Bakkhai:
When shall I
set my white foot
in the allnight dances,
when shall I
lift my throat
to the dewy air,
like a fawn
skylarking
in the
green joy of the meadow —
she runs
free
from the hunt and the hunter,
she leaps
over the net
as he cries up his dogs,
with storms
in her feet
she
sprints
the plain,
races
the river
flies
down
to the shadows that deepen the trees,
overjoyed!
at the sheer absence of men.
What is wisdom?
What feels better
than to hold your hand over the head of your enemy?
Who
does
not
love
this
feeling?
It moves
so slowly
– the force of the gods —
yet it is absolutely guaranteed
to arrive.
To punish
human folly
and the arrogance
of a private theology.
Ingenious
how a god can hide
and then
leap out
on the unholy man.
To think or act outside the law is never right.
But this is valid —
this thing we call the daimonic
ancient,
elemental,
fixed in law and custom,
grown out of nature itself.
What is wisdom?
What feels better
than to bring your hand down on the head of your enemy?
Who
does
not
love
this
feeling?
Happy is he who escapes the winter sea,
finds a harbour,
prevails over pain.
Still, one man will always outdo another in wealth or power.
And hopes
are countless, they come on like waves,
rising
and
falling.
Just be happy,
day to day:
this I call blessed.
[enter Dionysos]
Dionysos:
You! Pentheus! I’m talking to you!
Still so keen on seeing sights you should not see?
Still hungry for mischief?
Come out and show me your Bakkhic get-up,
your maenad-suit,
your costume for spying on women.
[enter Pentheus]
You look like one of Kadmos’ daughters!
Pentheus:
You know, I seem to see two suns.
And a double Thebes, each with all its seven gates.
And you look like a bull leading me in procession —
you’ve got horns growing out your head!
Were you perhaps an animal all the time?
You’re certainly a bull at the moment.
Dionysos:
The god is with us now.
He’s come round, he’s on our side.
You’re seeing as you ought to see.
Pentheus:
How do I look?
Is this the way Ino stands?
Or Agave my mother?
Dionysos:
I feel I’m seeing them in person.
But here, this bit of hair is out of place —
I had it tucked under, did I not?
Pentheus:
I was tossing my head back and forth like a maenad inside the house.
Dionysos:
I’ll redo it — I’m here to serve you. Hold still.
Pentheus:
Oh lovely. You redo it. I’m in your hands.
Dionysos:
And your belt is loose, your pleats uneven,
the hem’s slipping down around your ankles.
Pentheus:
Is it? Possibly, on the right anyway.
Over here it hangs straight, so far as I can see.
Dionysos:
You’ll think me your best friend I’m sure,
when you see how sober and sensible the Bakkhai are,
not what you expect.
Pentheus:
Do I take the thyrsos in my right hand
or like this,
to look really Bakkhic?
Dionysos:
Right hand.
Raise it in time with your right foot.
I’m so glad you had a change of heart!
Pentheus:
I’ll be able to lift Mt Kithairon on my bare shoulders,
Bakkhic women and all, am I right?
Dionysos:
No problem. Your whole attitude before was unsound
but not anymore!
Pentheus:
Should we take crowbars?
Or shall I just put my shoulder under the mountain and shove?
Dionysos:
Be careful though, you musn’t do damage to the temples of the Nymphs
or the places where Pan plays his pipes.
Pentheus:
Good point. Brute force is out. Doesn’t work with women anyhow.
I’ll hide in the pines.
Dionysos:
You’ll hide in the hiding place a man should have
who comes to spy on the Bakkhai.
Pentheus:
You know, I can see them in my mind’s eye,
little birds in the bracken,
all tangled up in sex.
Dionysos:
Well that’s your mission, right?
Catch them at it!
Unless you’re caught first.
Pentheus:
Take me right through the middle of the city:
I’m the only man bold enough to do this.
Dionysos:
Yes, you alone bear this burden on behalf of Thebes.
A contest awaits you: the contest of your destiny.
Follow me.
I am your guide and saviour.
Someone else will bring you home.
Pentheus:
My mother!
Dionysos:
You’ll be conspicuous to all.
Pentheus:
That’s my hope.
Dionysos:
You’ll be carried aloft.
Pentheus:
What a luxury!
Dionysos:
In the arms of your mother.
Pentheus:
Now you’re spoiling me!
Dionysos:
Indeed I am.
Pentheus:
But I deserve it.
Dionysos:
You are an amazing strange man
and amazing strange experiences await you.
Your celebrity will reach high heaven.
Open your arms, Agave,
open your arms, daughters of Kadmos!
I am leading this young man to a great contest, to his ultimate performance.
And who will win?
I will win.
Bromios and I.
As for the rest: soon enough obvious.
[exit Pentheus]