Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/450

422 Agavê cried, "Ho, stand we round the trunk,

Maenads, and grasp, that we may catch the beast

Crouched there, that he may not proclaim abroad

Our God's mysterious rites!" Their countless hands

Set they unto the pine, tore from the soil:—

And he. high-seated, crashed down from his height:

And earthward fell with frenzy of shriek on shriek

Pentheus, for now he knew his doom at hand.

His mother first, priest-like, began the slaughter,

And fell on him: but from his hair the coif

He tore, that she might know and slay him not,—

Hapless Agavê!—and he touched her cheek,

Crying, Tis I—O mother!—thine own son

Pentheus—thou bar'st me in Echion's halls!

Have mercy, O my mother!—for my sin

Murder not thou thy son—thy very son!"

But she, with foaming lips and eyes that rolled

Wildly, and reckless madness-clouded soul,

Possessed of Bacchus, gave no heed to him;

But his left arm she clutched in both her hands,

And set against the wretch's ribs her foot,

And tore his shoulder out—not by her strength,

But the God made it easy to her hands.

And Ino laboured on the other side,

Rending his flesh: Autonoë pressed on—all

The Bacchanal throng. One awful blended cry

Rose—the king's screams while life was yet in him,

And triumph-yells from them. One bare an arm,

One a foot sandal-shod. His ribs were stripped

In mangled shreds: with blood-bedabbled hands

Each to and fro was tossing Pentheus' flesh.