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Translated, with notes, by Th. Buckley.
58 pages - You are on Page 27 Pentheus: I will sacrifice, making a great slaughter of the women, as they deserve, in the glens of Cithaeron. Bacchus: You will all fly, (and that will be shameful,) so as to yield your brazen shields to the thyrsi of the Bacchae. Pentheus: We are troubled with this impracticable stranger, who neither suffering nor doing will be silent. Bacchus: My friend, there is still opportunity to arrange these things well. Pentheus: By doing what? being a slave to my slaves? Bacchus: I will bring the women here without arms. Pentheus: Alas! you are contriving some trick against me. Bacchus: Of what sort, if I wish to save you by my contrivances? Previous Page / First / Next Page of Bacchae
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