424
EURIPIDES.
But lo, I see fast hurrying to the halls 1165
Agavê, Pentheus' mother, with wild eyes
Rolling:—hail ye the revel of our God!
Enter Agavê, carrying the head of Pentheus.
Agave.
(Str.)
Asian Bacchanals!
Chorus.
Why dost thou challenge me?—say.
Agave.
Lo, from the mountain-side I bear
A newly-severed ivy-spray 1170
Unto our halls, a goodly prey.
Chorus.
I see—to our revels I welcome thee.
Agave.
I trapped him, I, with never a snare!
'Tis a lion—the whelp of a lion, plain to see.
Chorus.
Where in the wilderness, where?
Agave.
Kithairon—
Chorus.
What hath Kithairon wrought?
Agave.
Him hath Kithairon to slaughter brought.
