DIONYSUS Air, Zeus’s chamber, or the Foot of Time? (A flute is played behind the scenes.)
DIONYSUS Hist!
XANTHIAS What’s the matter?
DIONYSUS Didn’t you hear it?
XANTHIAS What?
DIONYSUS The breath of flutes.
XANTHIAS Aye, and a whiff of torches Breathed o’er me too; a very mystic whiff.
DIONYSUS Then crouch we down, and mark what’s going on.
CHORUS (In the distance.) O Iacchus! O Iacchus! O Iacchus!
XANTHIAS I have it, master: ’tis those blessed Mystics, Of whom he told us, sporting hereabouts. They sing the Iacchus which Diagoras made.
DIONYSUS I think so too: we had better both keep quiet And so find out exactly what it is. (The calling forth of Iacchus.)
CHORUS O Iacchus! power excelling, here in stately temples dwelling, O Iacchus! O Iacchus!
CHORUS Come to tread this verdant level, Come to dance in mystic revel, Come whilst round thy forehead hurtles Many a wreath of fruitful myrtles, Come with wild and saucy paces Mingling in our joyous dance, Pure and holy, which embraces all the charms of all the Graces, When the mystic choirs advance.
XANTHIAS Holy and sacred queen, Demeter’s daughter, O, what a jolly whiff of pork breathed o’er me!
DIONYSUS Hist! and perchance you’ll get some tripe yourself. (The welcome to Iacchus.)
CHORUS Come, arise, from sleep awaking, come the fiery torches shaking, O Iacchus! O Iacchus! Morning Star that shinest nightly. Lo, the mead is blazing brightly, Age forgets its years and sadness, Agéd knees curvet for gladness, Lift thy flashing torches o’er us, Marshal all thy blameless train, Lead, O lead the way before us; lead the lovely youthful Chorus To the marshy flowery plain.
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