Low-nestling,—swooping on them like to foes,
This way and that way hurling all their goods,
Yea, from the houses snatching forth the babes.
Whatso they laid upon their shoulders, clung 755
Unfastened; nothing to the dark earth fell,—
Nor brass nor iron,—and upon their hair
They carried fire unscorched. The folk, in wrath
To be by Bacchanals pillaged, rushed to arms:
Whereupon, King, was this strange sight to see:— 760
From them the steel-tipt javelin drew not blood,
But they from their hands darting thyrsus-staves
Dealt wound on wound; and they, the women, turned
To flight men, for some God's hand wrought therein.
Then drew they back to whence their feet had come, 765
To those same founts the God sent up for them,
And washed the gore, while from their cheeks the snakes
Were licking with their tongues the blood-gouts clean.
Wherefore, whoe'er this God be, O my lord,
Receive him in this city; for, beside 770
His other might, they tell of him, I hear,
That he gave men the grief-assuaging vine.
When wine is no more found, then Love is not,
Nor any joy beside is left to men.
Chorus.
Words wherein freedom rings I dread to speak 775
Before the King; yet shall my thought be voiced:
Dionysus is not less than any God.
Pentheus.
Lo, it is on us, kindling like a flame,
The Bacchanal outrage, our reproach through Greece!
