BAC. I will attire you, going into the house.
PEN. With what dress--a woman's? but shame possesses me.

BAC. Do you no longer wish to be a spectator of the Mænads?

PEN. But what attire do you bid me put on my body?

BAC. I will spread out your hair at length on your head.

PEN. And what is the next point of my equipment?

BAC. A garment down to your feet; and you shall have a turban on your head.

PEN. Shall you put any thing else on me besides this?

BAC. A thyrsus in your hand, and the dappled hide of a deer.

PEN. I can not wear a woman's dress.

BAC. But you will shed blood if you join battle with the Bacchæ.

PEN. True; we must first go and see.

BAC. That is wiser at least than to hunt evils with evils.

PEN. And how shall I go through the city escaping the notice of the
Cadmeans?

BAC. We will go by deserted roads, and I will guide you.

PEN. Every thing is better than for the Bacchæ to mock me.

BAC. We will go into the house and consider what seems best.

PEN. We can do what we like; my part is completely prepared. Let us go; for
either I will go bearing arms, or I will be guided by your counsels.

BAC. O women! the man is in the toils,[44] and he will come to the Bacchæ,
where, dying, he will pay the penalty. Now, Bacchus, 'tis thine office, for
you are not far off. Let us punish him; but first drive him out of his
wits, inspiring vain frenzy, since, being in his right mind, he will not be
willing to put on a female dress, but driving him out of his senses he will
put it on; and I wish him to furnish laughter to the Thebans, being led in
woman's guise through the city, after[45] his former threats, with which he
was terrible. But I will go to fit on Pentheus the dress, which, having
taken, he shall die, slain by his mother's hand. And he shall know Bacchus,
the son of Jupiter, who is in fact to men at once the most terrible, and
the mildest of deities.[46]

CHOR. Shall I move my white foot in the night-long dance, honoring Bacchus,
exposing my neck to the dewy air, sporting like a fawn in the verdant
delights of the mead, when it has escaped a fearful chase beyond the watch
of the well-woven nets, (and the huntsman cheering hastens on the course of
his hounds,) and with toil like the swift storm[47] rushes along the plain
that skirts the river, exulting in the solitude apart from men, and in the
thickets of the shady-foliaged wood? What is wisdom, what is a more
glorious gift from the Gods among mortals than to hold one's hand on the
heads of one's enemies? What is good is always pleasant; divine strength is
roused with difficulty, but still is sure, and it chastises those mortals
who honor folly, and do not extol the Gods in their insane mind. But the
Gods cunningly conceal the long foot[48] of time, and hunt the impious man;
for it is not right to determine or plan any thing beyond the laws: for it
is a light expense to deem that that has power whatever is divine, and that
what has been law for a long time has its origin in nature. What is wisdom,
what is a more noble gift from the Gods among men, than to hold one's hand
on the heads of one's enemies? what is honorable is always pleasant. Happy
is he who has escaped from the wave of the sea, and arrived in harbor.[49]
Happy, too, is he who has overcome his labors; and one surpasses another in
different ways, in wealth and power. Still are there innumerable hopes to
innumerable men, some result in wealth to mortals, and some fail, but I
call him happy whose life is happy day by day.

BAC. You, who are eager to see what you ought not, and hasty to do a deed
not of haste, I mean Pentheus, come forth before the house, be seen by me,
having the costume of a woman, of a frantic Bacchant, as a spy upon your
mother and her company! In appearance, you are like one of the daughters of
Cadmus.

PEN. And indeed I think I see two suns,[50] and twin Thebes, and
seven-gated city; and you seem to guide me, being like a bull, and horns
seem to grow on your head. But were you ever a beast? for you look like a
bull.

BAC. The God accompanies us, not propitious formerly, but now at truce with
us. You see what you should see.

PEN. How do I look? Does not my standing seem like that of Ino, or of
Agave, my mother?

BAC. I seem to see them as I behold you; but this lock of hair of yours is
out of its place, not as I dressed it beneath the turban.

PEN. Moving it within doors backward and forward, and practicing Bacchic
revelry, I disarranged it.

BAC. But we who ought to wait upon you will again rearrange it. But hold up
your head.

PEN. Look, do you arrange it, for we depend on you.

BAC. And your girdle is loosened, and the fringes of your garments do not
extend regularly round your legs.

PEN. They seem so to me, too, about the right foot at least; but on this
side the robe sits well along the leg.

BAC. Will you not think me the first of your friends when, contrary to your
expectation, you see the Bacchæ acting modestly?

PEN. But shall I be more like a Bacchant holding the thyrsus in my right
hand, or in this?

BAC. You should [hold it in] your right hand, and raise it at the same time
with your right foot; and I praise you for having changed your mind.

PEN. Could I bear on my shoulders the glens of Cithæron, Bacchæ and all?

BAC. You could if you were willing; but you had your mind unsound before;
but now you have such as you ought.

PEN. Shall we bring levers, or shall I tear them up with my hands, putting
my shoulder or arm under the summits?

BAC. No, lest you ruin the habitations of the Nymphs, and the seats of Pan
where he plays his pipes.

PEN. You speak well,--it is not with strength we should conquer women; but
I will hide my body among the pines.

BAC. Hide you the hiding in which you should be hidden, coming as a crafty
spy on the Mænads.

PEN. And, indeed, I think to catch them in the thickets, like birds in the
sweet nets of beds.

BAC. You go then as a watch for this very thing; and perhaps you will catch
them, if you be not caught first.

PEN. Conduct me through the middle of the Theban land, for I am the only
man of them who would dare these things.

BAC. You alone labor for this city, you alone; therefore the labors, which
are meet,[51] await you. But follow me, I am your saving guide, some one
else will guide you away from thence.

PEN. Yes, my mother.

BAC. Being remarkable among all.

PEN. For this purpose do I come.

BAC. You will depart being borne.[52]

PEN. You allude to my delicacy.

BAC. In the hands of your mother.

PEN. And wilt thou compel me to be effeminate?

BAC. Ay, with such effeminacy.

PEN. I lay mine hands to worthy things.

BAC. You are terrible, terrible: and you go to terrible sufferings; so that
you shall find a renown reaching to heaven. Spread out, O Agave, your
hands, and ye, her sister, daughters of Cadmus! I lead this young man to a
mighty contest; and the conqueror shall be I and Bacchus! The rest the
matter itself will show.

CHOR. Go, ye fleet hounds of madness, go to the mountain where the
daughters of Cadmus hold their company; drive them raving against the
frantic spy on the Mænads,--him in woman's attire. First shall his mother
from some smooth rock or paling, behold him in ambush; and she will cry out
to the Mænads: Who is this of the Cadmeans who has come to the mountain,
the mountain, as a spy on us, who are on the mountain? Io Bacchæ! Who
brought him forth? for he was not born of the blood of women: but, as to
his race, he is either born of some lion, or of the Libyan Gorgons. Let
manifest justice go forth, let it go with sword in hand, slaying the
godless, lawless, unjust, earth-born offspring of Echion through the
throat; who, with wicked mind and unjust rage about your orgies, O Bacchus,
and those of thy mother,[53] with raving heart and mad disposition proceeds
as about to overcome an invincible deity by force. To possess without
pretext a wise understanding in respect to the Gods, and [a disposition]
befitting mortals, is a life ever free from grief. I joyfully hunt after
wisdom, if apart from envy, but the other conduct is evidently ever great
throughout life, directing one rightly the livelong day, to reverence
things honorable.[54] Appear as a bull, or a many-headed dragon, or a fiery
lion, to be seen. Go, O Bacchus! cast a snare around the hunter of the
Bacchæ, with a smiling face falling upon the deadly crowd of the Mænads.

MESS. O house, which wast formerly prosperous in Greece! house of the
Sidonian old man, who sowed in the land the earth-born harvest of the
dragon; how I lament for you, though a slave. But still the [calamities] of
their masters are a grief to good servants.

CHOR. But what is the matter? Tellest thou any news from the Bacchæ?

MESS. Pentheus is dead, the son of his father Echion.

CHOR. O, king Bacchus! truly you appear a great God!

MESS. How sayest thou? Why do you say this? Do you, O woman, delight at my
master being unfortunate?

CHOR. I, a foreigner, celebrate it in foreign strains; for no longer do I
crouch in fear under my fetters.

MESS. But do you think Thebes thus void of men?

CHOR. Bacchus, Bacchus, not Thebes, has my allegiance.

MESS. You, indeed may be pardoned; still, O woman, it is not right to
rejoice at the misfortunes which have been brought to pass.

CHOR. Tell me, say, by what fate is the wicked man doing wicked things
dead, O man?

MESS. When having left Therapnæ of this Theban land, we crossed the streams
of Asopus, we entered on the height of Cithæron, Pentheus and I, for I was
following my master, and the stranger who was our guide in this search, for
the sight: first, then, we sat down in a grassy vale, keeping our steps and
tongues in silence, that we might see, not being seen; and there was a
valley surrounded by precipices, irrigated with streams, shaded around with
pines, where the Mænads were sitting employing their hands in pleasant
labors, for some of them were again crowning the worn-out thyrsus, so as to
make it leafy with ivy; and some, like horses quitting the painted yoke,
shouted in reply to another a Bacchic melody. And the miserable Pentheus,
not seeing the crowd of women, spake thus: O stranger, where we are
standing, I can not come at the place where is the dance of the Mænads; but
climbing a mound, or pine with lofty neck, I could well discern the
shameful deeds of the Mænads. And on this I now see a strange deed of the
stranger; for seizing hold of the extreme lofty branch of a pine, he pulled
it down, pulled it, pulled it to the dark earth, and it was bent like a
bow, or as a curved wheel worked by a lathe describes a circle as it
revolves, thus the stranger, pulling a mountain bough with his hands, bent
it to the earth; doing no mortal's deed; and having placed Pentheus on the
pine branches, he let it go upright through his hands steadily, taking care
that it should not shake him off; and the pine stood firm upright to the
sky, bearing on its back my master, sitting on it; and he was seen rather
than saw the Mænads, for sitting on high he was apparent, as not
before.[55] And one could no longer see the stranger, but there was a
certain voice from the sky; Bacchus, as one might conjecture, shouted out:
O youthful women, I bring you him who made you and me and my orgies a
laughing-stock: but punish ye him. And at the same time he cried out, and
sent forth to heaven and earth a light of holy fire;[56] and the air was
silent, and the fair meadowed grove kept its leaves in silence, and you
could not hear the voice of the beasts; but they not distinctly receiving
the voice, stood upright, and cast their eyes around. And again he
proclaimed his bidding. And when the daughters of Cadmus' recognized the
distinct command of Bacchus, they rushed forth, having in the eager running
of their feet a speed not less than that of a dove; his mother, Agave, and
her kindred sisters, and all the Bacchæ: and frantic with the inspiration
of the God, they bounded through the torrent-streaming valley, and the
clefts. But when they saw my master sitting on the pine, first they threw
at him handfuls of stones, striking his head, mounting on an opposite piled
rock; and with pine branches some aimed, and some hurled their thyrsi
through the air at Pentheus, wretched mark;[57] but they failed of their
purpose; for he having a height too great for their eagerness, sat,
wretched, destitute through perplexity. But at last thundering together[58]
some oaken branches, they tore up the roots with levers not of iron; and
when they could not accomplish the end of their labors, Agave said, Come,
standing round in a circle, seize each a branch, O Mænads, that we may take
the beast[59] who has climbed aloft, that he may not tell abroad the secret
dances of the God. And they applied their innumerable hands to the pine,
and tore it up from the ground; and sitting on high, Pentheus falls to the
ground from on high, with numberless lamentations; for he knew that he was
near to ill. And first his mother, as the priestess, began his slaughter,
and falls upon him; but he threw the turban from his hair, that the
wretched Agave, recognizing him, might not slay him; and touching her
cheek, he says, I, indeed, O mother, am thy child,[60] Pentheus, whom you
bore in the house of Echion; but pity me, O mother! and do not slay me, thy
child, for my sins. But she, foaming and rolling her eyes every way, not
thinking as she ought to think, was possessed by Bacchus, and he did not
persuade her; and seizing his left hand with her hand, treading on the side
of the unhappy man, she tore off his shoulder, not by [her own] strength,
but the God gave facility to her hands; and Ino completed the work on the
other side, tearing his flesh. And Autonoe and the whole crowd of the
Bacchæ pressed on; and there was a noise of all together; he, indeed,
groaning as much as he had life in him, and they shouted; and one bore his
arm, another his foot, shoe and all; and his sides were bared by their
tearings, and the whole band, with gory hands, tore to pieces the flesh of
Pentheus: and his body lies in different places, part under the rugged
rocks, part in the deep shade of the wood, not easy to be sought; and as to
his miserable head, which his mother has taken in her hands, having fixed
it on the top of a thyrsus, she is bearing it, like that of a savage lion,
through the middle of Cithæron, leaving her sisters in the dances of the
Mænads; and she goes along rejoicing in her unhappy prey, within these
walls, calling upon Bacchus, her fellow-huntsman, her fellow-workman in the
chase, of glorious victory, by which she wins a victory of tears. I,
therefore, will depart out of the way of this calamity before Agave comes
to the palace; but to be wise, and to reverence the Gods, this, I think, is
the most honorable and wisest thing for mortals who adopt it.

CHOR. Let us dance in honor of Bacchus; let us raise a shout for what has
befallen Pentheus, the descendant of the dragon, who assumed female attire
and the wand with the beautiful thyrsus,--a certain death, having a
bull[61] as his leader to calamity. Ye Cadmean Bacchants, ye have
accomplished a glorious victory, illustrious, yet for woe and tears. It is
a glorious contest to plunge one's dripping hand in the blood of one's son.
But--for I see Agave, the mother of Pentheus, coining to the house with
starting eyes; receive the revel of the Evian God.

AGAVE. O Asiatic Bacchæ!

CHOR. To what dost thou excite me? O!

AG. We bring from the mountains a fresh-culled wreathing[62] to the house,
a blessed prey.

CHOR. I see it, and hail you as a fellow-reveler, O!

AG. I have caught him without a noose, a young lion, as you may see.

CHOR. From what desert?

AG. Cithæron.

CHOR. What did Cithæron?

AG. Slew him.

CHOR. Who was it who first smote him?

AG. The honor is mine. Happy Agave! We are renowned in our revels.

CHOR. Who else?

AG. Cadmus's.

CHOR. What of Cadmus?

AG. Descendants after me, after me laid hands on this beast.

CHOR. You are fortunate in this capture.

AG. Partake then of our feast.

CHOR. What shall I, unhappy, partake of?

AG. The whelp is young about the chin; he has just lost his soft-haired
head-gear.[63]

AG. For it is beautiful as the mane of a wild beast.

CHOR. Bacchus, a wise huntsman, wisely hurried the Mænads against this
beast.

CHOR. For the king is a huntsman.

AG. Do you praise?

CHOR. What? I do praise.

AG. But soon the Cadmeans.

CHOR. And thy son Pentheus his mother--

AG. --will praise, as having caught this lion-born prey.

CHOR. An excellent prey.

AG. Excellently.

CHOR. You rejoice.

AG. I rejoice greatly, having accomplished great and illustrious deeds for
this land.

CHOR. Show now, O wretched woman, thy victorious booty to the citizens,
which you have come bringing with you.

AG. O, ye who dwell in the fair-towered city of the Theban land, come ye,
that ye may behold this prey, O daughters of Cadmus, of the wild beast
which we have taken; not by the thonged javelins of the Thessalians, not by
nets, but by the fingers, our white arms; then may we boast that we should
in vain possess the instruments of the spear-makers; but we, with this
hand, slew this beast, and tore its limbs asunder. Where is my aged father?
let him come near; and where is my son Pentheus? let him take and raise the
ascent of a wattled ladder against the house, that he may fasten to the
triglyphs this head of the lion which I am present having caught.

CAD. Follow me, bearing the miserable burden of Pentheus; follow me, O
servants, before the house; whose body here, laboring with immeasurable
search, I bear, having found it in the defiles of Cithæron, torn to pieces,
and finding nothing in the same place, lying in a thicket, difficult to be
searched. For I heard from some one of the daring deeds of my daughters
just as I came to the city within the walls, with the old Tiresias,
concerning the Bacchæ; and having returned again to the mountain, I bring
back my child, slain by the Mænads. And I saw Autonoe, who formerly bore
Actæon to Aristæus, and Ino together, still mad in the thicket, unhappy
creatures; but some one told me that Agave was coming hither with frantic
foot; nor did I hear a false tale, for I behold her, an unhappy sight.

AG. O father! you may boast a great boast, that you of mortals have
begotten by far the best daughters; I mean all, but particularly myself,
who, leaving my shuttle at the loom, have come to greater things, to catch
wild beasts with my hands. And having taken him, I bear in my arms, as you
see, these spoils of my valor, that they may be suspended against your
house. And do you, O father, receive them in your hands; and rejoicing over
my successful capture, invite your friends to a feast; for you are blessed,
blessed since I have done such deeds.

CAD. O, woe! and not to be seen, of those who have accomplished a slaughter
not to be measured by wretched hands; having stricken down a glorious
victim for the Gods, you invite Thebes and me to a banquet. Alas me, first
for thy ills, then for mine own; how justly, but how severely, has king
Bromius destroyed us, being one of our own family!

AG. How morose is old age in men! and sullen to the eye; would that my son
may be fond of hunting, resembling the disposition of his mother, when with
the Theban youths he would strive after the beasts--but he is only fit to
contend with Gods. He is to be admonished, O father, by you and me, not to
rejoice in clever evil. Where is he? Who will summon him hither to my
sight, that he may see me, that happy woman?

CAD. Alas, alas! knowing what ye have done, ye will grieve a sad grief; but
if forever ye remain in the condition in which ye are, not fortunate, you
will seem not to be unfortunate.

AG. But what of these matters is not well, or what is grievous?

CAD. First cast your eyes up to this sky.

AG. Well; why do you bid me look at it?

CAD. Is it still the same, or think you it is changed?

AG. It is brighter than formerly, and more divine.

CAD. Is then this fluttering still present to your soul?

AG. I understand not your word; but I become somehow sobered, changing from
my former mind.

CAD. Can you then hear any thing, and answer clearly?

AG. How I forget what we said before, O father!

CAD. To what house did you come in marriage?

AG. You gave me, as they say, to the sown Echion.

CAD. What son then was born in your house to your husband?

AG. Pentheus, by the association of myself and his father.

CAD. Whose head then have you in your arms?

AG. That of a lion, as those who hunted him said.

CAD. Look now rightly; short is the toil to see.

AG. Ah! what do I see? what is this I bear in my hands?

CAD. Look at it, and learn more clearly.

AG. I see the greatest grief, wretch that I am!

CAD. Does it seem to you to be like a lion?

AG. No: but I, wretched, hold the head of Pentheus.

CAD. Ay, much lamented before you recognized him.

AG. Who slew him, how came he into my hands?

CAD. O wretched truth, how unseasonably art thou come!

AG. Tell me, since delay causes a quivering at my heart.

CAD. You and your sisters slew him.

AG. And where did he die, in the house, or in what place?

CAD. Where formerly the dogs tore Actæon to pieces.

AG. But why did he, unhappy, go to Cithæron?

CAD. He went deriding the God and your Bacchic revels.

AG. But on what account did we go thither?

CAD. Ye were mad, and the whole city was frantic with Bacchus.[64]

AG. Bacchus undid us--now I perceive.

CAD. Being insulted with insolence--for ye thought him not a God.

AG. But the dear body of my child, O father!

CAD. I having with difficulty traced it, bring it all.

AG. What! rightly united in its joints? * * * *

AG. But what part had Pentheus in my folly?[65]

CAD. He was like you, not reverencing the God, therefore he joined all in
one ruin, both ye and this one, so as to ruin the house, and me, who being
childless of male children, see this branch of thy womb, O unhappy woman!
most miserably and shamefully slain--whom the house respected; you, O
child, who supported my house, born of my daughter, and was an object of
fear to the city; and no one wished to insult the old man, seeing you; for
he would have received a worthy punishment. But now I shall be cast out of
my house dishonored, I, the mighty Cadmus, who sowed the Theban race, and
reaped a most glorious crop; O dearest of men, for although no longer in
being, still thou shalt be counted by me as dearest of my children; no
longer touching this, my chin, with thy hand, addressing me, your mother's
father, wilt thou embrace me, my son, saying, Who injures, who insults you,
O father, who harasses your heart, being troublesome I say, that I may
punish him who does you wrong, O father. But now I am miserable, and thou
art wretched, and thy mother is pitiable, and thy relations are wretched.
But if there is any one who despises the Gods, looking on this man's death,
let him acknowledge the Gods.

CHOR. I grieve for thy state, O Cadmus; but your child has the punishment
of your daughter, deserved indeed, but grievous to you.

AG. O father, for you see how I am changed ...

BAC ... changing, you shall become a dragon, and your wife becoming a
beast, shall receive in exchange the form of a serpent, Harmonia, the
daughter of Mars, whom you had, being a mortal. And as the oracle of Jove
says, you shall drive with your wife a chariot of heifers, ruling over
barbarians; and with an innumerable army you shall sack many cities; and
when they plunder the temple of Apollo, they shall have a miserable return,
but Mars shall defend you and Harmonia, and shall settle your life in the
islands of the blessed. I say this, I, Bacchus, not born of a mortal
father, but of Jove; and if ye had known how to be wise when ye would not,
ye would have been happy, having the son of Jupiter for your ally.

CAD. Bacchus, we beseech thee, we have erred.

BAC. Ye have learned it too late; but when it behooved you, you knew it
not.

CAD. I knew it, but you press on us too severely.

BAC. [Ay,] for I, being a God, was insulted by you.

CAD. It is not right for Gods to resemble mortals in anger.[66]

BAC. My father, Jove, long ago decreed this.

AG. Alas! a miserable banishment is the decree[67] [for us,] old man.

BAC. Why do ye then delay what must needs be?

CAD. O child, into what terrible evil have we come; both you wretched and
your * * * * sisters,[68] and I miserable, shall go, an aged sojourner, to
foreigners. Still it is foretold that I shall bring into Greece a motley
barbarian army, and leading their spears, I, a dragon, shall lead the
daughter of Mars, Harmonia, my wife, having the fierce nature of a dragon,
to the altars and tombs of the Greeks. Nor shall I, wretched, rest from
ills, nor even sailing over the Acheron below shall I be at rest.

AG. O, my father! and I being deprived of you shall be banished.

CAD. Why do you embrace me with your hands, O unhappy child, as a white
swan does its exhausted[69] parent?

AG. For whither can I turn, cast out from my country?

CAD. I know not, my child; your father is a poor ally.

AG. Farewell, O house! farewell, O ancestral city! I leave you in
misfortune a fugitive from my chamber.

CAD. Go then, my child, to the land of Aristæus * * * *.

AG. I bemoan thee, O father!

CAD. And I thee, my child; and I lament your sisters.

AG. Terribly indeed has king Bacchus brought this misery upon thy house.

BAC. [Ay,] for I have suffered terrible things from ye, having a name
unhonored in Thebes.

AG. Farewell, my father.

CAD. And you farewell, O miserable daughter; yet you can not easily arrive
at this.

AG. Lead me, O guides, where I may take my miserable sisters as the
companions of my flight; and may I go where neither accursed Cithæron may
see me, nor I may see Cithæron with my eyes, and where there is no memory
of the thyrsus hallowed, but they may be a care to other Bacchæ.

CHOR. There are many forms of divine things; and the Gods bring to pass
many in an unexpected manner: both what has been expected has not been
accomplished, and God has found out a means for doing things unthought of.
So, too, has this event turned out.[70]

*       *       *       *       *

NOTES ON THE BACCHÆ

*       *       *       *

[1] For illustrations of the fable of this play, compare Hyginus, Fab.
clxxxiv., who evidently has a view to Euripides. Ovid, Metam. iii. fab. v.
Oppian, Cyneg. iv. 241 sqq. Nonnus, 45, p. 765 sq. and 46, p. 783 sqq.,
some of whose imitations I shall mention in my notes. With the opening
speech of this play compare the similar one of Venus in the Hippolytus.

[2] Cf. vs. 176; and for the musical instruments employed in the
Bacchanalian rites, vs. 125 sqq. Oppian, Cyn. iv. 243. [Greek: nebrisi d'
amphebalonto, kai estepsanto korymbois, En speï, kai peri paida to mystikon
ôrchêsanto. Tympana d' ektypeon, kai kymbala chersi krotainon]. Compare
Gorius, Monum. Libert. et Serv. ad Tab. vii. p. 15 sq.

[3] Such is the sense of [Greek: synapsomai], [Greek: machên] being
understood. See Matthiæ.

[4] Drums and cymbals were invented by the Goddess in order to drown the
cries of the infant Jupiter. Minutius Felix, xxi. "Avido patri subtrahitur
infans ne voretur, et Corybantum cymbalis, ne pater audiat, vagitus initus
eliditur" (read _audiat vagitus, tinnitus illi editur_, from the _vestigia_
of Cod. Reg.). Cf. Lactant. i. 13.

[5] Cf. Homer, Hymn. in Cerer. 485. [Greek: olbios, hos tad' opôpen
epichthoniôn anthrôpôn: Hos d' atelês, hierôn host' ammoros, oupoth'
homoiôn Aisan echei, phthimenos per, hypo zophôi eurôenti]. See Ruhnken's
note, and Valck. on Eur. Hippol.