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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