Chapter 14 - Page 2

eternal. "Round about him fair Bacchantes,
Bearing cymbals, flutes and thyrses,
Wild from Naxian groves or Zante's
Vineyards, sing delirious verses." It was in vain Pentheus remonstrated, commanded, and threatened.
"Go," said he to his attendants, "seize this vagabond leader of
the rout and bring him to me. I will soon make him confess his
false claim of heavenly parentage and renounce his counterfeit
worship." It was in vain his nearest friends and wisest
counselors remonstrated and begged him not to oppose the god.
Their remonstrances only made him more violent. But now the attendants returned whom he had despatched to seize
Bacchus. They had been driven away by the Bacchanals, but had
succeeded in taking one of them prisoner, whom, with his hands
tied behind him, they brought before the king. Pentheus
beholding him, with wrathful countenance said, "Fellow! You
shall speedily be put to death, that your fate may be a warning
to others; but though I grudge the delay of your punishment,
speak, tell us who you are, and what are these new rites you
presume to celebrate." The prisoner unterrified responded, "My name is Acetes; my
country is Maeonia; my parents were poor people, who had no
fields or flocks to leave me, but they left me their fishing rods
and nets and their fisherman's trade. This I followed for some
time, till growing weary of remaining in one place, I learned the
pilot's art and how to guide my course by the stars. It happened
as I was sailing for Delos, we touched at the island of Dia and
went ashore. Next morning I sent the men for fresh water and
myself mounted the hill to observe the wind; when my men returned
bringing with them a prize, as they thought, a boy of delicate
appearance, whom they had found asleep. They judged he was a
noble youth, perhaps a king's son, and they might get a liberal
ransom for him. I observed his dress, his walk, his face. There
was something in them which I felt sure was more than mortal. I
said to my men, 'What god there is concealed in that form I know
not, but some one there certainly is. Pardon us, gentle deity,
for the violence we have done you, and give success to our
undertakings.' Dictys, one of my best hands for climbing the
mast and coming down by the ropes, and Melanthus, my steersman,
and Epopeus the leader of the sailors' cry, one and all
exclaimed, 'Spare your prayers for us.' So blind is the lust of
gain! When they proceeded to put him on board I resisted them.
'This ship shall not be profaned by such impiety,' said I. 'I
have a greater share in her than any of you.' But Lycabas, a
turbulent fellow, seized me by the throat and attempted to throw
me overboard, and I scarcely saved myself by clinging to the
ropes. The rest approved the