The clang that I and mystic Rhea found,
The Timbrel of the Mountain! Gather all
Thebes to your song round Pentheus' royal hall.
I seek my new-made worshippers, to guide
Their dances up Kithaeron's pine clad side.

[_As he departs, there comes stealing in from the left a band of fifteen
Eastern Women, the light of the sunrise streaming upon their long white
robes and ivy-bound hair. They wear fawn-skins over the robes, and
carry some of them timbrels, some pipes and other instruments. Many
bear the thyrsus, or sacred Wand, made of reed ringed with ivy. They
enter stealthily till they see that the place is empty, and then begin
their mystic song of worship._]

CHORUS

_A Maiden_
From Asia, from the dayspring that uprises
To Bromios ever glorying we came.
We laboured for our Lord in many guises;
We toiled, but the toil is as the prize is;
Thou Mystery, we hail thee by thy name!

_Another_
Who lingers in the road? Who espies us?
We shall hide him in his house nor be bold.
Let the heart keep silence that defies us;
For I sing this day to Dionysus
The song that is appointed from of old.