The Greek Plays
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and lead him here. His patience made my job
so easy I felt bad, and I said, “Stranger,
I didn’t want to catch you. I’m obeying
Pentheus’ orders.” And the maenads, whom
you caught and chained up in the public jail,
are gone! They skipped off freely to the hills,
calling on their god, the Lord of Thunder.
The chains around their ankles just dissolved,
the bolts released the doors, without the touch
of human hand. This man’s a miracle worker.
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Well, it’s for you to tell what’s best to do.
PENTHEUS: Untie his hands. He’s trapped inside my net.
He can’t run from me now. He’s not so quick.
(Attendants untie Dionysus.)
Well, stranger, I can see you are attractive,
to women anyway—that’s why you came here.
Your hair is long, unsuitable for wrestling:
it ripples down your cheek so alluringly.
Your skin is white: you must take care of it,
avoiding sunlight, staying in the shade,
hunting Aphrodite with your beauty.*45
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Tell me first, what family do you come from?
DIONYSUS: No need to boast.*46 It’s easy to tell this:
no doubt you’ve heard of Tmolus, rich in flowers?
PENTHEUS: I know it: it surrounds the town of Sardis.
DIONYSUS: I come from there; I am a Lydian.
PENTHEUS: And why do you bring these rituals into Greece?
DIONYSUS: Dionysus sent me, son of Zeus.
PENTHEUS: Is there a new Zeus there, who breeds new gods?
DIONYSUS: No, the same Zeus who married Semele here.
PENTHEUS: Was it in dreams he pushed you to this quest?
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DIONYSUS: No, to my waking eyes he taught the rites.
PENTHEUS: These rites of yours, what are they like exactly?
DIONYSUS: The uninitiated must not know.*47
PENTHEUS: What profit do those celebrating get?
DIONYSUS: A good one, but not right for you to hear.
PENTHEUS: What a smart trick! You want to make me curious.
DIONYSUS: Impiety is hateful to our god.
PENTHEUS: You mean you saw this “god”? What was he like?
DIONYSUS: It’s not for me to say. He chose his look.
PENTHEUS: Again, you side-stepped with an empty phrase!
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DIONYSUS: It looks like folly to talk sense to fools.
PENTHEUS: Is this the first place you have brought this “god”?
DIONYSUS: All of the Easterners dance to these rites.*48
PENTHEUS: Foreigners are much sillier than us.
DIONYSUS: Their customs aren’t the same. In this, they’re smart.
PENTHEUS: Are your rites done at night, or in the day?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night. Darkness is magical.
PENTHEUS: Dirty tricks, just to seduce our women!
DIONYSUS: People act badly in the daylight, too.
PENTHEUS: You’ll have to pay the price for your smart tongue!
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DIONYSUS: And you for ignorant blasphemy to the god.
PENTHEUS: What bare-faced brashness! What a practiced sophist!*49
DIONYSUS: Tell me: how do you plan to punish me?
PENTHEUS: First I will cut this pretty hair of yours.
DIONYSUS: My locks are holy, sacred to the god.
PENTHEUS: Then, give me that thyrsus that you hold.
DIONYSUS: Take it yourself. I carry it for the god.
PENTHEUS: I’ll lock you up in prison and post guards.
DIONYSUS: The god himself will free me, when I wish.
PENTHEUS: When you stand with your maenads, calling him?
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DIONYSUS: Yes. He’s near, and knows my situation.
PENTHEUS: Where is he, then? I certainly can’t see him!
DIONYSUS: With me. Impiety has made you blind.
PENTHEUS: (to attendants) Seize him! He’s mocking me, and mocking Thebes.
DIONYSUS: Do not bind me. I am sane, you’re not.
PENTHEUS: I tell you, bind him! I’m the master here.
(Attendants prepare to bind Dionysus.)
DIONYSUS: You do not know yourself, or what you’re doing.
PENTHEUS: I am Agave’s son, and Echion’s: Pentheus.
DION.: A name that means misfortune.*50
PENTHEUS: Go! (to attendants) Shut him in the stables with the horses,
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Let him see only darkness. Dance in the dark!
As for those women you brought with you here,
accomplices, we’ll sell them,*51 or we’ll stop
their hands from beating noisy time on drums:
set them to work the loom as household slaves.
DIONYSUS: I’ll go. No need for needless suffering.
The god whom you declare does not exist
is after you; he’ll punish your abuses.
By wronging me, you chained the god himself.
(Attendants and Servant lead Dionysus to the stables. Pentheus returns to the palace.)
strophe
CHORUS:*52 Pure River Dirce, our lady, our princess,*53
520
child of the ancient waterways,
long ago you welcomed to your springs
the infant child of Zeus,
when his father snatched him
from the immortal flaming thunder
to hide him in his thigh, and called aloud:
“Come, Twice Born,*54 and enter
this, my manly womb.
I will proclaim to all of Thebes
that this shall be your name: the Lord of Dithyramb, the Double Gate!”*55
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But Holy Dirce, you reject me
and my revels on your banks,
with my garlanded companions.
Why do you spurn me? Why do you run from me?
I’m sure of it, I swear, even by the clusters
of joy that Dionysus’ grapes can bring,
you truly care about our Lord, the Rumbling Thunder.
antistrophe
What rage, what passionate rage
the earth-born race is showing,
and Pentheus, descendent of the dragon’s teeth,
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the son of Echion, the earth-born,
that savage monster, not a mortal man.
Like a murderous giant,
he attacked the gods.
Now look! He plans to tie me up—
me, a follower of the Thunder Lord!
Already he has taken
my fellow celebrant,
chained him up and hidden him away,
in darkness, inside the house.
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Do you see, Dionysus, son of Zeus,
how those who speak your glory
are in trial and tribulation, forced to yield?
Come, Lord, come, down from mount Olympus,
holding high your thyrsus, smiling golden;
stop this violent, red-handed man.
epode
Dionysus, are you dancing on Mount Nysa,
where wild animals are nourished,
or on the crags of the Corycian Cave,
waving high your wand above your worshippers?*56
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Or are you hiding in the forest, dense with trees,
on Mount Olympus, where once Orpheus played,
plucking his lyre, and by his music
gathered the trees together,
and gathered the wild beasts?*57
Pieria, you are blessed:*58
the Lord of Ululation honors you;
he will come and bring his dances
and his rites of holy joy;
he will cross swift-flowing Axius,
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bringing us, his whirling maenads,
over Father Lydias,
whose lovely streams
bring wealth to mortals,
which makes rich the Land of Horses,
Macedonia.*59
(Dionysus calls to the Chorus from offstage.)
DIONYSUS: Cry triumph!*60
Hear me, maenads! Hear me, maenads!
Hear my voice!
CHORUS: Who is this? Where did it come from,
the joyful call of our Lord, a cry of triumph?
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DIONYSUS: Cry triumph! I call again!
I am Dionysus, son of Semele.
CHORUS: Cry triumph, Master, Master!
Come to us, join our company,
now, O Lord of the Rumbling Thunder!
DIONYSUS: Spirit of Earthquakes, shake up the flat of the earth!
CHORUS: O my Lord, O my Lord,
the palace of Pentheus
shakes on its pediments, soon it will fall!
—Honor him.
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—We honor him!*61
Did you see? The lintels of stone on the columns
have broken apart!
—Now our Lord of the Thunder
shrieks in triumph in the house!
DIONYSUS: (still from offstage) Light the fiery torch of lightning!
Burn it all, burn it down, burn the whole house of Pentheus!
CHORUS: Oh, look! Did you see?
Do you see the fire, do you see what’s happening?
The flame of Zeus’s lightning burns again around the tomb of Semele,
thunderbolt that struck her long ago!
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Throw yourselves to the ground,
trembling maenads, throw your bodies down.
Our lord the son of Zeus
has come upon this house;
he turns it downside up and upside-down.
(Dionysus enters, disguised as the Stranger.)
DIONYSUS:*62 Women of Asia, why be so alarmed?
Why are you falling to the ground? Because
Bacchus is making Pentheus’ palace quake?
Stand up, be confident, no need to tremble!
CHORUS: Light of my life, my ecstasy, my joy!
We were alone, but now you’re here, you’re safe!
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DIONYSUS: Did you despair, when I was taken in
to Pentheus’ dark dungeons, in his snares?
CHORUS: Of course! Who could protect me, if you fell?
How did you free yourself from that blasphemer?
DIONYSUS: Easily. I saved myself; no trouble.
CHORUS: Did Pentheus not tie your hands with ropes?
DIONYSUS: That made me laugh! He thought that he could trap me.
He couldn’t touch me, all his hopes were foiled.
In the stable where he took and bound me,
he found a bull, and panting, dripping sweat,
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grinding his teeth with effort, he was striving
to shove his shackles round its legs. But I
sat quietly watching what he did. Just then,
Bacchus came and shook the house, set fire
to Semele’s tomb. When he saw this, he thought
his house was burning, and ran here and there,
calling his slaves for water.*63 So much work,
and useless. Once he saw I had escaped,
he stopped, grabbed his black sword, and ran inside.
Then the Lord of Thunder—as I guess—
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made a phantom*64 in the courtyard, which the man
dashed at, stabbing shining air, thinking
he was killing me! And more: the god
has hurt him more: his house is razed, all ruined.
Now he sees what comes of jailing me!
He’s exhausted, and has dropped his sword.
This mortal man dared challenge god to fight.
But I came quietly out of the house, to you.
I didn’t worry about Pentheus.
I hear his boots inside the house—it seems
he’s coming out to the front. What will he say?
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No matter how he huffs, I’ll keep my calm.
Wise men are gentle and have self-control.
(Enter Pentheus.)
PENTHEUS:*65 Terrible news! The foreigner escaped me!
I’d only just managed to chain him up.
(He sees Dionysus.) But look! He’s here!
This is the man! What’s this? Has he got out?
Is this really him outside the house?
DIONYSUS: Stop there, calm down, enough of this emotion.
650
PENTHEUS: How on earth did you escape and get here?
DIONYSUS: Didn’t I say someone would set me free?
Didn’t you listen?
PENT.: Who? You talk so strangely.
DIONYSUS: The one who makes thick-clustered vines for mortals.
PENTHEUS:
DIONYSUS: You sneer at Dionysus’ greatest glory.
PENTHEUS: (to attendants) Block up every entrance to the garrison!
DIONYSUS: Why? Can’t gods leap over any walls?
PENTHEUS: You know it all, but you know nothing real.
DIONYSUS: I’ve always known whatever I need to know.
(Enter Messenger.)
Now listen to this messenger from the mountains,
and find out what he has to say to you.
I’ll wait for you, I will not run away.
660
MESSENGER: Ruler of this land of Thebes, King Pentheus,
I have come from Mount Cithaeron, shining
with coverings of white snow that keep on falling.
PENTHEUS: Have you come with some important news?
MESSENGER: I saw the holy women in their frenzy:
like spears their snow-white bodies flew, stung mad.
I came because I wished to tell you and the city,
master, what miracles they do, and more.
Also, please tell me if I may speak freely,
or check my tongue about what happened there.
670
I fear the quickness of your temper, lord,
your passion: you are all too much a king.
PENTHEUS: Just speak! I promise not to punish you;
one must not lose one’s temper with the innocent.
But the more terrible the things you say
about the maenad women, so much more
I’ll punish him, who taught them all these tricks.
MESSENGER: My herd of cattle was just climbing up
to pasture at the summit, as the sun
was sending out its warmest rays to earth.
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I saw three choruses of women dancers:
one led by Autonoë, and the second
your mother led; the third was led by Ino.
They all were fast asleep, bodies relaxed,
some resting on the boughs of silver fir,
while others used the oak leaves as a pillow,
down on the ground, in careless innocence:
not drunk with wine, as you said, or with music
of pipes, nor hunting Eros in the wild.
You mother stood up in the midst of them
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and called, “Wake up! Stand up!” She’d heard the lowing
of the long-horned cattle coming near.
The women rubbed the deep sleep from their eyes
and stood right up: what an amazing sight!
So beautiful! Young girls, old women, virgins.
First they let their hair down to their shoulders,*67
then fastened on their fawnskins, if they’d loosened
from their knots, and belted the brindled furs
with snakes whose tongues stuck out to lick their cheeks.
Those whose breasts were full from giving birth,
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p; 700
who’d left their babies back at home, were cradling
deer or wolf-cubs in their arms, which sucked
their white milk. On their heads, they set their wreaths
of ivy, oak, or flowering greenbriar.
When one taps her thyrsus on the rock,
a stream of dewy water rushes out.
Another strikes her fennel on the ground,
and there, right there, the god makes wine pour forth.
If any girl was thirsty for some milk,
she scratched the earth with just her fingertips,
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and out spurt jets of gushing white. Their wands
of ivy dripped with honey, flowing sweet.
If you had been there, you, too, would have worshipped
the god you now despise—if you had seen it.
We joined together, shepherds and cowherds both,
arguing with each other and debating
about the marvelous miracles we saw.
A man from town who had a way with words
said to us all: “Come now, inhabitants
of these holy mountain valleys, shall we
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hunt Agave, Pentheus’ mother, drive her
out from these Bacchic rites, and please the king?”
We liked his plan, and hid in the tufty thickets,
ready to pounce. At the appointed hour
they raised their wands to start the Bacchic rites,
calling the lord of Thunder, “Praise the lord!,”
calling the son of Zeus, and with their worship
all the mountain, all the beasts were dancing.
Just then Agave leapt right next to me.
I jumped to catch her—so I hoped: I left
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the bushes I had made my hiding place.
But she called out, “Swift hunting dogs of mine,
let’s hunt these men! Come on now, follow me,
carrying the thyrsus as our weapon.”
We made a quick retreat—we didn’t want
those maenads tearing us apart. The women,
holding no swords, attacked a grazing herd
of cattle. Here a heifer, fat with milk
bellows as a woman seizes her
and rips her open. Others shred the calves:
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ribs and cloven hooves are flung around,
up and down; you should have seen it! Pieces
hung from the firs, bespattered, dripping blood.
Proud butting bulls whose horns were thick with rage
now tumbled to the ground, laid low by girls;
many little hands drag down their bulk.
The flesh that clothed their bodies got torn off
quicker than you could blink your royal eyes.
They swoop like birds uplifted by their speed
through valleys down below, beside the river