Bacchae
Dionysus' plans
DIONYSOS
I, son of Zeus, have come to Theban soil-
I, Dionysos, to whom Semele,
Kadmos' daughter, gave a fiery birth
When flames of lightning burst to bring me forth.
Having changed my shape from god to mortal,
Now I have come to where two rivers flow-
The waters of the Dirke and the Ismenos.
I see beside the royal house the tomb
Of Semele, my mother, lightning- struck;
And here's her ruined house still smoldering
With the live flame of Zeus-the immortal rage
And violence of Hera against my mother.
But Kadmos I praise-he set aside this precinct
As sacred to his daughter's memory.
And then I covered it all around with vines
Of wide green leaves and clusters of the grape.
Leaving the country of the Phrygians,
And the Lydians, rich in bright gold, and going
Up to the heights of Persian plains, hard beaten
By the sun, then onward to the high-walled towns
Of the Baktrians, the grim hard lands of the Medes,
To opulent Arabia and all
Of Asia Minor, where in fine tall-towered
Cities by the salt sea, barbarians
And Greeks all mix together, I have come
First to this city, here among the Greeks,
After I set everyone in Asia
Dancing and founded my rites there, so that
All mortals would see that I am a god.
It was Thebes, in all of Greece, that I made
the first to raise the women's ecstatic cry.
I clothed Thebes in the fawn skin, and I gave
Into its hand the thyrsos, too -the ivy
Javelin- because my mother's sisters,
Who should have been the last, and the least inclined,
To deny me, did just that: denied that I
Am Dionysos, the son of Zeus. They said
That Semele had been taken by a man
And that she only claimed it was Zeus who was
To blame wrongdoing in her bed-
They thought this claim the sophistry of Kadmos.
My sisters gloated to everyone
That this lie was the reason Zeus had k1lled her.
So, like a gadfly I have stung these sisters
To a frenzy, out of their very homes, to live
Crazed in the mountains. And I made them wear
The trappings of their service to me, also.
The whole female seed of Kadmos' kin,
Every woman of that family,
I've driven from their homes in a state of madness,
And now, together with my mother's sisters,
They sit on rocks, without a roof, beneath
The pale green pines. For Thebes must fully learn-
Despite itself, if need be, what neglect
Of my Bakkhic rituals means. And I, revealed
To mortals as the god she bore to Zeus,
Must speak in defense of Semele, my mother.
Kadmos has handed all authority
Of rule to Pentheus, his daughter's son,
Who is at war with deity itself
When he behaves toward me as he does-
He is excluding me from his libations,
Making no mention of me when publicly
He calls upon the gods. But I will show
To him and Thebes that I was born a god.
When I've set this place to rights, I'll travel
To vet another country, to reveal
Myself again. And if this Theban city
Angrily takes up weapons and tries by force
To bring the Bakkhai down from the mountainside,
I will lead the maenads into battle-
That is why I've taken mortal shape,
Changed form to what in nature is a man.
[DIONYSOS prepares PENTHEUS to see the Bakkhai]
DIONYSOS You, Pentheus!-rushing toward what you should
Not rush to see, zealous for what should not
Evoke such zeal-you, Pentheus, come out!
Come out in front of the house, reveal yourself
To me, come out here wearing women's clothes,
Clothes of maenads, clothes of Bakkhai, ready
To spy on your own mother and her troupe.
PENTHEUS enters from the royal house, dressed as a woman, wearing a wig, a sash around his head, and a long linen robe like a dress, and carrying a thyrsos.
PENTHEUS It seems to me I see two suns,
A double seven-gated fortress of Thebes.
You lead me forward, so it seems, as a bull,
You seem to have grown two horns upon your head.
Were you, all this time, an animal?
For you have certainly been ... bullified.
DIONYSOS The god who earlier was ill-disposed toward us, comes with us,
At peace with us. You're seeing what you should see, now.
PENTHEUS How do I appear? Don't you think I'm standing
The way that Ino stands? Or as Agave-Mother-does?
Dionysus: Looking at you, I seem to see them, here.
But a lock of hair has fallen out of place,
It's not where I tucked it up beneath your sash.
PENTHEUS Inside, when I was shaking it back and forth,
Acting like the Bakkhai, it came loose.
DIONYSOS But since our task is to take good care of you,
I'll put it back-but hold your head up straight.
PENTHEUS Arrange it all! I'm dedicated to you.
DIONYSOS Your belt is slack. And then the pleats of your robe
Do not hang straight, below your ankles, either.
PENTHEUS No, it seems to me they don't, on my right side.
But on this side it's all straight at my heel.
DIONYSOS You'll certainly think I'm the first of all your friends,
When you're surprised to see how modest the Bakkhai are.
PENTHEUS Which way is more as the Bakkhai do - to hold
The thyrsos in my right hand or my left?
DIONYSOS Raise it right-handed, in time with your right foot.
I commend you on how changed your mind is.
PENTHEUS Would I be able to carry Mount Kithairon,
Canyons and Bakkhai, too, on my own shoulders?
DIONYSOS Yes, if you wished. Before, your mind was sick,
But now you have the kind of mind you should have.
PENTHEUS Should we bring strong bars? Or should I use bare hands to pry it up,
And set my arm or shoulder underneath the mountain top?
DIONYSOS Don't go destroying the shrines of nymphs up there,
And the haunts of Pan, where he plays his reed pipes.
PENTHEUS You're right. It's not by force that we must conquer
The women. I will hide among the trees.
DIONYSOS You will be hidden as you should be hidden-
A stealthy man who goes to spy on the maenads
PENTHEUS I think they're flitting through the woods like birds.
Then fluttering in the nets of making love.
DIONYSOS And isn't that just what you'll guard against?
You will catch them, if you are not caught first.
PENTHEUS Escort me up the widest street in Thebes,
Since I'm the only man who'd dare to do this.
DIONYSOS You alone must bear all this for Thebes-
Just you! That's why the contest you deserve
Awaits you. Follow me-I'll escort you
To salvation. But someone else will bring you back . . .
PENTHEUS... She who gave birth to me.
DIONYSOS You'll be remarkable to everyone
PENTHEUS That's why I'm going
DIONYSOS You'll be carried home
PENTHEUS It's soft delight you speak of
DIONYSOS In your mother's arms
PENTHEUS You'll force me to be spoiled
DIONYSOS Yes, true spoiling
DIONYSOS But I'll only claim my due
PENTHEUS exits
Dionysus: Terror, terror and awe surround you, now.
You'll suffer something terrible, you'll find
A fame that rises all the way to heaven.
Open vour arms, Agaue and your sisters,
Daughter-seed of Kadmos-I bring this youth
To the great contest, and both Bromios
And I will win. What happens next will show.
DIONYSOS exits
[A MESSENGER returns to report on what has happened in the woods]
After we left the settled ground of Thebes,
And crossed the streams of Asopos, we climbed up
Steep slopes of Mount Kithairon-Pentheus
And I, for I was close behind my master
And that Stranger who escorted us on our
Procession to the place where we would watch.
We were careful not to speak, nor to make
A sound when stepping, when we hid ourselves
In the gra**y valley so that we could see them
Without them seeing us. There was a ravine
Surrounded by high cliffs, braided by streams,
And shaded by stands of pine, and there the maenads
Were sitting, their hands engaged in pleasant tasks-
Some put new ivy curls at the crown of a staff,
And others-like young fillies that had been
Unharnessed from embroidered yokes-at rest,
Called out a Bakkhic song to one another.
Pentheus-poor, reckless man-who was
Unable to view the women, said, "O Stranger,
From where we stand I cannot see to where
Those faking maenads are, but if I climbed
A tall-necked tree, on higher ground, I'd see
Clearly what those shameless maenads are doing."
And then the Stranger performed some wondrous
deeds-
He reached to the top branch of a fir tree
As tall as the sky and pulled it downward, down,
Down till it touched the black earth and it formed
Half a circle, like a bow drawn back
Or the wheel-curve that's traced by the taut end
Of a pegged string. That is, with his bare hands
The Stranger bent the mountain fir in a way
No mortal could. And seating Pentheus
Among the branches, he began to let
The tree straighten itself, pa**ing it through
His hands so gently that it didn't buck
And throw its rider off, till it rose as far
As the air of heaven, my master on its back,
At the top. Instead of seeing maenads, though,
He was seen by them-for, as soon as he rose
Up there, the Stranger disappeared, and a voice
From heaven- Dionysos' voice, I'd think-
Cried out, ''Young women! I have brought you the man
Who makes a mockery of you and me
And of my mystic rites! Now take revenge
On him!" And as the voice proclaimed these things,
A rising light of holy fire was set
Between the earth and heaven. The high air
Was still; the leaves of all the trees were still-
You would not have heard one animal
Stir or cry out.
The women, since the sound
Had reached their ears from no apparent source,
Stood up and looked this way and that. Again
Came the command, and when they recognized
That it was Dionysos' voice, these women,
Daughters of Kadmos- Agave and all her kindred
Of the same seed, and all the Bakkhai-rushed
At him as fast as doves, but by the quickness
Of their running feet. And mad with the god's breath
They leapt the icy torrents and jagged boulders.
When they saw my master sitting atop
That tall fir tree, at first they picked up stones
And flung them at him with tremendous strength,
They clambered up on rocks as high as towers,
Some threw fir branches like crude javelins,
And others hurled their thyrsoi through the air
Of heaven at poor wretched Pentheus.
But not a thing could reach him. And as his height
Was greater than their fury, there he sat,
Caught in an impossible place. But at last
They started tearing up the roots of the tree,
Striking with oak branches like thunderbolts-
With bars of wood, not iron, they used as levers.
When all this toil proved useless, Agave said,
"Maenads! Make a circle and take hold
Of the trunk-let's capture this tree-climbing beast
And stop him from revealing to anyone
The secret dances of the god." They put
Countless hands on the tree and pulled it out
Of the earth. Sitting high up, high he is
When he starts to fall, and hurtling toward the ground
With countless groaning cries, he crashes down.
Pentheus knew that now he was at the edge
Of calamity. And his mother was the first,
As priestess, to begin the slaughter. She
Falls on him and he tears the headband from
His hair so that wretched Agave will
Recognize him, not k** him, and he touches
Her cheek as he begins to say to her,
"Mother, it's Pentheus, your child! It's me!
You gave birth to me in Ekhlon's house.
Have pity on me, Mother! Don't k** me
For my wrongdoing!" But she was slavering,
Her eyes rolled up, she was possessed by Bakkhos,
Not thinking as she should, and Pentheus
Did not persuade her. Taking with both her hands
His left forearm and setting her foot hard
Against the ribs of this ill-fated man,
She tore his shoulder out-not by her strength
But by the ease the god gave to her hands.
And Ino had destroyed his other side,
Breaking up his flesh, and Autonoe
And the Bakkhai mobbed him and everyone was screaming
At the same time-he groaning his last breath,
And they raising the war cry of their triumph.
One of them was flaunting a severed arm,
Another held a foot still shod for hunting,
His ribs were being bared by clawing nails,
And all with bloodied hands were playing games
By tossing hunks of the flesh of Pentheus.
His corpse lies scattered among the rugged rocks
And deep within the forest in thick foliage-
It will be difficult to find it all again
His pitiful head, which his mother took
In her own hands, she put at the top of a thyrsos,
She carries it across Kithairon's slope
As if it were a lion's head, she leaves
Her sisters with the dancing troupe of maenads.
Rejoicing in this hunt that is so un-
Lucky, she comes to town calling to Bakkhos,
Her fellow hunter, her comrade in the chase-
Triumphant Dionysos, through whose power
What she wins for a trophy is her tears.
I must go now, away from this disaster,
Before Agave comes back to the house.
Wise moderation and a reverence
For what is of the gods-this is what's best.
And this, I think, of all possessions owned
By mortals, is the wisest one to use.