Cadmus.
Nay, Child, 'tis I must weep for thee;
For thee and for thy sisters twain!
Agave.
On all this house, in bitter wise,
Our Lord and Master, Dionyse,
Hath poured the utter dregs of pain!
Dionysus.
In bitter wise, for bitter was the shame
Ye did me, when Thebes honoured not my name.
Agave.
Then lead me where my sisters be;
Together let our tears be shed,
Our ways be wandered; where no red
Kithaeron waits to gaze on me;
Nor I gaze back; no thyrsus stem,
Nor song, nor memory in the air.
Oh, other Bacchanals be there,
Not I, not I, to dream of them!
[Agave with her group of attendants goes out on the side away from the Mountain. Dionysus rises upon the Cloud and disappears.
Chorus.