Dio. Nay, they will track thee, though thou come secretly.[1]
Pen. Well, I will go openly; thou wert right to say so.
Dio. Am I to be thy guide? wilt thou essay the road?
Pen. Lead on with all speed, I grudge thee all delay.[2]
Dio. Array thee then in robes of fine linen.
Pen. Why so? Am I to enlist among women after being a man?
Dio. They may kill thee, if thou show thy manhood there.
Pen. Well said! Thou hast given me a taste of thy wit already.
Dio. Dionysus schooled me in this lore.
Pen. How am I to carry out thy wholesome advice?
Dio. Myself will enter thy palace and robe thee.
Pen. What is the robe to be? a woman’s? Nay, I am ashamed.
Dio. Thy eagerness to see the Mænads goes no further.
Pen. But what dress dost say thou wilt robe me in?
Dio. Upon thy head will I make thy hair grow long.
Pen. Describe my costume further.
Dio. Thou wilt wear a robe reaching to thy feet; and on thy head shall be a snood.
Pen. Wilt add aught else to my attire?
Dio. a thyrsus in thy hand, and a dappled fawn-skin.
Pen. I can never put on woman’s dress.
Dio. Then wilt thou cause bloodshed by coming to blows with the Bacchanals.
Pen. Thou art right. Best go spy upon them first.
Dio. Well, e’en that is wiser than by evil means to follow evil ends.
