by Nonnus
ἀλλὰ κακογλώσσων στομάτων κενεόφρονι μύθῳ
υἱέος ὑμετέροιο μόρον ψεύσαντο βοτῆρες,
νυμφίον ἐχθαίροντες ἀνυμφεύτοιο θεαίνης.
οἶδα, πόθεν δόλος οὗτος: ἐπ᾽ ἀλλοτρίοις ὑμεναίοις
295 εἰς γάμον, εἰς Παφίην ζηλήμονές εἰσι γυναῖκες.
ἀλλὰ θυελλήεντι διαθρῴσκουσα πεδίλῳ
σπεῦδε μολεῖν ἀκίχητος ἐς οὔρεα: κεῖθι μολοῦσα
ὄψεαι Ἀκταίωνα συναγρώσσοντα Λυαίῳ,
Ἄρτεμιν ἐγγὺς ἔχοντα, καὶ αἰόλα δίκτυα θήρης
300 ἐνδρομίδας φορέοντα, καὶ ἀμφαφόωντα φαρέτρην.
ὀλβίη, Αὐτονόη, Σεμέλης πλέον, ὅττι θεαίνης
εἰς γάμον ἐρχομένης ἑκυρὴ πέλες ἰοχεαίρης:
Ἰνοῦς καλλιτόκοιο μακαρτέρη, ὅττι θεαίνης
σὸς πάις ἔλλαχε λέκτρα, τὰ μὴ λάχεν Ὦτος ἀγήνωρ.
305 οὐ θρασὺς Ὠρίων πέλε νυμφίος ἰοχεαίρης.
χάρματι δ᾽ ῾̣̣̓βήσας σέθεν υἱέος εἵνεκα νύμφης
κωμάζει σέο Κάδμος ὀρεσσαύλῳ παρὰ παστῷ,
σείων ἠερίοις ἀνέμοις χιονώδεα χαίτην.
ἔγρεο, καὶ σὺ γένοιο γαμοστόλος, εὔλοχε μήτηρ:
310 ἅρμενος οὗτος Ἔρως, ὅτι νυμφίον Ἄρτεμις ἁγνὴ
υἷα κασιγνήτοιο καὶ οὐ ξένον εἶχεν ἀκοίτην.
ἀλλὰ θεὰ φυγόδεμνος ἐπήν ποτε παῖδα λοχεύσῃ,
υἱέα κουφίζουσα σαόφρονος ἰοχεαίρης
πήχεϊ παιδοκόμῳ ζηλήμονι δεῖξον Ἀγαύῃ.
315 τίς νέμεσίς ποτε τοῦτο, κυνοσσόος εἰ παρὰ παστῷ
ἤθελε θηρητῆρα λαγωβόλον υἷα λοχεῦσαι,
εἴκελον Ἀκταίωνι φιλοσκοπέλῳ τε Κυρήνῃ,
μητρῴων ἐλάφων ἐποχημένον ὠκέι δίφρῳ;’
[283] “Autonoe, happier far than Semele — for by your son’s late marriage you can rival Olympos itself! You have seized the honours of the skies, now Artemis has got Actaion for her dainty leman, and Selene Endymion! Actaion never died, he never took the shape of a wild creature, he had no antlered horn of a dappled deer, no bastard shape, no false body, he saw no hounds hunting and killing him. No, these were all herdsmen’s lies, empty-minded fables of malicious tongues about your son’s fate, because they hated the bridegroom of an unwedded goddess. I know where this invention came from: women are jealous about marriage and love in others. Come, leap up with stormy shoe! Make haste, speed into the mountains! There you shall see Actaion beside Lyaios on the hunt, with Artemis not far off, woven nets in his hands and hunting-boots on his feet, fingering his quiver. Happier far than Semele, Autonoe! for a goddess came to you for marriage, a goddess became your gooddaughter, the Archeress herself! More blessed than that mother Ino proud of her son, for your son got the bed of a goddess, which proud Otos never got. Bold Orion was never bridegroom of the Archeress. Your Cadmos is young again with joy for your son’s bride, and holds revel beside their bridal bed in the mountains, with his snowy hair fluttering in the airy breeze. Wake up, and make one in the marriage company, happy mother! This is a proper love, for holy Artemis has a brother’s son for bridegroom, not a stranger husband. And when the goddess who hated marriage brings forth a child, you shall dandle the son of the chaste Archeress in your cherishing arms and make Agaue jealous at the sight! Why should not the huntress be pleased to bear a son in her bridal chamber, a hunter himself and a marksman, like Actaion, or Cyrene who loved the mountains, and let him ride behind his mother’s team of swift deer?”
BOOK 45
πέμπτον τεσσαρακοστὸν ἐπόψεαι, ὁππόθι Πενθεὺς
ταῦρον ἐπισφίγγει κεραελκέος ἀντὶ Λυαίου.
ὣς φαμένου Βρομίοιο δόμων ἐξέδραμε νύμφη
χάρματι λυσσήεντι κατάσχετος, ὄφρα νοήσῃ
νυμφίον Ἀκταίωνα παρήμενον ἰοχεαίρῃ:
καί οἱ ἐπειγομένῃ σφαλερῷ ποδὶ σύνδρομος αὔραις
5 εἰς ὅρος ἀκρήδεμνος ὁμάρτεε μαινὰς Ἀγαύη,
καὶ Κρονίης μάστιγος ἱμασσομένη φρένα κέντρῳ
ἄσκοπον ἐρροίβδησε μεμηνότι χείλεϊ φωνήν:
BOOK XLV
See also the forty-fifth, where Pentheus binds the bull instead of stronghorn Lyaios.
WHEN Bromios had spoken, the nymph rushed from the house possessed by joyous madness, that she might see Actaion as bridegroom seated beside the Archeress; along with her as she hastened swift as the wind sped Agauë to the mountain, with staggering steps, unveiled, frenzied, the sting of the Cronian whip flogging her wits, while she poured out these heedless words from her maddened lips:
‘Οὐτιδανῷ Πενθῆι κορύσσομαι, ὄφρα δαείη,
θαρσαλέην ὅτι Κάδμος Ἀμαζόνα τίκτεν Ἀγαύην.
10 ἔμπλεος ἠνορέης καὶ ἐγὼ πέλον: ἢν ἐθελήσω,
καὶ γυμναῖς παλάμῃσιν ὅλον Πενθῆα δαμάσσω,
καὶ στρατιὴν εὔοπλον ἀτευχέι χειρὶ δαΐζω.
θύρσον ἔχω: μελίης οὐ δεύομαι, οὐ δόρυ πάλλω:
ἔγχεϊ δ᾽ ἀμπελόεντι δορυσσόον ἀνέρα βάλλω:
15 οὐ φορέω θώρηκα, καὶ εὐθώρηκα δαμάσσω.
κύμβαλα δ᾽ αἰθύσσουσα καὶ ἀμφιπλῆγα βοείην
κυδαίνω Διὸς υἷα, καὶ οὐ Πενθῆα γεραίρω.
Λύδιά μοι δότε ῥόπτρα: τί μέλλετε, θυιάδες ὧραι;
ἵξομαι εἰς σκοπέλους, ὅθι Μαινάδες, ἧχι γυναῖκες
20 ἥλικες ἀγρώσσοντι συναγρώσσουσι Λυαίῳ.
ζῆλον ἔχω, Λιόνυσε, λεοντοφόνοιο Κυρήνης:
φείδεό μοι Βρομίοιο, θεημάχε, φείδεο, Πενθεῦ:
εἰς σκοπέλους ἀκίχητος ἐλεύσομαι, ὄφρα καἰ αὐτὴ
εὔιον ἀείδουσα χοροίτυπον ἴχνος ἑλίξω:
25 οὐκέτι βοτρυόεντος ἀναίνομαι ὄργια Βάκχου,
οὐκέτι Βασσαρίδων στυγέω χορόν: ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὴ
δειμαίνω Διόνυσον, ὃν ἤροσεν ἄφθιτος εὐνή,
ὃν Διὸς ὑψιμέδοντος ἐχυτλώσαντο κεραυνοί.
ἔσσομαι ὠκυπέδιλος, ὁμήλυδος ἰοχεαίρης
30 δίκτυα κουφίζουσα, καὶ οὐ κλωστῆρας Ἀθήνης.’
[8] “I rebel against that ridiculous Pentheus, to teach him what a bold Amazon is Agauë the daughter of Cadmos! I too am chockfull of valour. If I like, I will tame all Pentheus even with my bare hands, and I will destroy his well-armed host with no weapon in my hand! I have a thyrsus; ashplant I want not, no spear I shake —
with viny lance I strike the spearshaking man! I wear no corselet, but I will tame the man who wears the best. Shaking my cymbals and my tambour which I beat on both sides I magnify the son of Zeus, I honour not Pentheus. Give me the Lydian drums — why do ye delay, ye hours of festival? I will come to the hills, where Mainads, where women of like years, join the hunt of hunting Lyaios. O Dionysos, I am jealous of Cyrene lionslayer! Spare me Bromios, O thou rebel against heaven — spare him, O Pentheus! I will come at speed into the hills, that I too may sing Euios and twirl a dancing foot. No longer I refuse the rites of grapegod Bacchos, no longer I hate the Bassarids’ dance; but I too stand in awe of Dionysos, offspring of the bed incorruptible, bathed by thunderbolts from Zeus on high. Swift will my shoes go, as I carry nets beside the Archeress, no longer the skeins of Athena.”
ὣς φαμένη πεπότητο νέη σκαίρουσα Μιμαλλών,
ληναίης μεθέπουσα φιλεύιον ἅλμα χορείης,
Βάκχον ἀνευάζουσα καἰ ἀείδουσα Θυώνην:
καὶ Σεμέλην ὑπάτοιο Διὸς κίκλησκε γυναῖκα,
35 καὶ σέλας εὐφαέων γαμίων ἐλίγαινε κεραυνῶν.
[31] So crying she flew away, a new skipping Mimallon, practising the Euian leap of the winepress, calling Euoi to Bacchos and lauding Thyone — aye, and she called to Semele, wife of Zeus the highest, and loudly sang the brightness of those bridal lightnings.
καὶ χορὸς ὲν σκοπέλοισιν ἔην πολύς: ἀμφὶ δὲ πέτραι
ἴαχον: ἑπταπύλου δὲ πέδον περιδέδρομε Θήβης
ἠχὴ ποικιλόμορφος: ὁμογλώσσῳ δ᾽ ἀλαλητῷ
μελπομένων βαρύδουπος ἐπεσμαράγησε Κιθαιρών:
40 καὶ δροσόεις κελάδησεν ἁλὸς κτύπος: ἦν δὲ νοῆσαι
δένδρεα κωμάζοντα καὶ αὐδήεσσαν ἐρίπνην.
καί τις ἑοῦ θαλάμοιο χοροίτυπος ἔκθορε κούρη,
αὐλὸς ὅτε τρητοῖσι πόροις ἰάχησε κεράστης:
καὶ κτύπος ἀμφιβόητος ἀδεψήτοιο βοείης
45 παρθενικὰς βάκχευσεν, ἀπ᾽ εὐτύκτων δὲ μελάθρων
εἰς ὄρος ὑψικάρηνον ἐρημάδας ἤλασε Βάκχας.
καί τις ἀνοιστρηθεῖσα θυελλήεντι πεδίλῳ
κούρη λυσιέθειρα διέσσυτο παρθενεῶνος,
κερκίδα καλλείψασα καὶ ἱστοτέλειαν Ἀθήνην:
50 καὶ πλοκάμων ἀκόμιστον ἀπορρίψασα καλύπτρην
μίσγετο Βασσαρίδεσσι καὶ Ἀονὶς ἔπλετο Βάκχη.
[36] Then there was great dancing on the hills. The rocks resounded all about, a thousand new noises rolled round the land of sevengate Thebes; the one concordant chorus of the singers filled Cithairon with heavy-echoing din; the dewy salt sea roared; one could see trees making merry, and hear voices from the rocks. Many a maiden ran out of her room to foot it in the dance, when the pipe of horn tootled through its drilled holes, and the double blows on the raw hide made the girls go mad, and drove them from their well-built halls to be Bacchants in the wilderness of the lofty mountains. Many a maiden driven crazy shook her hair loose and rushed with stormy shoe from her chamber, leaving loomcomb and Athena with her craft, cast away the veil unheeded from her hair, mingled with Bassarids — and lo! Aionian turned Bacchant!
Τειρεσίας δ᾽ ἱέρευσεν ἀλεξικάκῳ Διονύσῳ
βωμὸν ἀναστήσας, ἵνα Πενθέος ὕβριν ἐρύξῃ
καὶ χόλον ἀπρήυντον ἀποσκεδάσειε Λυαίου:
55 ἀλλὰ μάτην ἱκέτευσεν, ἐπεὶ λίνον ἤλυθε Μοίρης.
καὶ Σεμέλης γενέτην ἐκαλέσσατο μάντις ἐχέφρων,
ὄφρα μετασχήσωσι χοροστασίην Διονύσου.
βριθομένοις δὲ πόδεσσι γέρων ὠρχήσατο Κάδμος
στέψας Ἀονίῳ χιονώδεα βόστρυχα κισσῷ:
60 Τειρεσίας δ᾽ ὁμόφοιτος ἑὸν πόδα νωθρὸν ἑλίσσων,
Μυγδονίῳ Φρύγα κῶμον ἀνακρούων Διονύσῳ,
εἰς χορὸν ἀίσσοντι συνέμπορος ἤιε Κάδμῳ
γηραλέον νάρθηκι θεουδέι πῆχυν ἐρείσας.
ἀθρήσας δὲ γέροντας ὁμήλυδας ὄμματι λοξῷ
65 Τειρεσίαν καὶ Κάδμον ἀτάσθαλος ἴαχε Πενθεύς:
[52] Teiresias built an altar to Protecting Dionysos and sacrificed there, that he might prevent the defiance of Pentheus and avert the wrath of Lyaios yet unappeased; but his prayers were in vain, since the thread of Fate was there. The wise seer called Semele’s father also, that they might share the dance of Dionysos. With heavy feet ancient Cadmos danced, crowning his snowy hair with Aonian ivy, and Teiresias his old comrade wheeled a sluggish foot, beating a Phrygian revelstep for Mygdonian Dionysos; so he joined the eager efforts of Cadmos hastening to the dance, and supported his old arm on a pious fennel stalk. Pentheus the hothead saw old Teiresias and Cadmos there together, and looking askance at them cried out —
‘Κάδμε, τί μαργαίνεις; τίνι δαίμονι κῶμον ἐγείρεις;
Κάδμε, μιαινομένης ἀποκάτθεο κισσὸν ἐθείρης,
κάτθεο καὶ νάρθηκα νοοπλανέος Διονύσου:
Ὀγκαίης δ᾽ ἀνάειρε σαόφρονα χαλκὸν Ἀθήνης.
70 νήπιε Τειρεσία, στεφανηφόρε, ῥῖψον ἀήταις
σῶν πλοκάμων τάδε φύλλα, νόθον στέφος: ἀντὶ δὲ θύρσου
Φοίβου μᾶλλον ἄειρε τεὴν Ἰσμηνίδα δάφνην.
αἰδέομαι σέο γῆρας, ἀμετροβίων δὲ καὶ αὐτῶν
μάρτυρα δῶν ἐτέων πολιὴν πλοκαμῖδα γεραίρω:
75 εἰ μὴ γὰρ τόδε γῆρας ἐρήτυε καὶ σέο χαίτη,
καί κεν ἀλυκτοπέδῃσιν ἐγὼ δέο χεῖρας ἑλίξας
δέσμιον ἀχλυόεντι κατεσφρήγισσα μελάθρῳ.
[66] “Why this madness, Cadmos? What god do you honour with this revel? Tear the ivy from your hair, Cadmos, it defiles it! And drop that fennel of Dionysos, the deluder of men’s wits! Take up the bronze of Athena Oncaia, which makes men sane. Foolish Teiresias to wear that garland! Throw these leaves to the winds, that false chaplet on your hair. Take up rather the Ismenian laurel of your own Phoibos, instead of a thyrsus. I respect your old age, I honour the hoary locks that witness to the years of your life, as old as theirs. But if this old age and this your hair did not save you, I had twisted galling bonds about your hands and sealed you up in a gloomy cell.
σὸς νόος οὔ με λέληθε: σὺ γὰρ Πενθῆι μεγαίρων
μαντοσύναις δολίῃσι νόθον θεὸν ἀνέρα τεύχεις,
80 δῶρα λαβὼν Λυδοῖο παρ᾽ ἀνέρος ἠπεροπῆος,
δῶρα πολυχρύσοιο φατιζομένου ποταμοῖο.
ἀλλ᾽ ἐρέεις, ὅτι Βάκχος ἐποίνιον εὗρεν ὀπώρην:
οἶνος ἀεὶ μεθύοντας ἐφέλκεται εἰς Ἀφροδίτην,
εἰς φόν
ον ἀσταθέος νόον ἀνέρος οἶνος ἐγείρει.
85 ἀλλὰ Διὸς γενετῆρος ἔχει δέμας ἠὲ χιτῶνας:
χρύσεα πέπλα φέρων, οὐ νεβρίδας, ὑψιμέδων Ζεὺς
ἀστράπτει μακάρεσσι: καὶ ἀνδράσι μάρναται Ἄρης
χάλκεον ἔγχος ἔχων, οὐκ οἴνοπα θύρσον ἀείρων:
οὐ βοέοις κεράεσσι κερασφόρος ἐστὶν Ἀπόλλων.
90 μὴ ποταμὸς Σεμέλην νυμφεύσατο, καὶ τέκε νύμφη
υἷα νόθον κερόεντα βοοκραίρῳ παρακοίτῃ;
ἀλλ᾽ ἐρέεις: ‘γλαυκῶπις ἐς ἄρσενα δῆριν ἱκάνει
σύγγονον ἔγχος ἔχουσα καὶ ἀσπίδα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη’ ...
αἰγίδα καὶ σὺ τίταινε τεοῦ Κρονίδαο τοκῆος.’
[78] “I understand what is in your mind. You have a grudge against Pentheus, and you make a man into a bastard god by lying oracles — that Lydian impostor has bribed you by promising plenty of gold from the famous golden river. But you will say, Bacchos has invented the wine-fruit. — Yes, and what wine always does is to drag drunken men into lust; what vine does is to excite an unstable man’s mind to murder. But he wears the shape and garments of Zeus his father! — Golden robes are what Lord Zeus wears, not fawnskins, when he thunders in the heights among the Blessed; when Ares fights with men, he carries a spear of bronze, not a thyrsus of vineleaves in his hand; Apollo is not horned with bull’s horns. Was it a River that wedded Semele? did the bride bear a horned bastard to her bullhorned husband? But you will say, Brighteyes Pallas Athena marches to battle with men, holding the spear and shield that were born with her.... Then you should hold the aegis of your father Cronides.”
95 ὣς φαμένου Πενθῆος ἀμείβετο μάντις ἐχέφρων:
[95] When Pentheus ended, the vise seer replied: