And tarried, making easy this my task. 440
Then shamed I said, "Not, stranger, of my will,
But by commands of Pentheus, lead I thee."
The captured Bacchanals thou didst put in ward,
And in the common prison bind with chains,
Fled to the meadows are they, loosed from bonds, 445
And dance and call on Bromius the God.
The fetters from their feet self-sundered fell;
Doors, without mortal hand, unbarred themselves.
Yea, fraught with many marvels this man came
To Thebes! To thee the rest doth appertain. 450
Pentheus.
Let loose his hands.[1] Once taken in the toils,
He is not so fleet as to escape from me.
Ha! of thy form thou art not ill-favoured, stranger,
For woman's tempting—even thy quest at Thebes.
No wrestler thou, as show thy flowing locks, 455
Down thy cheeks floating, fraught with all desire;
And white, from heedful tendance, is thy skin,
Smit by no sun-shafts, but made wan by shade,
While thou dost hunt desire with beauty's lure.
First, tell me of what nation sprung thou art. 460
Dionysus.
No high vaunt this—'tis easy to declare:
Of flowery Tmolus haply thou hast heard.
Pentheus.
I know: it compasseth the Sardians' town.
