Euripides - The Bacchae (Scene I & Choral Interlude I) lyrics

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Euripides - The Bacchae (Scene I & Choral Interlude I) lyrics

[Enter Tiresias, a very old blind man, dressed in clothing appropriate for the Dionysian ritual. He goes up to the palace door and knocks very aggressively] TIRESIAS: [shouting] Where's the servant on the door? You in there, [170] tell Cadmus to get himself out of the house, Agenor's lad, who came here from Sidon, then put up the towers of this Theban town. Go tell him Tiresias is waiting for him. 220 He knows well enough why I've come for him. I'm an old man, and he's even older, but we've agreed make ourselves a thyrsus, to put on fawn skins and crown our heads with garlands of these ivy branches. [Enter Cadmus from the palace, a very old man, also dressed in clothing appropriate for the Dionysian ritual] CADMUS: My dearest friend, I was inside the house. I heard your voice. I recognized it—the voice of a man truly wise. So I've come equipped with all this god stuff. [180] We must sing his praise, as much as we can, for this Dionysus, well, he's my daughter's child. 230 Now he's revealed himself a god to men. Where must I go and dance? Where do I get to move my feet and shake my old gray head? You must guide me, Tiresias, one old man leading another, for you're the expert here. Oh, I'll never tire of waving this thyrsus, day and night, striking the ground. What rapture! Now we can forget that we're old men. TIRESIAS: You feel the same way I do, then. For I'm young and going to try the dancing. 240 [190] CADMUS: Shall we go up the mountain in a chariot? TIRESIAS: The god would not then get complete respect. CADMUS: So I'll be your nursemaid—one old man will take charge of another one? TIRESIAS: The god himself will get us to the place without our efforts. CADMUS: Of all the city are we the only ones who'll dance to honour Bacchus? TIRESIAS: Yes, indeed, for we're the only ones whose minds are clear. As for the others, well, their thinking's wrong. CADMUS: There'll be a long wait. Take my hand. 250 TIRESIAS: [holding out his hand] Here. Take it—make a pair of it and yours. CADMUS: I'm a mortal, so I don't mock the gods. TIRESIAS: To the gods we mortals are all ignorant. [200] Those old traditions from our ancestors, the ones we've had as long as time itself, no argument will ever overthrow, in spite of subtleties sharp minds invent. Will someone say I disrespect old age, if I intend to dance with ivy on my head? Not so, for the god makes no distinctions— 260 whether the dancing is for young or old. He wants to gather honours from us all, to be praised communally, without division. CADMUS: Since you're blind to daylight, Tiresias, [210] I'll be your seer, tell you what's going on— Pentheus, that child of Echion, the one to whom I handed over power in this land, he's coming here, to the house. He's in a rush. He looks so flustered. What news will he bring? [Enter Pentheus, with some armed attendants. At first he does not notice Cadmus and Tiresias, not until he calls attention to them] PENTHEUS: It so happens I've been away from Thebes, 270 but I hear about disgusting things going on, here in the city—women leaving home to go to silly Bacchic rituals, cavorting there in mountain shadows, with dances honouring some upstart god, this Dionysus, whoever he may be. Mixing bowls [220] in the middle of their meetings are filled with wine. They creep off one by one to lonely spots to have s** with men, claiming they're Maenads busy worshipping. But they rank Aphrodite, 280 goddess of s**ual desire, ahead of Bacchus. All the ones I've caught, my servants guard in our public prison, their hands chained up. All those who're still away, I'll chase down, hunt them from the mountains—that includes Agave, who bore me to Echion, Ino, and Autonoe, Actaeon's mother. [230] Once I've clamped them all in iron fetters, I'll quickly end this perverse nastiness, this Bacchic celebration. People say 290 some stranger has arrived, some wizard, a conjurer from the land of Lydia— with sweet-smelling hair in golden ringlets and Aphrodite's charms in wine-dark eyes. He hangs around the young girls day and night, dangling in front of them his joyful mysteries. If I catch him in this city, I'll stop him. He'll make no more clatter with his thyrsus, [240] or wave his hair around. I'll chop off his head, slice it right from his body. This man claims 300 that Dionysus is a god, alleging that once upon a time he was sewn up, stitched inside Zeus' thigh—but Dionysus was burned to d**h, along with Semele, in that lightning strike, because she'd lied. She maintained that she'd had s** with Zeus. All this surely merits harsh punishment, d**h by hanging. Whoever this stranger is, his insolence is an insult to me. [Noticing Cadmus and Tiresias for the first time] Well, here's something totally astounding! 310 I see Tiresias, our soothsayer, all dressed up in dappled fawn skins—my mother's father, too! [250] This is ridiculous. To take a thyrsus and jump around like this. [To Cadmus] You sir, I don't like to see such arrant foolishness from your old age. Why not throw out that ivy? And, grandfather, why not let that thyrsus go? [Turning to address Tiresias] Tiresias, you're the one who's put him up to this. You want to bring in some new god for men, so you'll be able to inspect more birds, 320 and from his sacrifices make more money. If your gray old age did not protect you, you'd sit in chains with all the Bacchae for such a ceremonial perversion. [260] Whenever women at some banquet start to take pleasure in the gleaming wine, I say there's nothing healthy in their worshipping. CHORUS LEADER: That's impiety! O stranger, have you no reverence for the gods, for Cadmus, who sowed that crop of men born from the earth? 330 You're a child of Echion—do you wish to bring your own family into disrepute? TIRESIAS: When a man of wisdom has good occasion to speak out, and takes the opportunity, it's not that hard to give an excellent speech. You've got a quick tongue and seem intelligent, but your words don't make any sense at all. A fluent orator whose power comes [270] from self-a**urance and from nothing else makes a bad citizen, for he lacks sense. 340 This man, this new god, whom you ridicule— it's impossible for me to tell you just how great he'll be in all of Greece. Young man, among human beings two things stand out preeminent, of highest rank. Goddess Demeter is one—she's the earth (though you can call her any name you wish), and she feeds mortal people cereal grains. The other one came later, born of Semele— he brought with him liquor from the grape, 350 something to match the bread from Demeter. He introduced it among mortal men. When they can drink up what streams off the vine, unhappy mortals are released from pain. [280] It grants them sleep, allows them to forget their daily troubles. Apart from wine, there is no cure for human hardship. He, being a god, is poured out to the gods, so human beings receive fine benefits as gifts from him. And yet you mock him. Why? 360 Because he was sewn into Zeus thigh? Well, I'll show you how this all makes sense. When Zeus grabbed him from the lightning flame, he brought him to Olympus as a god. But Hera wished to throw him out of heaven. [290] So Zeus, in a manner worthy of a god, came up with a cunning counter plan. From the sky which flows around the earth, Zeus broke off a piece, shaped it like Dionysus, then gave that to Hera, as a hostage. 370 The real child he sent to nymphs to raise, thus saving him from Hera's jealousy. Over time people mixed up "sky" and "thigh," saying he'd come from Zeus's thigh, changing words, because he, a god, had once been hostage to goddess Hera. So they made up the tale. This god's a prophet, too, for in his rites— the Bacchic celebrations and the madness— a huge prophetic powere is unleashed. When the god fully enters human bodies, 380 [300] he makes those possessed by frenzy prophets. They speak of what will come in future days He also shares the work of war god Ares. For there are times an army all drawn up, its weapons ready, can shake with terror, before any man has set hand to his spear. Such madness comes from Dionysus. Some day you'll see him on those rocks at Delphi, leaping with torches on the higher slopes, way up there between two mountain peaks, 390 waving and shaking his Bacchic wand, a great power in Greece. Trust me, Pentheus. Don't be too confident a sovereign's force controls men. If something seems right to you, [310] but your mind's diseased, don't think that's wisdom. So welcome this god into your country. Pour libations to him, then celebrate these Bacchic rites with garlands on your head. On women, where Aphrodite is concerned, Dionysus will not enforce restraint— 400 such modesty you must seek in nature, where it already dwells. For any woman whose character is chaste won't be defiled by Bacchic revelry. Don't you see that? When there are many people at your gates, you're happy. The city shouts your praise. It celebrates the name of Pentheus. [320] The god, too, I think, derives great pleasure from being honoured. And so Cadmus, whom you mock, and I will crown our heads 410 with ivy and will join the ritual, an old gray team, but still we have to dance. Your words will not turn me against the god, for you are mad—under a cruel delusion. No drug can heal that ailment—in fact, some drug has caused it. CHORUS LEADER: Old man, you've not disgraced Apollo with your words, and by honouring this Dionysus, a great god, you show your moderation. CADMUS: My child, Tiresias has given you 420 [330] some good advice. You should live among us, not outside traditions. At this point, you're flying around—thinking, but not clearly. For if, as you claim, this man is not a god, why not call him one? Why not tell a lie, a really good one? Then it will seem that some god has been born to Semele. We—and all our family—will win honour. Remember the dismal fate of Actaeon— torn to pieces in some mountain forest 430 by blood-thirsty dogs he'd raised himself. He'd boasted he was better in the hunt [340] than Artemis. Don't suffer the same fate. Come here. Let me crown your head with ivy. Join us in giving honour to this god. PENTHEUS: Keep your hands off me! Be off with you— go to these Bacchic rituals of yours. But don't infect me with your madness. As for the one who in this foolishness has been your teacher, I'll bring him to justice. 440 [To his attendants] One of you, go quickly to where this man, Tiresias, has that seat of his, the place where he inspects his birds. Take some levers, knock it down. Demolish it completely. Turn the whole place upside down—all of it. Let his holy ribbons fly off in the winds. [350] That way I'll really do him damage. You others—go to the city, scour it to capture this effeminate stranger, who corrupts our women with a new disease, 450 and thus infects our beds. If you get him, tie him up and bring him here for judgment, a d**h by stoning. That way he'll see his rites in Thebes come to a bitter end. [Exit Pentheus into the palace] TIRESIAS: You unhappy man, you've no idea just what it is you're saying. You've gone mad! Even before now you weren't in your right mind. Let's be off, Cadmus. We'll pray to the god [360] on Pentheus' behalf, though he's a savage, and for the city, too, so he won't harm it. 460 Come with me—bring the ivy-covered staff. See if you can help support my body. I'll do the same for you. It would be shameful if two old men collapsed. No matter— for we must serve Bacchus, son of Zeus. But you, Cadmus, you should be more careful, or Pentheus will bring trouble in your home. I'm not saying this as a prophecy, but on the basis of what's going on. A man who's mad tends to utter madness. 470 [Exit Tiresias and Cadmus together on their way to the mountains] CHORUS: Holiness, queen of the gods, [370] Holiness, sweeping over earth on wings of gold, do you hear what Pentheus says? Do you hear the profanities he utters, the insults against Bromius, child of Semele, chief god among all blessed gods, for those who wear their lovely garlands in a spirit of harmonious joy? 480 This is his special office, to lead men together in the dance, to make them laugh as the flute plays, [380] to bring all sorrows to an end, at the god's sacrificial feast, when the gleaming liquid grapes arrive, when the wine bowl casts its sleep on ivy-covered feasting men. Unbridled tongues and lawless folly come to an end only in disaster. 490 A peaceful life of wisdom [390] maintains tranquillity. It keeps the home united. Though gods live in the sky, from far away in heaven they gaze upon the deeds of men. But being clever isn't wisdom. And thinking deeply about things isn't suitable for mortal men. Our life is brief—that's why 500 the man who chases greatness fails to grasp what's near at hand. That's what madmen do, [400] men who've lost their wits. That's what I believe. Would I might go to Cyprus, island of Aphrodite, where the Erotes, bewitching goddesses of love, soothe the hearts of humankind, 510 or to Paphos, rich and fertile, not with rain, but with the waters of a hundred flowing mouths of a strange and foreign river. Oh Bromius, Bromius, inspired god who leads the Bacchae, lead me away to lovely Peira, [410] where Muses dwell, or to Olympus' sacred slopes, where Graces live, Desire, too, 520 where it's lawful and appropriate to celebrate our rites with Bacchus. This god, son of Zeus, rejoices in our banquets. He adores the goddess Peace, and she brings riches with her [420] and nourishes the young. The god gives his wine equally, sharing with rich and poor alike. It takes away all sorrow. 530 But he hates the man who doesn't care to live his life in happiness, by day and through the friendly nights. From those who deny such common things he removes intelligence, their knowledge of true wisdom. So I take this as my rule— follow what common people think— [430] do what most men do.