the towers of
this Theban town.
Go tell him Tiresias is
waiting for him.
220
He knows well enough why I've come for him.
I'm an old man, and he's
even older,
but we've agreed make
ourselves a thyrsus,
to put on fawn skins and
crown our heads
with garlands of these
ivy branches.
[Enter
Cadmus from the palace, a very old man, also dressed in clothing appropriate for
the Dionysian ritual]
CADMUS:
My dearest friend,
I was inside the house.
I heard your voice.
I recognized it—the
voice of a man truly wise.
So I've come equipped
with all this god stuff.
[180]
We must sing his praise, as much as we can,
for this Dionysus, well,
he's my daughter's child.
230
Now he's revealed himself
a god to men.
Where must I go and
dance? Where do I get
to move my feet and shake
my old gray head?
You must guide me,
Tiresias, one old man
leading another, for
you're the expert here.
Oh, I'll never tire of
waving this thyrsus,
day and night, striking
the ground. What rapture!
Now we can forget that
we're old men.
TIRESIAS:
You feel the same way I do, then.
For I'm young and going
to try the dancing.
240
[190]
CADMUS:
Shall we go up the mountain in a chariot?
TIRESIAS:
The god would not then get complete respect.
CADMUS:
So I'll be your nursemaid—one old man
will take charge of
another one?
TIRESIAS:
The god himself
will get us to the place
without our efforts.
CADMUS:
Of all the city are we the only ones
who'll dance to honour
Bacchus?
TIRESIAS:
Yes, indeed,
for we're the only ones
whose minds are clear.
As for the others, well,
their thinking's wrong.
CADMUS: There'll be a long wait. Take my hand. 250
TIRESIAS:
[holding out his hand] Here. Take it—make a pair of it and yours.
CADMUS:
I'm a mortal, so I don't mock the gods.
TIRESIAS:
To the gods we mortals are all ignorant.
[200]
Those old traditions from
our ancestors,
the ones we've had as
long as time itself,
no argument will ever
overthrow,
in spite of subtleties
sharp minds invent.
Will someone say I
disrespect old age,
if I intend to dance with
ivy on my head?
Not so, for the god makes
no distinctions—
260
whether the dancing is for young or old.
He wants to gather
honours from us all,
to be praised communally,
without division.
CADMUS:
Since you're blind to daylight, Tiresias,
[210]
I'll be your seer, tell you what's going on—
Pentheus, that child of
Echion, the one
to whom I handed over
power in this land,
he's coming here, to the
house. He's in a rush.
He looks so flustered.
What news will he bring?
[Enter
Pentheus, with some armed attendants. At first he does not notice Cadmus
and Tiresias, not until he calls attention to them]
PENTHEUS:
It so happens I've been away from Thebes,
270
but
I hear about disgusting things going on,
here in the city—women
leaving home
to go to silly Bacchic
rituals,
cavorting there in
mountain shadows,
with dances honouring
some upstart god,
this Dionysus, whoever he
may be. Mixing bowls
[220]
in
the middle of their meetings are filled with wine.
They creep off one by one
to lonely spots
to have sex with men,
claiming they're Maenads
busy worshipping.
But they rank Aphrodite,
280
goddess
of sexual desire, ahead of Bacchus.
All the ones I've caught,
my servants guard
in our public prison,
their hands chained up.
All those who're still
away, I'll chase down,
hunt them from the
mountains—that includes
Agave, who bore me to
Echion, Ino,
and Autonoe, Actaeon's
mother.
[230]
Once I've clamped them all
in iron fetters,
I'll quickly end this
perverse nastiness,
this Bacchic celebration.
People say
290
some
stranger has arrived, some wizard,
a conjurer from the land
of Lydia—
with sweet-smelling hair
in golden ringlets
and Aphrodite's charms in
wine-dark eyes.
He hangs around the young
girls day and night,
dangling in front of them
his joyful mysteries.
If I catch him in this
city, I'll stop him.
He'll make no more clatter
with his thyrsus,
[240]
or
wave his hair around. I'll chop off his head,
slice it right from his
body. This man claims 300
that
Dionysus is a god, alleging
that once upon a time he
was sewn up,
stitched inside Zeus'
thigh—but Dionysus
was burned to death, along
with Semele,
in that lightning strike,
because she'd lied.
She maintained that she'd
had sex with Zeus.
All this surely merits
harsh punishment,
death by hanging.
Whoever this stranger is,
his insolence is an insult
to me.
[Noticing Cadmus and Tiresias for the first time]
Well,
here's something totally astounding!
310
I see Tiresias, our soothsayer, all dressed up
in dappled fawn skins—my
mother's father, too!
[250]
This
is ridiculous. To take a thyrsus
and jump around like this.
[To Cadmus] You sir,
I don't like to see such
arrant foolishness
from your old age.
Why not throw out that ivy?
And, grandfather, why not
let that thyrsus go?
[Turning to address Tiresias]
Tiresias, you're the one who's put him up to this.
You want to bring in some
new god for men,
so you'll be able to
inspect more birds,
320
and from his sacrifices
make more money.
If your gray old age did
not protect you,
you'd sit in chains with
all the Bacchae
for such a ceremonial
perversion.
[260]
Whenever
women at some banquet
start to take pleasure in
the gleaming wine,
I say there's nothing
healthy in their worshipping.
CHORUS
LEADER: That's impiety! O stranger,
have you no reverence for
the gods, for Cadmus,
who sowed that crop of men
born from the earth?
330
You're
a child of Echion—do you wish
to bring your own family
into disrepute?
TIRESIAS:
When a man of wisdom has good occasion
to speak out, and takes
the opportunity,
it's not that hard to give
an excellent speech.
You've got a quick tongue
and seem intelligent,
but your words don't make
any sense at all.
A fluent orator whose
power comes
[270]
from self-assurance and
from nothing else
makes a bad citizen, for
he lacks sense.
340
This man, this new god,
whom you ridicule—
it's impossible for me to
tell you
just how great he'll be in
all of Greece.
Young man, among human
beings two things
stand out preeminent, of
highest rank.
Goddess Demeter is
one—she's the earth
(though you can call her
any name you wish),
and she feeds mortal
people cereal grains.
The other one came later,
born of Semele—
he brought with him liquor
from the grape,
350
something
to match the bread from Demeter.
He introduced it among
mortal men.
When they can drink up
what streams off the vine,
unhappy mortals are
released from pain.
[280]
It
grants them sleep, allows them to forget
their daily troubles.
Apart from wine,
there is no cure for human
hardship.
He, being a god, is poured
out to the gods,
so human beings receive
fine benefits
as gifts from him.
And yet you mock him. Why?
360
Because
he was sewn into Zeus thigh?
Well, I'll show you how
this all makes sense.
When Zeus grabbed him from
the lightning flame,
he brought him to Olympus
as a god.
But Hera wished to throw
him out of heaven.
[290]
So
Zeus, in a manner worthy of a god,
came up with a cunning
counter plan.
From the sky which flows
around the earth,
Zeus broke off a piece,
shaped it like Dionysus,
then gave that to Hera, as
a hostage.
370
The
real child he sent to nymphs to raise,
thus saving him from
Hera's jealousy.
Over time people mixed up
"sky" and "thigh,"
saying he'd come from
Zeus's thigh, changing words,
because he, a god, had
once been hostage
to goddess Hera. So
they made up the tale.
This god's a prophet, too,
for in his rites—
the Bacchic celebrations
and the madness—
a huge prophetic powere is
unleashed.
When the god fully enters
human bodies,
380
[300]
he
makes those possessed by frenzy prophets.
They speak of what will
come in future days
He also shares the work of
war god Ares.
For there are times an
army all drawn up,
its weapons ready, can
shake with terror,
before any man has set
hand to his spear.
Such madness comes from
Dionysus.
Some day you'll see him on
those rocks at Delphi,
leaping with torches on
the higher slopes,
way up there between two
mountain peaks,
390
waving
and shaking his Bacchic wand,
a great power in Greece.
Trust me, Pentheus.
Don't be too confident a
sovereign's force
controls men. If
something seems right to you,
[310]
but
your mind's diseased, don't think that's wisdom.
So welcome this god into
your country.
Pour libations to him,
then celebrate
these Bacchic rites with
garlands on your head.
On women, where Aphrodite
is concerned,
Dionysus will not enforce
restraint—
400
such
modesty you must seek in nature,
where it already dwells.
For any woman
whose character is chaste
won't be defiled
by Bacchic revelry.
Don't you see that?
When there are many people
at your gates,
you're happy. The
city shouts your praise.
It celebrates the name of
Pentheus.
[320]
The
god, too, I think, derives great pleasure
from being honoured.
And so Cadmus,
whom you mock, and I will
crown our heads
410
with
ivy and will join the ritual,
an old gray team, but
still we have to dance.
Your words will not turn
me against the god,
for you are mad—under a
cruel delusion.
No drug can heal that
ailment—in fact,
some drug has caused it.
CHORUS
LEADER:
Old man,
you've not disgraced
Apollo with your words,
and by honouring this
Dionysus,
a great god, you show your
moderation.
CADMUS:
My child, Tiresias has given you
420
[330]
some
good advice. You should live among us,
not outside traditions.
At this point,
you're flying
around—thinking, but not clearly.
For if, as you claim, this
man is not a god,
why not call him one?
Why not tell a lie,
a really good one?
Then it will seem
that some god has been
born to Semele.
We—and all our
family—will win honour.
Remember the dismal fate
of Actaeon—
torn to pieces in some
mountain forest
430
by
blood-thirsty dogs he'd raised himself.
He'd boasted he was better
in the hunt
[340]
than
Artemis. Don't suffer the same fate.
Come here. Let me crown
your head with ivy.
Join us in giving honour
to this god.
PENTHEUS:
Keep your hands off me! Be off with you—
go to these Bacchic
rituals of yours.
But don't infect me with
your madness.
As for the one who in this
foolishness
has been your teacher,
I'll bring him to justice.
440
[To
his attendants]
One of you, go quickly to where this man,
Tiresias, has that seat of
his, the place
where he inspects his
birds. Take some levers,
knock it down. Demolish it
completely.
Turn the whole place
upside down—all of it.
Let his holy ribbons fly
off in the winds.
[350]
That
way I'll really do him damage.
You others—go to the
city, scour it
to capture this effeminate
stranger,
who corrupts our women
with a new disease,
450
and
thus infects our beds. If you get him,
tie him up and bring him
here for judgment,
a death by stoning.
That way he'll see
his rites in Thebes come
to a bitter end.
[Exit
Pentheus into the palace]
TIRESIAS:
You unhappy man, you've no idea
just what it is you're
saying. You've gone mad!
Even before now you
weren't in your right mind.
Let's be off, Cadmus.
We'll pray to the god
[360]
on
Pentheus' behalf, though he's a savage,
and for the city, too, so
he won't harm it. 460
Come
with me—bring the ivy-covered staff.
See if you can help
support my body.
I'll do the same for you.
It would be shameful
if two old men collapsed.
No matter—
for we must serve Bacchus,
son of Zeus.
But you, Cadmus, you
should be more careful,
or Pentheus will bring
trouble in your home.
I'm not saying this as a
prophecy,
but on the basis of what's
going on.
A man who's mad tends to
utter madness.
470
[Exit
Tiresias and Cadmus together on their way to the mountains]
CHORUS:
Holiness, queen of the gods,
[370]
Holiness,
sweeping over earth
on wings of gold,
do you hear what
Pentheus says?
Do you hear the
profanities he utters,
the insults against
Bromius,
child of Semele, chief god
among all blessed gods,
for those who wear their
lovely garlands
in a spirit of harmonious
joy?
480
This
is his special office,
to lead men together in
the dance,
to make them laugh as the
flute plays,
[380]
to
bring all sorrows to an end,
at the god's sacrificial
feast,
when the gleaming liquid
grapes arrive,
when the wine bowl casts
its sleep
on ivy-covered feasting
men.
Unbridled
tongues and lawless folly
come to an end only in
disaster.
490
A
peaceful life of wisdom
[390]
maintains
tranquillity.
It keeps the home united.
Though gods live in the
sky,
from far away in heaven
they gaze upon the deeds
of men.
But being clever isn't
wisdom.
And thinking deeply about
things
isn't suitable for mortal
men.
Our life is brief—that's
why
500
the man who chases
greatness
fails to grasp what's near
at hand.
That's what madmen do,
[400]
men
who've lost their wits.
That's what I believe.
Would
I might go to Cyprus,
island of Aphrodite,
where the Erotes,
bewitching goddesses of
love,
soothe the hearts of
humankind,
510
or
to Paphos, rich and fertile,
not with rain, but with
the waters
of a hundred flowing
mouths
of a strange and foreign
river.
Oh Bromius, Bromius,
inspired god who leads the
Bacchae,
lead me away to lovely
Peira,
[410]
where
Muses dwell,
or to Olympus' sacred
slopes,
where Graces live, Desire,
too,
520
where
it's lawful and appropriate
to celebrate our rites
with Bacchus.
This
god, son of Zeus,
rejoices in our banquets.
He adores the goddess
Peace,
and she brings riches with
her
[420]
and
nourishes the young.
The god gives his wine
equally,
sharing with rich and poor
alike.
It takes away all sorrow.
530
But
he hates the man who doesn't care
to live his life in
happiness,
by day and through the
friendly nights.
From those who deny such
common things
he removes intelligence,
their knowledge of true
wisdom.
So I take this as my
rule—
follow what common people
think—
[430]
do
what most men do.
[Enter
a group of soldiers, bringing Dionysus with his arms tied up. Pentheus
enters from the palace]
SOLDIER:
Pentheus, we're here because we've caught the prey 540
you
sent us out to catch. Yes, our attempts
have proved successful.
The beast you see here
was tame with us. He
didn't try to run.
No, he surrendered
willingly enough,
without turning pale or
changing colour
on those wine dark cheeks.
He even laughed at us,
inviting us to tie him up
and lead him off.
[440]
He
stood still, making it easier for me
to take him in. It
was awkward, so I said,
"Stranger, I don't
want to lead you off,
550
but
I'm under orders here from Pentheus,
who sent me."
And there's something else—
those Bacchic women you
locked up, the ones
you took in chains into
the public prison—
they've all escaped.
They're gone—playing around
in some meadow, calling
out to Bromius,
summoning their god.
Chains fell off their feet,
just dropping on their
own. Keys opened doors
not turned by human hands.
This man here
has come to Thebes full of
amazing tricks.
560
But
now the rest of this affair is up to you.
[450]
[Soldier
hands chained Dionysus over to Pentheus]
PENTHEUS:
[Moving up close to Dionysus, inspecting him carefully]
Untie his hands.
I've got him in my nets.
He's not fast enough to
get away from me.
[Soldiers
remove the chains from Dionysus' hands. Pentheus moves in closer]
Well,
stranger, I see this body of yours
is not unsuitable for
women's pleasure—
that's why you've come to
Thebes. As for your hair,
it's long, which suggests
that you're no wrestler.
It flows across your
cheeks That's most seductive.
You've a white skin, too.
You've looked after it,
avoiding the sun's rays by
staying in the shade,
570
while
with your beauty you chase Aphrodite.
But first tell me
something of your family.
[460]
DIONYSUS:
That's easy enough, though I'm not boasting.
You've heard of Tmolus,
where flowers grow.
PENTHEUS:
I know it. It's around the town of Sardis.
DIONYSUS:
I'm from there. My home land is Lydia.
PENTHEUS:
Why do you bring these rituals to Greece?
DIONYSUS:
Dionysus sent me—the son of Zeus.
PENTHEUS:
Is there some Zeus there who creates new gods?
DIONYSUS: No. It's the same Zeus who wed Semele right here. 580
PENTHEUS:
Did this Zeus overpower you at night,
in your dreams? Or
were your eyes wide open?
DIONYSUS:
I saw him—he saw me. He gave me
[470]
the
sacred rituals.
PENTHEUS:
Tell me what they're like,
those rituals of yours.
DIONYSUS:
That information
cannot be passed on to men
like you,
those uninitiated in the
rites of Bacchus.
PENTHEUS:
Do they benefit those who sacrifice?
DIONYSUS:
They're worth knowing, but you're not allowed to hear.
PENTHEUS:
You've avoided that question skillfully,
590
making
me want to hear an answer.
DIONYSUS:
The rituals are no friend of any man
who's hostile to the gods.
PENTHEUS:
This god of yours,
since you saw him clearly,
what's he like?
DIONYSUS:
He was what he wished to be, not made to order.
PENTHEUS:
Again you fluently evade my question,
saying nothing whatsoever.
DIONYSUS:
Yes, but then
a man can seem totally
ignorant
when speaking to a fool.
[480]
PENTHEUS:
Is Thebes
the first place you've
come to with your god?
600
DIONYSUS:
All the barbarians are dancing in these rites.
PENTHEUS:
I'm not surprised. They're stupider than Greeks.
DIONYSUS:
In this they are much wiser. But their laws
are very different, too.
PENTHEUS:
When you dance these rites,
is it at night or during
daylight?
DIONYSUS:
Mainly at night. Shadows confer solemnity.
PENTHEUS:
And deceive the women. It's all corrupt!
DIONYSUS:
One can do shameful things in daylight, too.
PENTHEUS:
You must be punished for these evil games.
DIONYSUS:
You, too—for foolishness, impiety
610
towards
the god.
[490]
PENTHEUS:
How brash this Bacchant is!
How well prepared in using
language!
DIONYSUS:
What punishment am I to suffer?
What harsh penalties will
you inflict?
PENTHEUS:
First, I'll cut off this delicate hair of yours.
DIONYSUS:
My hair is sacred. I grow it for the god.
PENTHEUS:
And give me that thyrsus in your hand.
DIONYSUS:
This wand I carry is the god's, not mine.
You'll have to seize it
from me for yourself.
PENTHEUS: We'll lock your body up inside, in prison. 620
DIONYSUS:
The god will personally set me free,
whenever I so choose.
PENTHEUS:
That only works
if you call him while
among the Bacchae.
DIONYSUS: He sees my suffering now—and from near by. [500]
PENTHEUS:
Where is he then? My eyes don't see him.
DIONYSUS:
He's where I am. You can't see him,
because you don't believe.
PENTHEUS:
[To his attendants] Seize him.
He's insulting Thebes and
me.
DIONYSUS:
I warn you—you shouldn't tie me up.
I've got my wits about me.
You've lost yours.
630
PENTHEUS:
But I'm more powerful than you,
so I'll have you put in
chains.
DIONYSUS:
You're quite ignorant
of why you live, what you
do, and who you are.
PENTHEUS:
I am Pentheus, son of Agave and Echion.
DIONYSUS:
A suitable name. It suggests misfortune.
PENTHEUS:
[to his soldiers] Go
now.
Lock him up—in the
adjoining stables.
That way he'll see nothing
but the darkness.
[510]
There
you can dance. As for all those women,
those partners in crime
you brought along with you,
we'll sell them off or
keep them here as slaves,
640
working
our looms, once we've stopped their hands
beating those drum skins,
making all that noise.
[Exit
Pentheus into the palace, leaving Dionysus with the soldiers]
DIONYSUS:
I'll go, then. For I won't have to suffer
what won't occur.
But you can be sure of this—
Dionysus, whom you
claim does not exist,
will go after you for
retribution
after all your insolence.
He's the one
you put in chains when you
treat me unjustly.
[The
soldiers lead Dionysus away to an area beside the palace]
CHORUS:
O Sacred Dirce, blessed maiden,
daughter of Achelous,
650
[520]
your
streams once received
the new-born child of
Zeus,
when his father snatched
him
from those immortal fires,
then hid him in his thigh,
crying out these words,
"Go, Dithyrambus,
enter my male womb.
I'll make you known as
Bacchus
to all those in Thebes,
660
who'll
invoke you with that name."
But you, o sacred Dirce,
[530]
why
do you resist me,
my garland-bearing
company,
along your river banks?
Why push me away?
Why seek to flee from me?
I tell you, you'll find
joy
in grape-filled vines from
Dionysus.
They'll make you love him.
670
What
rage, what rage
shows up in that
earth-bound race
of Pentheus, born to
Echion,
[540]
an
earth-bound mortal.
He's descended from a
snake,
that Pentheus, a savage
beast,
not a normal mortal man,
but some bloody monster
who fights against the
gods.
He'll soon bind me in
chains,
680
as a worshipper of
Bacchus.
Already he holds in his
house
my fellow Bacchic
revelers,
hidden there in some dark
cell.
Do you see, Dionysus,
child of Zeus, your
followers
[550]
fighting
their oppression?
Come down, my lord,
down from Olympus,
wave your golden thyrsus,
690
to
cut short the profanities
of this blood-thirsty man.
Where
on Mount Nysa,
which nourishes wild
beasts,
where on the Corcyrean
heights,
where do you wave your
thyrsus
over your worshippers,
oh Dionysus?
Perhaps in those thick
woods
[560]
of
Mount Olympus,
700
where Orpheus once played
his lyre,
brought trees together
with his songs,
collecting wild beasts
round him.
Oh blessed Peiria,
whom Dionysus loves—
he'll come to set you
dancing
in the Bacchic
celebrations.
He'll cross the foaming
Axius,
lead his whirling Maenads
on,
[570]
leaving
behind the river Lydias 710
which
enriches mortal men,
and which, they say, acts
as a father,
nourishing with many
lovely streams
a land where horses
flourish.
[The
soldiers move in to round up the chorus of Bacchae. As they do so, the
ground begins to shake, thunder sounds, lightning flashes, and the entire palace
starts to break apart]
DIONYSUS:
[shouting from within the palace]
Io! Hear me, hear me
as I call you.
Io! Bacchae! Io
Bacchae!
CHORUS:
[a confusion of different voices in the following speeches]
Who's that? Who
is it? It's Dionysus' voice!
It's calling me. But
from what direction?
DIONYSUS:
[From inside the palace] Io! Io! I'm calling out again— [580]
the
son of Semele, a child of Zeus!
720
CHORUS:
Io! Io! Lord and master!
Come join our company,
Bromius, oh Bromius!
DIONYSUS:
[From inside] Sacred lord of earthquakes, shake this ground.
[The
earthquake tremors resume]
CHORUS
VOICE 1: Ai! Soon Pentheus' palace
will be shaken into
rubble.
CHORUS
VOICE 2: Dionysus is in the house—revere him.
CHORUS VOICE 3: We revere him, we revere him. [590]
CHORUS
VOICE 4: You see those stone lintels on the pillars—
they're splitting up.
It's Bromius calling,
730
shouting
to us from inside the walls.
DIONYSUS:
[from inside the palace] Let fiery lightning strike right now—
burn Pentheus'
palace—consume it all!
CHORUS
VOICE 5: Look! Don't you see the fire—
there by the sacred tomb
of Semele!
The flame left by that
thunderbolt from Zeus,
when the lightning flash
destroyed her,
all that time ago.
Oh Maenads—
throw your bodies on the
ground, down, down,
[600]
for
our master, Zeus' son, moves now
740
against the palace—to
demolish it.
[Enter
Dionysus, bursting through the palace front doors, free of all chains, smiling
and supremely confident.]
DIONYSUS:
Ah, my barbarian Asian women,
Do you lie there on the
ground prostrate with fear?
It seems you feel
Dionysus' power,
as he rattles Pentheus'
palace.
Get up now. Be
brave. And stop your trembling.
CHORUS
LEADER: How happy I am to see you—
Our greatest light in all
the joyful dancing.
We felt alone and totally
abandoned.
DIONYSUS:
Did you feel despair when I was sent away,
750
[610]
cast
down in Pentheus' gloomy dungeon?
CHORUS
LEADER: How could I not? Who'll protect me
if you run into trouble?
But tell me,
how did you escape that
ungodly man?
DIONYSUS:
No trouble. I saved myself with ease.
CHORUS
LEADER: But didn't he bind up your hands up in chains?
DIONYSUS:
In this business I was playing with him—
he thought he was tying me
up, the fool!
He didn't even touch or
handle me,
he was so busy feeding his
desires.
760
In
that stable where he went to tie me up,
he found a bull. He
threw the iron fetters
around its knees and
hooves. As he did so,
he kept panting in his
rage, dripping sweat
[620]
from
his whole body—his teeth gnawed his lip.
I watched him, sitting
quietly nearby.
After a while, Bacchus
came and shook the place,
setting his mother
Semele's tomb on fire.
Seeing that, Pentheus
thought his palace
was burning down. He
ran round, here and there,
770
yelling
to his slaves to bring more water.
His servants set to
work—and all for nothing!
Once I'd escaped, he ended
all that work.
Seizing a dark sword, he
rushed inside the house.
Then, it seems to me, but
I'm guessing now,
Bromius set up out there
in the courtyard
[630]
some
phantom image. Pentheus charged it,
slashing away at nothing
but bright air,
thinking he was butchering
me. There's more—
Bacchus kept hurting him
in still more ways.
780
He
knocked his house down, right to the ground,
all shattered, so Pentheus
has witnessed
a bitter end to my
imprisonment.
He's dropped his sword,
worn out, exhausted,
a mere mortal daring to
fight a god.
So now I've strolled out
calmly to you,
leaving the house,
ignoring Pentheus.
Wait! It seems to me
I hear marching feet—
no doubt he'll come out
front here soon enough.
What will he say, I
wonder, after this?
790
Well,
I'll deal with him quite gently,
[640]
even if he comes out
breathing up a storm.
After all, a wise man
ought to keep his temper.
[Pentheus comes
hurriedly out of the palace, accompanied by armed soldiers]
PENTHEUS:
What's happening to me—total disaster!
The stranger's escaped,
and we'd just chained him up.
[Seeing Dionysus]
Ah
ha! Here is the man—right here.
What's going on? How
did you get out?
How come you're here,
outside my palace?
DIONYSUS:
Hold on. Calm down. Don't be so angry.
PENTHEUS: How did you escape your chains and get here? 800
DIONYSUS:
Didn't I say someone would release me—
or did you miss that part?
PENTHEUS:
Who was it?
[650]
You're
always explaining things in riddles.
DIONYSUS:
It was the one who cultivates for men
the richly clustering
vine.
PENTHEUS:
Ah, this Dionysus.
Your words are a lovely
insult to your god.
DIONYSUS:
He came to Thebes with nothing but good things.
PENTHEUS:
[To soldiers] Seal off all the towers on my orders—
all of them around the
city.
DIONYSUS:
What for?
Surely a god can make it
over any wall?
810
PENTHEUS:
You're so wise, except in all those things
in which you should be
wise.
DIONYSUS:
I was born wise,
especially in matters
where I need to be.
[Enter
the Messenger, a cattle herder from the hills]
DIONYSUS:
But first you'd better listen to this man,
hear what he has to say,
for he's come here
from the mountains to
report to you.
I'll still be here for
you. I won't run off.
MESSENGER:
Pentheus, ruler of this land of Thebes,
[660]
I've
just left Cithaeron, that mountain
where the sparkling snow
never melts away.
820
PENTHEUS:
What this important news you've come with?
MESSENGER:
I saw those women in their Bacchic revels,
those sacred screamers,
all driven crazy,
the ones who run barefoot
from their homes.
I came, my lord, to tell
you and the city
the dreadful things
they're doing, their actions
are beyond all wonder.
But, my lord,
first I wish to know if I
should tell you,
openly report what's going
on up there,
or whether I should hold
my tongue.
830
Your
mood changes so fast I get afraid—
[670]
your
sharp spirit, your all-too-royal temper.
PENTHEUS:
Speak on. Whatever you have to report,
you'll get no punishment
at all from me.
It's not right to vent
one's anger on the just.
The more terrible the
things you tell me
about those Bacchic women,
the worse
I'll move against the one
who taught them
all their devious tricks.
MESSENGER:
The grazing cattle
were just moving into
upland pastures, 840
at
the hour the sun sends out its beams
to warm the earth.
Right then I saw them—
three groups of dancing
women. One of them
[680]
Autonoe led. Your mother,
Agave,
led the second group, and
Ino led the third.
They were all asleep,
bodies quite relaxed,
some leaning back on leafy
boughs of pine,
others cradling heads on
oak-leaf pillows,
resting on the ground—in
all modesty.
They weren't as you
described—all drunk on wine
850
or
on the music of their flutes, hunting
for Aphrodite in the woods
alone.
Once she heard my horned
cattle lowing,
your mother stood up amid
those Bacchae,
then called them to stir
their limbs from sleep.
They rubbed refreshing
sleep out of their eyes,
[690]
and
stood up straight there—a marvelous sight,
to see such an orderly
arrangement,
women young and old and
still unmarried girls.
First, they let their hair
loose down their shoulders,
860
tied
up the fawn skins (some had untied the knots
to loosen up the chords).
Then around those skins
they looped some snakes,
who licked the women's cheeks.
Some held young gazelles
or wild wolf cubs
and fed them on their own
white milk, the ones
[700]
who'd
left behind at home a new-born child
whose breasts were still
swollen full of milk.
They draped themselves
with garlands from oak trees,
ivy and flowering yew.
Then one of them,
taking a thyrsus, struck a
rock with it,
870
and
water gushed out, fresh as dew. Another,
using her thyrsus, scraped
the ground. At once,
the god sent fountains of
wine up from the spot.
All those who craved white
milk to drink
just scratched the earth
with their fingertips—
it came out in streams.
From their ivy wands
[710]
thick sweet honey dripped. Oh, if you'd been there,
if you'd seen this, you'd
come with reverence
to that god whom you
criticize so much.
Well, we cattle herders
and shepherds met
880
to
discuss and argue with each other
about the astonishing
things we'd seen.
And then a man who'd been
in town a bit
and had a way with words
said to us all,
"You men who live in
the holy regions
of these mountains, how'd
you like to hunt down
Pentheus' mother, Agave—take
her
[720]
away
from these Bacchic celebrations,
do the king a
favour?" To all of us
he seemed to make good
sense. So we set up
890
an ambush, hiding in the
bushes,
lying down there. At
the appointed time,
the women started their
Bacchic ritual,
brandishing the thyrsus
and calling out
to the god they cry to,
Bromius, Zeus' son.
The entire mountain and
its wild animals
were, like them, in one
Bacchic ecstasy.
As these women moved, they
made all things dance.
Agave, by chance, was
dancing close to me.
Leaving the ambush where
I'd been concealed,
900
I
jumped out, hoping to grab hold of her.
[730]
But
she screamed out, "Oh, my quick hounds,
men are hunting us.
Come, follow me.
Come on, armed with that
thyrsus in your hand."
We ran off, and so escaped
being torn apart.
But then those Bacchic
women, all unarmed,
went at the heifers
browsing on the turf,
using their bare
hands. You should have seen one
ripping a fat, young,
lowing calf apart—
others tearing cows in
pieces with their hands.
910
You
could've seen ribs and cloven hooves
[740]
tossed everywhere—some
hung up in branches
dripping blood and gore.
And bulls, proud beasts till then,
with angry horns,
collapsed there on the ground,
dragged down by the hands
of a thousand girls.
Hides covering their
bodies were stripped off
faster than you could wink
your royal eye.
Then, like birds carried
up by their own speed,
they rushed along the
lower level ground,
beside Asopus' streams,
that fertile land
920
which
yields its crops to Thebes. Like fighting troops,
[750]
they
raided Hysiae and Erythrae,
below rocky Cithaeron,
smashing
everything, snatching
children from their homes.
Whatever they carried
their shoulders,
even bronze or iron, never
tumbled off
onto the dark earth,
though nothing was tied down.
They carried fire in their
hair, but those flames
never singed them.
Some of the villagers,
enraged at being plundered
by the Bacchae,
930
seized
weapons. The sight of what happened next,
[760]
my
lord, was dreadful. For their pointed spears
did not draw blood.
But when those women
threw the thrysoi in their
hands, they wounded them
and drove them back in
flight. The women did this
to men, but not without
some god's assistance.
Then they went back to
where they'd started from,
those fountains which the
god had made for them.
They washed off the blood.
Snakes licked their cheeks,
cleansing their skin of
every drop. My lord,
940
you must welcome this god
into our city,
whoever he is. He's
a mighty god
[770]
in
many other ways. The people say,
so I've heard, he gives to
mortal human beings
that vine which puts an
end to human grief.
Without wine, there's no
more Aphrodite—
or any other pleasure left
for men.
CHORUS
LEADER: I'm afraid to talk freely before the king,
but nonetheless I'll
speak—this Dionysus
is not inferior to any
god.
950
PENTHEUS:
This Dionysian arrogance, like fire,
keeps flaring up close
by—a great insult
to all the Greeks.
We must not hesitate.
[To
one of his armed attendants]
Go
to the Electra Gates. Call out the troops,
[780]
the
heavy infantry, all fast cavalry.
Tell them to muster, along
with all those
who carry shields—all
the archers, too,
the men who pull the
bowstring back by hand.
We'll march out against
these Bacchae.
In this whole business we
will lose control,
960
if
we have to put up with what we've suffered
from these women.
DIONYSUS:
You've heard what I had to say,
Pentheus, but still
you’re not convinced.
Though I'm suffering badly
at your hands,
I say you shouldn't go to
war against a god.
You should stay calm.
Bromius will not let you
[790]
move
his Bacchae from their mountains.
PENTHEUS:
Don't preach to me! You've got out of prison—
enjoy that fact. Or
shall I punish you some more?
DIONYSUS:
I'd sooner make an offering to that god
970
than in some angry fit
kick at his whip—
a mortal going to battle
with a god.
PENTHEUS:
I'll sacrifice all right—with a slaughter
of those women, just as
they deserve—
in the forests on
Cithaeron.
DIONYSUS:
You'll all run.
What a disgrace! To turn
your bronze shields round,
fleeing the thyrsoi of
those Bacchic women!
PENTHEUS:
[turning to one of his armed attendants, as if to go]
It's useless trying to
argue with this stranger—
[800]
whatever
he does or suffers, he won't shut up.
DIONYSUS
[calling Pentheus back]
My lord! There's still
a chance to end this calmly.
980
PENTHEUS:
By doing what? Should I become a slave
to my own slaves?
DIONYSUS:
I'll bring the women here—
without the use of any
weapons.
PENTHEUS:
I don't think so.
You're setting me up for
your tricks again.
DIONYSUS:
What sort of trick, if I want to save you
in my own way?
PENTHEUS:
You've made some arrangement,
you and your god, so you
can always dance
your Bacchanalian orgies.
DIONYSUS:
Yes, that's true.
I have made some
arrangement with the god.
PENTHEUS:
[to one of his armed servants]
You there, bring me my
weapons.
[to
Dionysus]
And you,
990
No
more talk! Keep quiet!
DIONYSUS:
Just a minute!
[810]
[moving
up to Pentheus]
How'd
you like to gaze upon those women out there,
sitting together in the
mountains?
PENTHEUS:
I'd like that.
Yes, for that I'd pay in
gold—and pay a lot.
DIONYSUS:
Why is that? Why do you desire it so much?
PENTHEUS:
I'd be sorry to see the women drunk.
DIONYSUS:
Would you derive pleasure from looking on,
viewing something you find
painful?
PENTHEUS:
Yes, I would—
if I were sitting in the
trees in silence.
DIONYSUS:
But even if you go there secretly,
1000
they'll
track you down.
PENTHEUS:
You're right.
I'll go there openly.
DIONYSUS:
So you're prepared,
are you, to make the trip?
Shall I lead you there?
PENTHEUS: Let's go, and with all speed. I've got time. [820]
DIONYSUS:
In that case, you must clothe your body
in a dress—one made of
eastern linen.
PENTHEUS:
What! I'm not going up there as a man?
I've got to change myself
into a woman?
DIONYSUS:
If they see you as a man, they'll kill you.
PENTHEUS: Right again. You always have the answer. 1010
DIONYSUS:
Dionysus taught me all these things.
PENTHEUS:
How can I best follow your suggestion?
DIONYSUS:
I'll go inside your house and dress you up.
PENTHEUS:
What? Dress up in a female outfit?
I can't do that—I'd be
ashamed to.
DIONYSUS:
You're still keen to see the Maenads, aren't you?
PENTHEUS:
What sort of clothing do you recommend?
How should I cover up my
body?
[830]
DIONYSUS:
I'll fix up a long hair piece for your head.
PENTHEUS: All right. What's the next piece of my outfit? 1020
DIONYSUS:
A dress down to your feet—then a headband,
to fit just here, around
your forehead.
PENTHEUS:
What else? What other things will you provide?
DIONYSUS:
A thyrsus to hold and a dappled fawn skin.
PENTHEUS:
No. I can't dress up in women's clothes!
DIONYSUS:
But if you go fighting with these Bacchae,
you'll cause bloodshed.
PENTHEUS:
Yes, that's true.
So first, we must go up
and spy on them.
DIONYSUS:
Hunt down evil by committing evil—
that sounds like a wise
way to proceed.
1030
PENTHEUS:
But how will I make it through the city
without the Thebans
noticing me?
[840]
DIONYSUS:
We go by deserted streets. I'll take you.
PENTHEUS:
Well, anything's easier to accept
than being made a fool by
Bacchic women.
Let's go into the house.
I'll think about what's best.
DIONYSUS:
As you wish. Whatever you do, I'm ready.
PENTHEUS:
I think I'll go in now. It's a choice
of going with weapons or
taking your advice.
[Exit
Pentheus into the palace. Dionysus turns to face the chorus]
DIONYSUS:
My women! that man's now entangled in our net. 1040
He'll
go to those Bacchae, and there he'll die.
That will be his
punishment. Dionysus,
you're not far away.
Now it's up to you.
Punish him. First,
make sure he goes insane
[850]
with
some crazed fantasy. If his mind is strong,
he'll not agree to put on
women's clothes.
But he'll do it, if you
make him mad.
I want him made the
laughing stock of Thebes,
while I lead him through
the city, mincing
as he moves along in
women's clothing,
1050
after
he made himself so terrifying
with all those earlier
threats. Now I'll be off,
to fit Pentheus into the
costume
he'll wear when he goes
down to Hades,
once he's butchered by his
mother's hands.
He'll come to acknowledge
Dionysus,
son of Zeus, born in full
divinity,
[860]
most
fearful and yet most kind to men.
[Exit
Dionysus]
CHORUS:
Oh, when will I be dancing,
leaping barefoot through
the night,
1060
flinging
back my head in ecstasy,
in the clear, cold,
dew-fresh air—
like a playful fawn
celebrating its green joy
across the meadows—
joy that it's escaped the
fearful hunt—
as she runs beyond the
hunters,
leaping past their woven
nets—
[870]
they call out to their
hounds
to chase her with still
more speed,
1070
but
she strains every limb,
racing like a wind storm,
rejoicing by the river
plain,
in places where no hunters
lurk,
in the green living world
beneath the shady
branches,
the foliage of the trees.
What
is wisdom? What is finer
than the rights men get
from gods—
to hold their powerful
hands
1080
over
the heads of their enemies?
[880]
Ah yes, what's good is
always loved.
The
power of the gods
is difficult to stir—
but it's a power we can
count on.
It punishes all mortal men
who honour their own
ruthless wills,
who, in their fits of
madness,
fail to reverence the
gods.
Gods track down every man
1090
who scorns their worship,
using their cunning to
conceal
the enduring steady pace
of time.
[890]
For there's no
righteousness
in those who recognize or
practice
what's beyond our
customary laws.
The truth is easy to
acknowledge:
whatever is divine is
mighty,
whatever has been
long-established law
is an eternal natural
truth.
1100
What
is wisdom? What is finer
than the rights men get
from gods—
to hold their powerful
hands
over the heads of their
enemies?
[900]
Ah yes, what's good is
always loved.
Whoever
has escaped a storm at sea
is a happy man in harbour,
whoever overcomes great
hardship
is likewise another happy
man.
Various men out-do each
other
1110
in
wealth, in power,
in all sorts of ways.
The hopes of countless men
are infinite in number.
Some make men rich;
some come to nothing.
So I consider that man
blessed
who lives a happy life
[910]
existing
day by day.
[Enter
Dionysus from the palace. He calls back through the open doors]
DIONYSUS:
You who are so desperately eager
1120
to
see those things you should not look upon,
so keen to chase what you
should not pursue—
I mean you, Pentheus, come
out here now,
outside the palace, where
I can see you
dressed up as a raving
Bacchic female,
to spy upon your mother's
company.
[Enter
Pentheus dressed in women's clothing. He moves in a deliberately
over-stated female way, enjoying the role]
DIONYSUS:
[admiringly, as he escorts Pentheus from the doors]
You look just like one of
Cadmus' daughters.
PENTHEUS:
Fancy that! I seem to see two suns,
two images of seven-gated
Thebes.
And you look like a bull
leading me out here, 1130
[920]
with
those horns growing from your head.
Were you once upon a time
a beast?
It's certain now you've
changed into a bull.
DIONYSUS:
The god walks here. He's made a pact with us.
Before his attitude was
not so kind.
Now you're seeing just
what you ought to see.
PENTHEUS:
How do I look? Am I holding myself
just like Ino or my
mother, Agave?
DIONYSUS:
When I look at you, I think I see them.
But here, this strand of
hair is out of place.
1140
It's
not under the headband where I fixed it.
PENTHEUS:
[demonstrating his dancing steps]
I must have worked it
loose inside the house,
[930]
shaking
my head when I moved here and there,
practising my Bacchanalian
dance.
DIONYSUS:
I'll rearrange it for you. It's only right
that I should serve you.
Straighten up your head.
[Dionysus
begins adjusting Pentheus' hair and clothing]
PENTHEUS:
All right then. You can be my dresser,
now that I've transformed
myself for you.
DIONYSUS:
Your girdle's loose. And these pleats in your dress
are crooked, too, down at
your ankle here.
1150
PENTHEUS:
[examining the back of his legs]
Yes, that seems to be
true for my right leg,
but on this side the dress
hangs perfectly,
down the full length of my
limb.
DIONYSUS:
Once you see
those Bacchic women acting
modestly,
once you confront
something you don't expect,
[940]
you'll
consider me your dearest friend.
PENTHEUS:
This thyrsus—should I hold it in my right hand,
or in my left? Which
is more suitable
in Bacchic celebrations?
DIONYSUS:
In your right.
You must lift your right
foot in time with it.
1160
[Dionysus
observes Pentheus trying out the dance step]
DIONYSUS:
Your mind has changed. I applaud you for it.
PENTHEUS:
Will I be powerful enough to carry
the forests of Cithaeron
on my shoulders,
along with all those
Bacchic females?
DIONYSUS:
If you have desire, you'll have the power.
Before this your mind was
not well adjusted.
But now it's working in
you as it should.
PENTHEUS:
Are we going to take some levers with us?
Or shall I rip the forests
up by hand,
putting arm and shoulder
under mountain peaks?
1170 [950]
DIONYSUS:
As long as you don't do away with
those places where the
nymphs all congregate,
where Pan plays his music
on his pipes.
PENTHEUS:
You mention a good point. I'll use no force
to get the better of these
women.
I'll conceal myself there
in the pine trees.
DIONYSUS:
You'll find just the sort of hiding place
a spy should find who
wants to hide himself,
so he can gaze upon the
Maenads.
PENTHEUS:
That's good. I can picture them right now,
1180
in
the woods, going at it like rutting birds,
clutching each other as
they make sweet love.
DIONYSUS:
Perhaps. That's why you're going—as a guard
to stop all that.
Maybe you'll capture them,
[960]
unless you're captured
first.
PENTHEUS:
Lead on—
through the centre of our
land of Thebes.
I'm the only man in all
the city
who dares to undertake
this enterprise.
DIONYSUS:
You bear the city's burden by yourself,
all by yourself. So
your work is waiting there,
1190
the
tasks that have been specially set for you.
Follow me. I'm the
guide who'll rescue you.
When you return someone
else will bring you back.
PENTHEUS:
That will be my mother.
DIONYSUS:
For everyone
you'll have become someone
to celebrate.
PENTHEUS:
That's why I'm going.
DIONYSUS:
You'll be carried back . . .
PENTHEUS:
[interrupting] You're pampering me!
DIONYSUS:
[continuing]
. . . in your mother's arms.
PENTHEUS:
You've really made up your mind to spoil me.
DIONYSUS:
To spoil you? That's true, but in my own way.
PENTHEUS: Then I'll be off to get what I deserve. 1200 [970]
[Exit
Pentheus]
DIONYSUS:
[speaking in the direction Pentheus has gone, but not speaking to him]
You fearful, terrifying
man—on your way
to horrific suffering.
Well, you'll win
a towering fame, as high
as heaven.
Hold out your hand to him,
Agave,
you, too, her sisters,
Cadmus' daughters.
I'm leading this young man
in your direction,
for the great
confrontation, where I'll triumph—
I and Bromius. What
else will happen
events will show, as they
occur.
[Exit
Dionysus]
CHORUS
1: Up now, you hounds of madness,
1210
go
up now into the mountains,
go where Cadmus' daughters
keep their company of
worshippers,
[980]
goad them into furious
revenge
against that man, that
raving spy,
all dressed up in his
women's clothes,
so keen to glimpse the
Maenads.
His mother will see him
first,
as he spies on them in
secret
from some level rock or
crag.
1220
She'll
scream out to her Maenads,
"Who's the man who's
come here,
to the mountains, to these
mountains,
tracking Cadmean mountain
dancers?
Oh my Bacchae, who has
come?
From whom was this man
born?
He's not born of woman's
blood—
he must be some lioness'
whelp
or spawned from Libyan
gorgons."
[990]
CHORUS:
Let justice manifest itself—
1230
let
justice march, sword in hand,
to stab him in the throat,
that godless, lawless man,
unjust earthborn seed of
Echion.
CHORUS
2: Any man intent on wickedness,
turning his unlawful rage
against your rites, O
Bacchus,
against the worship of
your mother,
a man who sets out with an
insane mind,
[1000]
his courage founded on a
falsehood,
1240
who
seeks to overcome by force
what simply can't be
overcome—
let death set his
intentions straight.
For a life devoid of grief
is one
which receives without
complaint
whatever comes down from
the gods—
that's how mortals ought
to live.
Wisdom is something I
don't envy.
My joy comes hunting other
things
lofty and plain to
everyone.
1250
They
lead man's life to good
in purity and reverence,
honouring gods day and
night,
eradicating from our lives
customs lying beyond
what's right.
[1010]
CHORUS:
Let justice manifest itself—
Let justice march, sword
in hand,
to stab him in the throat,
that godless, lawless man,
unjust earthborn seed of
Echion.
1260
CHORUS
3: Appear now to our sight, O Bacchus—
come as a bull or
many-headed serpent
or else some
fire-breathing lion.
Go now, Bacchus, with your
smiling face
[1020]
cast
your deadly noose upon
that hunter of the Bacchae,
as the group of Maenads
brings him down.
[Enter
Second Messenger, one of Pentheus' attendants]
SECOND
MESSENGER: How I grieve for this house, in earlier days
so happy throughout
Greece, home of that old man,
Cadmus from Sidon, who
sowed the fields
1270
to
harvest the earth-born crop produced
from serpent Ophis.
How I now lament—
I know I'm just a slave,
but nonetheless . . .
CHORUS
[They sing or chant their responses to the Messenger]
Do you bring us news?
Has something happened,
something about the
Bacchae?
SECOND MESSENGER: Pentheus, child of Echion, is dead. [1030]
CHORUS:
O my lord Bromius,
Now your divine greatness
is here made manifest!
1280
SECOND
MESSENGER: What are you saying? Why that song?
Women, how can you now
rejoice like this
for the death of one who
was my master?
CHORUS
LEADER: We're strangers here in Thebes,
so we sing out our joy
in chants from foreign
lands.
No longer need we cower
here
in fear of prisoner's
chains.
SECOND
MESSENGER: Do you think Thebes lacks sufficient men
to take care of your
punishment?
1290
CHORUS:
Dionysus, oh Dionysus,
he's the one with power
over me—
not Thebes.
SECOND
MESSENGER: That you may be forgiven, but to cry
aloud with joy when such
disasters come,
women, that's not
something you should so.
[1040]
CHORUS:
Speak to me, tell all—
How did death strike him
down,
that unrighteous man,
that man who acted so
unjustly?
1300
SECOND
MESSENGER: Once we'd left the settlements of Thebes,
we went across the river
Asopus,
then started the climb up
Mount Cithaeron—
Pentheus and myself, I
following the king.
The stranger was our
guide, scouting the way.
First, we sat down in a
grassy meadow,
keeping our feet and
tongues quite silent,
so we could see without
being noticed.
[1050]
There
was a valley there shut in by cliffs.
Through it refreshing
waters flowed, with pines
1310
providing
shade. The Maenads sat there,
their hands all busy with
delightful work—
some of them with ivy
strands repairing
damaged thyrsoi, while
others sang,
chanting Bacchic songs to
one another,
carefree as fillies freed
from harness.
Then Pentheus, that
unhappy man,
not seeing the crowd of
women, spoke up,
"Stranger, I can't
see from where we're standing.
My eyes can't glimpse
those crafty Maenads.
1320
[1060]
But
up there, on that hill, a pine tree stands.
If I climbed that, I might
see those women,
and witness the
disgraceful things they do."
Then I saw that stranger
work a marvel.
He seized that pine tree's
topmost branch—
it stretched up to
heaven—and brought it down,
pulling it to the dark
earth, bending it
as if it were a bow or
some curved wheel
forced into a circle while
staked out with pegs—
that's how the stranger
made that tree bend down,
1330
forcing
the mountain pine to earth by hand,
something no mortal man
could ever do.
He set Pentheus in that
pine tree's branches.
[1070]
Then
his hands released the tree, but slowly,
so it stood up straight,
being very careful
not to shake Pentheus
loose. So that pine
towered straight up to
heaven, with my king
perched on its back.
Maenads could see him there
more easily than he could
spy on them.
As he was just becoming
visible—
1340
the
stranger had completely disappeared—
some voice—I guess it
was Dionysus—
cried out from the sky,
"Young women,
I've brought you the man
who laughed at you,
[1080]
who
ridiculed my rites. Now punish him!"
As he shouted this, a
dreadful fire arose,
blazing between the earth
and heaven.
The air was still. In
the wooded valley
no sound came from the
leaves, and all the beasts
were silent, too.
The women stood up at once.
1350
They'd
heard the voice, but not distinctly.
They gazed around them.
Then again the voice
shouted his commands.
When Cadmus' daughters
clearly heard what
Dionysus ordered,
they rushed out, running
as fast as doves,
[1090]
moving
their feet at an amazing speed.
His mother Agave with both
her sisters
and all the Bacchae
charged straight through
the valley, the torrents,
the mountain cliffs,
pushed to a god-inspired
frenzy. 1360
They saw the king there
sitting in that pine.
First, they scaled a cliff
face looming up
opposite the tree and started
throwing rocks,
trying to hurt him.
Others threw branches,
or hurled their thyrsoi
through the air at him,
sad, miserable Pentheus,
their target.
[1100]
But
they didn't hit him. The poor man
sat high beyond their
frenzied cruelty,
trapped up there, no way
to save his skin.
Then, like lightning, they
struck oak branches down,
1370
trying
them as levers to uproot the tree.
When these attempts all
failed, Agave said,
"Come now, make a
circle round the tree.
Then, Maenads, each of you
must seize a branch,
so we can catch the
climbing beast up there,
stop him making our god's
secret dances known."
Thousands of hands grabbed
the tree and pulled.
They yanked it from the
ground. Pentheus fell,
[1110]
crashing to earth down
from his lofty perch,
screaming in distress.
He knew well enough
1380
something
dreadful was about to happen.
His priestess mother first
began the slaughter.
She hurled herself at him.
Pentheus tore off
his headband, untying it from
his head,
so wretched Agave would
recognize him,
so she wouldn't kill him.
Touching her cheek,
he cried out, "It's me,
mother, Pentheus,
your child. You gave
birth to me at home,
in Echion's house. Pity me,
mother—
[1120]
don't kill your child because I've made mistakes."
1390
But Agave was foaming at the mouth,
eyes rolling in their sockets,
her mind not set
on what she ought to
think—she didn't listen—
she was possessed, in a Bacchic
frenzy.
She seized his left arm, below
the elbow,
pushed her foot against the
poor man's ribs,
then tore his shoulder out.
The strength she had—
it was not her own. The
god put power
into those hands of hers.
Meanwhile Ino,
her sister, went at the other
side,
1400
ripping off chunks of Pentheus' flesh,
while Autonoe and all the
Bacchae,
[1130]
the whole crowd of them, attacked as well,
all of them howling out
together.
As long as Pentheus was still
alive,
he kept on screaming. The women
cried in triumph—
one brandished an arm, another
held a foot—
complete with hunting
boot—the women's nails
tore his ribs apart.
Their hands grew bloody,
tossing bits of his flesh back
and forth, for fun.
1410
His body parts lie scattered everywhere—
some under rough rocks, some in
the forest,
deep in the trees.
They're difficult to find.
As for the poor victim's head,
his mother
[1140]
stumbled on it. Her hands picked it up,
then stuck it on a thyrsus, at
the tip.
Now she carries it around
Cithaeron,
as though it were some wild
lion's head.
She's left her sisters dancing
with the Maenads.
She's coming here, inside these
very walls,
1420
showing off with pride her ill-fated prey,
calling out to her fellow
hunter, Bacchus,
her companion in the chase, the
winner,
the glorious victor. By
serving him,
in her great triumph she wins
only tears.
As for me, I'm leaving this
disaster,
before Agave gets back home
again.
The best thing is to keep one's
mind controlled,
[1150]
and worship all that comes down from the gods.
That, in my view, is the wisest
custom,
1430
for those who can conduct their lives that way.
[Exit
Messenger]
CHORUS:
Let's dance to honour Bacchus,
Let's shout to celebrate
what's happened here,
happened to Pentheus,
child of the serpent,
who put on women's
clothes,
who took up the beautiful
and blessed thyrsus—
his certain death,
disaster brought on by
the bull.
You Bacchic women
1440
[1160]
descended from old Cadmus,
you've won glorious
victory,
one which ends in tears,
which ends in
lamentation.
A noble undertaking this,
to drench one's hands in
blood,
life blood dripping from
one's only son.
CHORUS
LEADER: Wait! I see Agave, Pentheus' mother,
on her way home, her eyes
transfixed.
Let's now welcome
her,
1450
the happy revels of our god of joy!
[Enter
Agave, cradling the head of Pentheus]
AGAVE:
Asian Bacchae . . .
CHORUS:
Why do you appeal to me?
AGAVE:
[displaying the head] From the mountains I've brought home
[1170]
this ivy tendril freshly cut.
We've had a blessed hunt.
CHORUS:
I see it.
As your fellow dancer,
I'll accept it.
AGAVE:
I caught this young lion without a trap,
as you can see.
CHORUS:
What desert was he in?
AGAVE:
Cithaeron.
CHORUS:
On Cithaeron?
AGAVE:
Cithaeron killed him.
CHORUS: Who struck him down? 1460
AGAVE:
The honour of the first blow goes to me.
In the dancing I'm called
blessed Agave.
[1180]
CHORUS:
Who else?
AGAVE:
Well, from Cadmus . . .
CHORUS:
From Cadmus what?
AGAVE:
His other children laid hands on the beast,
but after me—only after
I did first.
We've had good hunting.
So come, share our feast.
CHORUS:
What? You want me to eat that with you?
Oh you unhappy woman.
AGAVE:
This is a young bull. Look at this cheek
It's just growing downy
under the crop
1470
of his soft hair.
CHORUS:
His hair makes him resemble
some wild beast.
AGAVE:
Bacchus is a clever huntsman—
[1190]
he wisely set his Maenads on this beast.
CHORUS:
Yes, our master is indeed a hunter.
AGAVE:
Have you any praise for me?
CHORUS:
I praise you.
AGAVE:
Soon all Cadmus' people. . .
CHORUS:
. . . and Pentheus, your son, as well.
AGAVE:
. . . will celebrate his mother, who caught the beast,
just like a lion.
CHORUS:
It's a strange trophy.
AGAVE:
And strangely captured, too.
CHORUS:
You're proud of what you've done?
AGAVE:
Yes, I'm delighted. Great things I've done—
1480
great things on this
hunt, clear for all to see.
CHORUS:
Well then, you most unfortunate woman,
[1200]
show off your hunting
prize, your sign of victory,
to all the citizens.
AGAVE: [addressing
everyone] All of
you here,
all you living in the
land of Thebes,
in this city with its
splendid walls,
come see this wild beast
we hunted down—
daughters of Cadmus—not
with thonged spears,
Thessalian javelins, or
by using nets,
but with our own white
hands, our finger tips.
1490
After this, why should huntsmen boast aloud,
when no one needs the
implements they use?
We caught this beast by
hand, tore it apart—
[1210]
with our own hands. But where's my father?
He should come here.
And where's Pentheus?
Where is my son? He
should take a ladder,
set it against the house,
fix this lion's head
way up there, high on the
palace front.
I've captured it and
brought it home with me.
[Enter
Cadmus and attendants, carrying parts of Pentheus' body]
CADMUS:
Follow me, all those of you who carry
1500
some part of wretched Pentheus. You slaves,
come here, right by the
house.
[They
place the bits of Pentheus' body together in a chest front of the palace]
I'm worn out.
So many searches—but I picked
up the body.
I came across it in the
rocky clefts
on Mount Cithaeron,
ripped to pieces,
[1220]
no parts lying together
in one place.
It was in the
woods—difficult to search.
Someone told me what my
daughter'd done,
those horrific acts, once
I'd come back,
returning here with old
Tiresias,
1510
inside the city walls, back from the Bacchae.
So I climbed the
mountains once again.
Now I bring home this
child the Maenads killed.
I saw Autonoe, who once
bore
Actaeon to Aristeius—and
Ino,
she was with her there,
in the forest,
both still possessed,
quite mad, poor creatures.
Someone said Agave was
coming here,
[1230]
still doing her Bacchic dance. He spoke the truth,
for I see her
there—what a wretched sight! 1520
AGAVE:
Father, now you can be truly proud.
Among all living men
you've produced
by far the finest
daughters. I'm talking
of all of us, but
especially of myself.
I've left behind my
shuttle and my loom,
and risen to great
things, catching wild beasts
with my bare hands.
Now I've captured him,
I'm holding in my arms
the finest trophy,
as you can see, bringing
it back home to you,
so it may hang here.
[offering him Pentheus' head]
Take this, father 1530 [1240]
let your hands welcome it. Be proud of it,
of what I've caught.
Summon all your friends—
have a banquet, for you
are blessed indeed,
blessed your daughters
have achieved these things.
CADMUS:
This grief's beyond measure, beyond endurance.
With these hands of yours
you've murdered him.
You strike down this
sacrificial victim,
this offering to the
gods, then invite me,
and all of Thebes, to
share a banquet.
Alas—first for your
sorrow, then my own.
1540
Lord god Bromius, born into this family,
has destroyed us, acting
out his justice,
[1250]
but too much so.
AGAVE:
Why such scowling eyes?
How sorrowful and solemn
old men become.
As for my son, I hope
he's a fine hunter,
who copies his mother's
hunting style,
when he rides out with
young men of Thebes
chasing after creatures
in the wild.
The only thing he seems
capable of doing
is fighting with the
gods. It's up to you,
1550
father, to reprimand him for it.
Who'll call him here into
my sight,
so he can see my good
luck for himself?
CADMUS:
Alas! Alas! What dreadful pain you'll feel
when you recognize what
you've just done.
[1260]
If you stay forever in your present state,
you'll be unfortunate,
but you won't feel
as if you're suffering
unhappiness.
AGAVE:
But what in all this is wrong or painful?
CADMUS: First, raise your eyes. Look up into the sky. 1560
AGAVE:
All right. But why tell me to look up there?
CADMUS:
Does the sky still seem the same to you,
or has it changed?
AGAVE:
It seems, well, brighter . . .
more translucent than it
was before.
CADMUS:
And your inner spirit—is it still shaking?
AGAVE:
I don't understand what it is you're asking.
But my mind is starting
to clear somehow.
It's changing . . . it's
not what it was before.
[1270]
CADMUS:
Can you hear me? Can you answer clearly?
AGAVE:
Yes. But, father, what we discussed before, 1570
I've quite forgotten.
CADMUS:
Then tell me this—
to whose house did you
come when you got married?
AGAVE:
You gave me to Echion, who, men say,
was one of those who grew
from seeds you cast.
CADMUS:
In that house you bore your husband a child.
What was his name?
AGAVE:
His name was Pentheus.
I conceived him with his
father.
CADMUS:
Well then,
this head your hands are
holding—whose is it?
AGAVE:
It's a lion's. That's what the hunters said.
CADMUS:
Inspect it carefully. You can do that
1580
without much effort.
AGAVE:
[inspecting the head]
What is this?
What am I looking at?
What am I holding?
[1280]
CADMUS:
Look at it. You'll understand more clearly.
AGAVE:
What I see fills me with horrific pain . . .
such agony . . .
CADMUS:
Does it still seem to you
to be a lion's head?
AGAVE:
No. It's appalling—
this head I'm holding
belongs to Pentheus.
CADMUS:
Yes, that's right. I was lamenting his fate
before you recognized
him.
AGAVE:
Who killed him?
How did he come into my
hands?
CADMUS:
Harsh truth—
1590
how you come to light at the wrong moment.
AGAVE:
Tell me. My heart is pounding in me
to hear what you're about
to say.
CADMUS:
You killed him—
you and your sisters.
AGAVE:
Where was he killed?
At home? In what
sort of place?
[1290]
CADMUS:
He was killed
where dogs once made a
common meal of Actaeon.
AGAVE:
Why did this poor man go to Cithaeron?
CADMUS:
He went there to ridicule the god
and you for celebrating
Dionysus.
AGAVE:
But how did we happen to be up there?
CADMUS:
You were insane—the entire city
1600
was in a Bacchic madness.
AGAVE:
Now I see.
Dionysus has destroyed us
all.
CADMUS:
He took offense at being insulted.
You did not consider him
a god.
AGAVE:
Father, where's the body of my dearest son?
CADMUS:
I had trouble tracking the body down.
I brought back what I
found.
AGAVE:
Are all his limbs laid out
just as they should be?
And Pentheus,
[1300]
what part did he play in my madness?
CADMUS:
Like you, he was irreverent to the god.
1610
That's why the god linked you and him together
in the same
disaster—thus destroying
the house and me, for
I've no children left,
now I see this offspring
of your womb,
you unhappy woman,
cruelly butchered
in the most shameful way.
He was the one
who brought new vision to
our family.
[Addressing the remains of Pentheus]
My child, you upheld the honour of our house,
my daughter's son.
You were feared in Thebes.
[1310]
No one who saw you ever
would insult me,
1620
though I was old, for you would then inflict
fit punishment. Now
the mighty Cadmus,
the man who sowed and
later harvested
the most splendid
crop—the Theban people—
will be an exile,
banished from his home,
a dishonoured man.
Dearest of men,
even though, my child,
you're alive no more,
I count you among those
closest to me.
You won't be touching my
cheek any more,
holding me in your arms,
and calling me
1630
"grandfather," as you ask me, "Old man,
who's injuring or
dishonouring you?
[1320]
Who upsets your heart with any pain?
Tell me, father, so I can
punish him—
anyone who treats you in
an unjust way."
Now you're in this
horrifying state,
I'm in misery, your
mother's pitiful,
and all your relatives
are in despair.
If there's a man who
disrespects the gods,
let him think about how
this man perished—
1640
then he should develop faith in them.
CHORUS
LEADER: I'm sorry for you Cadmus—you're in pain.
But your grandson
deserved his punishment.
AGAVE:
Father, you see how all has changed for me.
[From being your royal and
honoured daughter,
the mother of a king, I'm
now transformed—
an abomination, something
to fill
all people's hearts with
horror, with disgust—
the mother who slaughtered
her only son,
who tore him apart,
ripping out the heart
1650
from
the child who filled her own heart with joy—
all to honour this god
Dionysus.
But, father, give me
your permission now
to lay out here the body
of my son,
prepare his corpse for
proper burial.
CADMUS:
That's no easy task to undertake.
His body, all the parts I
could collect,
lies here, in this chest,
not a pretty sight.
My own eyes can hardly
bear to see him.
But if you think you can
endure the work,
1660
then,
my child, begin the appropriate rites.
AGAVE:
[removing Pentheus' limbs and placing them on the ground in front of her]
Alas, for my poor son, my
only child,
destroyed by his mother's
Bacchic madness.
How could these hands of
mine, which loved him so,
have torn these limbs
apart, ripped out his flesh.
Here's an arm which has
held me all these years,
growing stronger as he
grew into a man,
his feet . . . oh, how he
used to run to me,
seeking assurance of his
mother's love.
His face was handsome, on
the verge of manhood.
1670
See
the soft down still resting on these lips,
which have kissed me
thousands of times or more.
All this, and all the
rest, set here before us.
Oh Zeus and all you
Olympian gods . . . .
[She
cannot complete the ritual and collapses in grief]
It
makes no sense—it's unendurable.
How could the god have
wished such things on me?
CHORUS
LEADER [helping Agave get up]
Lady, you must bear what
cannot be borne.
Your suffering is intense,
but the god is just.
You insulted him in
Thebes, showed no respect—
you've brought the
punishment upon yourself.
1680
CHORUS:
What is wisdom? What is finer
than the rights men get
from gods—
to hold their powerful
hands
over the heads of their
enemies?
Ah yes, what's good is
always loved.
So all praise Dionysus,
praise the dancing god,
god of our revelry,
god whose justice is
divine,
whose justice now reveals
itself.
1690
[Enter
Dionysus]
DIONYSUS:
Yes, I am Dionysus, son of Zeus.
You see me now before you
as a god.
You Thebans learned about
my powers too late.
Dishonouring me, you earn
the penalty.
You refused my rites.
Now you must leave—
abandon your city for
barbarian lands.
Agave, too, that polluted
creature,
must go into perpetual
banishment.
And Cadmus, you too must
endure your lot.]
Your form will change, so
you become a dragon.
1700
[1330]
Your wife, Harmonia, Ares' daughter,
whom you, though mortal,
took in marriage,
will be transformed,
changing to a snake.
As Zeus' oracle declares,
you and she
will drive a chariot
drawn by heifers.
You'll rule barbarians.
With your armies,
too large to count,
you'll raze many cities.
Once they despoil
Apollo's oracle,
they'll have a painful
journey back again.
But Ares will guard you
and Harmonia.
1710
In lands of the blessed he'll transform your lives.
That's what I
proclaim—I, Dionysus,
[1340]
born from no mortal father, but from Zeus.
If you had understood how
to behave
as you should have when
you were unwilling,
you'd now be fortunate,
with Zeus' child
among your allies.
CADMUS:
O Dionysus,
we implore you—we've
not acted justly.
DIONYSUS:
You learn too late. You were ignorant
when you should have
known.
CADMUS:
Now we understand.
1720
Your actions against us
are too severe.
DIONYSUS:
I was born a god, and you insulted me.
CADMUS:
Angry gods should not act just like humans.
DIONYSUS:
My father Zeus willed all this long ago.
AGAVE:
Alas, old man, then this must be our fate,
[1350]
a miserable exile.
DIONYSUS:
Why then delay?
Why postpone what
necessity requires?
CADMUS:
Child, we've stumbled into this disaster,
this terrible
calamity—you and me,
both in agony—your
sisters, too.
1730
So I'll go out to the barbarians,
a foreign resident in my
old age.
And then for me there's
that oracle
which says I'll lead a
mixed barbarian force
back into Greece.
And I'll bring here with me
Harmonia, Ares' daughter,
my wife.
I'll have the savage
nature of a snake,
as I lead my soldiers to
the altars,
to the tombs, in Greece.
But even then,
there'll be no end to my
wretched sorrows. 1740
[1360]
I'll never sail the downward plunging Acheron
and reach some final
peace.
AGAVE:
[embracing Cadmus] Father, I must be exiled without you.
CADMUS:
Why do you throw your arms about me,
my unhappy child, just
like some young swan
protecting an old
one—gray and helpless.
AGAVE:
Because I've no idea where to go,
once I'm banished from my
father's land.
CADMUS:
Child, I don't know. Your father's not much help.
AGAVE:
Farewell, then, to my home.
1750
Farewell to my native city.
In my misfortune I
abandon you,
an exile from spaces once
my own.
[1370]
CADMUS:
Go now to Aristeus' house, my child.
AGAVE:
How I grieve for you, my father.
CADMUS:
And I grieve for you, my child,
as I weep for your
sisters.
AGAVE:
Lord Dionysus has inflicted
such brutal terror on
your house.
DIONYSUS:
Yes. For at your hands I suffered, too—
1760
and dreadfully. For
here in Thebes
my name received no
recognition.
AGAVE:
Farewell, father.
CADMUS:
My most unhappy daughter,
may you fare well. That
will be hard for you.
[1380]
AGAVE:
Lead on, friends, so I may take my sisters,
those pitiful women, into
exile with me.
May I go somewhere where
cursed Cithaeron
will never see me, nor my
eyes glimpse
that dreadful mountain, a
place far away
from any sacred thyrsus.
Let others
1770
make Bacchic celebrations
their concern.
[Exit
Agave]
CHORUS:
The gods appear in many forms,
carrying with them
unwelcome things.
What people thought would
happen never did.
What they did not expect,
the gods made happen.
That's what this story
has revealed.
[Exeunt Chorus and Cadmus, leaving on stage the remains of Pentheus' body]
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