Pentheus.
What of the city streets? Canst lead me hence
Unseen of any?
Dionysus.
Lonely and untried
Thy path from hence shall be, and I thy guide!
Pentheus.
I care for nothing, so these Bacchanals
Triumph not against me! . . . Forward to my halls
Within!—I will ordain what seemeth best.
Dionysus.
So be it, O King! 'Tis mine to obey thine hest,
Whate'er it be.
Pentheus
(after hesitating once more and waiting).