Agave You who dwell in this fair-towered city of the Theban land, come to see this prey which we the daughters of Kadmos hunted down, not with thonged Thessalian javelins, or with nets, but with the fingers of our white arms. And then should huntsmen boast and use in vain the work of spear-makers? But we caught and tore apart the limbs of this beast with our very own hands. Where is my old father? Let him approach. And where is my son Pentheus? Let him take a ladder and raise its steps against the house so that he can fasten to the triglyphs this lion’s head which I have captured and brought here.
Kadmos Follow me, carrying the miserable burden of Pentheus, follow me, slaves, before the house; exhausted from countless searches, I am bringing his body, for I discovered it in the folds of Kithairon, torn apart; I picked up nothing in the same place, and it was lying in the woods where discovery was difficult. For some one told me of my daughters’ bold deeds, when I had already come within the walls of the city on my return from the Bacchae with old Teiresias. I turned back to the mountain and now bring here my child who was killed by the Maenads. For I saw Autonoe, who once bore Actaeon to Aristaeus, and Ino with her, still mad in the thicket, wretched creatures. But some one told me that Agave was coming here with Bacchic foot, and this was correct, for I see her—no happy sight!
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