Is love so small a pain for a woman?
This thy wit hath no wit.
And ’tis a rare prize for a man to obtain such a wife, but there is no lack of getting a bad spouse.
We gain the most hateful things at the hand of those dearest.
And women, though most helpless in doing good deeds, Are of every evil the cleverest of contrivers.
Verily we must believe the Gods are senseless, if we feel well disposed to murderers.
Hurry, come hold me, though I am dead. Shed tears on my body as on my grave.
But my pain’s a fair price, to take away your smile.
DIONYSUS: You did not know me when you should have.
In your grief, too, I weep, mother of little children, You who will murder your own, In vengeance for the loss of married love.
See, how strong love overwhelms us. See, how it wounds and destroys and yet when Aphrodite wants to soothe, nothing cures as love cures. So, my love, shoot me gently, barely break my skin with your terrible arrows.
For it is the part of a wise man to practice restrained good temper.
This is what destroys the fine cities and homes of mortals: words spoken too well.
Any man of good sense should never have his children taught to be unusually clever.
Indeed it is not usual for the young to grieve.
On, on! Run, dance, delirious, possessed!
So that many characters which passed as heroic, or at least presentable, in the kindly remoteness of legend, reveal some strange weakness when brought suddenly into the light. When the tradition is Satyric, as here, the same process produces almost an opposite effect. It is somewhat as though the main plot of a gross and jolly farce were pondered over and made more true to human character till it emerged as a refined and rather pathetic comedy.
Teiresias: Yes well, what is it they say, you’re as young as you feel? Kadmos: We must get to the mountain. Should we call a cab? Teiresias: That doesn’t sound very Dionysian. Kadmos: Good point. Let’s walk.
Bakkhai: Might be a good idea, if it’s not too much bother, to show more respect for your old grandfather. Not to mention the gods. Teiresias: You’re bold and loud and glib, Pentheus, you should have been a lawyer. But you totally lack common sense. This “new invented daimon” you laugh at – take my word for it – he’s not one to laugh at. He’s going to be big.
Be happy, beloved face of my great friend. For us that is impossible, but you can be-we dead lack any source of delight.