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The Bacchae

Madeleine Guy, Author

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viii

Someone, quickly, go
now, to the place where he observes his birds.
Take a lever, turn the whole thing over, demolish it,
throw his sacred garlands to the storming winds.
There's no way I can hurt him more than that.
The rest of you, patrol the city.
That girlish stranger who's introduced this new plague
and fouled our beds - I want him. Track him down
and when you find him, tie him up, bring him here
so he can get what he deserves, death by stoning.
He'll rue the Bacchic orgies he'll find in Thebes.

Exit guards. 

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vii (18 March 2015)
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ix


TIRESIAS

You poor fool. You don't know the meaning
of your own words. Before, you were insane,
now you're raving. Come, Cadmus, we'll pray for him.
May the god have pity on the wild man and may
he not inflict reprisals on the city.
Come, we'll support one another.
Hold your thyrsus. Two old men,
we mustn't fall, we would be disgraced. 
We must serve Bacchus, son of Zeus, and so we will.
Cadmus, beware that Pentheus doesn't make your house
repent. This isn't prophecy, but fact:
the fool speaks foolishness.

Exit Pentheus to the Palace. Exit Cadmus and Tiresias to Cithaeron.

Posted on 18 March 2015, 9:19 am by Madeleine Guy  |  Permalink

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