Liber adest, festisque fremunt ululatibus agri:
turba ruit, mixtaeque viris matresque nurusque
vulgusque proceresque ignota ad sacra feruntur. 530
‘Quis furor, anguigenae, proles Mavortia, vestras
attonuit mentes?’ Pentheus ait; ‘aerane tantum
aere repulsa valent et adunco tibia cornu
et magicae fraudes, ut, quos non bellicus ensis,
non tuba terruerit, non strictis agmina telis, 535
femineae voces et mota insania vino
obscenique greges et inania tympana vincant?
vosne, senes, mirer, qui longa per aequora vecti
hac Tyron, hac profugos posuistis sede penates,
nunc sinitis sine Marte capi? vosne, acrior aetas, 540
o iuvenes, propiorque meae, quos arma tenere,
non thyrsos, galeaque tegi, non fronde decebat?
este, precor, memores, qua sitis stirpe creati,
illiusque animos, qui multos perdidit unus,
sumite serpentis! pro fontibus ille lacuque 545
interiit: at vos pro fama vincite vestra!
ille dedit leto fortes: vos pellite molles
et patrium retinete decus! si fata vetabant
stare diu Thebas, utinam tormenta virique
moenia diruerent, ferrumque ignisque sonarent! 550
essemus miseri sine crimine, sorsque querenda,
non celanda foret, lacrimaeque pudore carerent;
at nunc a puero Thebae capientur inermi,
quem neque bella iuvant nec tela nec usus equorum,
sed madidus murra crinis mollesque coronae 555
purpuraque et pictis intextum vestibus aurum,
quem quidem ego actutum (modo vos absistite) cogam
adsumptumque patrem commentaque sacra fateri.
an satis Acrisio est animi, contemnere vanum
numen et Argolicas venienti claudere portas: 560
Penthea terrebit cum totis advena Thebis?
ite citi’ (famulis hoc imperat), ‘ite ducemque
attrahite huc vinctum! iussis mora segnis abesto!’
hunc avus, hunc Athamas, hunc cetera turba suorum
corripiunt dictis frustraque inhibere laborant. 565
acrior admonitu est inritaturque retenta
et crescit rabies remoraminaque ipsa nocebant:
sic ego torrentem, qua nil obstabat eunti,
lenius et modico strepitu decurrere vidi;
at quacumque trabes obstructaque saxa tenebant, 570
spumeus et fervens et ab obice saevior ibat.
Ecce cruentati redeunt et, Bacchus ubi esset,
quaerenti domino Bacchum vidisse negarunt;
‘hunc’ dixere ‘tamen comitem famulumque sacrorum
cepimus’ et tradunt manibus post terga ligatis 575
sacra dei quendam Tyrrhena gente secutum.
adspicit hunc Pentheus oculis, quos ira tremendos
fecerat, et quamquam poenae vix tempora differt,
‘o periture tuaque aliis documenta dature
morte,’ ait, ‘ede tuum nomen nomenque parentum 580
et patriam, morisque novi cur sacra frequentes!’
ille metu vacuus ‘nomen mihi’ dixit ‘Acoetes,
patria Maeonia est, humili de plebe parentes.
non mihi quae duri colerent pater arva iuvenci,
lanigerosve greges, non ulla armenta reliquit; 585
pauper et ipse fuit linoque solebat et hamis
decipere et calamo salientis ducere pisces.
ars illi sua census erat; cum traderet artem,
“accipe, quas habeo, studii successor et heres,”
dixit “opes,” moriensque mihi nihil ille reliquit 590
praeter aquas: unum hoc possum adpellare paternum.
mox ego, ne scopulis haererem semper in isdem,
addidici regimen dextra moderante carinae
flectere et Oleniae sidus pluviale capellae
Taygetenque Hyadasque oculis Arctonque notavi 595
ventorumque domos et portus puppibus aptos.
forte petens Delum Chiae telluris ad oras
adplicor et dextris adducor litora remis
doque levis saltus udaeque inmittor harenae:
nox ibi consumpta est; aurora rubescere primo 600
coeperat: exsurgo laticesque inferre recentis
admoneo monstroque viam, quae ducat ad undas;
ipse quid aura mihi tumulo promittat ab alto
prospicio comitesque voco repetoque carinam.
“adsumus en” inquit sociorum primus Opheltes, 605
utque putat, praedam deserto nactus in agro,
virginea puerum ducit per litora forma.
ille mero somnoque gravis titubare videtur
vixque sequi; specto cultum faciemque gradumque:
nil ibi, quod credi posset mortale, videbam. 610
et sensi et dixi sociis: “quod numen in isto
corpore sit, dubito; sed corpore numen in isto est!
quisquis es, o faveas nostrisque laboribus adsis;
his quoque des veniam!” “pro nobis mitte precari!”
Dictys ait, quo non alius conscendere summas 615
ocior antemnas prensoque rudente relabi.
hoc Libys, hoc flavus, prorae tutela, Melanthus,
hoc probat Alcimedon et, qui requiemque modumque
voce dabat remis, animorum hortator, Epopeus,
hoc omnes alii: praedae tam caeca cupido est. 620
“non tamen hanc sacro violari pondere pinum
perpetiar” dixi: “pars hic mihi maxima iuris”
inque aditu obsisto: furit audacissimus omni
de numero Lycabas, qui Tusca pulsus ab urbe
exilium dira poenam pro caede luebat; 625
is mihi, dum resto, iuvenali guttura pugno
rupit et excussum misisset in aequora, si non
haesissem, quamvis amens, in fune retentus.
The god is now come and the fields resound with the wild cries of revellers. The people rush out of the city in throngs, men and women, old and young, nobles and commons, all mixed together, and hasten to celebrate the new rites. “What madness, ye sons of the serpent’s teeth, ye seed of Mars, has dulled your reason?” Pentheus cries. “Can clashing cymbals, can the pipe of crooked horn, can shallow tricks of magic, women’s shrill cries, wine-heated madness, vulgar throngs and empty drums—can all these vanquish men, for whom real war, with its drawn swords, the blare of trumpets, and lines of glittering spears, had no terrors? You, ye elders, should I give you praise, who sailed the long reaches of the sea and planted here your Tyre, here your wandering Penates, and who now permit them to be taken without a struggle? Or you, ye young men of fresher age and nearer to my own, for whom once ‘twas seemly to bear arms and not the thyrsus, to be sheltered by helmets and not garlands? Be mindful, I pray, from what seed you are sprung, and show the spirit of the serpent, who in his single strength killed many foes. For his fountain and his pool he perished; but do you conquer for your glory’s sake! He did to death brave men: do you but put to flight unmanly men and save your ancestral honour. If it be the fate of Thebes not to endure for long, I would the enginery of war and heroes might batter down her walls and that sword and fire might roar around her: then should we be unfortunate, but our honour without stain; we should bewail, not seek to conceal, our wretched state; then our tears would be without shame. But now our Thebes shall fall before an untried boy, whom neither arts of war assist nor spears nor horsemen, but whose weapons are scented locks, soft garlands, purple and gold inwoven in embroidered robes. But forthwith—only do you stand aside—I will force him to confess that his father’s name is borrowed and his sacred rites a lie. Did Acrisius have spirit enough to despise his empty godhead, and to shut the gates of Argos in his face, and shall Pentheus and all Thebes tremble at this wanderer’s approach? Go quickly” —this to his slaves—“go, bring this plotter hither, and in chains! Let there be no dull delay to my bidding.” His grandsire addresses him in words of reprimand, and Athamas, and all his counsellors, and they vainly strive to curb his will. He is all the more eager for their warning; his mad rage is fretted by restraint and grows apace, and their very efforts at control but make him worse. So have I seen a river, where nothing obstructed its course, flow smoothly on with but a gentle murmur; but, where it was held in check by dams of timber and stone set in its way, foaming and boiling it went, fiercer for the obstruction.
But now the slaves come back, all covered with blood, and, when their master asks where Bacchus is, they say that they have not seen him; “but this companion of his,” they say, “this priest of his sacred rites, we have taken,” and they deliver up, his hands bound behind his back, one of Etruscan stock, a votary of Bacchus. Him Pentheus eyes awhile with gaze made terrible by his wrath; and, with difficulty withholding his hand from punishment, he says: “Thou fellow, doomed to perish and by thy death to serve as a warning to others, tell me thy name, thy parents, and thy country; and why thou dost devote thyself to this new cult.” He fearlessly replies: “My name is Acoetes, and my country is Maeonia; my parents were but humble folk. My father left me no fields or sturdy bullocks to till them; no woolly sheep, no cattle. He himself was poor and used to catch fish with hook and line and rod and draw them leaping from the stream. His craft was all his wealth; and when he passed it on to me he said: ‘take this craft; ‘tis all my fortune. Be you my heir and successor in it.’ And in dying he left me nothing but the waters. This alone can I call my heritage. Soon, that I might not always stay planted on the selfsame rocks, I learned to steer ships with guiding hand; I studied the stars; the rainy constellation of the Olenian Goat, Taygete, the Hyades, the Bears; I learned the winds and whence they blow; I learned what harbours are best for ships. It chanced that while making for Delos I was driven out of my course to the shore of Chios and made the land with well-skilled oars. Light leaping, we landed on the wet shore and spent the night. As soon as the eastern sky began to redden I rose and bade my men go for fresh water, showing them the way that led to the spring. For my own task, from a high hill I observed the direction of the wind; then called my comrades and started back on board. ‘Lo, here we are!’ cried Opheltes, first of all the men, bringing with him a prize (so he considered it) which he had found in a deserted field, a little boy with form beautiful as a girl’s. He seemed to stagger, as if o’ercome with wine and sleep, and could scarce follow him who led. I gazed on his garb, his face, his walk; and all I saw seemed more to me than mortal. This I perceived, and said to my companions: ‘What divinity is in that mortal body I know not; but assuredly a divinity is therein. Whoever thou art, be gracious unto us and prosper our undertakings. Grant pardon also to these men.’ ‘Pray not for us,’ said Dictys, than whom none was more quick to climb the topmost yard and slide down on firm-grasped rope. Libys seconded this speech; so did yellow-haired Melanthus, the look-out, and Alcimedon and Epopeus, who by his voice marked the time for the rowers and urged on their flagging spirits. And all the rest approved, so blind and heedless was their greed for booty. ‘And yet I shall not permit this ship to be defiled by such sacrilege,’ I said; ‘here must my authority have greater weight.’ And I resisted their attempt to come on board. Then did Lycabas break out into wrath, the most reckless man of the crew, who, driven from Tuscany, was suffering exile as a punishment for the foul crime of murder. He, while I withstood him, tore at my throat with his strong hands and would have hurled me overboard, if, scarce knowing what I did, I had not clung to a rope that held me back.