CHORUS
(The warning-off of the profane.) All evil thoughts and profane be still: far hence, far hence from our choirs depart, Who knows not well what the Mystics tell, or is not holy and pure of heart; Who ne’er has the noble revelry learned, or danced the dance of the Muses high; Or shared in the Bacchic rites which old bull-eating Cratinus’s words supply; Who vulgar coarse buffoonery loves, though all untimely the jests they make; Or lives not easy and kind with all, or kindling faction forbears to slake, But fans the fire, from a base desire some pitiful gain for himself to reap; Or takes, in office, his gifts and bribes, while the city is tossed on the stormy deep; Who fort or fleet to the foe betrays; or, a vile Thorycion, ships away Forbidden stores from Aegina’s shores, to Epidaurus across the Bay
CHORUS
Transmitting oarpads and sails and tar, that curst collector of five per cents.; The knave who tries to procure supplies for the use of the enemy’s armaments; he Cyclian singer who dares befoul the Lady Hecate’s wayside shrine; he public speaker who once lampooned in our Bacchic feasts would, with heart malign, keep nibbling away the Comedians’ pay;—to these I utter my warning cry, charge them once, I charge them twice, I charge them thrice, that they draw not nigh O the sacred dance of the Mystic choir. But ye, my comrades, awake the song, The night-long revels of joy and mirth which ever of right to our feast belong. (The start of the procession.) Advance, true hearts, advance! On to the gladsome bowers,
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