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Euripides. Bust from the Vatican Museum

Euripides. Bust from the Vatican Museum

11.04.2019

bacchantes

Translation by Innokenty Annensky

CHARACTERS

Dionysus (II) Servant (III)

Choir of the Bacchantes, Lydian women Herald Shepherd (III)

Tiresias, blind old man, soothsayer (II) Herald servant (III)

Cadmus, former king of Theban (III) Agave, daughter of Cadmus, mother

Pentheus, young man, grandson of Cadmus, new king of Pentheus (I)

Theban (I)

The action takes place in Cadmea, a Theban fortress, north of Thebes, in front of the palace of Cadmus. Facade of the palace in the Dorian style, with columns and a triglyph. The middle door plays the role of the main gate leading into the room. At the right periacta (backstage) there is a pile of wooden fragments, fenced and entwined with greenery

grapes. At the beginning of the play, Dionysus enters the stage from the left in the form of an admirer of Bacchus: in addition to a long, to the very heels, motley tunic, he has a saffron-colored shift, which is pulled together by a wide motley belt; on the cape hangs from the shoulders of a non-bred - a deer skin; from under a soft miter and a plush wreath, delicate, light golden hair falls in luxurious curls on the shoulders, covering the ears and part of the cheeks. a pampered handsome man with an effeminate face; cheeks are white, with a thick blush (eyes with a veil); in

in his right hand he has a thyrsus, a stick the height of a man, wrapped in ivy.

The son of Zeus, Dionysus, I am with the Thebans.

Here once was Semele, Cadmus' daughter,

She brought me into the world prematurely

The fire of Zeves' thunderstorm is struck.

From god to human appearance,

I approach the jets of native rivers.

(He sees the wreckage entwined with grapes.)

Here is my mother's burned memory

At the very palace, the wreckage of the house

They still smoke - they still live in them

Heavenly fire, proud Hera

On my mother unquenchable anger ...

10 How good that made impregnable

Cadmus daughters sanctuary; his

From all sides I hid the grapes

Wrapped around with tassels of delicate greenery.

Rich Lydia plains I left

And Phrygia, and Persia fields,

Burnt by midday rays,

And the walls of Bactria, and the Medes

Having tasted the winter cold, I am an Arab

Happy visited and walked around

All Asia, along the coast of the sea

Salty stretched out: in the cities

Beautiful towers rise

And together there a Greek with a barbarian lives.

I introduced holidays and dances in Asia

And from people, like a god, everywhere is respected.

20 Here I trample the soil of Greece for the first time.

From the cities of Hellas before anyone else

You, Thebes, I will fill with jubilation,

I’ll throw nonbrides on my shoulders and, in return

Spears, I will hand you thyrsus, entwined with ivy:

Here mother's sisters - who could expect?

Zeus was not recognized in me as a son,

And they claimed that, having sinned

With a mortal, mother attributed to Zeus

30 His feminine sin, which he deftly composed

That fable of Cadmus, and if Zeus Semelu

Killed for a boldly contrived marriage.

I, having declared them with rage, from the houses

Forced to run - losing his mind

They are now gone to Kisreron

In bacchanal clothes, with a thirst for orgies

In the chest, and how much is in Thebes

To the women's people, all with them together

I forced them to leave the hearths.

And under the fir tents, at random,

The homeless sleep on the bare rocks.

Yes, city, you will feel now

40 What until now shunned the orgies of Bacchus.

Semele mother I protect the memory

I am a powerful god, the son of Zeus.

The honor and power of the king here gave Cadmus

Pentheus, son of Agave's daughter.

He is a theomachist and I never

He did not make a libation in prayers either.

Doesn't want to mention. Let the king

And other Thebans will be convinced

What exactly am I God. Here's how to teach

To serve myself, I will go to other lands.

50 And if the Thebans move with the army,

To return women from Kiferon,

My maenads will fight with them.

So that's why, changing the appearance,

From a god I became a man.

(Turning to the choir, which had just performed at Fimela earlier.)

And you, who left Tmol with me,

You, Lydia's pets, are friends

On the way and in the parking lot, you tympanum

Raising the Phrygian over his head,

The gift of Rhea-mother and mine,

60 Crowd around the palace of Pentheus:

Let the loud beats gather

Here the Thebans. I'm on Kiferon

I'll go now to my new bacchantes,

And I will intertwine light dances.

when pronouncing the 63rd line, it runs along the paraskenia, descends to the fimela (a platform in the orchestra, somewhat below the stage) and is located on the left side of the audience, in a quadrangle five in a row; the middle one in the first row is the luminary. The flutist (more precisely, the clarinetist) precedes the choir and remains with him on the fimel throughout the play. The choir consists of 15 Lydian women: they are in long clothes, barefoot, non-brides on their shoulders, their heads are covered with ivy or yew; in the hands are long thyrsae in ivy or light short staffs; in others, instead of thyrsus, in the hands

tympanum (genus of tambourine). Dionysus at the end of the prologue goes to the right. The choir sings in unison. The first eight lines are performed by one luminary. Mimic movements, and perhaps dance movements, accompany this introductory song.

Verse I Land of Asia, where are you?

Sacred tar, you are abandoned! My sweet work.

I will raise languor to the glory of Bromium,

To the god Bacchus I call: Evoe!

Antistrophe I Get out of the way, out of the way!

Hide in the houses, and the mouth reverently

70 Let them close: I will sing Dionysus,

As I praise him everywhere and always.

Verse II Oh, how happy you are, mortal,

If, in peace with the gods,

You will know their secrets

If, rejoicing on high,

Bacchus of pure delights

You will fill a timid soul.

Happy if you are involved

Orgy of mother Cybele;

80 If, shaking thyrsus,

Ivy crowned with greenery,

Serve Dionysus in the world.

Go, bacchantes, go!

You, God and God's son,

Take home Dionysus!

From the Phrygian mountains to Hellas

Take Bacchus home.

Antistrophe II The thunders of Zeus struck

The pangs of childbirth have arrived:

Bromia mother from the womb

And under lightning

She ended her life prematurely.

But he accepted the regurgitated

Zeus into his womb immediately

And, melting from Hera's son,

He has it in the thigh artfully

Golden pinned buckle:

When the time came for him,

100 Horned god he gave birth,

From a snake he made a wreath for him:

Since then, this beastly food

The maenad wraps around the brow.

Stanza III You, the cradle of Semele,

Thebes, get married with ivy!

Dress with delicate foliage,

Purple yew berries!

Bacchus be fulfilled, city

110 With green oak and spruce!

And white brushes

Euripides Bacchae

bacchantes

Translated by F. F. Zelinsky

The action takes place on the square in front of the royal palace in the Theban Kremlin. The facade of the palace is seen at an oblique angle from the left side of the stage; it consists of a central colonnade, in the middle of which there is a large gate leading to the courtyard, and a protruding extension on the left side, in which Agave's tower is supposed to be. The annex that once corresponded to it on the right side is a pile of ruins surrounded by a fence; the stones are overgrown with greenery, but at intervals one can see the crimson flame of smoldering beams, from which thick clouds of smoke rise; this is the former tower of Semele. Above it is a view of the plain of Ismene; strict contours are visible in the distance

Kiferon. The time is before dawn, the gates and doors are deafly locked. In front of the ruins of the tower stands, leaning on his thyrsus and immersed in thought, Dionysus. He is a young man with a ruddy face and languid eyes, dressed in a long cloak of eastern cut and decorated with a miter over loose luxurious curls; in addition to a cloak, he wears a nonbrida, that is, a spotted skin of a chubar deer, in the form of a cape. He delivers his speech partly as a monologue, partly referring to

viewers.

I came here, to the Theban country - I, Dionysus, the son of Zeus, who was once born by Cadm's daughter Semele, freed from the burden by a lightning flame; having exchanged my divine image for that of a man, I came to the jets of Dirka and to the waves of Ismen. And here in front of me, near the palace, is the grave of my mother, struck by a thunderstorm, the smoking ruins of her tower, the flame of Zeus's fire still alive - this is the eternal stigma imposed by Hera on the memory of my mother. I am grateful to Cadmus for declaring this place inaccessible, making it a shrine to his daughter; I myself surrounded it from everywhere with the fruitful greenery of the vine.

Leaving the golden lands of the Lydians and Phrygians, the sun-drenched plateaus of the Persians, the strongholds of Bactria, passing through the harsh country of the Medes, through happy Arabia and all of Asia, washed by the salty waves of the sea, in whose fortified cities a mixed, half-Hellenic-semi-barbarian tribe huddles, I visited this city the first among the Hellenic, establishing their round dances there and establishing their sacraments in order to testify to mortals their divinity.

Therefore, I announced Thebes before the rest of Hellas with the sounds of my songs, dressing the inhabitants in nonbrides and giving them thyrsus, a weapon entwined with ivy, into their hands - that my mother's sisters, to whom this was the least befitting, did not recognize me, Dionysus, as the son of Zeus, arguing that Semele, having given herself to a mortal, covered her sinful love with the name of Zeus, according to a trick invented by Cadmus; as a result, they slandered, Zeus killed her - as a punishment for false boasting about marriage with him. For this, I themselves drove them out of the palace with a sting of rage - they live in the mountains, devoid of reason - and forced them to wear the symbols of my sacraments. With them, I drove out of the houses the entire female tribe, how many wives and virgins the Cadmeians had; now they, along with the daughters of Cadmus, are sitting homeless on the rocks, under the shade of green firs. It is necessary that this city, even against its will, learn what it is like to be not initiated into my mysteries; it is also necessary that I restore the honor of my mother Semele by appearing before mortals to the god whom she gave birth to Zeus.

True, Cadmus ... but Cadmus handed over his rank and his power to his daughter's son Pentheus; and Pentheus fights against God in relation to me, refusing me libations and not mentioning me anywhere in his prayers. For this I will prove to him and to all the Cadmeians that I am a god; and then, if I manage to arrange things for the better here, I will go to another country, revealing to people who I am; if the Theban people, in their irritation, dare to take the Bacchantes from the mountains with weapons in their hands, then I, having become the head of the maenads, will lead them to battle. For the sake of all this, I took on a mortal form, turning into a man. (The first rays of the sun illuminate the palace; footsteps and people are heard inside. Dionysus, leaving the tomb of Semele, goes to the right side of the stage and, raising his voice, addresses the choir hidden behind the stage.)

Hear you, my squad - you who left Tmol, the stronghold of Lydia, the women whom I brought from the barbarian country in order to have in you participants in power and companions: raise the tympanums native to the inhabitants of Phrygia, my invention and Mother Rhea, and, surrounding royal mansions of Pentheus, make noise before all the people of Cadmus; and I, having retired to the gorges of Cithaeron, to the Bacchantes, will take part in their round dances. (Goes off to the right.)

The Lydian Bacchantes enter the stage. All of them, over their long-skirted clothes, are dressed in non-brides: some carry tyrsus in their hands, the rest carry tympanums, that is, tambourines, the playing of which is accompanied by their songs, starting from the third stanza. At the same time, the doors of the palace open, the guards come out, groups of curious people begin to appear from the left side; but after the first

all extraneous antistrophes are removed again.

Coming from Asiatic land, leaving holy Tmolus, we bear a pleasant burden in honor of the god Bromius, we serve a sweet service, proclaiming Bacchus.

Antistrophe 1.

Who's on the street? Who's on the street? Who is in the mansions? Let him go; and let those present keep their reverent lips clean: we speak the words of the faith established for the ages, glorifying Dionysus.

Blessed is the one who, by the grace of the gods, has been honored with their mysteries, observes purity in life and joins the host of the initiates in soul, celebrating Bacchic festivities in the mountains amid pious purifications; blessed is he who, raising the symbols of the great Mother Cybele, shaking the thyrsus and crowned with ivy, serves Dionysus. - Forward, bacchantes! Go ahead, bacchantes! Accompany Bromius, the God-born god Dionysus, returning from the Phrygian mountains to the spacious and cheerful streets of Hellas - accompany Bromius!

Antistrophe 2.

His mother, who was once pregnant with him, in the throes of childbirth, caused by the winged lightning of Zeus, prematurely gave birth, parting with her life under the blow of a thunderbolt. And immediately Zeus-Cronides took him into the maternity cavity, laying him in his thigh; he fastened the veils with gold buckles secretly from Hera. And he gave birth to him, when time was fulfilled by the will of Moir, to him, the horned god, and crowned him with wreaths of snakes - as a result of which even now the Bacchantes weave this wild prey into their curls.

After this stanza, the movements of the Bacchantes become more lively, reaching the extreme limits of passion in the epod; more and more often blows are heard in tympanums. The square is again filled with people - guards, servants and citizens.

O Thebes, who nursed Semele, marry with ivy, adorn yourself with the greenery of a fruitful yew, dedicate yourself to Bacchus with branches of oaks or firs! covering the chest with colorful non-brides, tie them with shreds of white [HO] wool and with playful thyrsae in your hands, honor God! Soon the whole earth will resound with round dances, when Bromius will lead his squads into the mountains, yes, into the mountains! where a crowd of women awaits him, furiously leaving the krosna and shuttles at the behest of Dionysus.

Antistrophe 3.

Oh Terem Kuretov! O divine gorge of Crete, which gave life to Zeus! In your caves, the three-helmed Corybantes found for us this leather-covered hoop, added its stern sound to the sweet melodies of the Phrygian flutes and gave it into the hands of Mother Pee, so that once its noise would accompany the praises of the Bacchantes. And the mad satyrs begged him from the Mother Goddess and introduced him to the dances of the trieterides, beloved by Dionysus.

We love it in the holy glade, when you run with the whole squad, striving for the Phrygian or Lydian mountains, and suddenly - chasing a goat to taste its blood and taste the sweetness of raw food - you fall to the ground, protected by the holy cover of Nebrida. And our leader calls: "Blessed be, Bromius!" And milk is pouring from the earth, wine is pouring, bee nectar is pouring, voe! And now Bacchus himself, raising on his thyrsus a burning crimson flame, smoking like Syrian incense, strives towards us, prompting us, amazed, to run and dance, inciting us to enthusiastic cries, throwing luxurious curls to the ether - and among our jubilations exclaims : "Forward, Bacchantes! Forward, Bacchantes, the beauty of the golden Tmol! To the sounds of humming tympans, sing Dionysus, honoring the blessed god with praises and Phrygian exclamations and cries!" - We love it when the sweet-sounding sacred flute sings holy tunes that accompany our run to the mountains, yes, to the mountains! - and cheerful, like a stallion left with a grazing uterus, a swift-footed bacchante frolics.

The song stops; the bacchantes gaze anxiously at those present, inviting them to join them; those stand in confusion or withdraw, no one follows their call. Then they, sadly lowering their heads, head to the right edge of the stage, where they are located in groups around their

luminaries.

FIRST ACT

FIRST SCENE

On the left side of the scene, the blind Tiresias appears with a thyrsus in his hand, a wreath on his head, and a non-bred over the mesh cape he wears as a soothsayer. All his movements breathe inspiration; despite his blindness, he goes straight to the colonnade of the palace and stops in front of the gate.

Who is at the door? Summon from the palace Cadmus, the son of Agenor, who left the city of Sidon and erected the stronghold of Thebes here. Quickly tell him that Tiresias is looking for him. (One of the guards leaves for the palace; Tiresias continues his speech, turning to the choir.) He already knows himself why I am coming and what we agreed on - I, the old man, with him, who is even older than me: about wrapping thyrsae with greenery, put on nonbrides and crown the head with an ivy branch.

During the last words of Tiresias, Cadmus leaves the palace. He is dressed (except for the net cape) in the same way as Tiresias, but with the same inspiration that

fills all the words and movements of Tiresias, it does not.

Here I am, my friend! in the palace I heard your words - the wise words of a wise man - and willingly came out to you in the vestment that God showed us. He is my daughter's son; it is necessary that he, as far as it is in our power, be exalted by us. Where should we dance, where should we perform with a measured step, throwing our gray head? Be my teacher, Tiresias, old man to the old man: you are wise. And I have enough strength day and night to tirelessly knock the thyrsus on the ground; in my joy I forgot my years.

The same is happening with me: and I feel young and I will try to dance.

Well, let's sit in a wagon and go to the mountains?

Tiresias (shaking his head with a grin)

Not; by this we would not honor God enough.

Do you want me to be your guide, old man?

God himself will lead you and me there, and we will not get tired.

Cadmus (looks around uneasily)

But will we alone dance in honor of Bacchus?

Yes; we alone are prudent, the rest are not.

Cadmus (encouraged by the words of Tiresias, holding out his hand fervently)

Let's not delay; here is my hand.

Here is mine; take it and combine it with yours.

I know that I am mortal and I humble myself before the gods.

Tiresias (solemnly)

In vain are our philosophies over the deity. Commandments inherited from the fathers, as ancient as time itself - no mind is able to overthrow them, no wisdom, even if it is found in the innermost depths of the human soul. (Softly, shaking hands with Cadmus.) They will say that I am a disgrace to my old age, thinking about dancing and crowning my head with ivy. But God did not make a distinction between young and old, determining who should dance and who should not; he wants everyone to honor him in common, and does not want to receive honors by rank. (He wants to drag Cadmus after him to the right: he, who has been looking uneasily into the distance for some time, is holding him back.)

Since you, Tiresias, do not see the light of day, I will announce to you in words what is happening. Here Pentheus, the son of Echion, to whom I have transferred power over the country, is hastily approaching the palace. How excited he is! Will he say something new?

They depart together under the shadow of the colonnade.

SECOND SCENE

From the right, Pentheus (a young man of about eighteen with a beautiful but pale face, bearing the imprint of mental work and ascetic life) is rapidly approaching, in travel clothes, with a spear in his hand; his bodyguards follow him. The head of the guard standing at the door of the palace respectfully goes to meet him; he turns to him, not noticing the presence of the choir and both

elders; his speech is angry and halting.

I left this country; but now I hear about an unprecedented disaster that has broken out over our city - that our women, under the pretext of imaginary Bacchic sacraments, have left their homes and are now raging in the shady mountains, honoring this newly announced god with their round dances - Dionysus, as his name is; that they settled down in groups around full jugs of wine (here Pentheus's eyes light up with a strange brilliance; his voice trembles from inner excitement, which he wants to overcome, but cannot), and then - who is here, who is there - stealthily go to secluded places, so that there to be given to men; they pretend at the same time that they are priestly maenads, but in reality they serve Aphrodite more than Bacchus. (After a pause, more calmly.) I caught some: their hands were tied by slaves and now they are guarded in the city prison; for the rest I will go hunting in the mountains - and among them are Ino, Agave, who gave birth to me Echion, and Actaeon's mother, Autonoe - and, entangling them with iron nets, I will quickly force them to stop their criminal bacchanalia.

I was also told that some foreigner, a sorcerer and magician from the Lydian land, had appeared, with blond curls, luxurious and fragrant, with a bright blush, with Aphrodite's negligence in his eyes; he spends days and nights with young women, initiating them into the Bacchic mysteries. It is he who calls Dionysus a god, he says that he was sewn up in the thigh of Zeus - this baby who was burned by a lightning flame along with his mother, for her false boast of marriage to Zeus! Is there such a terrible execution that this alien who came from nowhere with his blasphemous speeches would not deserve? (Cadmus involuntarily cried out, hearing from the lips of Pentheus an insult to the memory of Semele; Pentheus interrupts his speech, looks around and notices him.) But here is a new marvel! In front of me, in a colorful non-bride, is the fortuneteller Tiresias, and with him my mother's father; and both of them - what a funny sight! - Bacchus is honored with thyrsus in their hands! It is disgusting, my father, to look at you, old men, deprived of their minds. Shake off the ivy, save your hand from the thyrsus, you, my mother's father! Do you want to introduce among people the service of this new god, so that you are assigned to watch birds and paid money for the study of the insides? If your hoary old age had not saved you, you would have been sitting among the Bacchantes for spreading vile sacraments. Yes, vile! where women are concerned and where they are treated to sweet wine at a feast - nothing good can be expected from such sacred rites!

Coryphee

What wicked words, stranger! How are you not ashamed before the gods and before Cadmus, who sowed the earth-born tribe?

If a wise man chooses a worthy object for his speech, then its beauty should not arouse displeasure. Your tongue turns easily, like a prudent one, but there is no reason in your speeches; and such a person - bold and eloquent, but devoid of intelligence - is a harmful citizen.

This new god you're mocking - I can't even tell how great he will be in Hellas. Note, young man: there are two principles that dominate people's lives.

The first is the goddess Demeter ... she is also the Earth; You can call her one name or another. But she feeds mortals only with dry food; he, this son of Semele, supplemented the missing half of her gifts, he invented wet food, wine and brought it to mortals, thanks to which the afflicted lose consciousness of their grief, drinking the moisture of grapes, thanks to which they taste the oblivion of daily torment in a dream - in a dream, this the only healer of sorrow. He, being himself a god, is brought in the form of libations to other gods, so that through his mediation people receive all other benefits.

He is also a broadcaster - Bacchic fury contains a large share of the prophetic spirit: with the powerful power of his intuition, God forces those possessed by him to speak the future. He, finally, together with him acquired a share of military strength: more than once lined up and armed, the army was scattered by sudden horror before it was touched by the spear of the enemy; and this, too, is the madness sent by Dionysus. And you will also see that he will also occupy the Delphic rocks, frolicking with torches on a two-headed mountain, throwing and shaking a Bacchic branch, and will be great in all Hellas.

No, Pentheus, listen to me. Do not rely too much on your power, imagining that it is strength for people; and if you have reasoned in one way or another, but your understanding has fallen ill, then do not be too convinced of the correctness of your reasoning. Not; receive God into your country, offer him libations, let him initiate you into his mysteries, and put a wreath on your head. (Pentheus, who listened to this speech with barely concealed annoyance, wants to object; Tiresias, with a wave of his hand, makes him understand that he has not finished yet.) Of course, Dionysus will not force women to observe chastity; this is a matter of nature, and here is proof for you: a woman is chaste and in the Bacchic mysteries will not allow herself to be seduced. Then, you mock that it was sewn into Zeus's thigh; I will teach you how to properly understand this legend. When Zeus pulled him out of the lightning flame and carried the baby to Olympus, to the dwelling of the gods, Hera wanted to expel him from the sky. Then Zeus took measures against her that only God could take: he tore off part of the ether surrounding the earth, gave her the image of Dionysus and gave this ghost as a hostage to the angry Hera. And over time, people, perverting the legend, according to which the god Zeus gave the once hostage to the goddess Hera, and twisting the words, spread the rumor that he was fed in the thigh of Zeus. (Pentheus laughs wickedly. Tiresias, after a pause, meekly and sadly continues; everything shows that his former inspiration has left him.)

As you wish. I and Cadmus, over whom you mock, we will cover our heads with ivy and go to dance; True, we are a gray-haired couple, but what can we do! so it is necessary. Your words will not make me fight against God: you are struck by extreme madness. No potion will help you, on the contrary: your illness most likely originated from the potion.

Coryphee

Thank you old man; with your speech you do not humiliate Phoebus and at the same time, as a truly wise man, you honor Bromius, the great god.

Pentheus again turns to the head of the guard to give him orders; at the same time, Tiresias is looking for Cadmus with his hand, wanting to leave with him; but this latter, who did not take his eyes off his grandson and sadly noticed his obstinacy, comes up to him and puts his hand on his shoulder; the one in confusion

stops, bowing his head respectfully.

My child! Tiresias gave you good instructions; live with us, do not shy away from the people's faith. Now your mind is wandering, it is sick, although it seems to be healthy. (In an undertone, leaning towards Pentheus.) Let Dionysus not be a god, as you say; call him that anyway, decide on a pious lie, claiming that he is really a god - then they will believe that Semele is the Mother of God, and this will bring honor to our entire family ... (Pentheus steps back indignantly, raising his right hand in protest; Cadmus continues hurriedly, changing his tone.)

And then - isn't it, it pleases you when people crowd at the doors of the palace, when the city magnifies the name of Pentheus? He also, I suppose, rejoices when he is honored. And then - do you remember the fate of the unfortunate Actaeon, whom the fierce dogs fed by him tore apart in the holy meadow for his boastful words that he was a better hunter than Artemis? How could the same happen to you! Come here, let me crown your head with ivy; with us give honor to God.

Pentheus involuntarily lowered his hand at the mention of Actaeon; taking advantage of his thoughtfulness, Cadmus takes off his wreath and wants to put it on his grandson's head;

he flinches and violently throws his hand away.

Don't touch me! Go serve Bacchus, but don't think to infect me with your madness. And for this recklessness of yours, I will punish him, your teacher. (To the bodyguards.) Someone quickly go to his bird-watching tower, take crowbars, smash it, overturn it, turn everything into a heap of ruins and betray the bandages to stormy winds; it will hurt him the most. (To the chief of the guard.) And you walk through the city and track down that effeminate stranger who spreads this new infection among women and teaches them to defile the marriage bed; not to his own joy he will see the Theban bacchanalia, being stoned as punishment for his deeds.

Part of the guard with the chief leaves. The bodyguards stand in indecision, looking alternately at Pentheus, then at Tiresias; the imperious gesture of Peufey makes them leave, and they timidly say goodbye to Tiresias with a barely noticeable movement of the hand. He stands silently for a while, then slowly and without threat

stretches out his right hand to Pentheus.

O unfortunate one! You yourself do not know what you are doing: your former recklessness has given way to rage. Let's go, Cadmus; let us pray to God both for him, no matter how fierce he is, and for the people, that he will spare both. Walk with me with an ivy staff in your hand; (with a smile) let's try to support each other: after all, it's really ugly when two old people fall. (Quickly recollecting himself due to the puzzlement of Cadmus.) But all the same: you need to serve Zeus's son Dionysus. And Pentheus... I'm afraid he might bring sadness into your house, Cadmus. I speak not as a broadcaster, but on the basis of his deeds: his madness knows no bounds.

They leave to the right, mutually supporting each other, accompanied by the blessings of the choir. Pentheus looks after them and then, contemptuously shaking

shoulders, retires to his palace.

FIRST STASIM

Gosia, mighty among the gods, Gosia, flying on golden wings above the earth, do you hear these words of Pentheus? do you hear his impious mockery of Bromius? Yes, over him, over the son of Semele, the great patron god of crowned guests at a merry feast; over him, who gave us such gifts: to lead noisy round dances, to have fun at the sounds of a flute, to drive away worries when at a festive feast they bring the delight of wine, when at a meal of ivy-decorated husbands a goblet brings them to sleep.

Antistrophe 1.

Unbridled speeches, trampling the law and faith unreason, the end of misfortune. On the contrary, life is meek and reasonable - it itself is not overwhelmed with doubts and saves our house from misfortunes: no matter how far they live in the ether, the gods still see the deeds of people. It is not, therefore, wisdom to be wise and to rise in your pride above the lot of a mortal. Our life is short; who nevertheless sets himself too high a goal, he deprives himself of even the momentary joys of life; insane, I think, and unsound people have such a temper.

If only we could go to Cyprus, to the island of Aphrodite, where Eros, enchanting the soul of mortals, lives! Or to the rainless Paphos, fertilized by the jets of a barbarian river with a hundred mouths! But where is the one that is the most beautiful of all, where is Pieria, the birthplace of the muses, where are the holy slopes of Olympus? Lead us there, O Bromius, Bromius, our leader, our blessed god! There are Charites, there is bliss, there Bacchantes are allowed to frolic.

Antistrophe 2.

Yes, our god, the son of Zeus, loves fun, but he also loves the blessed Irene, the nurse of youth; That is why he gave people the delight of wine, equally accessible to rich and poor, and does not arouse envy in anyone. That is why he is disgusted by those who do not care about how to spend their lives in bliss both on bright days and on sweet nights. That's where the wisdom is: mind and heart stay away from immeasurably smart people. We also accept the faith and rituals of the common people.

SECOND ACT

The head of the guard enters from the right; behind him two guards lead the captive Dionysus, one by the left hand, the other by the right elbow; in the right hand of Dionysus thyrsus. They come to that part of the colonnade where there is a high stone chair on the steps; then the third guard goes to the palace,

from which, after a while, Pentheus emerges in his royal attire.

Chief of the Guard

We have come here, Pentheus, having in our hands (showing Dionysus) this prey, for which you sent us; our path was not in vain. But our beast turned out to be tame; he did not flee, but without compulsion stretched out his hands to us - without turning pale at the same time, no, completely retaining the blush of his cheeks - and with a grin offered us to tie him up and take him away; he remained in his place, thus facilitating my task. I felt sorry for him, and I said: "Sorry, stranger, I'm not taking you away of my own free will, but on the orders of Pentheus, who sent me." (Here the head of the guard makes a short pause; it is clear from his movements that he has to tell unpleasant news and does not know how to do it. Pentheus, who is completely occupied with Dionysus, does not listen to the continuation of his speech.)

But the Bacchantes, your prisoners, whom you seized, chained and imprisoned in the city dungeon - they are no longer there: free, they cheerfully run to the holy meadows, calling on the god Bromius. By themselves, the fetters fell from their feet, and the shutters ceased to hold back the doors - without the intervention of a mortal hand. Yes, the arrival of this man in Thebes was marked by many miracles (noticing that Pentheus does not listen to him); however, the rest is your concern.

(At the very first words of the chief, he went down to Dionysus and glared at him with a greedy gaze; he stood all the time in a calm pose, looking at Pentheus with genuine participation. Finally, the latter gives the guard a sign to leave.) Leave his hands; having fallen into my nets, he will not leave me, no matter how agile he is. (The guard with the chief retreats, remaining, however, close; Pentheus approaches Dionysus even closer, again his eyes glow with an ominous brilliance, like

And yet, stranger, you are not bad-looking ... at least in the taste of women; but it was for their sake that you came to Thebes. Palestra did not grow those long curls of yours, which hang down your shoulders, full of bliss, along the very cheek: and the white color of your skin is of artificial origin: you did not acquire it under the rays of the sun, but in the shade, luring the prey of Aphrodite with your beauty ... ( She suddenly turns away, as if to rid herself of an annoying thought, then slowly climbs the steps, sinks into a chair, and motions to Dionysus to come closer. He obeys.)

So, first of all, tell me where you're from.

I can’t brag about my family, but I’ll answer your question without difficulty; about flowery Tmol you, right, heard?

Yes, I heard; is this the one that surrounds Sardis?

That's where I'm from; Lydia is my motherland.

Why are you introducing these sacraments into Hellas?

I was sent by Dionysus, son of Zeus.

(flashing)

Is there such a Zeus who gives birth to new gods?

Did he give you his orders in a dream or in reality?

He saw, I saw; so he introduced me to his mysteries.

(with mock indifference)

And these sacraments - what do they consist of?

They cannot be known to the uninitiated.

But of what use are they to those who celebrate them?

You cannot hear about it without sin, but it is worth knowing about them.

Pentheus (trying to hide his annoyance)

You cleverly managed to throw dust in my eyes to arouse my curiosity.

The worshipers of impiety are hateful to the sacraments of God.

Pentheus (embarrassed by Dionysus' answer, after a moment's pause)

You say you saw God with your own eyes; what was he like?

What he himself wanted; I didn't manage it.

Again you dodged, giving me a deft but meaningless answer.

He would be foolish if he would give wise answers to the ignorant.

Tell me... Is Thebes the first country you introduce your god into?

All barbarians celebrate his noisy sacraments.

That's why they are much more unreasonable than the Hellenes.

No, in this they are much more intelligent than them; However, every nation has its own faith.

Pentheus (after another pause, trying to appear calm)

And tell me ... do you celebrate your rituals day or night?

Mainly at night: solemnity is characteristic of darkness.

(with an evil laugh)

This is a rotten place of your ministry, slyly designed for women.

And in the daytime, vileness can be invented.

Enough; for your bad inventions you will suffer punishment.

You will also be punished for your ignorance and unholy treatment of God.

How impudent, however, is our Vacchant! In the verbal struggle, he apparently practiced.

Tell me what will happen to me? What punishment will you put me through?

(trying in vain to overcome his embarrassment)

First of all... I'll cut off that delicate lock of yours.

This strand is sacred; I grow it in honor of God.

Then... pass me the thyrsus you have in your hands.

Take it away yourself; This is Dionysus thyrsus.

And I will send you inside the house and put you in prison.

(solemnly)

God Himself will free me whenever I want.

It will be when you, surrounded by your Bacchantes, call him.

Not; and now he is close to us and sees what is happening to me.

Where is he? He doesn't show up in my eyes.

He is where I am; you do not see it because you are wicked.

(jumping up and addressing the guards)

Grab it! He mocks me and Thebes.

(to the guards surrounding him)

I forbid you - prudent unreasonable - to knit me.

And I order them this - I, whose will is more powerful than yours.

You don't know what you want; you don't know what you're doing; you don't know what you are.

I am Pentheus, son of Agave, my father Echion.

(with a contemptuous grin, handing himself over to the guards)

Your name is well chosen to make its bearer unhappy.

Go! Put him in a stable at the manger, so that he can see the darkness of the night around him; dance there. (Pointing to the choir, which with the liveliest interest followed what was happening and now partly prays to him, partly surrounds Dionysus, falling at his feet and trying to catch his hand or the border of his cloak.) And them, whom you brought here as helpers in your vileness , - I will either sell them, or, having weaned their hands from this noisy playing on the tympanum, I will put them on the crosses as my slaves.

(To the guard.) Let's go. (To the chorus, with tenderness.) Do not be afraid: what is not destined to be, that will not happen. (To Pentheus, sternly.) And you will be rewarded for these insults by that Dionysus, whom you do not recognize: by plotting against me, you yourself are taking him to prison. (He leaves with the guards through the middle gate to the palace; Pentheus also leaves after them, after which the doors are tightly closed. Only the choir remains on the stage.)

SECOND STASIM

Aheloev's daughter, virgin mistress Dirk! Didn’t you once take the Zeus baby into your waves, when Zeus the parent took him out of the immortal fire and hid him in his thigh, saying: “Come, Dithyramb, come here, into my male womb: with this name I call you, Bacchus, in example of Thebes"? And you, blessed Dirka, push us away when we want to lead crowned round dances in your country? Why are you rejecting us? Why are you alienating us? Still - we swear by the sweet fruits of the Dionysian vine - you will still remember Bromia!

Antistrophe.

To prove his earthly origin, his birth from the serpent Pentheus - he, who has the father of the earthly Echion - he, this wild monster, is not a mortal husband, but a bloodthirsty giant at war with the gods! Not for long - and he orders to bind us, Bromium priestesses; and already now he keeps our comrade in his house, concluding him in a gloomy prison. Do you see, son of Zeus, Dionysus, your prophets in the grip of inevitability? Appear, bright-faced, descend from Olympus, shaking the thyrsus, and humble the pride of a bloodthirsty husband.

Where are you, Dionysus? On Nisa, the feeder of animals, do you dance tyrson-bearing round dances, or on the Korikian heights? Or, rather, in the wooded gorges of Olympus, where once Orpheus, striking the strings, collected trees with his game, collected wild animals with it? Happy Pieria! yes, Dionysus honors you, he will come to you with his sacraments, and you will resound with his round dances; yes, he will cross the impetuous Axii, and the host of his bacchantes will follow him; he will also pass through Ludius, the father-benefactor, who gives happiness to mortals, whose pure waters fertilize this glorious homeland of horses.

THIRD ACT

FIRST SCENE (COMMOS)

Immediately after the song of the choir, which, after a dull introduction, gradually took on a joyful and triumphant character, is heard from the inner

The Bacchantes, startled with surprise and fear, look around.

Yo, io! Once again I call to you, I, the son of Semele, the son of Zeus!

Coryphee

Yo, io! Lord, Lord, appear in our face, Bromium, Bromium!

Shake the soil of the earth, mighty Earthguard!

Coryphee

Ha! The halls of Pentheus will immediately fall apart. Dionysus in the palace! Worship him!

bacchantes

We worship!

All extend their hands to the palace. A deafening crack is heard, accompanied by a prolonged underground rumble; the facade of the palace trembled, the columns staggered, the gates opened, the whole wall seems ready

collapse.

Coryphee

See how the stone beams of the columns staggered! It's Bromius triumphant inside the palace!

Light the radiant torch of Perun! Ignite, ignite the halls of Pentheus!

Coryphee

Ha! Do you see, do you see the fire surrounding the holy tomb of Semele? This is the flame of the Zeus lightning, which she once left, struck down by a thunderbolt! Fall down, trembling! our lord, the son of Zeus, will appear among us, turning these mansions into a pile of ruins.

They fall to the ground.

SECOND SCENE

In response to the last appeal of Dionysus, a pillar of fire rose from the tomb of Semele and began to approach the staggering palace; while the Bacchantes lie on the ground, not seeing what is happening, the flame covers the entire palace, it seems that it is on fire, but this lasts only a few moments; suddenly the ghostly fire disappears, the palace is still in its place, and in

open his door appears - in the same form as before

What's wrong with you barbarians? Are you so frightened that you fell to the ground? .. And you must have noticed how Bromius shook the palace to its foundations. Get up and take heart, forgetting about trembling fear. (He descends onto the stage; the Bacchantes, recognizing their "prophet", quickly rise and joyfully surround him.)

Coryphee

O you, who gave us the light of blessed Bacchic gifts, with what joy I look at you after my desolate loneliness!

(half-gentle, half-mocking)

That's it! Did you feel despondent when I was brought into the palace, and it seemed that I would be imprisoned in the gloomy dungeon of Pentheus?

Coryphee

But how! Who would be our protector if misfortune happened to you? But how were you released from the bondage of a wicked man?

I freed myself - easily, without any difficulty.

Coryphee

And he did not put your hands in the chains of prisoners?

This is precisely the offense inflicted on him, that he, thinking of knitting me, did not even touch me, but enjoyed himself in his imagination alone. Finding a bull near the manger, near which he ordered me to be locked up, he began to twist his knees and hooves with ropes, with difficulty catching his breath, sweating, biting his lips. Meanwhile, I sat quietly nearby and looked at his efforts. At this time, Bacchus appeared, shook the palace and lit a fire on the grave of his mother; when Pentheus saw this, he - imagining that the palace was on fire - began to rush back and forth, ordering the slaves to carry river water, and all the servants bustled, laboring in vain. and I, calmly leaving the palace, returned to you, not paying attention to Pentheus.

But now it seems to me - judging by the sound of sandals inside the house - that he is going to immediately appear in front of the palace. He'll say something, after all that's happened! But no matter how excited he may be, it will not be difficult for me to resist him; it behooves a wise man to maintain reasonable composure.

THIRD SCENE

Pentheus quickly leaves the palace, accompanied by the head of the guard; the rest of the guard follows them. He is engaged in a lively conversation with the chief, whom he apparently intends to send after the fled Dionysus;

he does not immediately notice the latter.

Imagine what a strange adventure! The stranger who had just been in my power fled, being chained. (He notices Dionysus, who is standing nearby in a half-submissive, half-mocking pose.) But what do I see! it's him. What does it mean? How did you manage to get outside and appear before the doors of my halls?

Stop and replace your anger with peace of mind.

How did you free yourself from the shackles? How did you get outside?

Did I tell you, or did you not hear? - that someone will set me free.

(convulsively squeezing his head with his hands, with signs of severe pain)

Who it? You keep saying one weird thing after another!

The one who bestowed upon mortals the fruitful vine.

The reproach of rage is honorable for Dionysus.

(overcoming his excitement, turns to the head of the guard)

Lock all the gates of the wall surrounding the Kremlin. (The chief with part of the guard retires; Pentheus sighs more freely.)

What do you think? Wouldn't the gods be able to step over the wall?

(mockingly)

Oh yes, you are wise, wise - but still, where wisdom was appropriate, there you did not use it.

Against; that is where I know how to use it, where it is most appropriate.

The head of the guard returns; with him comes a shepherd, who, passing by Dionysus, timidly looks sideways at him, and then weighs Pentheus,

who does not notice him, low bow.

But turn first to this man and hear his message; he came from the mountains to tell you something. (Noticing that Pentheus wants to give the guard a sign to surround him, with a mockery.) And I will remain at your disposal and will not run away.

FOURTH SCENE

Pentheus casts an angry glance over the shepherd; the one after the second bow

begins his apparently memorized speech.

Pentheus, lord of our Theban land! I come from the heights of Cithaeron, which never leave the sparkling cover of white snow...

(cutting him off with an impatient gesture)

What was the important message that made you come?

(hurriedly)

I saw the mighty Bacchantes, sovereign, who fled from our land with a light foot, and I came to tell you and the citizens about their unheard-of and more than amazing deeds ... (Pentheus painfully presses his hands to his heart; the shepherd, in embarrassment, interrupts the speech he has begun and asks in an offended tone. )

But I would like to know whether I should frankly tell you how everything is there, or whether I should moderate my speech; I am afraid of the speed of your decisions, sovereign, I am afraid of your quick-tempered and too commanding disposition.

(quickly and recklessly)

Speak! whatever you say, I guarantee you impunity; (recollecting himself) one should not be angry for the truth. (Noticing the mocking expression on the face of Dionysus, who did not take his eyes off him.) And the more unheard of what you tell me about the Bacchantes, the more severely we will punish him, who taught women these things.

I began, slowly, to drive my cows uphill to pasture - by the time the sun begins to warm the earth with its rays, - suddenly I saw three gatherings of women; one was commanded by Autonoia, the other by your mother Agave, and in front of the third was Ino. They were all in a deep sleep; some rested on spruce branches, others - on oak leaves, with their heads on the ground, as it was more convenient for someone, modestly and decently, and not in the way you say - that they, drugged by wine and the sounds of a flute, retire to the forests, looking for love pleasures .

Pentheus with an angry movement orders the shepherd to get down to business.

And then your mother heard the lowing of the horned cows and, standing among the Bacchantes, she called out to them to shake off the sleep from their members. They, freeing their eyelids from sweet sleep, rose to their feet, presenting a wonderful spectacle with their beautiful decency - everyone, both young and old, but especially virgins. And first of all, they let their hair down over their shoulders, attached non-brides, if anyone had time to untie the knots, and girded these spotted skins with snakes that licked their cheeks. Others, meanwhile, who, after a recent birth, had chest pains from a rush of milk, and the child was left at home, took chamois or wild wolf cubs in their hands and fed them with white milk. After that, they were crowned with green ivy, oak or flowering yew. And one, taking a thyrsus, hit it against a rock - a soft stream of water immediately splashed out of the rock; the other threw the thyrsus on the ground - God sent her the key of wine; whoever wanted to drink a white drink needed to rake the ground with the ends of his fingers in order to find streams of milk; and sweet honey oozed from the ivy leaves of the thyrsus. In a word, if you were there, at the sight of this, you would turn with a prayer to the god whom you now blaspheme.

New impatient movement on the part of Pentheus.

Then we, the shepherds of the bulls and the shepherds, gathered to talk and talk with each other; and here one of ours - he liked to wander around the city and spoke red - said to us, turning to everyone (mimicking the mocking tone of the speaker): “Hey you, sons of the holy peaks! royal gratitude? We decided that he was talking business, and we ambushed ourselves in the foliage of the bushes so as to remain hidden.

At the appointed hour, they began to shake the thyrsos in a Bacchic dance, calling with one voice "Iacchus" - Bromius, Zeus's son. And the whole mountain began to move in Bacchic jubilation, all the animals; there was no object that would not spin in the run. Here Agave swept close past me; I jumped out to grab her, leaving the bush in which I was hiding; then she cried out: "Hurry, my swift hounds! These men want to catch us; follow me! grab the thyrsos, but follow me!"

We fled to safety; otherwise the Bacchantes would have torn us apart. They, unarmed, rushed to the cattle, chewing grass. And then one began to carry out manual reprisals against a lanky cow, mooing under her hands; others tore apart and carried the heifers; here a rib flew into the air, here a cloven hoof fell to the ground; and the animal itself hung on the spruce, drenched and bleeding. The ferocious bulls, which used to take on the horns of anyone who teased them, now fell to the ground under thousands of girlish hands, and the covers of their meat spread faster than you could close your royal eyes ... (Pentheus raises his hand in disgust, protesting against the sinister omen of the last words; the shepherd, noticing his awkwardness, lowers his head in fright; after a short pause, he continues.)

Having done this, they rose like a flock of birds, in a quick run they rushed to the foothill plains, which, irrigated by Asop, bring the Thebans a rich harvest, to Gisia and Erythram, lying at the foot of the Cithaeron rocks; bursting in there like enemies, they began to smash and overturn everything that fell into their hands. They took the guys out of the houses, whom they put on their shoulders, he, not being tied, kept on them and did not fall on the black earth. neither honey nor iron; they put fire on their curls, and he did not burn them.

The peasants, seeing that their property was being destroyed by the Bacchantes, took up arms in irritation; but then, sir, we had to see an unheard-of sight. Their sharpened weapons failed to taste the blood; and the Bacchantes, throwing thyrsus at them, inflicted wounds on them and put them to flight - women of men! but, apparently, the matter was not without God. And then they returned from whence they came, to the very keys that God had given them; there they washed off the blood from themselves, and the snakes licked the drops that hung on their cheeks, cleansing their face.

So, lord, accept this god, whoever he is, into our city; besides his other greatness, he is said to have bestowed upon mortals the vine, the comforter of the mourners. And there is no wine - there is no Cyprida, there are no more joys for people.

Pentheus, immersed in deep thought, mechanically makes a sign to the shepherd,

for him to leave; he walks away, shaking his head sadly.

FIFTH SCENE

Pentheus is still standing without saying a word; choir, with joyful tension following

behind the story of the shepherd, apparently triumphant.

Coryphee

No matter how terrible it is to express your opinion openly before the king, but it will be expressed: there is no god to whom Dionysus would yield!

(waking up from his stupor, throws a fierce look at the Bacchantes)

Not! Closer and closer, like a fire, the gloating joy of the Bacchantes seizes us, deeply disgracing us before the Hellenes. You should not hesitate. (To the chief.) You go to the gates of Electra; tell me to come there to meet me all the shield-bearers, all the riders on their fast horses, all who shake a light pelta and pull the bowstring with their hands. Yes, we will go on a campaign... (with a painful laugh) against the Bacchantes! it is unbearable to endure from women what we endure.

The chief leaves. Dionysus, all the while standing at some distance from Pentheus, approaches him and in a calm voice, maintaining all his composure,

tells him.

I know, Pentheus, you do not obey my words; yet, despite all the insults that I suffer from you, I advise you to remain calm and not raise weapons against God: Dionysus will not allow you to take the Bacchantes from the blessed mountain.

(glancing at Dionysus with a half-angry, half-frightened look)

Do not teach me! You escaped from the shackles - cherish your freedom. Or do you want me to twist your arms again?

I would rather, in your place, offer him a sacrifice, like a mortal god, than in annoyance, go against the pricks.

I will sacrifice to him - and in order to honor him according to his deserts, I will carry out a terrible massacre in the gorges of Cithaeron.

(all with the same imperturbable indifference)

You will all run away; but it will be a shame when you, with your copper shields, turn the rear before the thyrses of the Bacchantes.

With what an intolerable stranger fate has brought me together! Whatever you do with him - he does not want to be silent.

(looks triumphantly at Pentheus, as if preparing a decisive blow; but little by little his face and movements begin to express compassion for the young king, he approaches him, puts his hand on his shoulder and with a tone of sincere

participation tells him)

My friend! there is still room for improvement.

(fearful and incredulous)

Which? The one that I would obey my own slaves?

I will bring the women here myself, without resorting to weapons.

Thank you! this is a treacherous plot against me!

Where is the betrayal when I want to save you with my plan.

You, right, agreed on this in order to get the opportunity to serve Bacchus always!

Yes, you are right; In this I agreed with God.

Wants to take Pentheus by the hand; he stands in confusion, not knowing what to decide;

but then he throws away the hand of Dionysus and addresses the guards.

Bring me a weapon. (to Dionysus) And you stop reasoning!

Dionysus

taking advantage of his perplexity, insinuatingly tells him)

Listen...would you like to see them camped out there together on the mountain?

(quickly lowers his head; blood rushes to his face, in his eyes again that

the same unkind expression as in the first act; as if unconsciously

words uttered in an undertone burst out of him at cm)

Oh yeah! I would give a heap of gold for it.

(quickly changing tone, with a sneer)

Where did you get such a passionate desire?

(trying to control himself, embarrassed)

A wish? Not! it will hurt me to see them weighed down with wine.

(poisonous)

How so? Do you want to look at what hurts you?

(with increasing embarrassment)

Well, yes ... but silently, sitting under the fir trees.

(with a tone of feigned concern)

in vain; they will hunt you down even if you come in secret.

(trying in vain to get out)

Why secretly? I will go openly; you told the truth.

(holding out his hand to Pentheus)

So I'll lead you and you'll be on your way?

(convulsively squeezing the hand of Dionysus)

Yes, let's go quickly; I regret every minute.

(indifferently)

So dress in linen.

(surprised)

Why is this? Have I changed from a man to a woman?

And so that they would not kill you if they recognized you as a man.

Bad idea! Yes, you are wise, I noticed this a long time ago.

(good-naturedly)

It was Dionysus who made me smart.

How can you call good what you want to incline me to?

Very simply: we will enter the palace and I will dress you up.

Yes, but what outfit? really in the female?

Dionysus nods his head.

No, I'm ashamed! (He wants to go to the palace.)

(shrugs contemptuously)

Apparently you don't particularly want to look at the Bacchantes. (Pretends to want to leave.)

(quickly stopping, following the departing Dionysus)

And tell me... what is this outfit that you want to dress me in?

(also stopping)

I will let your hair down so that it hangs from your head to your shoulders.

Pentheus (after a moment's thought, nods his head approvingly, then hesitantly

continues)

And what is ... the second accessory of my outfit?

Dress to toe, and a miter on the head.

(angrily)

Would you like to put something else on me?

(good-naturedly)

I will give you a thyrsus in your hand and I will put on you a spotted deer skin.

No, I'm not able to put on a woman's dress!

So, would you rather shed blood by giving battle to the Bacchae?

(with a sigh)

Better let it be anything, so long as I do not be a laughingstock for the bacchantes.

(thinking a little, happily)

You're right; should first go for reconnaissance.

(approvingly)

This is more prudent than to get new ones to the old troubles.

But how can I pass through the city without the Cadmeians noticing me?

We will walk through the deserted streets; I will be your guide.

(after a short pause)

We will enter the palace first; there I will decide what is best.

I agree; I am ready to serve you everywhere.

I'm going. (He steps unsteadily up the steps; passing by the guards, with dignity.) And then I will either go there with weapons, or (in an undertone to Dionysus, who followed him to the colonnade) I will listen to your advice! (Goes to the palace.)

(seeing that Pentheus has left, he suddenly turns to the chorus)

Our victory, friends; he is already heading for the net; he will see the Bacchantes and as a punishment he will accept death from them.

Dionysus, now it's up to you - and you are close - we will punish him. First of all, deprive him of his mind, bringing on him a slight insanity; being of sound mind, he will never want to wear a woman's dress, and having lost his mind, he will put it on. I want him to become a laughingstock to the Thebans, after his former terrible threats, led in a woman's attire through the city.

But I will go and put on him an outfit in which he will go to the realm of shadows, killed by the hand of his mother; he recognizes the son of Zeus, Dionysus, a god as formidable to the lawless as gentle to the pious people. (Goes to the palace.)

THIRD STASIM

Are we destined to finally take a light foot in the all-night round dances, frolicking in Bacchic fun and throwing our heads towards the damp night wind? So the doe plays, rejoicing in the luxurious greenery of the meadows, when she escaped from a terrible round-up, passed the beaters, jumped over the intricately woven nets. And so, while the hunter shouts to his hounds, accelerating their agility, she, stormy-legged, although exhausted in her run, rushes along the valley along the river, rejoicing at the solitude in the greenery of a densely leafy forest.

What is wisdom, what is the most beautiful gift to man from the gods, if not to humble the neck of enemies with a victorious right hand? And what is beautiful is also cute forever.

Antistrophe.

God's power does not move quickly, but you can trust it; she punishes mortals who worship foolishness and, for the sake of a reckless dream, deny honor to the gods. For a long time they wait for the wicked in a cunning ambush, but then they seize him. And they are right: one should not rise above faith in one's opinions and thoughts; it does not take much effort of thought to be convinced of the power of what we call a deity, to recognize as eternal and innate those truths that have been the subject of faith for so long.

What is wisdom, what is the most beautiful gift to man from the gods, if not to humble the neck of enemies with a victorious right hand? And what is beautiful is also cute forever.

Blessed is the swimmer who escapes the storm and reaches the harbour; blessed is he who has subdued the anxiety in his soul. Otherwise, there is no lasting happiness; and in wealth and power, another may outstrip you. True, there are other hopes, hovering in myriads among myriads of mortals; but some of them ultimately come down to the achievement of wealth, while others do not come true. Not! whose life is happy in its momentary gifts, I also consider him blessed.

FOURTH ACT

Dionysus leaves the palace; his face expresses concern and anxiety.

Slowly descending the steps, he quickly turns to the palace.

You, ready to see what is sinful to see, striving for what is disastrous to strive for - I call you, Pentheus! Appear in front of the palace, let me see you in the clothes of a woman, a maenad, a bacchante ... (recollecting herself, insinuatingly) your mother's spies and her joy!

(leaves the palace)

A long-sleeved female chiton surrounds his camp, a non-bred hangs from his shoulder, his hair is loose, a miter is on his head, his eyes wander. His gait is unsteady, the old slave supports him. Stepping into the sun, he cries out in fright and convulsively raises his hand to his eyes; after a while he

fearfully looking sideways at Dionysus, he speaks to him in a voice trembling with horror.

What happened with me? It seems to me that I see two suns, I see Thebes twice, the whole city of seven gates ... it seems to me that you are walking ahead of us in the form of a bull and that horns have grown on your head ... Are you really a beast? You look like a bull...

(trying to calm him down)

From this it is clear that God, who was not disposed towards us before, accompanies us like a friend; (mockingly) now you see what you should see.

Pentheus (involuntarily lowering his eyes, peers into his outfit; little by little his horror

turns into childish fun)

What do you think? Am I standing in Ino's posture? Or rather Agave, my mother?

(nodding head approvingly)

Looking at you, I imagine I see one of them; and in appearance you can be mistaken for the daughter of Cadmus. (He heads to the exit to the right, but then suddenly stops; it is clear that he is struggling with himself; he turns around and looks at Pentheus with a look full of tenderness and compassion.) However, this lock of your hair is not in place; it does not hang as I fitted it under the miter.

Apparently, it had already separated in the palace, when I bowed my head and tossed it in a Bacchic dance.

It's okay, I'll fix it again - it's my business to look after you. (Goes up to Pentheus.) Keep your head straight.

Okay, decorate me; That's why I gave myself to you.

Dionysus

looks at Pentheus and tenderly says to him)

Also, your belt does not sit tight enough, and the folds of your dress do not go down to your feet in a strict order.

And so it seems to me, at least on the right side; but on the other hand, the dress hangs correctly to the very heel.

(adjusting Pentheus' dress)

Oh, you will call me the first of your friends when you see the Bacchantes... (to himself) much more chaste than you expect.

Having finished his work, he heads for the exit; but Pentheus, whom, as it were,

flushed with heat at the mention of the Bacchantes, stops him.

And tell me ... in which hand should I take the thyrsus, in order to become even more like a Bacchante? To the right or to that?

It should be lifted with the right hand, simultaneously with the right foot.

Pentheus makes the indicated movements.

I'm glad your mind has left the old track.

And will I be able to lift on my shoulders the whole of Cithaeron with its valleys and with the Bacchantes themselves?

You can if you want. Before your mind was sick, but now it is what it should be.

Shouldn't we take crowbars with us? Or should I lift the mountain with my hands, resting my shoulder on the top?

(adapting to the mood of Pentheus)

Do not destroy the temples of the nymphs and the dwellings of Pan, where he plays the flute!

You're right; women should not be conquered by force; I'd rather hide under the fir trees.

You will hide as you should hide, (with special emphasis) appearing as an insidious spy of maenads.

Pentheus (who, at the mention of maenads, was again engulfed in heat, with sensual laughter,

and his face becomes more and more crazy expression)

And you know, it seems to me that I will capture them among the bushes, like birds, entangled in the sweet nets of love!

That's why you're going to lie in wait for them; and you'll probably capture them... (to yourself) if you don't get captured first.

Lead me right through Thebes; I am the only citizen of this city who has decided on such a feat.

Yes, you alone sacrifice yourself for the city, alone; for the same, battles are coming to you, which you deserve. (After a new extreme effort on himself.) Let's go there; I will be your... (after some hesitation) saving guide; and from there it will take you away ... (suddenly) another.

(with a blissful smile)

Do you mean my mother?

(with a clairvoyant expression, voice trembling with pity)

High above all the people...

That's why I'm going there!

Back you will carry ...

What a blessing!

In mother's arms...

No, it's too big!

(with an expression of horror, covering his face with his hands)

Oh yes, so gorgeous...

True, I deserve it ... (Forgetting to finish the sentence, he leaves with an uneven gait, supported by his slave, throwing his head back and swaying his thyrsus; all his movements breathe with the consciousness of unheard-of greatness and bliss.)

(still shaken by the scene he saw in his mind)

Oh, you are great, great, and great is the suffering with which you doomed yourself; for the same, your glory will ascend to heaven. Stretch out your hands, Agave and you, her sisters, daughters of Cadmus; I am bringing a young man to you for a terrible battle, and I will be the winner, yes, Bromius. (To Hor.) What all this means, the deed itself will show you. (Walks quickly.)

FOURTH STASIM

Ride on, quick dogs of Fury, ride on the mountain where the daughters of Cadmus dance; infect them with rabies against the one in women's clothes, against the mad spy of the maenads. The mother will be the first to see him, how he is waiting for her friends from a bare rock or tree, and will call to the maenads: “Who is this scout, Bacchantes, who himself came to the mountain, yes, to the mountain, to spy on the Cadmeians who fled into the mountains? Who is his mother? Not a woman she gave birth to him, no; this is the offspring of some kind of lioness or Libyan Gorgon.

Antistrophe.

Didn't he have a wrong thought and an unholy desire to go on a crazy and sacrilegious campaign against yours, Bacchus, and your mother of the mysteries, in order to defeat the invincible by force? No, selfless devotion to the god of man is better: it only gives mortals a painless life. I do not envy the sages; There is another, lofty, obvious good, towards which it is joyful to strive: it consists in spending days and nights in adorning our life and godly fun, in order to shun everything that is outside faith and truth, and to render honor to the gods.

Appear, manifest Judgment, appear with a sword in your hand, strike with a decisive blow in his heart, who has forgotten about God, and about faith, and about truth, his earthly son Echion!

Appear as a bull, or a many-headed serpent, or a fire-breathing lion; appear, Bacchus, let him, the catcher of Bacchantes, fall into the disastrous crowd of maenads and, laughing, throw a noose on him.

FIFTH ACT

FIRST SCENE

The slave who accompanied Pentheus to Cithaeron runs onto the stage covered in dust, barely catching his breath. Seeing the palace of Pentheus, he rushes to his knees and

calls out crying.

O house, once happy throughout Hellas, the house of the Sidonian elder who sowed the serpent's seed in the field of Ares! Although I am a slave, I cry for you. (Sobs prevent him from continuing.)

Coryphee

What happened? Do you bring news from the Bacchantes?

Pentheus, son of Echion, is dead!

bacchantes

O lord Dionysus, you have proved your divine greatness.

(jumping up, threateningly)

What did you say? What do your words mean? Are you happy, women, grief of my masters?

bacchantes

We are strangers, and in foreign songs we bless our god; the time of humility and fear of fetters has passed!

Do you think that Thebes is so poor in people,

Calls with signs the guards, servants and citizens, more and more

running to the square; all, stricken with terror, remain silent.

bacchantes

(noticing his triumph)

Dionysus, yes, Dionysus, not Thebes, rules over us.

(shaking head sadly)

You are forgiven; but still, women, it is a sin to rejoice when such a misfortune has happened.

bacchantes

Teach us, tell us, by what death did an unjust husband die, the instigator of an unjust deed?

Leaving behind the last farms of our Theban land and passing the bed of Asopus, we began to climb the slope of Cithaeron, Pentheus, I, who accompanied my master, and that stranger who was our guide to the place of the festival. First we settled down in a green oak forest, trying not to make a rustle with our feet and not to speak loudly so that we could see everything without being visible ourselves. Before us was a hollow, surrounded by steep cliffs, watered by streams; here, in the dense shade of the pines, maenads sat, doing pleasant work. Some, in which the thyrsus had lost its greenness, again twined it with ivy; others, cheerful, like stallions, from which the motley yoke was removed, mutually answering each other, sang a Bacchic song.

The unfortunate Pentheus, who did not see this crowd of women, said: “Stranger, from the place where we are standing, I cannot see these self-proclaimed maenads; but from the cliff, climbing a tall spruce, I could see exactly all the sinful deeds of the Bacchantes ". Here I had to be a witness to a true miracle created by a stranger. Grabbing by the last offspring a spruce branch that rose to the sky, he began to bend it, bend it, until he bent it to the black earth, and the tree described an arc, like a bow or a wheel, to which the compass drew a curved line of its circumference; so the stranger, with his own hands, bent that mountain spruce to the ground, doing a deed not permitted to a mortal. Then, placing Pentheus on this tree seat, he let the spruce straighten up, little by little, so that she would not throw him off: so she straightened up, resting her top on the sky, and my master was sitting on the top.

But better than he could see the maenads, they saw him. I had barely had time to make sure that he was sitting on a tree, as the foreigner disappeared, but a voice was heard from the ether, obviously, Dionysus: “It’s up to you, virgins! I brought to you the one who mocks you, me and my mysteries ; deal with him!" Simultaneously with these words, a pillar of sacred fire lit up between heaven and earth. The ether fell silent, the leaves of the mountain oak forest did not move, the voices of animals were not heard; but they, vaguely perceiving his voice with their ears, got up from their place and, perplexed, began to look around. He called to them again; when the daughters of Cadmus clearly heard the order of Bacchus, they rushed with the speed of doves, straining their legs in a hasty run, and mother Agave, and her sisters, and all the Bacchantes, moreover, inspired by the inspiration of God, they jumped over tree stumps and boulders with which winter torrents cluttered the basin.

When they saw my master on the spruce, then, climbing a rock that towered against the spruce, they first began to throw stones and spruce branches at him with all their might, like darts; others threw thyrsos at Pentheus, in a miserable shooting. But this did not lead to anything: he sat at a height inaccessible to their efforts, although he himself, unfortunate, was in a hopeless situation. In the end, having broken the oak branches, they began to tear the roots of the spruce with these non-iron crowbars. Seeing that they did not achieve anything by this, Agave shouted to them: "Surround the tree, Bacchantes, and grab hold of its branches; then we will catch the beast and prevent it from divulging the secret dances of God." Then they seized the spruce with a thousand hands and pulled it out of the ground.

High on the top sat Pentheus - and from this height he flew down and crashed to the ground. There was a tearing cry - he realized the proximity of trouble. Mother first, like a priestess, began a bloody deed and rushed at him. He tore off the miter from his head so that she, the unfortunate Agave, would recognize him and not commit murder; he touched her cheek with his hand and said: "My mother, I am your son, Pentheus, whom you gave birth to in the house of Echion; have pity on me, my mother, do not kill your son for my sins!" But she, foaming at the mouth and rolling her wandering eyes, possessed by Bacchus, was not in her mind, and his entreaties were in vain; grabbing his left hand with her own hands, she put her foot on the chest of the unfortunate man and pulled out his arm and shoulder - not with her strength, no, God himself penetrated her hand with his power. Ino did the same on the other side, tearing the body of her victim; Autonoia and the whole crowd of Bacchantes joined her. A wild roar hung over the valley; the groans of the king were heard while he was breathing, and the jubilation of the Bacchantes; one carried away the arm, the other leg along with the sandal; they tore off the meat from the ribs, exposing the bones, and carried the body of Pentheus with their reddened hands.

Now the parts of the torn body lie in various places, some under the gloomy rocks, others in the dense foliage of the forest, and it is not easy to collect them; his poor head, the mother herself, having torn it off with her own hands, stumbled on the tip of the thyrsus and, imagining that this is the head of a mountain lion, carries it straight through Cithaeron, leaving the sisters in round dances of maenads. She is approaching the gates of our city, proud of her unfortunate prey, calling on Bacchus, her fellow hunter, her assistant in a perfect deed, who sent her a glorious victory ... to him, over whose victorious trophy she will shed many tears!

SECOND SCENE (EMMELIA)

Let us honor Bacchus with a round dance, rejoice over the misfortune that befell Pentheus, the serpent offspring; him, who, putting on a woman's outfit and taking in his hands the beautiful thyrsus, which doomed him to hell, followed the bull that directed him to death. Glory to you, Cadmeian Bacchantes! you deserved a glorious song of victory - on the mountain, on your tears! What a beautiful trophy to grab the bloody hand of your child!

THIRD SCENE (COMMOS)

Agave appears on the right side of the stage, with a crowd of Theban Bacchantes with her. Agave is still a young woman, in full bloom of her matronal beauty. Her flaming cheeks testify to the Bacchic delight that seized her, her wandering eyes - that this delight has already turned into insanity. Her tunic is stained with blood; at the end of her thyrsus she carries over her left shoulder,

bacchantes

Translated by F. F. Zelinsky

viewers.

all extraneous antistrophes are removed again.

Coming from Asiatic land, leaving holy Tmolus, we bear a pleasant burden in honor of the god Bromius, we serve a sweet service, proclaiming Bacchus.

Antistrophe 1.

Antistrophe 2.

Antistrophe 3.

Characters

Chorus of the Lydian Bacchantes

Servant of Pentheus

Second Herald

The action takes place in Thebes in front of the palace of Cadmus.

Prologue

Dionysus
The son of Zeus, Dionysus, I am with the Thebans.
Here once was Semele, Cadmus' daughter,
She brought me into the world prematurely
Struck by Zeves' fire.
From a god, becoming a man in appearance,
I approach the jets of native rivers.
Here is the grave of the Mother of Perun:
At the very palace, the wreckage of the house
Still smoking - they still live
Heavenly fire, proud Hera
On my mother unquenchable anger ...
Thanks to Cadmus: made impregnable
He is the daughter's sanctuary; his
From all sides I hid the grapes
Wrapped around with tassels of delicate greenery.
Leaving the arable land of the golden Lydia,
And Phrygia, and Persia fields,
Burnt by midday rays,
And the walls of Bactria, and the Medes
Having tasted the winter cold, I am an Arab
Happy visited and walked around
All Asia, along the coast of the sea
Salty stretched out: in the cities
Beautiful towers rise
And the Greek lives there with the barbarian.
I whirled everyone in an inspired dance
And dedicated them to their mysteries,
To be my clear deity for mortals.
Therefore, from the cities of Hellas
I, Thebes, announced you first
Delight in song, dressed up in non-brides
And in his hands he gave an ivy-covered thyrsus,
What mother's sisters - who would have thought? -
Zeus was not recognized in me as a son
And they claimed that, having sinned
With a mortal, mother attributed the Veil
Your feminine sin; which is cleverly written
That fable of Cadmus and that of Zeus to Semelu
Killed for a boldly contrived marriage.
For this I am furious at home
Made me quit: losing my mind,
They have now gone to Kieferon
In bacchanal clothes, with a thirst for orgies
In the chest, and how much in the kingdom of Cadmus is
To the women's people - all with them together
I forced to leave the hearths,
Now under the canopy of firs in a frenzy
The homeless wander the rocks.
Yes, city, you will feel now
What does it mean to shun the mysteries of Bromium.
And I will sanctify the memory of my mother,
Appearing to people as that mighty god,
Who was born to Zeus by her.
The honor and power of the king here gave Cadmus
Pentheus, son of Agave's daughter.
He is a theomachist, and I never
Did not make a libation, and in prayers
Doesn't want to mention. Let the king
And other Thebans will be convinced
What exactly am I God. And when things
I will arrange it here, and I will go to other lands.
But if the Thebans move with the army,
To return women from Kiferon,
I will give them a fight, becoming the head of the Bacchantes.
So that's why, changing the appearance,
From a god I became a man.
And you, who left Tmol with me,
You, Lydia's pets, are friends
In the way and power - you now, tympanum
Raising the Phrygian over his head,
The gift of Rhea-mother and mine,
Crowd around the palace of Pentheus:
Let the loud beats gather
Here the Thebans. I'm on Kieferon
I'll go now to my new bacchantes,
And I will intertwine light dances.

parod

During the last words Dionysus enters the orchestra choir Lydian Bacchantes.

choir
Lands of Asia, where are you?
Sacred tar, you are abandoned! My sweet work.
I will raise languor to the glory of Bromium,
To the god Bacchus I call: evoe!
Get out of the way, out of the way!
Hide in the houses, and the mouth reverently
Let them close: I will sing Dionysus,
As I praise him everywhere and always.
Stanza I
Oh, how happy you are, mortal,
If, in peace with the gods,
You will know their mysteries;
If, rejoicing on high,
Bacchus of pure delights
You will fill a timid soul.
Happy if you are involved
Orgy of mother Cybele;
If, shaking thyrsus,
Ivy crowned with greenery,
Serve Dionysus in the world.
Go, bacchantes, go!
You, God and God's son,
Take home Dionysus!
From the mountains of Phrygia to the stogons of Hellas
Take Bacchus home.
Antistrophe I
The thunders of Zeus roared -
The pangs of childbirth have arrived:
Not informing, vomited
Bromia mother from the womb
And under lightning
She ended her life prematurely.
But he accepted the regurgitated
Zeus into his bosom immediately,
And, melting from Hera's son,
He has it in the thigh artfully
Fastened with a gold buckle.
When the time came for him,
He gave birth to the cuckolded god,
From snakes he made a wreath for him:
Since then, this wild prey
The maenad wraps around the brow.
Stanza II
You, the cradle of Semele,
Thebes, get married with ivy!
Dress with delicate foliage,
Purple yew berries!
Bacchus be fulfilled, city,
With the greens of oak and spruce!
And white brushes
More on our motley unbred!
The playful thyrsus will vouchsafe you to Bacchus, -
And the whole country will dance for you,
Where Dionysus will rush his faces...
He rushes uphill, and the crowd of women
Waiting for him there will not wait.
From machines and from weaving
Dionysus repulsed them in delight.
Antistrophe II
Crete holy vale,
The gloomy shelter of the Kurets,
You are ripe for the birth of Zeus.
With a triple crest on the helmet
There's a corybanty hoop
Found dressed in leather.
The tympanum hummed wildly:
I wanted to merge with sweet sounds
Phrygian flutes; the tympanum was given to Rhea,
But they began to sing to the hum of his bacchantes.
Rhea gave it to the satyrs:
The ringing skin drove them crazy.
The trinity saints
His ringing amuses round dances,
Our king Dionysus loves them.
epod
Oh, how I love in the glades,
When I'm on a wild run
Leaving behind the light squad,
In languor I will fall to the ground,
She is dressed in a holy non-bride.
Aiming for the Phrygian mountains,
I craved food for a predator:
For fresh goat blood
Chased up the hillside...
But, whoa! It sounded: “Oh Bacchus, evoe!”
The earth flows with milk, and wine, and bee nectar,
The incense tar is smoked with smoke.
Then Dionysus will spin...
And now it is already worn by a whirlwind:
He gentle curls
Will dissolve in the wind.
Here is a torch burning in the mountains flashed
On the sacred thyrsus
And merged with the Bacchic song
Calling clicks:
“To me, my bacchantes,
To me, my bacchantes,
The beauty of Mount Paktola!
Gilded tympanums
Let them buzz hard!
Sing Dionysus,
jubilant god,
In your Phrygian way!
Delicate flute sacred sounds
May the mountainous path be sweetened for you!”
And the call has not yet ceased,
And the bacchante in a fast run
Next to Bacchus is already rushing:
Like a herd of foals
Near the uterus jumps frisky.

Episode one

Included Tiresias.

Tiresias
Hey, who's at the gate? Come quickly
And call me from the chambers of Cadmus,
That our city fortified with towers,
Coming from the countries of Sidon. report back
What awaits him Tiresias.

One of the guards leaves for the palace.

What for -
He knows himself. Condition -
I, the old one, he, the oldest, concluded:
Take thyrsos and, throwing on nonbrides,
Ivy to wrap gray heads.
Cadmus
(leaving the palace)
Oh dear friend! I couldn't get out
He recognized the wise by his voice.
I'm coming. Look how dressed up!
Yes, as much as we can, I want
To exalt Dionysus today:
The revealed god is my grandson after my daughter.
You are a skilled man, my Tiresias,
And I, the old man, entrust the old man:
Isn't it true, you show me where to dance
And where, stopping, shake
Gray head? I am so strong
In myself I felt that day and night
Ready to knock on the ground with the thyrsus of Bacchus:
Fun takes years off our shoulders.
Tiresias
It's the same with me, Cadmus, - I got younger
And I will go to the Bacchic round dance.
Cadmus
But isn't it better for us to get to the mountain?
Tiresias
But shall we not lessen the honor of God?
Cadmus
Should I, an old man of an old man, be a guide?
Tiresias
God Himself, O Cadmus, will make our way easier for us.
Cadmus
Are we alone in the game of citizens?
Tiresias
Alas! There were no more smart ones.
Cadmus
Why delay further! Here is my hand.
Tiresias
Here's mine, weave it with yours.
Cadmus
No, it is not for me to despise the gods - I am mortal.
Tiresias
Yes, it is in vain for us to be wise before God.
The traditions of the fathers are as old as time,
And where are the words that will overthrow them,
At least you hovered in the heights of the mind?
Perhaps they will say to me: “And how not ashamed?
The old man gathered to dance and ivy
He wrapped his forehead!” Is it somewhere
God indicated to us that the young one is dancing,
And not an old man in honor of Bacchus? No, honor
From all equally pleasing to the god Bacchus:
Fans are not divided by Dionysus.
Cadmus
Tiresias, the sun does not shine for you;
It is my clear duty to warn you.
Here is King Pentheus, who received the throne from me,
Hurry here. Oh, how excited he is!
Will my grandson tell us something in an angry speech?

Included Pentheus.

Pentheus
I left the country - an idle way!
I hear bad news from everywhere.
An unexpected misfortune befell us:
At home, the Theban women abandoned their children;
In bacchic madness they
Wandering in the mountains, overgrown with forest,
And the god Dionysus - what a god,
I don’t know - they revere a violent dance.
Among their swarms full of wine
There are craters, and our Bacchantes
Secretly, one by one, into the thicket of the forest
They run - to share a bed with a man!
In appearance - inspired maenads,
But Aphrodite is dearer to them than Bacchus.
I have already caught others: having tied my hands,
In prison, now they are guarded by people.
And those that we have not yet caught,
On Kiferon I will catch everyone:
Ino, Agave, what is from Echion
She gave birth to me, Actaeon's mother -
I understand Autonoia - firmly
I order them to be chained in iron,
Perhaps then their demons will pass.
Yes, they say, some kind of sorcerer
He came from Lydia to us in Thebes ...
All in golden curls head
And fragrant, ruddy from his face,
And he has the bliss of Aphrodite
In eyes; deceiver this day and night
Spends with girls - teaches them
He is the orgies of a jubilant god ...
Well, if he gets me, then knock
On the ground thyrsus, shake the curls
It won't be long - I'll take off my head.
He dares to call Bacchus a god!
He says that in Zeus' thigh
He was sewn up - that pathetic little baby,
Whom by heavenly fire Zeus
Incinerated, and at the same time the mother,
For false boasting about marriage!
Everyone knows this, and really impudent,
Whoever he was, he did not deserve blasphemy
Shameful noose? Ba! What do I see! News!
Here's a miracle! Tiresias the Wonderworker
And mother's father, as if laughing,
In variegated non-brides, with thyrsus in their hands
Gathered to serve Bacchus! Grandpa, can I
Am I honoring old age, losing its meaning?
Will you drop the ivy? From thyrsus hand
Will you finally free, old man?
(Teiresias.)
All you, Tiresias? It looks like you want it again
Introducing God to the Thebans, tell fortunes
Take some money for birds and for sacrifices!
Oh, if not for the gray head
Saved you, would you sit
Now in chains, there, among the Bacchantes,
For your vicious orgies!
No, the rite where wives are served
Grape juice, I do not recognize it as pure.
Corypheus
Madman! No gods, no Cadmus to honor,
Who sowed the ear of the earth,
You don’t want to, and you only disgrace the family!
Tiresias
When the whirl is smart and the subject
Skillfully chosen by him - let the speech be smooth
Captivates hearts. Well, Pentheus, just a word
Easy to control, just like a smart husband,
Mind is not visible in the gloss of your words.
And that citizen is harmful, if, speechy
And bold with power, he is devoid of meaning.
Are you laughing at our new god:
Oh, if I could inspire you
How glorious he will be throughout Hellas!
Listen, my son: two beginnings in the world
The essence of the main. One is Demeter the mother
(She's the Earth; call it whatever you want).
She feeds us only dry food;
Her gifts were supplemented by the son of Semele:
He invented wet food for us, -
That wine juice, the delight of all sorrows.
In it, he gave us a dream, oblivion
Daily worries - there is no other way to find