BAC.  I would rather sacrifice to him than, being wrath, kick against the pricks; a mortal against a God.

PEN.  I will sacrifice, making a great slaughter of the women, as they deserve, in the glens of Cithaeron.

BAC.  You will all fly, (and that will be shameful,) so as to yield your brazen shields to the thyrsi of the Bacchae.

PEN.  We are troubled with this impracticable stranger, who neither suffering nor doing will be silent.

BAC.  My friend, there is still opportunity to arrange these things well.

PEN.  By doing what? being a slave to my slaves?

BAC.  I will bring the women here without arms.

PEN.  Alas! you are contriving some trick against me.

BAC.  Of what sort, if I wish to save you by my contrivances?

PEN.  You have devised this together, that ye may have your revelings forever.

BAC.  And indeed, know this, I agreed on it with the God.

PEN.  Bring hither the arms! and do you cease to speak.

BAC.  Hah!  Do you wish to see them sitting on the mountains?

PEN.  Very much, if I gave countless weight of gold for it.

BAC.  But why? have you fallen into a great wish for this?

PEN.  I should like to see them drunk grievously [for them].

BAC.  Would you then gladly see what is grievous to you?

PEN.  To be sure, sitting quietly under the pines.

BAC.  But they will track you out, even though you come secretly.

PEN.  But [I will come] openly, for you have said this well.

BAC.  Shall I then guide you? and will you attempt the way?

PEN.  Lead me as quickly as possible; for I do not grudge you the time.

BAC.  Put on then linen garments on your body.

PEN.  What then, shall I be reckoned among women, being a man?

BAC.  Lest they slay you if you be seen there, being a man.

PEN.  You say this well, and you have been long wise.

BAC.  Bacchus taught me this wisdom.

PEN.  How then can these things which you advise me be well done?

BAC.  I will attire you, going into the house.

PEN.  With what dress—­a woman’s? but shame possesses me.

BAC.  Do you no longer wish to be a spectator of the Maenads?

PEN.  But what attire do you bid me put on my body?

BAC.  I will spread out your hair at length on your head.

PEN.  And what is the next point of my equipment?

BAC.  A garment down to your feet; and you shall have a turban on your head.

PEN.  Shall you put any thing else on me besides this?

BAC.  A thyrsus in your hand, and the dappled hide of a deer.

PEN.  I can not wear a woman’s dress.

BAC.  But you will shed blood if you join battle with the Bacchae.

PEN.  True; we must first go and see.

BAC.  That is wiser at least than to hunt evils with evils.