who to his joy is initiated in heavenly mysteries and leads a holy life, joining heart and soul in Bacchic revelry upon the hills, purified from every sin; observing the rites of Cybele, the mighty mother, and brandishing the thyrsus, with ivy-wreathed head, he worships Dionysus.Go forth, go forth, ye Bacchanals, bring home the Bromian god Dionysus, child of a god, from the mountains of Phrygia to the spacious streets of Hellas, bring home the Bromian god! whom on a day his mother in her sore travail brought forth untimely, yielding up her life beneath the lightning stroke of Zeus' winged bolt; but forthwith Zeus, the son of Cronos, found for him another womb wherein to rest, for he hid him in his thigh and fastened it with golden pins to conceal him from Hera.And when the Fates had fully formed the horned god, he brought him forth and crowned him with a coronal of snakes, whence it is the thyrsus-bearing Maenads hunt the snake to twine about their hair.O Thebes, nurse of Semele! crown thyself with ivy; burst forth, burst forth with blossoms fair of green convolvulus, and with the boughs of oak and pine join in the Bacchic revelry; dor;-thy coat of dappled fawn-skin, decking it with tufts of silvered hair; with reverent hand the sportive wand now wield.Anon shall the whole land be dancing, when Bromius leads his revellers to the hills, to the hills away! where wait him groups of maidens from loom and shuttle roused in frantic haste by Dionysus.O hidden cave of the Curetes! O hallowed haunts in Crete, that saw Zeus born, where Corybantes with crested helms devised for me in their grotto the rounded timbrel of ox-hide, mingling Bacchic minstrelsy with the shrill sweet accents of the Phrygian flute, a gift bestowed by them on mother Rhea, to add its crash of music to the Bacchantes' shouts of joy; but frantic satyrs won it from the mother-goddess for their own, and added it to their dances in festivals, which gladden the heart of Dionysus, each third recurrent year.Oh! happy that votary, when from the hurrying revel-rout he sinks to earth, in his holy robe of fawnskin, chasing the goat to drink its blood, a banquet sweet of flesh uncooked, as he hastes to Phrygia's or to Libya's hills;while in the van the Bromian god exults with cries of Evoe.With milk and wine and streams of luscious honey flows the earth, and Syrian incense smokes.While the Bacchante holding in his hand a blazing torch of pine uplifted on his wand waves it, as he speeds along, rousing wandering votaries, and as he waves it cries aloud with wanton tresses tossing in the breeze; and thus to crown the revelry, he raises loud his voice, "On, on, ye Bacchanals, pride of Tmolus with its rills of gold I to the sound of the booming drum, chanting in joyous strains the praises of your joyous god with Phrygian accents lifted high, what time the holy lute with sweet complaining note invites you to your hallowed sport, according well with feet that hurry wildly to the hills; like a colt that gambols at its mother's side in the pasture, with gladsome heart each Bacchante bounds along."Enter TEIRESIAS.
TEIRESIAS
What loiterer at the gates will call Cadmus from the house, Agenor's son, who left the city of Sidon and founded here the town of Thebes? Go one of you, announce to him that Teiresias is seeking him; he knows himself the reason of my coming and the compact I and he have made in our old age to bind the thyrsus with leaves and don the fawnskin, crowning our heads the while with ivy-sprays.
Enter CADMUS.
CADMUS
Best of friends! I was in the house when I heard thy voice, wise as its owner.I come prepared, dressed in the livery of the god.For 'tis but right I should magnify with all my might my own daughter's son, Dionysus, who hath shown his godhead unto men.Where are we to join the dance? where plant the foot and shake the hoary head? Do thou, Teiresias, be my guide, age leading age, for thou art wise.Never shall I weary, night or day, of beating the earth with my thyrsus.
What joy to forget our years?
TEIRESIAS
Why, then thou art as I am.For I too am young again, and will essay the dance.
CADMUS
We will drive then in our chariot to the hill.
TEIRESIAS
Nay, thus would the god not have an equal honour paid.
CADMUS
Well, I will lead thee, age leading age.
TEIRESIAS
The god will guide us both thither without toil.
CADMUS
Shall we alone of all the city dance in Bacchus' honour?
TEIRESIAS
Yea, for we alone are wise, the rest are mad.
CADMUS
We stay too long; come, take my hand.
TEIRESIAS
There link thy hand in my firm grip.
CADMUS
Mortal that I am, I scorn not the gods.
TEIRESIAS
No subtleties do I indulge about the powers of heaven.The faith we inherited from our fathers, old as time itself, no reasoning shall cast down; no! though it were the subtlest invention of wits refined.Maybe some one will say, I have no respect for my grey hair in going to dance with ivy round my head; not so, for the god did not define whether old or young should dance, but from all alike he claims a universal homage, and scorns nice calculations in his worship.
CADMUS
Teiresias, since thou art blind, I must prompt thee what to say.
Pentheus is coming hither to the house in haste, Echion's son, to whom I resign the government.How scared he looks I what strange tidings will he tell?
Enter PENTHEUS.
PENTHEUS
