-----Original Message----- From: Aimee Farr [mailto:aimee.farr@pobox.com] Sent: Monday, March 05, 2001 5:35 PM To: cypherunks@lne.com Subject: To The Private Secretary Of The Most Honorable Dionysos, Son of Zeus, In Thebes

To The Most Honorable Dionysos, Son Of Zeus, In Thebes:

And so hail to you, Dionysus, god of abundant clusters! He who produces the rich-clustering vine for mortals. You, Eubolius, so very enlightened. Lo! I am that Persephone, that Kore, that trim-ankled Maiden. A lowly Thesmophoria mystes, no sweet synthema springs forth from me. But if you will be moved by me -- for you, lord, are stronger and mightier than I, and your strength is very great.

Truly, I say to you, the Ivy-crown'd: "An Aeschylos Be Thee!" You innocent devourer of flesh so raw! Thou not fear Tyrrhenian pirates? Lo! The loud-crying god Thou Art! In Thine Own word: "They can not be told to mortals uninitiated in Bacchic revelry." Pentheus was rightful in his words to Thee: "How bold the Bacchant is, and not unpracticed in speaking! This stranger with whom I am locked together is impossible, and neither suffering nor doing will he be quiet."

Be favourable, O Insewn, Inspirer of frenzied women! We singers sing of you as we begin and as we end a strain, and none forgetting you may call holy song to mind. Listen, blessed one, to my voice, and breathe On me with a heart blameless and kind.

But I tell you truly and shortly all I know. And so I wandered and am come here: and I know not at all what land this is or what people are in it. Why do you seek to frighten me like a feeble child whose heart knows few words of blame, a fearful babe? Why do you seek to compare this nimble Nymph to couches and dusty things? Better to live in fellowship with the deathless gods continually, rich, wealthy, and enjoying stories of grain, than to sit always in a gloomy cave. I was born yesterday, and my feet are soft. If you will have it so, I will swear a great oath by my father's head and vow that neither am I guilty myself, neither have I seen any other who stole your cows -- whatever cows may be; for I know them only by hearsay.'

But whoso shall trust to idly-chattering birds and shall seek to invoke my prophetic art contrary to my will, I declare that he shall come on an idle journey; yet his gifts I would take. But if you tell all and foolishly boast that you lay with rich-crowned Aphrodite, Zeus will smite you in his anger with a smoking thunderbolt. Now I have told you all. Take heed: refrain and name me not, but have regard to the anger of the gods.' Hail, child of fair-faced Semele! He who is no lover of Milton.

She who forgets you can in no wise order sweet song.