LEADER.
Feast!--O miserable!
AGAVE.
See, it falls to his breast, Curling and gently tressed, The hair of the Wild Bull's crest-- The young steer of the fell!
LEADER.
Most like a beast of the wild That head, those locks defiled.
AGAVE (lifting up the head, more excitedly).
He wakened his Mad Ones, A Chase-God, a wise God! He sprang them to seize this! He preys where his band preys.
LEADER (brooding, with horror).
In the trail of thy Mad Ones Thou tearest thy prize, God!
AGAVE.
Dost praise it?
LEADER.
I praise this?
AGAVE.
Ah, soon shall the land praise!
LEADER.
And Pentheus, O Mother, Thy child?
AGAVE.
He shall cry on My name as none other, Bless the spoils of the Lion!
LEADER.
Aye, strange is thy treasure!
AGAVE.
And strange was the taking!
LEADER.