THE BACCHÆ.[1]
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Euripides and Buckley, Theodore Alois
BAC. But you will shed blood if you join battle with the Bacchæ.
PEN. True; we must first go and see.
BAC. That is wiser at least than to hunt evils with evils.
PEN. And how shall I go through the city escaping the notice of the Cadmeans?
BAC. We will go by deserted roads, and I will guide you.
PEN. Every thing is better than for the Bacchæ to mock me.
BAC. We will go into the house and consider what seems best.
PEN. We can do what we like; my part is completely prepared. Let us go; for either I will go bearing arms, or I will be guided by your counsels.
BAC. O women! the man is in the toils,[44] and he will come to the Bacchæ, where, dying, he will pay the penalty. Now, Bacchus, 'tis thine office, for you are not far off. Let us punish him; but first drive him out of his wits, inspiring vain frenzy, since, being in his right mind, he will not be willing to put on a female dress, but driving him out of his senses he will put it on; and I wish him to furnish laughter to the Thebans, being led in woman's guise through the city, after[45] his former threats, with which he was terrible. But I will go to fit on Pentheus the dress, which, having taken, he shall die, slain by his mother's hand. And he shall know Bacchus, the son of Jupiter, who is in fact to men at once the most terrible, and the mildest of deities.[46]
CHOR. Shall I move my white foot in the night-long dance, honoring Bacchus, exposing my neck to the dewy air, sporting like a fawn in the verdant delights of the mead, when it has escaped a fearful chase beyond the watch of the well-woven nets, (and the huntsman cheering hastens on the course of his hounds,) and with toil like the swift storm[47] rushes along the plain that skirts the river, exulting in the solitude apart from men, and in the thickets of the shady-foliaged wood? What is wisdom, what is a more glorious gift from the Gods among mortals than to hold one's hand on the heads of one's enemies? What is good is always pleasant; divine strength is roused with difficulty, but still is sure, and it chastises those mortals who honor folly, and do not extol the Gods in their insane mind. But the Gods cunningly conceal the long foot[48] of time, and hunt the impious man; for it is not right to determine or plan any thing beyond the laws: for it is a light expense to deem that that has power whatever is divine, and that what has been law for a long time has its origin in nature. What is wisdom, what is a more noble gift from the Gods among men, than to hold one's hand on the heads of one's enemies? what is honorable is always pleasant. Happy is he who has escaped from the wave of the sea, and arrived in harbor.[49] Happy, too, is he who has overcome his labors; and one surpasses another in different ways, in wealth and power.
Still are there innumerable hopes to innumerable men, some result in wealth to mortals, and some fail, but I call him happy whose life is happy day by day.
BAC. You, who are eager to see what you ought not, and hasty to do a deed not of haste, I mean Pentheus, come forth before the house, be seen by me, having the costume of a woman, of a frantic Bacchant, as a spy upon your mother and her company! In appearance, you are like one of the daughters of Cadmus.
PEN. And indeed I think I see two suns,[50] and twin Thebes, and seven-gated city; and you seem to guide me, being like a bull, and horns seem to grow on your head. But were you ever a beast? for you look like a bull.
BAC. The God accompanies us, not propitious formerly, but now at truce with us. You see what you should see.
PEN. How do I look? Does not my standing seem like that of Ino, or of Agave, my mother?
BAC. I seem to see them as I behold you; but this lock of hair of yours is out of its place, not as I dressed it beneath the turban.
PEN. Moving it within doors backward and forward, and practicing Bacchic revelry, I disarranged it.
BAC. But we who ought to wait upon you will again rearrange it. But hold up your head.
PEN. Look, do you arrange it, for we depend on you.
BAC. And your girdle is loosened, and the fringes of your garments do not extend regularly round your legs.
PEN. They seem so to me, too, about the right foot at least; but on this side the robe sits well along the leg.
BAC. Will you not think me the first of your friends when, contrary to your expectation, you see the Bacchæ acting modestly?
PEN. But shall I be more like a Bacchant holding the thyrsus in my right hand, or in this?
BAC. You should [hold it in] your right hand, and raise it at the same time with your right foot; and I praise you for having changed your mind.
PEN. Could I bear on my shoulders the glens of Cithæron, Bacchæ and all?
BAC. You could if you were willing; but you had your mind unsound before; but now you have such as you ought.
PEN. Shall we bring levers, or shall I tear them up with my hands, putting my shoulder or arm under the summits?
BAC. No, lest you ruin the habitations of the Nymphs, and the seats of Pan where he plays his pipes.
PEN. You speak well,—it is not with strength we should conquer women; but I will hide my body among the pines.
BAC. Hide you the hiding in which you should be hidden, coming as a crafty spy on the Mænads.
PEN. And, indeed, I think to catch them in the thickets, like birds in the sweet nets of beds.
BAC. You go then as a watch for this very thing; and perhaps you will catch them, if you be not caught first.
PEN. Conduct me through the middle of the Theban land, for I am the only man of them who would dare these things.
BAC. You alone labor for this city, you alone; therefore the labors, which are meet,[51] await you. But follow me, I am your saving guide, some one else will guide you away from thence.
PEN. Yes, my mother.
BAC. Being remarkable among all.
PEN. For this purpose do I come.
BAC. You will depart being borne.[52]
PEN. You allude to my delicacy.
BAC. In the hands of your mother.