“Make way there, a wide space
Yield to the god;
For Dionysos has a mind to walk
Bolt upright through your midst.”
The Phallophori made their appearance unmasked, shading their face with a drooping garland of wild thyme, intermingled with acanthus-leaves, and surmounted by an ample crown of ivy, with violets appearing between its glossy dark foliage. Their costume was the caunacè. Of these actors, some entered through the side-passages, others through the central door, advancing with measured tread, and saying,—
“Bacchos, to thee our muse belongs,
Of simple chant, and varied lays;
Nor fit for virgin ears our songs,
Nor handed down from ancient days:
Fresh flows the strain we pour to thee,