Let us honor Bacchus with the dance, let us raise a shout for what has befallen Pentheus, descendant of the serpent, who assumed female attire and the wand, the beautiful thyrsos—certain death—and a bull was the leader of his calamity. Kadmean Bacchae, you have accomplished a glorious victory, but one that brings woe and tears. It is a noble contest to cover one’s dripping hands with the blood of one’s own son.Chorus LeaderBut, for I see Pentheus’ mother Agave coming home, her eyes contorted, receive the revel of the god of joy!

Enter AgaveAgaveAsian Bacchae—