Bakkhai by Anne Carson & Euripides

Author:Anne Carson & Euripides [Carson, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780811227117
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2017-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

3rd CHORAL ODE

Bakkhai:

When shall I

set my white foot

in the allnight dances,

when shall I

lift my throat

to the dewy air,

like a fawn

skylarking

in the

green joy of the meadow —

she runs

free

from the hunt and the hunter,

she leaps

over the net

as he cries up his dogs,

with storms

in her feet

she

sprints

the plain,

races

the river

flies

down

to the shadows that deepen the trees,

overjoyed!

at the sheer absence of men.

What is wisdom?

What feels better

than to hold your hand over the head of your enemy?

Who

does

not

love

this

feeling?

It moves

so slowly

– the force of the gods —

yet it is absolutely guaranteed

to arrive.

To punish

human folly

and the arrogance

of a private theology.

Ingenious

how a god can hide

and then

leap out

on the unholy man.

To think or act outside the law is never right.

But this is valid —

this thing we call the daimonic

ancient,

elemental,

fixed in law and custom,

grown out of nature itself.

What is wisdom?

What feels better

than to bring your hand down on the head of your enemy?

Who

does

not

love

this

feeling?

Happy is he who escapes the winter sea,

finds a harbour,

prevails over pain.

Still, one man will always outdo another in wealth or power.

And hopes

are countless, they come on like waves,

rising

and

falling.

Just be happy,

day to day:

this I call blessed.

[enter Dionysos]

Dionysos:

You! Pentheus! I’m talking to you!

Still so keen on seeing sights you should not see?

Still hungry for mischief?

Come out and show me your Bakkhic get-up,

your maenad-suit,

your costume for spying on women.

[enter Pentheus]

You look like one of Kadmos’ daughters!

Pentheus:

You know, I seem to see two suns.

And a double Thebes, each with all its seven gates.

And you look like a bull leading me in procession —

you’ve got horns growing out your head!

Were you perhaps an animal all the time?

You’re certainly a bull at the moment.

Dionysos:

The god is with us now.

He’s come round, he’s on our side.

You’re seeing as you ought to see.

Pentheus:

How do I look?

Is this the way Ino stands?

Or Agave my mother?

Dionysos:

I feel I’m seeing them in person.

But here, this bit of hair is out of place —

I had it tucked under, did I not?

Pentheus:

I was tossing my head back and forth like a maenad inside the house.

Dionysos:

I’ll redo it — I’m here to serve you. Hold still.

Pentheus:

Oh lovely. You redo it. I’m in your hands.

Dionysos:

And your belt is loose, your pleats uneven,

the hem’s slipping down around your ankles.

Pentheus:

Is it? Possibly, on the right anyway.

Over here it hangs straight, so far as I can see.

Dionysos:

You’ll think me your best friend I’m sure,

when you see how sober and sensible the Bakkhai are,

not what you expect.

Pentheus:

Do I take the thyrsos in my right hand

or like this,

to look really Bakkhic?

Dionysos:

Right hand.

Raise it in time with your right foot.

I’m so glad you had a change of heart!

Pentheus:

I’ll be able to lift Mt Kithairon on my bare shoulders,

Bakkhic women and all, am I right?

Dionysos:

No problem. Your whole attitude before was unsound

but not anymore!

Pentheus:

Should we take crowbars?

Or shall I just put my shoulder under the mountain and shove?

Dionysos:

Be careful though, you musn’t do damage to the temples of the Nymphs

or the places where Pan plays his pipes.

Pentheus:

Good point. Brute force is out. Doesn’t work with women anyhow.

I’ll hide in the pines.

Dionysos:

You’ll hide in the hiding place a man should have

who comes to spy on the Bakkhai.

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