Maenad is only one, though perhaps the most common, of the many names applied to these worshipping women. In Macedonia Plutarch[990] tells us they were called Mimallones and Klodones, in Greece, Bacchae, Bassarides, Thyiades, Potniades and the like. Some of the titles crystallized into something like proper names, others remained consciously adjectival. At bottom they all express the same idea, women possessed by the spirit of Dionysos. Plutarch in his charming discourse on Superstition[991] tells how when the dithyrambic poet Timotheos was chanting a hymn to Artemis he addressed the daughter of Zeus thus: ‘Maenad, Thyiad, Phoibad, Lyssad.’ The titles may be Englished as Mad One, Rushing One, Inspired One, Raging One. Cinesias the lyric poet, whose own songs were doubtless couched in language less orgiastic, got up and said: ‘I wish you may have such a daughter of your own.’ The story is instructive on two counts. It shows first that Maenad and Thyiad were at the date of Timotheos so adjectival, so little crystallized into proper names, that they could be applied not merely to the worshippers of Dionysos, but to any orgiastic divinity, and second the passage is clear evidence that educated people, towards the close of the fifth century B.C., were beginning to be at issue with their own theological conceptions. Cultus practices however, and still more cultus epithets, lay far behind educated opinion. It is fortunately possible to prove that the epithet Thyiad certainly and the epithets Phoibad and Maenad probably, were applied to actually existing historical women. The epithet Lyssad, which means ‘raging mad,’ was not likely to prevail out of poetry. The chorus in the _Bacchae_[992] call themselves ‘swift hounds of raging Madness,’ but the title was not one that would appeal to respectable matrons. * * * * * We begin with the Thyiades. It is at Delphi that we learn most of their nature and worship, Delphi where high on Parnassos Dionysos held his orgies. Thus much even Aeschylus, though he is ‘all for Apollo,’ cannot deny. To this he makes the priestess[993] in her ceremonial recitation of local powers bear almost reluctant witness: ‘You too I salute, Ye nymphs about Korykia’s caverned rock, Kindly to birds, haunt of divinities. And Bromios, I forget not, holds the place, Since first to war he led his Bacchanals, And scattered Pentheus, like a riven hare.’ Aeschylus[994], intent on monotheism, would fain know only the two divinities who were really one, i.e. Zeus and ‘Loxias utterer of his father’s will,’