cities by the sea; everywhere his orgies accepted and
his godhead received. Now for the first time he has reached an
Hellenic city: and here--where least it should have been--his divinity
is questioned by his own mother's sisters who make the story of his
birth a false rumor, devised to cover Semele's shame, and avenged by
the lightning flash which destroyed her. To punish his unnatural kin
he has infected all their womenkind with his sacred phrensy, and
maddened out of their quiet life, they are now on the revel under the
pale pines of the mountain, unseemly mingled with the sons of Thebes:
so shall the recusant city learn her guilt, and make atonement to him
and his mother. Pentheus, it seems, is the main foe of his godhead,
who reigns as king over Thebes, the aged Cadmus having yielded the
sovereignty in his lifetime to his sister's son: he repels Bacchus from
the sacred libations, nor names him in prayer. So he and Thebes must
learn a dread lesson, and then away to make revelation in other lands.
As to force, if attempt is made to drive the Maenads from the
mountains, Bacchus himself will mingle in the war, and for this he has
assumed mortal shape.

He calls upon his 'Thyasus of women,' fellow-pilgrims from the lands
beyond the sea, to beat their Phrygian drums in noisy ritual about the
palace of Pentheus till all Thebes shall flock to hear; he goes to join
his worshippers on Cithaeron. {70}

PARODE, OR CHORUS-ENTRY

_The Chorus enter the orchestra, Asiatic women in wild attire of
Bacchic rites, especially the motley (dappled fawnskin) always
associated with abandon: they move with wild gestures and dances
associated with Asiatic rituals._

The wild ode resumes the joyous dance that has made their whole way
from Asia one long sacred revel--

Toilless toil and labour sweet.

Blest above all men he who hallows his life in such mystic rites, and,
purified with holiest waters, goes dancing with the worshippers of
Bacchus, and of thee, mighty Mother Cybele, shaking his thyrsus, and
all his locks crowned with ivy. Bacchus's birth is sung, and how from
the flashing lightning Jove snatched him and preserved in his thigh,
until at the fated hour he gave him to light, horned and crowned with
serpents. Wherefore should Thebes, sacred scene of the miracle, be one
blossom of revellers, clad in motley and waving the thyrsus, the whole
land maddening with the dance. The Chorus think of the first origin of