Part 17 (1/2)

CHORAL INTERLUDE I

Shocked at such defiance of heaven the Chorus invoke Sanct.i.ty, crowned as G.o.ddess in the nether world, to hear the awful words of Pentheus, uttered against the immortal son of Semele, first and best of G.o.ds, ruler of the flower-crowned feast, and the dance's jocund strife, and the laughter, and the sparkling wine-cup, and the sweet sleep that follows the festival. Sorrow closes the lot of such aweless, unbridled madness: stability is for the calmly reverent life, knitting whole houses in sweet domestic harmony. Clasp the present of brief life: no grasping after a bright future with far-fetched wisdom. Oh, for the lands where the graces and sweet desire have their haunts, and young loves soothe the heart with tender guile: fit regions for the Baccha.n.a.ls, whose joy is Peace--wealth-giver to rich and poor. Away with stern austerity: hail the homely wisdom of the mult.i.tude. {439}

EPISODE II

An officer brings in Dionysus as prisoner; he has yielded himself without resistance, while as for the imprisoned wors.h.i.+ppers their chains have fallen off spontaneous, and they are away to the revels on the mountains. In long-drawn parallel dialogue Pentheus questions the Stranger--struck with his beauty though he be. Dionysus calmly answers to every point, but allows the orgies are secret and must not be revealed to the uninitiated. The King threatens in vain.

_Pen._ First I will clip away those soft bright locks.

_Dio._ My locks are holy, dedicate to my G.o.d.

_Pen._ Next, give thou me that thyrsus in thy hand.

_Dio._ Take it thyself; 'tis Dionysus' wand.

_Pen._ I'll bind thy body in strong iron chains.

_Dio._ My G.o.d himself will loose them when he will.

_Pen._ When thou invok'st him 'mid thy Baccha.n.a.ls.

_Dio._ Even now he is present, he beholds me now.

_Pen._ Where is he then? mine eyes perceive him not.

_Dio._ Near me: the impious eyes may not discern him.

The king relies on his superior strength.

_Dio._ Thou knowest not where thou art or what thou art.

_Pen._ Pentheus, Agave's son, my sire Echion.

_Dio._ Thou hast a name whose very sound is woe.

Dionysus is removed a prisoner to the palace of Pentheus, while the latter retires to prepare measures against the Maenads.

CHORAL INTERLUDE II

The Chorus, addressing the landscape before them, expostulate with the sacred stream in which the infant G.o.d was dipped for not accepting the divinity whose mystic name is 'Twice-born.' They call upon Dionysus to see them from Olympus, his rapt prophets at strife with dark necessity, and, golden wand in hand, to come to their rescue against the threats of the proud dragon-brood. They are wondering what fair land of song may be holding their sacred leader, when cries from within put an end to the ode. {582}

EPISODE III

In wild lyric s.n.a.t.c.hes shouts are interchanged between Dionysus within and groups of the disordered Chorus, bringing out the tumultuous scene--the earth rocking beneath them, sounds of cras.h.i.+ng masonry, capitals of pillars hurled through the air; then _by the machinery of the hemicyclium the whole scene left of the center disappears and is replaced by a tableau representing Pentheus' palace in ruins, and the smouldering tomb of Semele surmounted by bright flame. From the ruins steps Dionysus, unharmed and free, the metre breaking into accelerated rhythm_. {613}

_Dio._ O, ye Barbarian women. Thus prostrate in dismay; Upon the earth ye've fallen! See ye not as ye may, How Bacchus Pentheus' palace In wrath hath shaken down?

Rise up! rise up! take courage--Shake off that trembling swoon.

_Chor._ O light that goodliest s.h.i.+nest Over our mystic rite, In state forlorn we saw thee--Saw with what deep affright!

_Dio._ How to despair ye yielded As I boldly entered in To Pentheus, as if captured, into that fatal gin.

_Chor._ How could I less? Who guards us If thou shouldst come to woe?

But how wast thou delivered From thy unG.o.dly foe?

_Dio._ Myself myself delivered With ease and effort slight.

_Chor._ Thy hands had he not bound them In halters strong and tight?

_Dio._ 'Twas even then I mocked him: He thought me in his chain; He touched me not nor reached me; His idle thoughts were vain!

In the stable stood a heifer Where he thought he had me bound; Round the beast's knees his cords And cloven hoofs he wound, Wrath-breathing, from his body The sweat fell like a flood, He bit his lips in fury, While I beside who stood Looked on in unmoved quiet.

As at that instant come, Shook Bacchus the strong palace, And on his mother's tomb Flames kindled. When he saw it, on fire the palace deeming, Hither he rushed and thither. For 'Water, water,' screaming; And every slave 'gan labor, But labored all in vain, The toil he soon abandoned. As though I had fled amain He rushed into the palace: In his hand the dark sword gleamed.

Then as it seemed, great Bromius--I say but, as it seemed-- In the hall a bright light kindled. On that he rushed, and there, As slaying me in vengeance, Stood stabbing the thin air.

But then the avenging Bacchus Wrought new calamities; From roof to base that palace In smouldering ruin lies.