Dionysus.
For Dionyse
'Tis well; for in thy scorn his glory lies.
Pentheus (to his guard).
Go swift to all the towers, and bar withal
Each gate!
Dionysus.
What, cannot God o'erleap a wall?
Pentheus.
Oh, wit thou hast, save where thou needest it!
Dionysus.
Whereso it most imports, there is my wit!—
Nay, peace! Abide till he who hasteth from
The mountain side with news for thee, be come.
We will not fly, but wait on thy command.