Look once upon it full, till all be clear!
Agave.
I see . . . most deadly pain! Oh, woe is me!
Cadmus.
Wears it the likeness of a lion to thee?
Agave.
No; 'tis the head—O God!—of Pentheus, this!
Cadmus.
Blood-drenched ere thou wouldst know him! Aye, 'tis his.