Nonnus of Panopolis, Dionysiaca 46.210–264: Book 46: Agaue kills Pentheus and shows his head to Cadmos

Such was his prayer, and Agaue heard him not ; but the terrible women attacked him with one accord ; as he rolled in the dust, one pulled on his legs, one seized his right arm and wrenched it out at the joint, Autonoe dragged opposite at the left ; his deluded mother set her foot on his chest, and cut through that daring neck as he lay with sharp thyrsus — then ran nimbleknee with frenzied joy in his murder, and displayed the bloody head to unwelcoming Cadmos. Triumphant in the capture of a lion, as she thought, she cried out these words of madness :

“Blessed Cadmos, more blessed now I call you ! For in the mountains Artemis has seen Agaue triumphant with no weapon in her hands ; and even if she is queen of the hunt, she must hide her jealousy of your lionslaying daughter. The Dryads also wondered at my work. And the father of our Harmonia, armed with his familiar lance, brazen Ares, wondered full of pride at your child without a spear, casting a thyrsus and destroying lions. Pray call the king on your throne, Cadmos, call Pentheus here, that with envious eyes he may see the beastslaying sweat of a weak woman !

“This way, my men, hang up this head as a votive offering of my victory on the gatehouse of Cadmos. Sister Ino never killed a beast like this ! Look here Autonoe, and bow your neck to Agaue ! For you have never won glory like mine — the still famous victory of lionslaying Cyrene, mother of your Aristaios and your own goodmother, has been put to shame by mine !

While she spoke, she lifted her dear burden ; but Cadmos hearing the distracted boasts of his exulting daughter, answered in mourning voice and mingled his tears with his words :

Ah, what a beast you have brought down, Agaue my child, one with human reason ! What a beast you have brought down, one which your own womb brought forth ! What a beast you have brought down, one that Echion begat ! Look upon your lion, one that Cadmos lifted upon his nursing arm when he was still a little tot, held in his joyful arms. Look upon your lion, one that your mother Harmonia often caught up and held to your suckling breast. You search for your son to see your work : how can I call Pentheus, when you hold him in your hands ? How can I call your son, whom you have killed in ignorance ? Look at your beast, and you will recognize your son.

“O Dionysos ! A fine return you bring to Cadmos who reared you ! Fine bridal gifts Cronion gave me with Harmonia ! They are worthy of Ares and heavenly Aphrodite. Ino is in the sea, Semele was burnt by Cronion, Autonoe mourns her horned son, and Agaue — what misery for Agaue ! She has killed her only son, her own son untimely ; and my Polydoros wanders in sorrow, a banished man. Alone I am left, in a living death. Who will be my refuge, now Pentheus is dead and Polydoros gone ? What foreign city will receive me ? Curse you, Cithairon ! You have slain those two who should cherish Cadmos in old age : Pentheus is with you, dead, Actaion is buried in your soil.”