All ye who dwell in fair fenced Thebes, draw near that ye may see the fierce wild beast that we daughters of Cadmus made our prey, not with the thong-thrown darts of Thessaly, nor yet with snares, but with our fingers fair.Ought men idly to boast and get them armourers' weapons? when we with these our hands have caught this prey and torn the monster limb from limb? Where is my aged sire? let him approach.And where is Pentheus, my son? Let him bring a ladder and raise it against the house to nail up on the gables this lion's head, my booty from the chase.
Enter CADMUS.
CADMUS
Follow me, servants to the palace-front, with your sad burden in your arms, ay, follow, with the corpse of Pentheus, which after long weary search I found, as ye see it, torn to pieces amid Cithaeron's glens, and am bringing hither; no two pieces did I find together, as they lay scattered through the trackless wood.For I heard what awful deeds one of my daughters had done, just as I entered the city-walls with old Teiresias returning from the Bacchanals; so Iturned again unto the and bring from thence my son who was slain by Maenads.There I saw Autonoe, that bare Actaeon on a day to Aristaeus, and Ino with her, still ranging the oak-groves in their unhappy frenzy; but one told me that that Agave, was rushing wildly hither, nor was it idly said, for there I see her, sight of woe!
AGAVE
Father, loudly mayst thou boast, that the daughters thou hast begotten are far the best of mortal race; of one and all I speak, though chiefly of myself, who left my shuttle at the loom for nobler enterprise, even to hunt savage beasts with my hands; and in my arms Ibring my prize, as thou seest, that it may be nailed up on thy palace-wall; take it, father, in thy had and proud of my hunting, call thy friends to a banquet; for blest art thou, ah! doubly blest in these our gallant exploits.
CADMUS
O grief that has no bounds, too cruel for mortal eye! 'tis murder ye have done with your hapless hands.Fair is the victim thou hast offered to the gods, inviting me and my Thebans to the feast Ah, woe is me first for thy sorrows, then for mine.What ruin the god, the Bromian king, hath brought on us, just maybe, but too severe, seeing he is our kinsman!
AGAVE
How peevish old age makes men! what sullen looks! Oh, may my son follow in his mother's footsteps and be as lucky in his hunting, when he goes quest of game in company with Theban youthsl But he can do naught but wage war with gods.Father, 'tis thy duty to warn him.
Who will summon him hither to my sight to witness my happiness?
CADMUS
Alas for you! alas! Terrible will be your grief when ye are conscious of your deeds; could ye re.for ever till life's close in your present state, ye would not, spite of ruined bliss, appear so cursed with woe.
AGAVE
Why? what is faulty bere? what here for sorrow?
CADMUS
First let thine eye look up to heaven.
AGAVE
See! I do so.Why dost thou suggest my looking thereupon?
CADMUS
Is it still the same, or dost think there's any change?
AGAVE
'Tis brighter than it was, and dearer too.
CADMUS
Is there still that wild unrest within thy soul?
AGAVE
I know not what thou sayest now; yet methinks my brain is clearing, and my former frenzy passed away.
CADMUS
Canst understand, and give distinct replies?
AGAVE
Father, how completely I forget all we said before!
CADMUS
To what house wert thou brought with marriage-hymns?
AGAVE
Thou didst give me to earthborn Echion, as men call him.
CADMUS
What child was born thy husband in his halls?
AGAVE
Pentheus, of my union with his father.
CADMUS
What head is that thou barest in thy arms?
AGAVE
A lion's; at least they said so, who hunted it.
CADMUS
Consider it aright; 'tis no great task to look at it.
AGAVE
Ah! what do I see? what is this I am carrying in my hands?
CADMUS
Look closely at it; make thy knowledge more certain.
AGAVE
Ah, 'woe is me! O sight of awful sorrow!
CADMUS
Dost think it like a lion's head?
AGAVE
Ah no! 'tis Pentheus' head which I his unhappy mother hold.
CADMUS
Bemoaned by me, or ever thou didst recognize him.
AGAVE
Who slew him? How came he into my hands?
CADMUS
O piteous truth! how ill-timed thy presence here!
AGAVE
Speak; my bosom throbs at this suspense.
CADMUS
1
AGAVE
Where died he? in the house or where?
CADMUS
On the very spot where hounds of yore rent Actaeon in pieces.
AGAVE
Why went he, wretched youth! to Cithaeron?
CADMUS
He would go and mock the god and thy Bacchic rites.
AGAVE
But how was it we had journeyed thither?
CADMUS
Ye were distraught; the whole city had the Bacchic frenzy.
AGAVE
'Twas Dionysus proved our ruin; now I see it all.
CADMUS
Yes, for the slight he suffered; ye would not believe in his godhead.
AGAVE
Father, where is my dear child's corpse?
CADMUS
