All those I have caught are kept safe with their hands tied by guards in the state prison. The others, who still roam on the mountain, I shall hunt out including my own mother, Agave, and her sisters, Ino and Autonoe, the mother of Actaeon. And when I have bound them fast in iron chains, I shall soon put an end to this evil Bacchism. They say too that a stranger has come here from Lydia, some wizard and sorcerer, with scented hair and golden curls, who has the wine-dark charms of Aphrodite in his eyes. He spends both night and day in the company of young girls, enticing them with his Bacchic mysteries. If I catch him here in my palace, I'll cut off his head and put a stop to his thyrsus-pounding and head-tossi,ng. That fellow is the one who claims that Dionysus is a god, who was once sewn up in the thigh of Zeus, when he was in fact destroyed by the fiery blast of lightning along with his mother, because she lied and said that Zeus had been her husband. Whoever this stranger may be, does he not deserve to hang for such hybris? But here is another miracle-I see the prophet Tiresias in a dappled fawnskin and my mother's father, a very funny sight, playing the Bacchant with a wand of fennel reed. I refuse, sir, to stand by and see you behave so senselessly in your old age. You are my grandfather, won't you toss away your garland of ivy and rid your hand of the thyrsus? You persuaded him, Tiresias. Why? By introducing this new divinity among mankind do you hope that he will afford you an additional source of income from your omens and your sacrifices? If it were not for your gray hairs, you would not escape being bound and imprisoned along with the Bacchae for initiating evil rites. As far as women are concerned, I maintain that whenever the gleam of wine is in their feasts, there can be nothing further that is wholesome in their ceremonies.

CHORUS: What sacrilege, sir! Do you not have respect for the gods and Cadmus, who sowed the seeds from which the earth-born men arose; are you the son of Echion, who was one of them, bringing shame on your own family? TIRESIAS: Whenever a wise man takes a good theme for his argument, it is no great task to speak well. You seem to be a man of intelligence from the glibness of your tongue, but there is no good sense in your words. A headstrong man who is powerful and eloquent proves to be a bad citizen because he is wanting in intelligence. This new divinity whom you laugh at-I could not begin to tell you how great he will become throughout Hellas. For, young man, there are two divinities who are foremost among mankind: the goddess Demeter (she is the Earth, call her whatever name you wish), who provides mortals with the nourishment of dry and solid food; and Dionysus, the son of Semele, who comes next and who discovered and brought to men the moist and liquid drink of the grape, as a counterpart to the food of Demeter. His blessing releases suffering mortals from their pain, when they take their fill of the juice of the vine; he gives them sleep and makes them forget their daily troubles, and they have no other cure for their cares. He, being a god, is poured in libation to the gods, and so through him mankind receives all good things. Do you laugh at the legend that this god was sewn up in the thigh of Zeus? I shall instruct you in its basic truths. When Zeus snatched Dionysus out of the fiery lightning and brought the infant to Olympus as a god, Hera wished to throw him out of heaven, but Zeus opposed her and devised a plan that was worthy of a god. He broke off a portion of the sky that surrounds the earth and formed a likeness of the child and gave it to Hera as a hostage; he gave the real Dionysus to nymphs to bring up.

Thus Zeus saved the child from the jealousy of Hera. Now the word for hostage [homeros] and the word for thigh [meros] are similar, and so men confused the two words and instead of telling how the likeness of the god was given as a hostage to Hera, they invented the story about Zeus's thigh. And this god is a prophet, for Bacchic frenzy and madness hold a great deal of prophetic power. Whenever the god enters wholly into a person's body, he makes the one possessed capable of foretelling the future. This god also shares in a certain portion of the power of Ares, for when an army, in battle dress and formation, flees through fear before ever lifting a spear, this too is a madness that comes from Dionysus. Furthermore, some day you will see him on the rocks of Delphi, leaping over the plateau between the two mountain peaks amid torches, brandishing and striking the Bacchic wand, a great god throughout Hellas. Pentheus, believe me: do not be overly confident that force is all-powerful in human affairs, and do not think that you are wise when the attitude that you hold is sick. Receive the god into the city, pour him libations, crown your head, and celebrate his worship. Tiresias goes on to argue that self-control is a question of one's own nature and character. Dionysus is not immoral but rather nonmoral; he cannot corrupt a chaste woman or restrain a lewd one. Besides, the god (just like Pentheus himself) is happy to receive the homage of his people. Cadmus reinforces Tiresias' appeal for reason and control. Pentheus must be sick to defy the god, and even if he were right and Dionysus were an impostor, he should be willing to compromise and lie in order to save the honor of Semele and the whole family. But Pentheus is young and adamant; he accuses his peers of folly and madness and directs one of his henchmen to smash Tiresias' place of augury (after all has he not himself desecrated his own priestly office?) and to hunt down the effeminate foreigner who has corrupted the women of Thebes.

A guard brings in the exotic stranger who has come with his new religion (in reality he is Dionysus himself), and Euripides presents the first of three interviews between the god and the man which turn upon the ironic reversal of their positions. Pentheus, believing himself triumphant, is gradually but inevitably caught in the net prepared for him by Dionysus. The calm and sure strength of the god plays beautifully upon the neurotic impulsiveness of the mortal (433-5 18) : GUARD: Pentheus, here we are, having hunted the quarry you sent us after, and our efforts have not been unsuccessful. But we found this wild beast tame-he did not attempt to flee, but gave me his hands willingly; he did not even turn pale but kept the flush of wine in his cheeks. With a smile he bade me tie him up and lead him away and waited for me, thus making my task easy. I was taken aback and said: "0 stranger, I do not arrest you of my own free will but at the orders of Pentheus who has sent me." About the Bacchae whom you seized and bound and imprisoned- they are freed and have gone and dance about the glens calling on their god, Bacchus. The bands fell from their feet of their own accord and the locks on the door gave way untouched by mortal hands. This man who has come to our city of Thebes is full of many miraculous wonders-and what else will happen is your concern, not mine. PENTHEUS: Untie his hands. Now that he is in my trap, he is not nimble enough to escape me. Well, stranger, you are not unattractive physically-at least to women-and, after all, your purpose in Thebes is to lure them. Your flowing locks that ripple down your cheeks so seductively prove that you are no wrestler. Your fair complexion too is cultivated by avoiding the rays of the sun and by keeping in the shade so that you may ensnare Aphrodite with your beauty. But first tell me where you come from. DIONYSUS: I can answer your question easily and simply. I am sure you have heard of the mountain of Tmolus with its flowers. PENTHEUS: I have; its range encircles the city of Sardis. DIONYSUS: I am from there; Lydia is my fatherland. PENTHEUS: HOW is it that you bring these mysteries of yours to Hellas? DIONYSUS: Dionysus, the son of Zeus, has directed me. PENTHEUS: IS there a Zeus in Lydia who begets new gods? DIONYSUS: NO, he is the same Zeus who wedded Semele here in Thebes. PENTHEUS: Did he bend you to his service, an apparition in the night, or did you really see him with your own eyes? DIONYSUS: We saw each other face to face and he gave me his secrets. PENTHEUS: What is the nature of these secrets of yours? DIONYSUS: It is not lawful for the uninitiated to know them. PENTHEUS: What advantage is there for those who do participate? DIONYSUS: It is not right for you to learn this, but the knowledge is worth much. PENTHEUS: Your answer is clever, designed to make me want to hear more. DIONYSUS: An impious man is abhorred by the god and his mysteries. PENTHEUS: YOU say that you saw the god clearly; well then what did he look like? DIONYSUS: He looked as he wished; I had no control over his appearance. PENTHEUS: Once again you have sidetracked me cleverly with an answer that says nothing. DIONYSUS: The words of the wise seem foolish to the ignorant. PENTHEUS: Have you come here first of all to introduce your god? DIONYSUS: Every foreigner already dances his rituals. PENTHEUS: Yes, of course, for they are far inferior to Hellenes. DIONYSUS: Customs differ, but in these rituals the foreigners are superior. PENTHEUS: DO you perform your holy rites by night or by day? DIONYSUS: By night for the most part; darkness adds to the solemnity. PENTHEUS: For women it is treacherous and corrupt. DIONYSUS: One may find, if one looks for it, shameful behavior by daylight too. PENTHEUS: YOU must be punished for your evil sophistries. DIONYSUS: And you for your ignorance and blasphemy against the god. PENTHEUS: HOW bold our Bacchant is and how facile his retorts. DIONYSUS: What punishment must I suffer? What terrible thing will you do to me? PENTHEUS: First I shall cut your pretty locks. DIONYSUS: My hair is sacred; it belongs to the god. PENTHEUS: Hand over your thyrsus then. DIONYSUS: Take it away from me yourself. I carry it for Dionysus; it really belongs to him. PENTHEUS: I shall close you up in a prison. DIONYSUS: The god himself will free me, whenever I wish. PENTHEUS: AS you call on him when you take your stand amid your Bacchic women, I suppose. DIONYSUS: Even now he is near at hand and sees what I endure. PENTHEUS: Where is he? My eyes cannot see him. DIONYSUS: Here with me. But you in your blasphemy cannot perceive him for yourself. PENTHEUS: Guards, seize him; he is making a fool of me and of all Thebes. DIONYSUS: I tell you not to bind me-I am the sane one, not you. PENTHEUS: My orders are to bind you and I have the upper hand. DIONYSUS: YOU do not know what life you live, what you do, or who you are. PENTHEUS: I am Pentheus, the son of Agave; my father is Echion, DIONYSUS: Your name, Pentheus, which means sorrow, is appropriate for the doom that will be yours. PENTHEUS: Get out of here-Guards, imprison him in the neighboring stables where he may find his secret darkness-do your mystic dances there. And the women you have brought with you as accomplices in your evil I shall either keep as slaves myself to work the loom or sell them to others-this will stop their hands from beating out their din on tambourines. DIONYSUS: I will go, since what is not destined to be, I am not destined to suffer. But Dionysus, who you say does not exist, will exact vengeance for your insolence. For as you do me wrong and imprison me, you do the same to him.

Pentheus confidently follows Dionysus into the prison. But the god miraculously frees himself amid fire, earthquake, and the destruction of the entire palace. He explains to the chorus how he has escaped from Pentheus' evil clutches, maintaining throughout the fiction of his role as the god's disciple. Quite typically Dionysus is associated with or transformed into an animal (616-36): DIONYSUS: I have made a fool of Pentheus-he thought that he was tying me up, yet he did not so much as lay a finger on me but fed on empty hopes. In the chamber where he led me a prisoner, he found a bull. It was the knees and hoofs of this animal that he tried to bind, fuming and raging, biting his lips, and dripping with sweat, while I sat calmly close by his side and watched. In this crisis Bacchus arrived and made the building shake and raised a flame up from the tomb of his mother. When Pentheus saw it he thought that the palace was on fire and rushed this way and that, calling on the servants to bring water. The entire household joined in the work but their toil was for nothing. Pentheus, thinking that I had got away, abandoned his efforts and seized a dark sword and rushed inside the palace in pursuit. Then Dionysus created an illusion in the courtyard (I am telling you what I believe happened) and Pentheus made a dash for it, jabbing and stabbing at the sunny air, imagining he was butchering me. Bacchus had even greater humiliation for him than this. He razed the whole palace to the ground; all lies shattered for him as he beholds the most bitter results of my imprisonment. Worn out and exhausted, he has dropped his sword; a mere mortal, he dared to go to battle against a god. As Dionysus coolly finishes his account, Pentheus appears, bewildered, angry, and, despite his experience, still relentlessly aggressive. A brief exchange between the two is interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, who reports what he and others have seen of the Bacchic women and their worship in the mountains; at first a calm, peaceful scene full of miracles, then madness and bloodshed when the interlopers are detected-a grim foreshadowing of what is in store for Pentheus (678-774): MESSENGER: I had just reached the hill country with my pasturing herds by the time that the sun had risen and was warming the earth with its rays. And I saw the women, who had arranged themselves in three groups; Autonoe led one, your mother, Agave, the second, and Ino, the third. All were stretched out asleep, some reclined on beds of fir, others rested their heads on oak leaves, having flung themselves down at random but with modesty and they were not, as you said they would be, intoxicated with wine and the music of the flute, bent on satisfying their lust in solitary places. When your mother heard the sounds of our horned cattle she stood up in the midst of the Bacchae, and cried out to rouse them from their sleep, and they threw off the heavy slumber from their eyes and jumped up-amazing in their orderliness, young and old (many still unwed).

The first thing they did was to loosen their hair to their shoulders and tie up their fawnskins if any of the fastenings had come loose; and they made a belt for the dappled fur with snakes that licked their cheeks. Some held in their arms the young of the wild, a gazelle or wolf cubs, and those who had left their newborn babes at home gave them white milk from breasts that were still full. And they put on crowns of ivy, oak, and flowering vine. One took her thyrsus and struck it against a rock, and from it a gush of dewy water welled up; another hit the solid earth with her wand and from the spot the god sent forth a spring of wine. Those who thirsted for milk scraped the earth with their finger tips and produced white streams; and from each thyrsus, wreathed in ivy, dripped sweet drops of honey. And so, if you had been there to see these things, you would have invoked with prayers the god whom' you now blame. We herdsmen and shepherds gathered together to discuss and argue about the strange and wondrous actions. One of the group, who always goes into town and has a way with words, spoke to us all: "You who inhabit the sacred mountain heights, how would you like to hunt down Agave, the mother of Pentheus, in her revels and do the king a favor?" What he said seemed good to us, so we hid ourselves in a leafy thicket and waited in ambush. At the appointed time they began their Bacchic revels, shaking their thyrsus and calling on the god, the son of Zeus, with one voice, "Iacchus, Bromius!" The whole mountain and animals joined in their ecstasy and there was nothing that remained unmoved by the dance. It happened that Agave as she leaped and ran came close to me, and I leaped out of the ambush where I had hidden myself, bent on seizing her. But she cried aloud: "0 my swift-running hounds, we are being hunted by these men; so follow me, follow, armed with your thyrsus in your hands." And so we fled and escaped being torn into pieces by the Bacchae, but with their bare hands they attacked our cattle grazing on the grass. You could see one of them wrenching apart a bellowing cow, its udders full. Others ripped apart the calves and you could see ribs and cloven hoofs being scattered high and low, and from the pines the pieces hung dripping with blood. Bulls, arrogant before as they raged with their horns, were laid low, dragged bodily to the ground by the countless hands of girls, and their flesh was stripped from their bodies more quickly than you, 0 king, could wink your eyes. Like birds propelled aloft by the speed of their course, the Bacchae ranged across the stretch of plain along the stream of the Asopus, which affords the Thebans a rich harvest. Like a hostile army they descended upon the villages of Hysiae and Erythrae, nestled low on the slopes of Cithaeron, and devastated them.