Bacchae

Euripides

Euripides. The Tragedies of Euripides. Vol. I. Buckley, Theodore Alois, translator. London: Henry G. Bohn, 1850.

  1. tearing his flesh, while Autonoe and the whole crowd of the Bacchae pressed on. All were making noise together, he groaning as much as he had life left in him, while they shouted in victory. One of them bore his arm, another a foot, boot and all. His ribs were stripped bare
  2. from their tearings. The whole band, hands bloodied, were playing a game of catch with Pentheus’ flesh. His body lies in different places, part under the rugged rocks, part in the deep foliage of the woods, not easy to be sought. His miserable head,
  3. which his mother happened to take in her hands, she fixed on the end of a thyrsos and carries through the midst of Kithairon like that of a savage lion, leaving her sisters among the Maenads’ dances. She is coming inside these walls, preening herself
  4. on the ill-fated prey, calling Bacchus her fellow hunter, her accomplice in the chase, the glorious victor—in whose service she wins a triumph of tears. And as for me, I will depart out of the way of this calamity before Agave reaches the house.
  5. Soundness of mind and reverence for the affairs of the gods is best; and this, I think, is the wisest possession for those mortals who adopt it.
Chorus
  1. Let us honor Bacchus with the dance, let us raise a shout for what has befallen
  2. 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.
  3. 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 Leader
  1. But, for I see Pentheus’ mother Agave coming home, her eyes contorted, receive the revel of the god of joy!
Enter Agave
Agave
  1. Asian Bacchae—
Chorus
  1. Why do you excite me, oh?
Agave
  1. I am bringing home from the mountain a
  2. freshly cut tendril to the house, blessed prey.
Chorus
  1. I see it and will accept you as a fellow reveler.
Agave
  1. I caught this young wild lion cub without snares,
  2. as you can see.
Chorus
  1. From what desert?
Agave
  1. Kithairon—
Chorus
  1. Kithairon?
Agave
  1. Slew him.