Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/454

426

Yea, the hair of a beast of the wold might it be.

Uproused was the Maenad gathering

To the chase, by a cunning hunter full cunningly.

Yea, a hunter is Bacchus our King.

Dost thou praise me?

How can I choose but praise?

Ay, and full soon shall Kadmus' race—

And Pentheus thy son—

Yea, I shall have praise of my scion

For the prey that is taken, even this whelp of a lion.

Strange quarry!—

And strangely taken.