_Others_ O Strength of God, slow art thou and still, Yet failest never! On them that worship the Ruthless Will, On them that dream, doth His judgment wait. Dreams of the proud man, making great And greater ever, Things which are not of God. In wide And devious coverts, hunter-wise, He coucheth Time's unhasting stride, Following, following, him whose eyes Look not to Heaven. For all is vain, The pulse of the heart, the plot of the brain, That striveth beyond the laws that live. And is thy Fate so much to give, Is it so hard a thing to see, That the Spirit of God, whate'er it be, The Law that abides and changes not, ages long, The Eternal and Nature-born--these things be strong? What else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour Or God's high grace so lovely and so great? To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait; To hold a hand uplifted over Hate; And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever? LEADER Happy he, on the weary sea Who hath fled the tempest and won the haven. Happy whoso hath risen, free, Above his striving. For strangely graven Is the orb of life, that one and another In gold and power may outpass his brother, And men in their millions float and flow And seethe with a million hopes as leaven; And they win their Will, or they miss their Will, And the hopes are dead or are pined for still, But whoe'er can know, As the long days go, That To Live is happy, hath found his Heaven! [_Re-enter_ DIONYSUS, _from the Castle_] DIONYSUS O eye that cravest sights thou must not see, O heart athirst for that which slakes not! Thee, Pentheus, I call; forth and be seen, in guise Of woman, Maenad, saint of Dionyse, To spy upon His Chosen and thine own Mother! [_Enter_ PENTHEUS, _clad like a Bacchanal, and strangely excited, a spirit of Bacchic madness overshadowing him._] Thy shape, methinks, is like to one Of Cadmus' royal maids! PENTHEUS Yea; and mine eye Is bright! Yon sun shines twofold in the sky, Thebes twofold and the Wall of Seven Gates.... And is it a Wild Bull this, that walks and waits Before me? There are horns upon thy brow! What art thou, man or beast! For surely now The Bull is on thee! DIONYSUS He who erst was wrath, Goes with us now in gentleness. He hath Unsealed thine eyes to see what thou shouldst see. PENTHEUS Say; stand I not as Ino stands, or she Who bore me? DIONYSUS When I look on thee, it seems I see their very selves!--But stay; why streams That lock abroad, not where I laid it, crossed Under the coif? PENTHEUS I did it, as I tossed My head in dancing, to and fro, and cried His holy music!