Hippolytus; The Bacchae Part 18
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CHORUS
_Some Maidens_ Weave ye the dance, and call Praise to G.o.d!
Bless ye the Tyrant's fall!
Down is trod Pentheus, the Dragon's Seed!
Wore he the woman's weed?
Clasped he his death indeed, Clasped the rod?
_A Baccha.n.a.l_ Yea, the wild ivy lapt him, and the doomed Wild Bull of Sacrifice before him loomed!
_Others_ Ye who did Bromios scorn, Praise Him the more, Baccha.n.a.ls, Cadmus-born; Praise with sore Agony, yea, with tears!
Great are the gifts he bears!
Hands that a mother rears Red with gore!
LEADER But stay, Agave cometh! And her eyes Make fire around her, reeling! Ho, the prize Cometh! All hail, O Rout of Dionyse!
[_Enter from the Mountain_ AGAVE, _mad, and to all seeming wondrously happy, bearing the head of_ PENTHEUS _in her hand. The_ CHORUS MAIDENS _stand horror-struck at the sight; the_ LEADER, _also horror-struck, strives to accept it and rejoice in it as the G.o.d's deed_.]
AGAVE Ye from the lands of Morn!
LEADER Call me not; I give praise!
AGAVE Lo, from the trunk new-shorn Hither a Mountain Thorn Bear we! O Asia-born Baccha.n.a.ls, bless this chase!
LEADER I see. Yea; I see.
Have I not welcomed thee?
AGAVE (_very calmly and peacefully_) He was young in the wildwood Without nets I caught him!
Nay; look without fear on The Lion; I have ta'en him!
LEADER Where in the wildwood?
Whence have ye brought him?
AGAVE Kithaeron... .
LEADER Kithaeron?
AGAVE The Mountain hath slain him!
LEADER Who first came nigh him?
AGAVE
I, I, 'tis confessed!
And they named me there by him Agave the Blessed!
LEADER Who was next in the band on him?
AGAVE The daughters....
LEADER The daughters?
AGAVE Of Cadmus laid hand on him.
But the swift hand that slaughters Is mine; mine is the praise!
Bless ye this day of days!
[_The_ LEADER _tries to speak, but is not able;_ AGAVE _begins gently stroking the head_.]
AGAVE Gather ye now to the feast!
LEADER Feast!--O miserable!
AGAVE See, it falls to his breast, Curling and gently tressed, The hair of the Wild Bull's crest-- The young steer of the fell!
LEADER Most like a beast of the wild That head, those locks defiled.
AGAVE (_lifting up the head, more excitedly_) He wakened his Mad Ones, A Chase-G.o.d, a wise G.o.d!
He sprang them to seize this!
He preys where his band preys.
LEADER (_brooding, with horror_) In the trail of thy Mad Ones Thou tearest thy prize, G.o.d!
AGAVE Dost praise it?
LEADER I praise this?
AGAVE Ah, soon shall the land praise!
LEADER And Pentheus, O Mother, Thy child?
AGAVE He shall cry on My name as none other, Bless the spoils of the Lion!
LEADER Aye, strange is thy treasure!
AGAVE And strange was the taking!
LEADER Thou art glad?
AGAVE Beyond measure; Yea, glad in the breaking Of dawn upon all this land, By the prize, the prize of my hand!
LEADER Show them to all the land, unhappy one, The trophy of this deed that thou hast done!
AGAVE Ho, all ye men that round the citadel And s.h.i.+ning towers of ancient Thebe dwell, Come! Look upon this prize, this lion's spoil, That we have taken--yea, with our own toil, We, Cadmus' daughters! Not with leathern-set Thessalian javelins, not with hunter's net, Only white arms and swift hands' bladed fall Why make ye much ado, and boast withal Your armourers' engines? See, these palms were bare That caught the angry beast, and held, and tare The limbs of him! ... Father! ... Go, bring to me My father! ... Aye, and Pentheus, where is he, My son? He shall set up a ladder-stair Against this house, and in the triglyphs there Nail me this lion's head, that gloriously I bring ye, having slain him--I, even I!
[_She goes through the crowd towards the Castle, showing the head and looking for a place to hang it. Enter from the Mountain_ CADMUS, _with attendants, bearing the body of_ PENTHEUS _on a bier_.]
CADMUS On, with your awful burden. Follow me, Thralls, to his house, whose body grievously With many a weary search at last in dim Kithaeron's glens I found, torn limb from limb, And through the intervening forest weed Scattered.--Men told me of my daughters' deed, When I was just returned within these walls, With grey Teiresias, from the Baccha.n.a.ls.
And back I hied me to the hills again To seek my murdered son. There saw I plain Actaeon's mother, ranging where he died, Autonoe; and Ino by her side, Wandering ghastly in the pine-copses.
Agave was not there. The rumour is She cometh fleet-foot hither.--Ah! 'Tis true; A sight I scarce can bend mine eyes unto.
AGAVE (_turning from the Palace and seeing him_) My father, a great boast is thine this hour.
Thou hast begotten daughters, high in power And valiant above all mankind--yea, all Valiant, though none like me! I have let fall The shuttle by the loom, and raised my hand For higher things, to slay from out thy land Wild beasts! See, in mine arms I bear the prize, That nailed above these portals it may rise To show what things thy daughters did! Do thou Take it, and call a feast. Proud art thou now And highly favoured in our valiancy!
Hippolytus; The Bacchae Part 18
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Hippolytus; The Bacchae Part 18 summary
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