We have confessed. Yet is thine hand too hot.

DIONYSUS
Ye mocked me, being God; this your wage.

AGAVE
Should God be like a proud man in his rage?

DIONYSUS
'Tis as my sire, Zeus, willed it long ago.

AGAVE (_turning from him almost with disdain_)
Old man, the word is spoken; we must go.

DIONYSUS
And seeing ye must, what is it that ye wait?

CADMUS
Child, we are come into a deadly strait,
All; thou, poor sufferer, and thy sisters twain,
And my sad self. Far off to barbarous men,
A grey-haired wanderer, I must take my road.
And then the oracle, the doom of God,
That I must lead a raging horde far-flown
To prey on Hellas; lead my spouse, mine own
Harmonia. Ares' child, discorporate
And haunting forms, dragon and dragon-mate,
Against the tombs and altar-stones of Greece,
Lance upon lance behind us; and not cease
From toils, like other men, nor dream, nor past