DIONYSUS

Whate’er he would: it was not mine to choose.

PENTHEUS

Cleverly blinked our question with no answer.

DIONYSUS

Who wiseliest speaks, to the fool speaks foolishness.

PENTHEUS

And hither com’st thou first with thy new god!

DIONYSUS

There’s no Barbarian but adores these rites.

PENTHEUS

Being much less wise than we Hellenians.

DIONYSUS

In this more wise. Their customs differ much.

PENTHEUS

Performest thou these rites by night or day?

DIONYSUS

Most part by night — night hath more solemn awe.

PENTHEUS

A crafty rotten plot to catch our women.

DIONYSUS

Even in the day bad men can do bad deeds.

PENTHEUS

Thou of thy wiles shalt pay the penalty.

DIONYSUS

Thou of thine ignorance — impious towards the gods!

PENTHEUS

He’s bold, this Bacchus — ready enough in words.

DIONYSUS

What penalty? what evil wilt thou do me?

PENTHEUS

First will I clip away those soft bright locks.

DIONYSUS

My locks are holy, dedicate to my god.

PENTHEUS

Next, give thou me that thyrsus in thine hand.

DIONYSUS

Take it thyself; ’tis Dionysus’ wand.

PENTHEUS

I’ll bind thy body in strong iron chains.

DIONYSUS

My god himself will loose them when he will.

PENTHEUS

When thou invok’st him ’mid thy Bacchanals.

DIONYSUS

Even now he is present; he beholds me now.

PENTHEUS

Where is he then? Mine eyes perceive him not.

DIONYSUS

Near me: the impious eyes may not discern him.

PENTHEUS

Seize on him, for he doth insult our Thebes.

DIONYSUS

I warn thee, bind me not; the insane, the sane.

PENTHEUS

I, stronger than thou art, say I will bind thee.

DIONYSUS

Thou know’st not where thou art, or what thou art.

PENTHEUS

Pentheus, Agave’s son, my sire Echion.

DIONYSUS

Thou hast a name whose very sound is woe.

PENTHEUS

Away, go bind him in our royal stable,

That he may sit in midnight gloom profound

There lead thy dance! But those thou hast hither led,

Thy guilt’s accomplices, we’ll sell for slaves;

Or, silencing their noise and beating drums,

As handmaids to the distaff set them down.

DIONYSUS

Away then! ’Tis not well I bear such wrong;

The vengeance for this outrage he will wreak

Whose being thou deniest, Dionysus:

Outraging me, ye bind him in your chains.

CHORUS

Holy virgin-haunted water

Ancient Achelous’ daughter!

Dirce! in thy crystal wave

Thou the child of Jove didst lave.

Thou, when Zeus, his awful sire,

Snatched him from the immortal fire;

And locked him up within his thigh,

With a loud but gentle cry —

“Come, my Dithyrambus, come,

Enter thou the masculine womb!”

Lo! to Thebes I thus proclaim,

“Twice born!” thus thy mystic name.

Blessed Dirce! dost thou well

From thy green marge to repel

Me, and all my jocund round,

With their ivy garlands crowned.

Why dost fly me?

Why deny me?

By all the joys of wine I swear,

Bromius still shall be my care.

Oh, what pride! pride unforgiven

Manifests, against high heaven

Th’ earth-born, whom in mortal birth

’Gat Echion, son of earth;