The Bacchae of Euripides - LightNovelsOnl.com
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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.
