_Some Maidens_
Achelous' roaming daughter,
Holy Dircê, virgin water,
Bathed he not of old in thee,
The Babe of God, the Mystery?
When from out the fire immortal
To himself his God did take him,
To his own flesh, and bespake him:
"Enter now life's second portal,
Motherless Mystery; lo, I break
Mine own body for thy sake,
Thou of the Twofold Door, and seal thee
Mine, O Bromios,"--thus he spake--
"And to this thy land reveal thee."
_All_
Still my prayer toward thee quivers,
Dircê, still to thee I hie me;
Why, O Blessed among Rivers,
Wilt thou fly me and deny me?
By His own joy I vow,
By the grape upon the bough,
Thou shalt seek Him in the midnight, thou shalt love Him, even now!
_Other Maidens_
Dark and of the dark impassioned
Is this Pentheus' blood; yea, fashioned
Of the Dragon, and his birth
From Echion, child of Earth.
He is no man, but a wonder;
Did the Earth-Child not beget him,
As a red Giant, to set him
Against God, against the Thunder?
He will bind me for his prize,
Me, the Bride of Dionyse;
And my priest, my friend, is taken
Even now, and buried lies;
In the dark he lies forsaken!
_All_
Lo, we race with death, we perish,
Dionysus, here before thee!
Dost thou mark us not, nor cherish,
Who implore thee, and adore thee?
Hither down Olympus' side,
Come, O Holy One defied,
Be thy golden wand uplifted o'er the tyrant in his pride!
_A Maiden_
Oh, where art thou? In thine own
Nysa, thou our help alone?
O'er fierce beasts in orient lands
Doth thy thronging thyrsus wave,
By the high Corycian Cave,
Or where stern Olympus stands;
In the elm-woods and the oaken,
There where Orpheus harped of old,
And the trees awoke and knew him,
And the wild things gathered to him,
As he sang amid the broken
Glens his music manifold?
Dionysus loveth thee;
Blessed Land of Piërie,
He will come to thee with dancing,
Come with joy and mystery;
With the Maenads at his hest
Winding, winding to the West;
Cross the flood of swiftly glancing
Axios in majesty;
Cross the Lydias, the giver
Of good gifts and waving green;
Cross that Father-Stream of story,
Through a land of steeds and glory
Rolling, bravest, fairest River
E'er of mortals seen!
A VOICE WITHIN
Io! Io!
Awake, ye damsels; hear my cry,
Calling my Chosen; hearken ye!
A MAIDEN
Who speaketh? Oh, what echoes thus?
ANOTHER
A Voice, a Voice, that calleth us!
THE VOICE
Be of good cheer! Lo, it is I,
The Child of Zeus and Semelê.
A MAIDEN
O Master, Master, it is Thou!
ANOTHER
O Holy Voice, be with us now!
THE VOICE
Spirit of the Chained Earthquake,
Hear my word; awake, awake!
[_An Earthquake suddenly shakes the pillars of the Castle._]
A MAIDEN
Ha! what is coming? Shall the hall
Of Pentheus racked in ruin fall?
LEADER
Our God is in the house! Ye maids adore Him!
CHORUS
We adore Him all!
THE VOICE
Unveil the Lightning's eye; arouse
The fire that sleeps, against this house!
[_Fire leaps upon the Tomb of Semelê._]
A MAIDEN
Ah, saw ye, marked ye there the flame
From Semelê's enhallowed sod
Awakened? Yea, the Death that came
Ablaze from heaven of old, the same
Hot splendour of the shaft of God?
LEADER
Oh cast ye, cast ye, to the earth! The Lord
Cometh against this house! Oh, cast ye down,
Ye trembling damsels; He, our own adored,
God's Child hath come, and all is overthrown!
[_The Maidens cast themselves upon the ground, their eyes earthward._
DIONYSUS, _alone and unbound, enters from the Castle._]
DIONYSUS
Ye Damsels of the Morning Hills, why lie ye thus dismayed?
Ye marked him, then, our Master, and the mighty hand he laid
On tower and rock, shaking the house of Pentheus?--But arise,
And cast the trembling from your flesh, and lift untroubled eyes.
LEADER
O Light in Darkness, is it thou? O Priest, is this thy face?
My heart leaps out to greet thee from the deep of loneliness.
DIONYSUS
Fell ye so quick despairing, when beneath the Gate I passed?
Should the gates of Pentheus quell me, or his darkness make me fast?
LEADER
Oh, what was left if thou wert gone? What could I but despair?
How hast thou 'scaped the man of sin? Who freed thee from the snare?
DIONYSUS
I had no pain nor peril; 'twas mine own hand set me free.
LEADER
Thine arms were gyvèd!
DIONYSUS
Nay, no gyve, no touch, was laid on me!
'Twas there I mocked him, in his gyves, and gave him dreams for food.
For when he laid me down, behold, before the stall there stood
A Bull of Offering. And this King, he bit his lips and straight
Fell on and bound it, hoof and limb, with gasping wrath and sweat.
And I sat watching!--Then a Voice; and lo, our Lord was come,
And the house shook, and a great flame stood o'er his mother's tomb.
And Pentheus hied this way and that, and called his thralls amain
For water, lest his roof-tree burn; and all toiled, all in vain.
Then deemed a-sudden I was gone; and left his fire, and sped
Back to the prison portals, and his lifted sword shone red.
But there, methinks, the God had wrought--I speak but as I guess--
Some dream-shape in mine image; for he smote at emptiness,
Stabbed in the air, and strove in wrath, as though 'twere me he slew.
Then 'mid his dreams God smote him yet again! He overthrew
All that high house. And there in wreck for evermore it lies,
That the day of this my bondage may be sore in Pentheus' eyes!
And now his sword is fallen, and he lies outworn and wan
Who dared to rise against his God in wrath, being but man.
And I uprose and left him, and in all peace took my path
Force to my Chosen, recking light of Pentheus and his wrath.
But soft, methinks a footstep sounds even now within the hall;
'Tis he; how think ye he will stand, and what words speak withal?
I will endure him gently, though he come in fury hot.
For still are the ways of Wisdom, and her temper trembleth not!
[_Enter_ PENTHEUS _in fury_]
PENTHEUS
It is too much! This Eastern knave hath slipped
His prison, whom I held but now, hard gripped
In bondage.--Ha! 'Tis he!--What, sirrah, how
Show'st thou before my portals?
[_He advances furiously upon him._]
DIONYSUS
And set a quiet carriage to thy rage.
PENTHEUS
How comest thou here? How didst thou break thy cage?
Speak!
DIONYSUS
Said I not, or didst thou mark not me,
There was One living that should set me free?
PENTHEUS
Who? Ever wilder are these tales of thine.
DIONYSUS
He who first made for man the clustered vine.
PENTHEUS
I scorn him and his vines.
DIONYSUS
For Dionyse
'Tis well; for in thy scorn his glory lies.
PENTHEUS (_to his guard_)
Go swift to all the towers, and bar withal
Each gate!
DIONYSUS
What, cannot God o'erleap a wall?
PENTHEUS
Oh, wit thou hast, save where thou needest it!
DIONYSUS
Whereso it most imports, there is my wit!--
Nay, peace! Abide till he who hasteth from
The mountain side with news for thee, be come.
We will not fly, but wait on thy command.
[_Enter suddenly and in haste a Messenger from the Mountain._]
MESSENGER
Great Pentheus, Lord of all this Theban land,
I come from high Kithaeron, where the frore
Snow spangles gleam and cease not evermore....
PENTHEUS
And what of import may thy coming bring?
MESSENGER
I have seen the Wild White Women there, O King,
Whose fleet limbs darted arrow-like but now
From Thebes away, and come to tell thee how
They work strange deeds and passing marvel. Yet
I first would learn thy pleasure. Shall I set
My whole tale forth, or veil the stranger part?
Yea Lord, I fear the swiftness of thy heart,
Thine edgèd wrath and more than royal soul.
PENTHEUS
Thy tale shall nothing scathe thee.--Tell the whole.
It skills not to be wroth with honesty.
Nay, if thy news of them be dark, 'tis he
Shall pay it, who bewitched and led them on.
MESSENGER
Our herded kine were moving in the dawn
Up to the peaks, the greyest, coldest time,
When the first rays steal earthward, and the rime
Yields, when I saw three bands of them. The one
Autonoë led, one Ino, one thine own
Mother, Agâvê. There beneath the trees
Sleeping they lay, like wild things flung at ease
In the forest; one half sinking on a bed
Of deep pine greenery; one with careless head
Amid the fallen oak leaves; all most cold
In purity--not as thy tale was told
Of wine-cups and wild music and the chase
For love amid the forest's loneliness.
Then rose the Queen Agâvê suddenly
Amid her band, and gave the God's wild cry,
"Awake, ye Bacchanals! I hear the sound
Of hornèd kine. Awake ye!"--Then, all round,
Alert, the warm sleep fallen from their eyes,
A marvel of swift ranks I saw them rise,
Dames young and old, and gentle maids unwed
Among them. O'er their shoulders first they shed
Their tresses, and caught up the fallen fold
Of mantles where some clasp had loosened hold,
And girt the dappled fawn-skins in with long
Quick snakes that hissed and writhed with quivering tongue.
And one a young fawn held, and one a wild
Wolf cub, and fed them with white milk, and smiled
In love, young mothers with a mother's breast
And babes at home forgotten! Then they pressed
Wreathed ivy round their brows, and oaken sprays
And flowering bryony. And one would raise
Her wand and smite the rock, and straight a jet
Of quick bright water came. Another set
Her thyrsus in the bosomed earth, and there
Was red wine that the God sent up to her,
A darkling fountain. And if any lips
Sought whiter draughts, with dipping finger-tips
They pressed the sod, and gushing from the ground
Came springs of milk. And reed-wands ivy-crowned
Ran with sweet honey, drop by drop.--O King,
Hadst thou been there, as I, and seen this thing,
With prayer and most high wonder hadst thou gone
To adore this God whom now thou rail'st upon!
Howbeit, the kine-wardens and shepherds straight
Came to one place, amazed, and held debate;
And one being there who walked the streets and scanned
The ways of speech, took lead of them whose hand
Knew but the slow soil and the solemn hill,
And flattering spoke, and asked: "Is it your will,
Masters, we stay the mother of the King,
Agâvê, from her lawless worshipping,
And win us royal thanks?"--And this seemed good
To all; and through the branching underwood
We hid us, cowering in the leaves. And there
Through the appointed hour they made their prayer
And worship of the Wand, with one accord
Of heart and cry--"Iacchos, Bromios, Lord,
God of God born!"--And all the mountain felt,
And worshipped with them; and the wild things knelt
And ramped and gloried, and the wilderness
Was filled with moving voices and dim stress.
Soon, as it chanced, beside my thicket-close
The Queen herself passed dancing, and I rose
And sprang to seize her. But she turned her face
Upon me: "Ho, my rovers of the chase,
My wild White Hounds, we are hunted! Up, each rod
And follow, follow, for our Lord and God!"
Thereat, for fear they tear us, all we fled
Amazed; and on, with hand unweaponèd
They swept toward our herds that browsed the green
Hill grass. Great uddered kine then hadst thou seen
Bellowing in sword-like hands that cleave and tear,
A live steer riven asunder, and the air
Tossed with rent ribs or limbs of cloven tread,
And flesh upon the branches, and a red
Rain from the deep green pines. Yea, bulls of pride,
Horns swift to rage, were fronted and aside
Flung stumbling, by those multitudinous hands
Dragged pitilessly. And swifter were the bands
Of garbèd flesh and bone unbound withal
Than on thy royal eyes the lids may fall.
Then on like birds, by their own speed upborne,
They swept toward the plains of waving corn
That lie beside Asopus' banks, and bring
To Thebes the rich fruit of her harvesting.
On Hysiae and Erythrae that lie nursed
Amid Kithaeron's bowering rocks, they burst
Destroying, as a foeman's army comes.
They caught up little children from their homes,
High on their shoulders, babes unheld, that swayed
And laughed and fell not; all a wreck they made;
Yea, bronze and iron did shatter, and in play
Struck hither and thither, yet no wound had they;
Caught fire from out the hearths, yea, carried hot
Flames in their tresses and were scorchèd not!
The village folk in wrath took spear and sword,
And turned upon the Bacchae. Then, dread Lord,
The wonder was. For spear nor barbèd brand
Could scathe nor touch the damsels; but the Wand,
The soft and wreathèd wand their white hands sped,
Blasted those men and quelled them, and they fled
Dizzily. Sure some God was in these things!
And the holy women back to those strange springs
Returned, that God had sent them when the day
Dawned, on the upper heights; and washed away
The stain of battle. And those girdling snakes
Hissed out to lap the waterdrops from cheeks
And hair and breast.
Therefore I counsel thee
O King, receive this Spirit, whoe'er he be,
To Thebes in glory. Greatness manifold
Is all about him; and the tale is told
That this is he who first to man did give
The grief-assuaging vine. Oh, let him live;
For if he die, then Love herself is slain,
And nothing joyous in the world again!
LEADER
Albeit I tremble, and scarce may speak my thought
To a king's face, yet will I hide it not.
Dionyse is God, no God more true nor higher!
PENTHEUS
It bursts hard by us, like a smothered fire,
This frenzy of Bacchic women! All my land
Is made their mock.--This needs an iron hand!
Ho, Captain! Quick to the Electran Gate;
Bid gather all my men-at-arms thereat;
Call all that spur the charger, all who know
To wield the orbèd targe or bend the bow;
We march to war--'Fore God, shall women dare
Such deeds against us? 'Tis too much to bear!
DIONYSUS
Thou mark'st me not, O King, and holdest light
My solemn words; yet, in thine own despite,
I warn thee still. Lift thou not up thy spear
Against a God, but hold thy peace, and fear
His wrath! He will not brook it, if thou fright
His Chosen from the hills of their delight.
PENTHEUS
Peace, thou! And if for once thou hast slipped chain,
Give thanks!--Or shall I knot thine arms again?
DIONYSUS
Better to yield him prayer and sacrifice
Than kick against the pricks, since Dionyse
Is God, and thou but mortal.
PENTHEUS
That will I!
Yea, sacrifice of women's blood, to cry
His name through all Kithaeron!
DIONYSUS
Ye shall fly,
All, and abase your shields of bronzen rim
Before their wands.
PENTHEUS
There is no way with him,
This stranger that so dogs us! Well or ill
I may entreat him, he must babble still!
DIONYSUS
Wait, good my friend! These crooked matters may
Even yet be straightened.
[PENTHEUS _has started as though to seek his army at the gate._]
PENTHEUS
Aye, if I obey
Mine own slaves' will; how else?
DIONYSUS
Myself will lead
The damsels hither, without sword or steed.
PENTHEUS
How now?--This is some plot against me!
DIONYSUS
What
Dost fear? Only to save thee do I plot.
PENTHEUS
It is some compact ye have made, whereby
To dance these hills for ever!
DIONYSUS
Verily,
That is my compact, plighted with my Lord!
PENTHEUS (_turning from him_)
Ho, armourers! Bring forth my shield and sword!--
And thou, be silent!
DIONYSUS (_after regarding him fixedly, speaks with resignation_)
Ah!--Have then thy will!
[_He fixes his eyes upon_ PENTHEUS _again, while the armourers bring out
his armour; then speaks in a tone of command._]
Man, thou wouldst fain behold them on the hill
Praying!
PENTHEUS (_who during the rest of this scene, with a few exceptions,
simply speaks the thoughts that_ DIONYSUS _puts into him, losing power
over his own mind_)
That would I, though it cost me all
The gold of Thebes!
DIONYSUS
So much? Thou art quick to fall
To such great longing.
PENTHEUS (_somewhat bewildered at what he has said_)
Aye; 'twould grieve me much
To see them flown with wine.
DIONYSUS
Yet cravest thou such
A sight as would much grieve thee?
PENTHEUS
Yes; I fain
Would watch, ambushed among the pines.
DIONYSUS
'Twere vain
To hide. They soon will track thee out.
PENTHEUS
Well said!
'Twere best done openly.
DIONYSUS
Wilt thou be led
By me, and try the venture?
PENTHEUS
Aye, indeed!
Lead on. Why should we tarry?
DIONYSUS
First we need
A rich and trailing robe of fine-linen
To gird thee.
PENTHEUS
Nay; am I a woman, then,
And no man more.
DIONYSUS
Wouldst have them slay thee dead?
No man may see their mysteries.
PENTHEUS
Well said'--
I marked thy subtle temper long ere now.
DIONYSUS
'Tis Dionyse that prompteth me.
PENTHEUS
And how
Mean'st thou the further plan?
DIONYSUS
First take thy way
Within. I will array thee.
PENTHEUS
What array!
The woman's? Nay, I will not.
DIONYSUS
Doth it change
So soon, all thy desire to see this strange
Adoring?
PENTHEUS
Wait! What garb wilt thou bestow
About me?
DIONYSUS
First a long tress dangling low
Beneath thy shoulders.
PENTHEUS
Aye, and next?
DIONYSUS
The same red
Robe, falling to thy feet; and on thine head
A snood.
PENTHEUS
And after? Hast thou aught beyond?
DIONYSUS
Surely; the dappled fawn-skin and the wand.
PENTHEUS (_after a struggle with himself_)
Enough! I cannot wear a robe and snood.
DIONYSUS
Wouldst liefer draw the sword and spill men's blood?
PENTHEUS (_again doubting_)
True, that were evil.--Aye; 'tis best to go
First to some place of watch.
DIONYSUS
Far wiser so,
Than seek by wrath wrath's bitter recompense.
PENTHEUS
What of the city streets? Canst lead me hence
Unseen of any?
DIONYSUS
Lonely and untried
Thy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!
PENTHEUS
I care for nothing, so these Bacchanals
Triumph not against me! ...Forward to my halls
Within!--I will ordain what seemeth best.
DIONYSUS
So be it, O King! 'Tis mine to obey thine hest,
Whate'er it be.
PENTHEUS (_after hesitating once more and waiting_)
Well, I will go--perchance
To march and scatter them with serried lance.
Perchance to take thy plan.... I know not yet.
[_Exit_ PENTHEUS _into the Castle._]
DIONYSUS
Damsels, the lion walketh to the net!
He finds his Bacchae now, and sees and dies,
And pays for all his sin!--O Dionyse,
This is thine hour and thou not far away.
Grant us our vengeance!--First, O Master, stay
The course of reason in him, and instil
A foam of madness. Let his seeing will,
Which ne'er had stooped to put thy vesture on,
Be darkened, till the deed is lightly done.
Grant likewise that he find through all his streets
Loud scorn, this man of wrath and bitter threats
That made Thebes tremble, led in woman's guise.
I go to fold that robe of sacrifice
On Pentheus, that shall deck him to the dark.
His mother's gift!--So shall he learn and mark
God's true Son, Dionyse, in fulness God,
Most fearful, yet to man most soft of mood.
[_Exit_ DIONYSUS, _following PENTHEUS into Castle._]