The Bacchae: Lines 1023 - 1392 Summary & Analysis

Time goes by in a mysterious way in this play. Pentheus has only just exited the stage, but already the second messenger brings news of his death. The second messenger accuses the chorus of being immoral, and the leader reiterates the idea that Dionysus offers people “freedom” rather than madness.

This emphasizes the importance of the thyrsus to Dionysus and his followers, rendering it as a symbol of their power. As with the previous messenger’s story about the Bacchae, this story begins with Dionysus’ followers seemingly at rest, making them seem momentarily less threatening.

Dionysus’ demonstration of strength with the tree is a further demonstration of his godliness. However, he’s not helping Pentheus—he’s making him a more obvious target.

Dionysus’ motivations become clear—Pentheus has to be punished for mocking him and refusing to pay him tribute. Dionysus brings lightning to the sky, echoing the godly attributes of his father, Zeus, whose “true” form was a lightning storm.

The previous messenger’s story prepared the audience for this display of violence. Dionysus has already demonstrated immense power over mortals and their world, be it through the destruction of the palace, his shape-shifting to destabilize Pentheus’ mind, or his possession of the minds of the Theban women. This means that he could have easily overpowered Pentheus in a less cruel way, but opts to force him to meet his death in these particularly tragic circumstances. Pentheus cries to his mother return him to the status of a scared little boy, thus stripping him of any remaining sense of magisterial identity.

Earlier, Dionysus and his followers claimed that Dionysian rituals restore people’s “true” selves; however, it’s hard to argue that Agave is not possessed by a kind of madness here. Besides her inability to recognize her own son, Agave is foaming at the mouth, which is usually a sign of serious mental or physical distress. Pentheus is killed in an especially violent manner, suggesting that Dionysus takes delight in treating non-believers cruelly.

Agave thinks she has hunted some wild creature, rather than her own son. The grisly image of Pentheus’ head impaled on the thyrsus creates a powerful symbol of Dionysus’ supremacy—Pentheus has become nothing more than a part of Agave’s Dionysian costume. The messenger’s parting words seem sensible, and suggest that Agave has reverence for the gods—but, fatally, has lost any capacity for moderation.

Dionysus makes Agave parade her delusions in front of the other characters and the audience. This heightens the sense of tragedy, particularly given that everyone apart from Agave assumes that she will soon realize her mistake. Perhaps the fact that she thinks Pentheus’ head is that of a lion has to do with the wig that he was wearing at the time of the Bacchae’s attack—in her frenzy, she might have confused the wig for a mane.

Cadmus is trying to piece Pentheus back together again, underscoring the incredibly violent nature of his death.  The audience is made to question whether Dionysus’ punishment was just and fair. Of course, one answer is that conventional standards of morality don’t apply to gods. Meanwhile, all three of the sisters are still in the grip of Dionysus’ power.

Agave is now displaying hubris, boasting about what she thinks is her great hunting success. As the old saying goes, pride comes before a fall.

As Cadmus says, Dionysus has brought about some kind of retribution, but it’s a terrible justice. By now, most audiences will feel that Dionysus’ actions are out of proportion with the original “crime.” If Dionysus is in some way the god of the irrational—or, at least, the god most concerned with disrupting society’s usual order—perhaps his own sense of justice is skewed.

Ironically, Cadmus instructs Agave to look up at the sky in order to clear her head—but the sky is also where the Greek gods are supposed to live, in a palace in the clouds. This also symbolizes Agave’s parting with her temporary animal nature, which was rooted to the land (by hunting and living amongst the pines). Both her deception and her restoration, then, are linked to the sky, suggesting the border between the worlds of the gods and the mortals is blurry.

Agave slowly returns to her pre-Dionysian self. As she can’t remember what they’ve been talking about, Euripides implies that Agave has alternated between two distinct states. However, any previous sense of self that comes back to her will be forever ruined when she learns of her actions. It seems that what’s taken place during the play has not portrayed a “freed” woman, but one under the possession of a god.

Euripides enhances the tragedy by having Cadmus reveal to Agave the full extent of her actions and her responsibility for Pentheus’ death. Though Cadmus lays the blame on Agave, if her actions were the result of her possession by Dionysus, it’s unclear if she is truly responsible. Part of the play’s sense of tragedy, then, is that it’s difficult to assign moral culpability.

Cadmus feels that the identity of his family has been lost through the destructive events of the play. This is also the first glimpse the audience gets of the positive side of Pentheus’ character—not much of a sense of Pentheus as a ruler has been given to the audience thus far.

Unbelievably, Dionysus isn’t finished yet. He returns to dish out this bizarre fate to Cadmus and Harmonia, and, as if it wasn’t already proven, to state his godliness once more. The audience is provoked to ask whether Dionysus’ “justice” is in itself a kind of madness, or just the mysterious workings of a god.

Cadmus’ question is central to the play: are gods above the passions of the mortals, or are mortals unable to properly understand the actions of the gods? That’s why Cadmus offered the pragmatic advice to Pentheus earlier in the play that it’s best to pay to tribute to the gods even if you’re not a true believer—a kind of insurance policy. Furthermore, in claiming that he already knew what was going to happen, Dionysus suggests that nobody in the play truly has free will—and therefore nobody is truly responsible for their actions.

Agave knows that she can never undo her terrible actions. Most audiences by this point will sympathize with Agave and Cadmus—but, in watching the play as entertainment, they have themselves indulged in actively enjoying the thrill of violence. Dionysus is the god of theatre, so accordingly the play asks whether there is a theatrical element to violence in human society.

Agave addresses Dionysus as a “Lord,” showing heartbroken respect for his superior power. She and Cadmus leave in different directions to symbolize the finality of the tragedy—they will likely never see each other again. The chorus strikes a slightly different tone from its blood lust earlier, here giving a fairly accurate description of what’s happened in the play—the unexpected. This final moment, then, reiterates that the gods are beyond the understanding of mortals. Even those who pay tribute to Dionysus in the play can’t be said to fully comprehend the extent—or motives—of his powers.