cxxi
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<title property="dc:title">cxxi</title>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" />
<link rel="canonical" href="http://scalar.usc.edu/works/bacchae/cxxi" />
</head>
<body>
<div class="left">
<div id="scalarnav"></div>
</div>
<div class="pathnavs">
<div class="path_nav_path current_path">
<div class="path_left"><div class="path_nav_color path_nav_color_primary path_nav_color_expand_height" style ="background:#450b66"></div><a class="path_title_link" href="http://scalar.usc.edu/works/bacchae/play" title="by Euripides">The Bacchae</a><span style="white-space:nowrap;">, page 121 of 127</span></div>
<div class="content" id="content_wrapper">
<h4 class="content_title">cxxi</h4>
<div id="content"></div>
<div>
</div><div>Enter Cadmus, with attendants carrying a litter with the remains of Pentheus.</div><div>
</div><div>
</div><div>CADMUS</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Come this way, please... Put the dreadful burden
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
which was Pentheus here, before the palace.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
I've brought the body back: I searched forever.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
It was in the folds of Cithaeron, torn to shreds,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
scattered through the impenetrable forest,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
no two parts of him in any single spot.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
When they described the atrocity my daughters
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
had committed, I'd returned to the walls of the town
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
with old Tiresias: we'd been with the Bacchae.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
I turned back again, up to the mountain,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
where I gathered the body of this boy,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
murdered by the Maenads. I saw Autonoe there,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Aristaeus' wife, the mother of poor Actaeon,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
and I saw Ino, both of them, still in the thickets,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
pitiful women, still stung with frenzy, still insane.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Now someone has told me that Agave,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
still possessed by the god, has come to Thebes...
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
And they were right, I see her,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
a dismal sight to have to behold.
</div><div>
</div><div>
</div><div>AGAVE</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Father, you can boast now; the daughters you sired
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
are more noble than any other mortal's.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
I speak of all us, but especially me,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
who have left the loom and shuttle and risen
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
to greatness: hunting wild creatures with my hands.
</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Look what I have here in my arms:
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
a trophy for the palace. Here, Father,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
take it in your hands, glory in my kill.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Invite your friends to feast, for you
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
are blessed, blessed by our accomplishments.
</div><div>
</div><div>
</div><div>CADMUS</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
I cannot watch this. This is grief that has no measure.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
What your poor hands accomplished was butchery.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
A lovely victim you have murdered for the gods,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
whom you call for Thebes and me to celebrate.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Anguish for you, anguish, too, for me.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
With justice, but with too much severity,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Lord Bromius, our own blood, has ruined us.
</div><div>
</div><div>
</div><div>AGAVE</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Complaining, scowling: old age makes men sour!
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Would my son at least could be a happy hunter,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
like his mother, when he goes out on the chase
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
with his young friends from Thebes.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
But all he does is struggle with the god.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Father, he needs talking to, by you.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Someone call him, let me seem him.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Let him see his mother, Agave the blessed.
</div><div>
</div><div>
</div><div>CADMUS</div><div>
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
Child, if consciousness should come to you
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
of what you've done, how grievously you'll suffer.
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
If you could pass your life in your present mind,
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
we'd never call you happy but at least
</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>
you wouldn't know how miserable you are.
</div>
</body>
</html>
| Previous page on path | The Bacchae, page 121 of 127 | Next page on path |
Discussion of "cxxi"
Add your voice to this discussion.
Checking your signed in status ...