With ivy rattling, no more shake his locks, His head lopt off. This Bacchus he reports To be a god, whom Jove, he says, of old Sew'd in his thigh: but in the lightning's flames He perish'd with his mother, vengeance due For her false tale of Jove's connubial bed. Doth not this call aloud for punishment, This stranger's insolence, whoe'er he be, Affronting us with such rude outrages? And here's another wonder; I behold The seer Tiresias habited alike
With the fawn's dappled skin; and Cadmus too, My mother's father, shake his bacchic wand, Sight ludicrous; nor, sire, can I approve To see your age of reason so devoid.
Wilt thou not shake the ivy from thy head? Wilt thou not throw the thyrsus from thy hand? Thy counsel this, Tiresias; this new god To mortals introducing, wou'dst thou make him Observe the flight of birds, and from the flames Receive the hire: but that thy hoary hairs Protect thee, thou shou'dst sit in chains amidst These madding dames, for such pernicious rites Induced. To females when the joy of wine Flows round the festive table, I pronounce That in such orgies there is nothing good. CHOR. O Piety! Reverest thou not the gods,
Nor Cadmus, who the earth-born harvest sow'd? Son of Echion, why defame thy race!
TIRES. A wise man, when he takes occasions fair
To hold discourse, finds words that promptly flow To grace his argument. Thou hast a tongue As voluble as Wisdom, but thy words Have not her pow'r. A dangerous citizen Is that audacious pealing orator,
Who lacks discretion. This new god, whom thou So in derision callest, shall be great,
How great, I have not words t' express, through Greece.
There are two pow'rs, young man, to mortal life Of chief account; the goddess Ceres one, She is the Earth, call her by either name; With dry and solid aliment by her Is man sustain'd: of different nature comes This son of Semele the grape's moist juice, His own invention he on man bestow'd: This to unhappy mortals from their griefs Gives respite, with the flowing vine when fill'd, Gives sleep, and sweet oblivion of the cares Each day brings with it; a more healing pow'r No medicine boasts. He to the gods, himself Sprung from a god, is in libation pour'd, That mortals might through him enjoy the sweets Of life; yet thy rude tongue insultingly
Derides him, in the thigh of Jove as sew'd.
I will inform thee what this means: When Joye The new-born babe snatch'd from the lightning flames, And bore him to Olympus, Juno sought
To cast him from the skies; t'elude her aims Jove, as a god, this artful plan devised:
Part of the air, which round enrings the earth, He burst, and lodged the child an hostage there From Juno's angry efforts: but in time Men fabled that Jove lodged him in his thigh, Th'ambiguous phrase mistaking. But this god Hath a prophetic pow'r; his mystic rites Breathe much of inspiration; when he flows Abundant on the soul, his frantic train He forms to tell events of times to come.
Nor shrinks he from the toils of Mars; in arms
The close-rang'd squadrons he with wild dismay
311. The sense of the original, such as it is, depends entirely upon the oμooCavía of the words "ungos an hostage, and ó μngòs thigh, which it is not possible to preserve in the translation: but the English reader may be assured, that he loses nothing but the sameness of sound in two words of very different signification.
Confounds and scatters, ere the lifted spear
Flashes with spear: from Bacchus springs this terror. And thou shalt see him bounding o'er the rocks Of Delphi, striking with his blazing torch Its double-pointed cliffs, his bacchic wand
Shaking, and great through Greece. Believe my words, ✓ And be persuaded, Pentheus: pride thee not In thy imperial pow'r, thy rule o'er men, Nor glory in thy wisdom, that vain thought Is but the feverish sickness of the soul] But in thy realms receive the god, and pour The rich libations, join the bacchic train, And crown thy head. No female he perforce Hurries to wanton love; for to his nature In all things decent modesty is dear: Reflect on this: no woman in his rites,
Come she with chaste and sober mind, shall know The soil of violation. Seest thou this?
When at the gates the thronging multitude Stands round thee, and with high applause the name Of Pentheus through the state is sounded wide, It gives thee joy; and he, I ween, is touch'd, When honour'd, with delight. With reverence then Myself and Cadmus, whom thy taunts deride, Will be with ivy crown'd, and join the dance, An hoary pair; yet must we join the dance, Nor war against the god, urged by thy words. For thou art mad, and thy deep malady
No medicines, save these, have pow'r to heal. CHOR. Thy words, old man, disgrace not Phoebus: wise Art thou thus honouring Bacchus, the great god. CADM. Well hath Tiresias counsell'd thee, my son;
Abide with us, no outrage to the laws,
For now thou fliest from us, 'midst thy boast Of wisdom most unwise. Were he no god, As thy bold words aver, let him from thee Receive that title, and the glorious falsehood
Avow, as he was born of Semele; So shall she seem the mother of a god, On us devolving honour, and our race. Seest thou Actæon's miserable fate,
Rent piecemeal by the ravenous dogs his hand Had cherish'd? For his skill he proudly vaunted More than Diana's in the woodland chace. b'Be warn'd, come hither: I with ivy wreaths
Will crown thy brows: with us revere the god. PENT. Thou shalt not touch me, going as thou art To this wild riot, nor on me wipe off
Thy folly but this master of thy madness Shall feel my vengeance. Go, this instant go One of you, batter down, o'erturn the seat Where he observes the flight of birds; rend, crush, And make a general havoc; to the winds, The tempests, toss his crowns: so shall I gall him Most feelingly. Go you, retrace the haunts Of this lascivious, female-figur'd stranger, That 'mongst our women spreads a new disease, And with pollution stains the nuptial bed. If you can take him, bring him hither bound, That he may die, crush'd with o'erwhelming stones, And solemnize unpleasant rites at Thebes.
TIRES. Wretch as thou art, thou know'st not what thou say'st, Thy reason fail'd before, but this is now
Outrageous madness. Cadmus, let us go, And deprecate from him, harsh though he be, And from the state the vengeance of the god. Come thou with me, but take thine ivy wand, Try to be my support, I will be thine; Unseemly would it be for two old men To fall thus let us go; the son of Jove Must be obey'd. O Cadmus, to thy house His rage bodes rage: this with a prophet's skill I speak not, but from circumstance; such meed Hath a fool's tongue, which vents his foolish thought.
Holy, by the gods rever'd,
Holy queen, who joy'st to wave O'er the earth thy golden wing,
Goddess, hear'st thou Pentheus rave With unhallow'd menacing?
Are his taunts 'gainst Bacchus heard? 'Midst Pleasure'strain with beauteous garlands crown'd The Son of Semele delights t' advance,
Delights to lead the festive dance,
Pleas'd with the soft flute's dulcet sound;
First of the gods he charms to rest
The anguish of th' afflicted breast, When amidst the feast divine Sparkling flow the joys of wine, And o'er the ivy-shaded heads
The balmy dews of sleep the goblet sheds. ANTIS. 1. When the rude unbridled tongue
Vents the mad and wayward thought, Vengeance is its destin'd end;
But the soul with wisdom fraught Calms the life, and, Peace its friend, Holds its state securely strong.
For, distant as they are, on mortal man The gods from their ætherial seats look down; And sober wisdom scorns to own
The wily and presumptuous plan. Pride, that extends her aims too high, Soon sees her short-lived glories die; Nor the present blessings tastes, Whilst to great designs she hastes: Such to me man's state appears,
395. Who is the venerable goddess here invoked? Themida primo loco Chorus „ alloquitur, deinde Nemesin, quam deam a Smyrnæis alatam effingi solere tradit Pausanias. Heath. This is ill expressed, as the address is simple, and to Nemesis.
« AnteriorContinuar » |