Leader.
News from the mountain?—Speak! How hath it sped?
Messenger.
Pentheus, my king, Echîon's son, is dead!
Leader.
All hail, God of the Voice,
Manifest ever more!
Messenger.
What say'st thou?—And how strange thy tone, as though
In joy at this my master's overthrow!
Leader.
With fierce joy I rejoice,
Child of a savage shore;
For the chains of my prison are broken, and the dread
where I cowered of yore!