PENTHEUS.
How comest thou here? How didst thou break thy cage? Speak!
DIONYSUS.
Said I not, or didst thou mark not me, There was One living that should set me free?
PENTHEUS.
Who? Ever wilder are these tales of thine.
DIONYSUS.
He who first made for man the clustered vine.
PENTHEUS.
I scorn him and his vines!
DIONYSUS.
For Dionyse 'Tis well; for in thy scorn his glory lies.
PENTHEUS (to his guard).
Go swift to all the towers, and bar withal Each gate!
DIONYSUS.
What, cannot God o'erleap a wall?
PENTHEUS.
Oh, wit thou hast, save where thou needest it!
DIONYSUS.
Whereso it most imports, there is my wit!-- Nay, peace! Abide till he who hasteth from The mountain side with news for thee, be come. We will not fly, but wait on thy command.
[Enter suddenly and in haste a Messenger from the Mountain.
MESSENGER.
Great Pentheus, Lord of all this Theban land, I come from high Kithaeron, where the frore Snow spangles gleam and cease not evermore. . .
PENTHEUS.
And what of import may thy coming bring?