And comest thou first to Thebes, to have thy God Established?
DIONYSUS.
Nay; all Barbary hath trod His dance ere this.
PENTHEUS.
A low blind folk, I ween, Beside our Hellenes!
DIONYSUS.
Higher and more keen In this thing, though their ways are not thy way.
PENTHEUS.
How is thy worship held, by night or day?
DIONYSUS.
Most oft by night; 'tis a majestic thing, The darkness.
PENTHEUS.
Ha! with women worshipping? 'Tis craft and rottenness!
DIONYSUS.
By day no less, Whoso will seek may find unholiness.
PENTHEUS.
Enough! Thy doom is fixed, for false pretence Corrupting Thebes.
DIONYSUS.
Not mine; but thine, for dense Blindness of heart, and for blaspheming God!
PENTHEUS.
A ready knave it is, and brazen-browed, This mystery-priest!
DIONYSUS.
Come, say what it shall be, My doom; what dire thing wilt thou do to me?
PENTHEUS.
First, shear that delicate curl that dangles there.