Works of Nonnus

by Nonnus

  ἔλπετο δ᾽ ἀκαμάτων ἐπικείμενον ὑψόθεν ὤμων

  Θήβης ἑπταπόροιο μετοχλίζειν πυλεῶνα.

  [116] With mimicking feet Pentheus twirled in the dance, full of sweet madness; he rattled the ground with sidelong boot, darting one foot away from another. Unmanning his two hands he shook them in alternate beats, like a dancing woman at play; as drumming a double tune on the two plates of the cymbals, he loosed his long hair to float on the breezes of heaven and struck up a Euian melody of Lydia. You might fairly say you saw a wild Bacchant woman madly rollicking. Yes, and he saw two suns and two cities of Thebes; he thought he could hold a gatehouse of sevengate Thebes, hoisting it upon his untiring shoulders.”

  ἀμφὶ δέ μιν στεφανηδὸν ἐκυκλώσαντο πολῖται,

  ὃς μὲν ἔχων τροχόεντα λόφον χθονός, ὃς δ᾽ ἐπὶ πέτρῳ

  130 ὑψιφανής, ὁ δὲ πῆχυν ἐπ᾽ ἀνέρος ὦμον ἐρείσας

  ἴχνος ἀνῃώρησεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δάκτυλα πήξας:

  καί τις ἐυγλώχινα μετήιεν ὄγκον ἀρούρης,

  ἄλλος ἐπὶ προβλῆτος ἐπάλξιος, ὃς δὲ δοκεύων

  δόχμιον ὄμμα τίταινεν ἀερσιλόφων ἀπὸ πύργων:

  135 ὃς δὲ μέσας στεφανηδὸν ἐπ᾽ ἄντυγι χεῖρας ἑλίξας

  ἴχνεσιν ἀκροπόροισιν ἀνήιε κίονα βαίνων,

  Πενθέα παπταίνων δεδονημένον ἅλματι λύσσης,

  θύρσον ἀερτάζοντα καἰ αἰθύσσοντα καλύπτρην.

  [128] Round him the people assembled in a ring, climbing one on a round tump of earth, one conspicuous high on a rock, while a third rested an arm over the shoulder of a neighbour and raised his foot on tiptoe above the ground: here one made for some lump sticking out of the earth, another was on a projecting bastion, another watched with slanting eye from the towering ramparts; another hugging a round pillar swarmed up with the flat of his feet, and watched Pentheus waving his thyrsus and fluttering his veil and leaping in the throes of madness.

  ἤδη δ᾽ ἑπταπόροιο παρέδραμε τείχεα Θήβης,

  140 αὐτομάτοις ἑλίκεσσιν ἀνοιγομένων πυλεώνων:

  ἤδη δὲ πρὸ πόληος ἐς ἠέρα βόστρυχα σείων

  ἁβρὰ δρακοντοβότοιο παρέστιχε νάματα Δίρκης:

  καὶ ποδὶ λυσσήεντι χοροίτυπον ἴχνος ἑλίσσων

  δαίμονος ἀμπελόεντος ὀπίστερον εἶχε πορείην.

  [139] Already he had gone round the walls of Thebes while the portals of the seven gates opened on selfmoving pivots, already he had passed the soft waters of dragonfeeding Dirce before the city, with his hair blowing on the wind; and beating mad feet in the circling dance he followed his course behind the vinegod.

  145 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε χῶρον ἵκανεν, ὅθι δρύες, ἧχι χορεῖαι,

  καἰ τελεταὶ Βρομίου θιασώδεες, ἧχι καὶ αὐτὴ

  Βασσαρίδων ἀπέδιλος ἔην κεμαδοσσόος ἄγρη,

  ἀμπελόεις τότε Βάκχος ὀρειάδος ἔνδοθι λόχμης

  ἀρχαίην ἐλάτην ἰσομήκεα γείτονι πέτρῃ

  150 δένδρον ἰδὼν περίμετρον ἐγήθεεν, ἧς ὑπὸ θάμνῳ

  ἀγχινεφεῖς πετάλοισιν ἐπεσκιόωντο κολῶναι:

  ἀκρότατον δὲ κόρυμβον ἀφειδέι χειρὶ πιέζων

  εἰς πέδον, εἰς πέδον εἷλκε κατὰ χθονὸς ἐκταδὰ Πενθεὺς...

  θαλλὸν ἀερσιπότητον, ἐπισφίγγων δὲ φορῆα

  155 ὕψι τιταινομένων ἐδράξατο χειρὶ κορύμβων,

  καὶ πόδας ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα παλινδίνητος ἑλίσσων

  ἄστατος ὀρχηστῆρι τύπῳ κουφίζετο Πενθεύς.

  [145] But when he came to the place where the trees were, and the dances and rites of the congregation of Bromios, where also was the hunting of their prickets by the unshod Bassarids, then vinegod Bacchos was glad, and espied in the mountain forest an ancient fir-tree tall as the neighbouring rock, which cast a shade with its bushy leaves over the cloudhigh hills. With unflinching hand he seized the top of the tree and dragged it down, down to the ground. Pentheus lay along the ground [and Bacchos let go] the soaring spire, Pentheus clung to the tree that carried him on high, grasped the branches with his hands as they were borne aloft, and whirling his legs about this way and that way restlessly, moved lightly like a dancer.

  καὶ τότε βασσαρίδεσσι χορίτιδες ἤλυθον Ὧραι:

  ἀλλήλαις δ᾽ ἐκέλευον, ἀνεζώννυντο δὲ πέπλοις,

  160 νεβρίδα δ᾽ ἀμφεβάλοντο: καἰ οὐρεσίφοιτος Ἀγαύη

  ἀφροκόμοις στομάτεσσιν ἀπερροίβδησεν ἰωήν:

  [158] Then came the dancing-hours for the Bassarids. They called to one another and tucked up their robes and threw on the fawnskins. Hillranging Agaue shouted aloud with foam on her lips —

  ‘Αὐτονόη, σπεύσωμεν, ὅπῃ χορός ἐστι Λυαίου

  καὶ κτύπος οὐρεσίφοιτος ἀκούεται ἠθάδος αὐλοῦ,

  ὄφρα μέλος πλέξαιμι φιλεύιον, ὄφρα δαείω,

  165 τίς φθαμένη στήσειε χοροστασίην Διονύσῳ,

  τίς τίνα νικήσειε θυηπολέουσα Λυαίῳ.

  δηθύνεις, ἀχόρευτε, καἰ ἡμέας ἔφθασεν Ἰνώ:

  οὐκέτι πόντον ἔχει μετανάστιος, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὴ

  ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθε θέουσα σὺν ὑγροπόρῳ Μελικέρτῃ,

  170 ἦλθε προασπίζουσα διωκομένου Διονύσου,

  μὴ Πενθεὺς ἀθέμιστος ἐπιβρίσειε Λυαίῳ.

  Μύστιδες, εἰς σκοπέλους, Ἰσμηνίδες ἔλθετε Βάκχαι,

  καὶ τελετάς στήσωμεν, ὁμοζήλῳ δὲ χορείῃ

  Λυδαῖς Βασσαρίδεσσιν ἐρίζομεν, ὄφρά τις εἴπῃ:

  175 ‘Μυγδονίην νίκησε Μιμαλλόνα Μαινὰς Ἀγαύν.’’

  [162] “Autonoe, let us make haste to the dance of Lyaios, where the hillranging voice of the familiar pipe is heard, that I may recite the song that Euios loves, that I may learn who first will lead the dance for Dionysos, who will beat whom in doing worship to Lyaios! You’re late, you slack dancer, Ino has got there before us! She is no longer an exile in the sea, but here she too comes running from the brine with Melicertes the seafarer, she has come to defend hunted Dionysos, lest impious Pentheus overwhelm Lyaios. Mystics, to the mountains! Ismenian Bacchants, here! Let us celebrate our rites, and match the Lydian Bassarids with rival dances, that some one may say — Mainad Agaue has beaten Mygdonian Mimallon!”

  ὣς φαμένη σκοπίαζε καθήμενον ὑψόθι δένδρου,

  ἄγριον οἷα λέοντα, θεημάχον υἱέα μήτηρ:

  καί μιν ἀγειρομέναις ἐπεδείκνυε θυιάσι Βάκχαις:

  υἱέα δ᾽ ἔμφρονα θῆρα καλέσσατο λυσσάδι φωνῇ.

  180 ἀμφὶ δέ μιν στεφανηδὸν ἐκυκλώ
σαντο γυναῖκες

  ἑζόμενον πετάλοισι: καὶ εὐπαλάμῳ τινὶ δεσμῷ

  δένδρον ἐπηχύναντο, καἰ ἤθελον εἰς χθόνα ῥίπτειν

  ἔρνος ὁμοῦ Πενθῆι: περισφίγξασα δὲ θάμνῳ

  ὁλκὸν ὁμοζυγέος παλάμης ἐνοσίχθονι παλμῷ

  185 πρυμνόθεν αὐτόρριζον ἀνέσπασε δένδρον Ἀγαύη.

  καὶ φυτὸν εἰς χθόνα πῖπτεν: ἐγυμνώθη δὲ Κιθαιρών:

  καἰ θρασὺς αὐτοέλικτος ἄναξ βητάρμονι παλμῷ

  κύμβαχος ἠερόθεν κεκυλισμένος ἤριπε Πενθεύς.

  καί τότε μιν λίπε λύσσα νοοσφαλέος Διονύσου,

  190 καὶ προτέρας φρένας ἔσχε τὸ δεύτερον: ἀμφὶ δὲ γαίῃ

  γείτονα πότμον ἔχων κινυρὴν ἐφθέγξατο φωνήν:

  [176] As the words were spoken, she saw sitting high in a tree, like a savage lion — the mother saw her impious son. She pointed him out to the frenzied Bacchants gathering there, and in the voice of a maniac called her own human son a wild beast. The women thronged round him girdlewise as he sat amid the leaves; they embraced the trunk with a ring of skilful hands and tried to throw down the tree with Pentheus in it — but Agaue threw her two arms about the trunk, and with earthshaking heave pulled the tree up from its base, roots and all. The tree fell to the ground, and Cithairon was bare. Pentheus the audacious king shot through the air of himself with a dancing leap, rolling and tumbling like a diver. At that moment the madness left him which Dionysos had sent to confuse his mind, and he recovered his senses again. He saw fate near him on the earth, and cried in lamentable tones:

  ‘Νύμφαι Ἁμαδρυάδες με καλύψατε, μή με δαμάσσῃ

  παιδοφόνοις παλάμῃσιν ἐμὴ φιλότεκνος Ἀγαύη.

  μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέος ἴσχεο λύσσης:

  195 θῆρα πόθεν καλέεις με τὸν υἱέα; ποῖα κομίζω

  στήθεα λαχνήεντα; τίνα βρυχηθμὸν ἰάλλω;

  οὐκέτι γινώσκεις με, τὸν ἔτρεφες, οὐκέτι λεύσσεις:

  σὴν φρένα καὶ τεὸν ὄμμα τίς ἥρπασε; χαῖρε, Κιθαιρών:

  χαίρετε, δένδρεα ταῦτα καὶ οὔρεα: σώζεο, Θήβη

  200 σώζεο καὶ σύ, φίλη παιδοκτόνε μῆτερ Ἀγαύη.

  δέρκεο ταῦτα γένεια νεότριχα, δέρκεο μορφὴν

  ἀνδρομέην: οὐκ εἰμὶ λέων: οὐ θῆρα δοκεύεις.

  φείδεο σῆς ὠδῖνος, ἀμείλιχε, φείδεο μαζῶν:

  Πενθέα παπταίνεις με, τὸν ἔτρεφες. ἴσχεο, φωνή,

  205 μύθους σεῖο φύλαξον: ἀνήκοός ἐστιν Ἀγαύη.

  εἰ δὲ κατακτείνεις με χαριζομένη Διονύσῳ,

  μούνη παῖδα δάμασσον, ἀγάστονε, μηδὲ δαμῆναι

  Βασσαρίδων τεὸν υἷα νόθαις παλάμῃσιν ἐάσῃς.’

  [192] “Cover me, Hamadryad Nymphs! Let not Agaue my loving mother destroy her son with her own hands! O my mother, cruel mother, cease from this heartless frenzy! How can you call me your son a wild beast? Where is my shaggy chest? Where is my roaring voice? Do you not know me any longer whom you nursed, do not you see any longer? Who has robbed you of sense and sight? Farewell, Cithairon, farewell these mountains and trees! Be happy, Thebes, be happy you too, Agaue my dear mother and my murderer! See this chin with its young beard, see the shape of a man — I am no lion; no wild beast is what you see. Spare the fruit of your womb, pitiless one, spare your breasts. Pentheus is before you, your nursling. Silence, my voice, keep your tale to yourself, Agaue will not hear! But if you kill me to please Dionysos, let no other destroy your son, unhappy one, let not your son be destroyed by the alien hands of Bassarids.”

  ὣς φάμενος λιτάνευε, καὶ οὐκ ἤκουσεν Ἀγαύη.

  210 ἀμφὶ δέ μιν δασπλῆτες ἐπερρώοντο γυναῖκες

  χερσὶν ὁμοζήλοισι: κυλινδομένου δὲ κονίῃ

  ἡ μέν ὀπισθιδίους πόδας εἴρυσεν, ἡ δὲ λαβοῦσα

  δεξιτερὴν προθέλυμνον ἀνέσπασεν, Αὐτονόη δὲ

  λαιὴν ἀντερύεσκε: παραπλαγχθεῖσα δὲ μήτηρ

  215 στήθεϊ παιδὸς ἔπηξεν ἑὸν πόδα, κεκλιμένου δὲ

  αὐχένα τολμήεντα διέθρισεν ὀξέι θύρσῳ:

  καὶ φονίῳ ταχύγουνος ἀνέδραμε χάρματι λύσσης,

  αἱματόεν δὲ κάρηνον ἀτερπέι δείκνυε Κάδμῳ:

  ψευδομένου δὲ λέοντος ἀγαλλομένη χάριν ἄγρης

  220 τοῖον ἀπερροίβδησεν ἔπος λυσσώδεϊ λαιμῷ:

  [209] Such was his prayer, and Agaue heard him not; but the terrible women attacked him with one accord; as he rolled in the dust, one pulled on his legs, one seized his right arm and wrenched it out at the joint, Autonoe dragged opposite at the left; his deluded mother set her foot on his chest, and cut through that daring neck as he lay with sharp thyrsus — then ran nimbleknee with frenzied joy in his murder, and displayed the bloody head to unwelcoming Cadmos. Triumphant in the capture of a lion, as she thought, she cried out these words of madness:

  ‘Κάδμε μάκαρ, καλέω σε μακάρτερον: ἐν σκοπέλοις γὰρ

  χερσὶν ἀθωρήκτοισιν ἀριστεύουσαν Ἀγαύην

  Ἄρτεμις ἐσκοπίαζε, καὶ εἰ πέλε δεσπότις ἄγρης,

  ζῆλον ὑποκλέπτουσα λεοντοφόνου σέο κούρης:

  225 καὶ Δρυάδες θάμβησαν ἐμὸν πόνον: ἡμετέρης δὲ

  Ἁρμονίης γενέτην κεκορυθμένος ἠθάδι λόγχῃ

  παῖδα τεήν ἀσίδηρον ἐθάμβεε χάλκεος Ἄρης

  θύρσον ἀκοντίζουσαν ἀλοιητῆρα λεόντων,

  κυδιόων: σὺ δέ, Κάδμε, τεῶν ἐπιβήτορα θώκων

  230 Πενθέα δεῦρο κάλεσσον, ὅπως φθονερῇσιν ὀπωπαῖς

  θηροφόνους ἱδρῶτας ὀπιπεύσειε γυναίου.

  [221] “Blessed Cadmos, more blessed now I call you! For in the mountains Artemis has seen Agaue triumphant with no weapon in her hands; and even if she is queen of the hunt, she must hide her jealousy of your lionslaying daughter. The Dryads also wondered at my work. And the father of our Harmonia, armed with his familiar lance, brazen Ares, wondered full of pride at your child without a spear, casting a thyrsus and destroying lions. Pray call the king on your throne, Cadmos, call Pentheus here, that with envious eyes he may see the beastslaying sweat of a weak woman!

  δμῶες ἐμοί, στείχεσθε, παρὰ προπύλαια δὲ Κάδμου

  πήξατε τοῦτο κάρηνον ἐμῆς ἀναθήματα νίκης.

  τηλίκον οὔ ποτε θῆρα κατέκτανε σύγγονος Ἰνώ:

  235 Αὐτονόη, σκοπίαζε καὶ αὐχένα κάμψον Ἀγαύῃ:

  οὐ γὰρ ἐμοὶ λάχες εὖχος ὁμοίιον, ὑμετέρου δὲ

  μητρὸς Ἀριστ
αίοιο φατιζομένην ἔτι νίκην

  σῆς ἑκυρῆς ᾔσχυνα λεοντοφόνοιο Κυρήνης.’

  [232] “ This way, my men, hang up this head as a votive offering of my victory on the gatehouse of Cadmos. Sister Ino never killed a beast like this! Look here Autonoe, and bow your neck to Agaue! For you have never won glory like mine — the still famous victory of lionslaying Cyrene, mother of your Aristaios and your own goodmother, has been put to shame by mine!”

  ἔννεπε κουφίζουσα φίλον βάρος: εἰσαΐων δὲ

  240 Κάδμος ἀγαλλομένης ἑτερόφρονα παιδὸς ἀπειλήν,

  μίξας δάκρυσι μῦθον ἀμείβετο πενθάδι φωνῇ:

  [239] While she spoke, she lifted her dear burden; but Cadmos hearing the distracted boasts of his exulting daughter, answered in mourning voice and mingled his tears with his words:

  ‘Οἷον θῆρα δάμασσας ἐχέφρονα, τέκνον Ἀγαύη;

  οἷον θῆρα δάμασσας, ὅν ὑμετέρη τέκε γαστήρ;

  οἷον θῆρα δάμασσας, ὅν ἐσπέρμηνεν Ἐχίων;

  245 δέρκεο σεῖο λέοντα, τὸν εἰσέτι τυτθὸν ἀείρων

  παιδοκόμῳ κούφιζε γεγηθότι Κάδμος ἀγοστῷ:

  δέρκεο σεῖο λέοντα, τὸν Ἁρμονίη σέο μήτηρ

  πολλάκις ἠέρταζε καὶ ὤρεγε μαζὸν ἀμέλγειν.

  μαστεύεις σέο παῖδα τεῶν θηήτορα μόχθων:

  250 πῶς καλέσω Πενθῆα, τὸν ἐν παλάμῃσιν ἀείρεις;

  ὅν κτάνες ἀγνώσσουσα, πόθεν σέο παῖδα καλέσσω;

  [242] “Ah, what a beast you have brought down, Agaue my child, one with human reason! What a beast you have brought down, one which your own womb brought forth! What a beast you have brought down, one that Echion begat! Look upon your lion, one that Cadmos lifted upon his nursing arm when he was still a little tot, held in his joyful arms. Look upon your lion, one that your mother Harmonia often caught up and held to your suckling breast. You search for your son to see your work: how can I call Pentheus, when you hold him in your hands? How can I call your son, whom you have killed in ignorance? Look at your beast, and you will recognize your son.