Olympus’ summit hoar and high —

Thou revel-loving deity!

For there are all the graces,

And sweet desire is there,

And to those hallowed places

To lawful rites the Bacchanals repair.

The deity, the son of Jove,

The banquet is his joy,

Peace, the wealth-giver, doth he love,

That nurse of many a noble boy.

Not the rich man’s sole possessing;

To the poor the painless blessing

Gives he of the wine-cup bright.

Him he hates, who day and night,

Gentle night, and gladsome day,

Cares not thus to while away.

Be thou wisely unsevere!

Shun the stern and the austere!

Follow the multitude;

Their usage still pursue!

Their homely wisdom rude

(Such is my sentence) is both right and true.

OFFICER

Pentheus, we are here! In vain we went not forth:

The prey which thou commandest we have taken.

Gentle our quarry met us, nor turned back

His foot in flight, but held out both his hands;

Became not pale, changed not his ruddy colour.

Smiling he bade us bind, and lead him off,

Stood still, and made our work a work of ease.

Reverent I said, “Stranger, I arrest thee not

Of mine own will, but by the king’s command.”

But all the Bacchanals, whom thou hast seized

And bound in chains within the public prison,

All now have disappeared, released they are leaping

In their wild orgies, hymning the god Bacchus.

Spontaneous fell the chains from off their feet;

The bolts drew back untouched by mortal hand.

In truth this man, with many wonders rife

Comes to our Thebes. ’Tis thine t’ ordain the rest.

PENTHEUS

Bind fast his hands! Thus in his manacles

Sharp must he be indeed to ’scape us now.

There’s beauty, stranger — woman-witching beauty

(Therefore thou art in Thebes) — in thy soft form;

Thy fine bright hair, not coarse like the hard athlete’s,

Is mantling o’er thy cheek warm with desire;

And carefully thou hast cherished thy white skin;

Not in the sun’s swart beams, but in cool shade,

Wooing soft Aphrodite with thy loveliness.

But tell me first, from whence hath sprung thy race?

DIONYSUS

There needs no boast; ’tis easy to tell this:

All flowery Tmolus hast thou haply heard?

PENTHEUS

Yea; that which girds around the Sardian city.

DIONYSUS

Thence am I come, my country Lydia.

PENTHEUS

Whence unto Hellas bringest thou thine orgies?

DIONYSUS

Dionysus, son of Jove, hath hallowed them.

PENTHEUS

Is there a Jove then, that begets new gods?

DIONYSUS

No, it was here he wedded Semele.

PENTHEUS

Hallowed he them by night, or in the eye of day?

DIONYSUS

In open vision he revealed his orgies.

PENTHEUS

And what, then, is thine orgies’ solemn form;

DIONYSUS

That is not uttered to the uninitiate.

PENTHEUS

What profit, then, is theirs who worship him?

DIONYSUS

Thou mayst not know, though precious were that knowledge.

PENTHEUS

A cunning tale, to make me long to hear thee.

DIONYSUS

The orgies of our god scorn impious worshippers.

PENTHEUS

Thou saw’st the manifest god! What was his form?