PROMETHEUS BOUND
AESCHYLUS
(525-c.456 BCE)
CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY
Kratos (Might)
Violence
Hephaestus
Prometheus
Oceanos
Io, Priestess of Argos
Hermes
Chorus of the Daughters of Oceanos
SCENE: A bare and desolate crag within sight of the ocean.
Enter
Kratos (Might) and Violence dragging Prometheus, and Hephaestus. Prometheus
is thought to be an enormous puppet and mask, through which the actor
speaks
only after he is attached to the rock. Thus allowing for added
violence
to the chaining and pinning of Prometheus.
KRATOS This is the world's limit that
we
have come to; this is the Scythian country, an untrodden
desolation.
Hephaestus, it is you that must heed the commands of the
Father laid
upon
you to nail this malefactor to the high craggy rocks in fetters
unbreakable
of adamantine chain.
For it was your flower, the brightness of
the
fire that devices all, that he stole and gave tomortal men; this is the
sin
for which he must pay the Gods the penalty---that he may learn to
endure
and like the sovereignty of Zeus and quit his man-loving disposition.
HEPHAESTUS Kratos and Bia, for ye twain the hest
Of Zeus is done with; nothing lets you further.
But forcibly to bind a brother God,
In chains, in this deep chasm raked by all storms
I have not courage; yet needs must I pluck
Courage from manifest necessity,
For woe worth him that slights the Father's word.
O high-souled son of them is sage in counsel,
With heavy heart I must make thy heart heavy,
In bonds of brass not easy to be loosed,
Nailing thee to this crag where no wight dwells,
Nor sound of human voice nor shape of man
Shall visit thee; but the sun-blaze shall roast
Thy flesh; thy hue, flower-fair, shall suffer change;
Welcome will Night be when with spangled robe
She hides the light of day; welcome the sun
Returning to disperse the frosts of dawn.
And every hour shall bring its weight of woe
To wear thy heart away; for yet unborn
Is he who shall release Chee from thy pain.
This is thy wage for loving humankind.
For, being a God, thou dared'st the Gods' ill will,
Preferring, to exceeding honour, Man.
Wherefore thy long watch shall be comfortless,
Stretched on this rock, never to close an eye
Or bend a knee; and vainly shalt thou lift,
With groanings deep and lamentable cries,
Thy voice; for Zeus is hard to be entreated,
As new-born power is ever pitiless.
KRATOS Enough! Why palter? Why wast
idle
pity? Is not the God
Who the Gods loathe hateful to thee? Traitor to man of thy
prerogative?
HEPHAESTUS Kindred and fellowship are
dreaded
names.
KRATOS Questionless; but to slight the
Father's
word-
How sayest thou? Is not this fraught with more dread?
HEPHAESTUS Thy heart was ever hard and
overbold.
KRATOS But wailing will not ease him!
Waste
no pains
Where thy endeavour nothing profiteth.
HEPHAESTUS Oh execrable work! O
handicraft!
KRATOS Why curse thy trade? For what
thou
hast to do,
Troth, smithcraft is in no wise answerable.
HEPHAESTUS Would that it were
another's
craft, not mine!
KRATOS Why, all things are a burden
save
to rule
Over the Gods; for none is free but Zeus.
HEPHAESTUS To that I answer not,
knowing
it true.
KRATOS Why, then, make haste to cast
the
chains about him,
Lest glancing down on thee the Father's eye
Behold a
laggard and a loiterer.
HEPHAESTUS Here are the iron bracelets
for
his arms.
KRATOS Fasten them round his arms with
all
thy strength!
Strike with thy hammer! Nail him to the rocks!
HEPHAESTUS 'Tis done! and would that
it
were done less well!
KRATOS Harder-I say-strike
harder-screw
all tight
And be not in the least particular
Remiss, for unto one of
his
resource
Bars are but instruments of liberty.
HEPHAESTUS This forearm's fast: a
shackle
hard to shift.
KRATOS Now buckle this! and
handsomely!
Let him learn
Sharp though he be, he's a dull blade to Zeus.
HEPHAESTUS None can find fault with
this:
-save him it tortures.
KRATOS Now take thine iron spike and
drive
it in,
Until it gnaw clean through the rebel's breast.
HEPHAESTUS Woe's me, Prometheus, for
thy
weight of woe!
KRATOS Still shirking? still
a-groaning
for the foes
Of Zeus? Anon thou'lt wail thine own mishap.
HEPHAESTUS Thou seest what eyes scarce
bear
to look upon!
KRATOS I see this fellow getting his
deserts!
But strap him with a gelt about his ribs.
HEPHAESTUS I do what I must do: for
thee-less
words!
KRATOS "Words," quotha? Aye, and shout
'em
if need be. Come down and cast a ring-bolt round his legs.
HEPHAESTUS The thing is featly done;
and
'twas quick work.
KRATOS Now with a sound rap knock the
bolt-pins
home! For heavy-handed is thy task-master.
HEPHAESTUS So villainous a form vile
tongue
befits.
KRATOS Be thou the heart of wax, but
chide
not me That I am gruffish, stubborn and stiff-willed.
HEPHAESTUS Oh, come away! The tackle
holds
him fast.
KRATOS Now, where thou hang'st insult
Plunder
the Gods
For creatures of a day! To thee what gift
Will mortals tender
to requite thy pains? The destinies were out miscalling the Designer: a
designer thou wilt need
From trap so well contrived to twist thee free.
Exeunt.
PROMETHEUS O divine air Breezes on
swift
bird-wings,
Ye river fountains, and of ocean-waves
The multitudinous laughter Mother Earth! And thou all-seeing circle
of the sun,
Behold what I, a God, from Gods endure! Look down upon my shame,
The cruel wrong that racks my frame,
The grinding anguish that shall waste my strength,
Till time's ten thousand years have measured out their length!
He hath
devised these chains,
The new throned potentate who reigns,
Chief of the chieftains of the Blest. Ah me!
The woe which is and that which yet shall be I wail; and question make
of these wide skies
When shall the star of my deliverance rise.
And yet-and yet-exactly
I foresee
All that shall come to pass; no sharp surprise
Of pain shall overtake
me; what's determined
Bear, as I can, I must, knowing the might
Of strong Necessity is
unconquerable.
But touching my fate silence and speech alike
Are unsupportable. For
boons bestowed
On mortal men I am straitened in these bonds.
I sought the fount of
fire in hollow reed
Hid privily, a measureless resource
For man, and mighty teacher of
all arts.
This is the crime that I must expiate
Hung here in chains, nailed 'neath the open sky.
Ha! Ha! What echo,
what odour floats by with no sound?
God-wafted or mortal or mingled its strain?
Comes there one to this
world's end, this mountain-girt ground,
To have sight of my torment? Or of what is he fain?
A God ye behold
in bondage and pain,
The foe of Zeus and one at feud with all
The deities that find
Submissive
entry to the tyrant's hall;
His fault, too great a love of humankind.
Ah me! Ah me! what wafture
nigh at hand,
As of great birds of prey, is this I hear? The bright air fanned
Whistles
and shrills with rapid beat of wings.
There cometh nought but to my spirit brings Horror and fear.
The DAUGHTERS OF OCEANUS draw near in mid-air in their winged
chariot.
CHORUS Put thou all fear away! In
kindness
cometh this array
On wings of speed to mountain lone,
Our sire's consent not lightly won.
But a fresh breeze our convoy brought,
For loud the din of iron raught
Even to our sea-cave's cold recess,
And scared away the meek-eyed bashfulness. I tarried not to tic my
sandal shoe
But haste, post
haste, through air my winged chariot flew.
PROMETHEUS Ah me! Ah me! Fair progeny
That many-childed Tethys brought to birth,
Fathered of Ocean old Whose sleepless stream is rolled
Round the vast shores of earth
Look on me! Look upon these chains
Wherein I hang fast held
On rocks high-pinnacled,
My dungeon and my tower of dole,
Where o'er the abyss my soul,
Sad warder, her unwearied watch sustains!
CHORUS Prometheus, I am gazing on thee
now!
With the cold breath of fear upon my brow,
Not without mist of dimming tears,
While to my sight thy giant stature rears
Its bulk forpined upon these savage rocks
In shameful bonds the linked adamant locks.
For now new steersmen take the helm
Olympian; now with little thought
Of right, on strange, new laws Zeus establisheth his realm,
Bringing the mighty ones of old to naught.
PROMETHEUS Oh that he had conveyed me
'Neath earth, 'neath hell that swalloweth up the dead;
In Tartarus, illimitably vast
With adamantine fetters bound me fast-
There his fierce anger on me visited,
Where never mocking laughter could upbraid me
Of God or aught beside!
But now a wretch enskied,
A far-seen vane,
All they that hate me triumph in my pain.
CHORUS Who of the Gods is there so
pitiless
That he can triumph in thy sore distress?
Who doth not inly groan
With
every pang of thine save Zeus alone?
But he is ever wroth, not to be bent
From his resolved intent
The sons of heaven to subjugate;
Nor shall he
cease until his heart be satiate,
Or one a way devise
To hurl him from
the throne where he doth monarchize.
PROMETHEUS Yea, of a surety-though he
do
me wrong,
Loading my limbs with fetters strong-
The president Of heaven's
high parliament
Shall need me yet to show
What new conspiracy with privy
blow
Attempts his sceptre and his kingly seat.
Neither shall words with
all persuasion sweet,
Not though his tongue drop honey, cheat
Nor charm
my knowledge from me; nor dures
Of menace dire, fear of more grievous pains,
Unseal my lips, till he have loosed these chains,
And granted for these
injuries redress.
CHORUS High is the heart of thee,
Thy will
no whit by bitter woes unstrung,
And all too free
The licence of thy bold,
unshackled tongue.
But fear hath roused my soul with piercing cry!
And
for thy fate my heart misgives me! I
Tremble to know when through the breakers'
roar
Thy keel shall touch again the friendly shore;
For not by prayer to
Zeus is access won;
An unpersuadable heart hath Cronos' son.
PROMETHEUS I know the heart of Zeus is
hard,
that he hath tied
Justice to his side;
But he shall be full gentle thus
assuaged;
And, the implacable wrath wherewith he raged
Smoothed quite away,
nor he nor I
Be loth to seal a bond of peace and amity.
CHORUS All that thou hast to tell I
pray
unfold,
That we may hear at large upon what count
Zeus took thee and with
bitter wrong affronts:
Instruct us, if the telling hurt thee not.
PROMETHEUS These things are sorrowful
for
me to speak,
Yet silence too is sorrow: all ways woe!
When first the Blessed
Ones were filled with wrath
And there arose division in their midst,
These
instant to hurl Cronos from his throne
That Zeus might be their king, and
these, adverse,
Contending that he ne'er should rule the Gods,
Then I,
wise counsel urging to persuade
The Titans, sons of Ouranos and Chthon,
Prevailed not: but, all indirect essays
Despising, they by the strong hand,
effortless,
Yet by main force-supposed that they might seize
Supremacy.
But me my mother Themis
And Gaia, one form called by many names,
Not once
alone with voice oracular
Had prophesied how power should be disposed-
That not by strength neither by violence
The mighty should be mastered,
but by guile.
Which things by me set forth at large, they scorned,
Nor
graced my motion with the least regard.
Then, of all ways that offered,
I judged best,
Taking my mother with me, to support,
No backward friend,
the not less cordial Zeus.
And by my politic counsel Tartarus,
The bottomless
and black, old Cronos hides
With his confederates. So helped by me,
The
tyrant of the Gods, such service rendered
With ignominonus chastisement
requites.
But 'tis a common malady of power
Tyrannical never to trust a
friend. A
nd now, what ye inquired, for what arraigned
He shamefully entreats
me, ye shall know.
When first upon his high, paternal throne
He took his
seat, forthwith to divers Gods
Divers good gifts he gave, and parcelled
out
His empire, but of miserable men
Recked not at all; rather it was his
wish
To wipe out man and rear another race:
And these designs none contravened
but me.
I risked the bold attempt, and saved mankind
From stark destruction
and the road to hell.
Therefore with this sore penance am I bowed,
Grievous
to suffer, pitiful to see.
But, for compassion shown to man, such fate
I no wise earned; rather in wrath's despite
Am I to be reformed, and made
a show
Of infamy to Zeus.
CHORUS He hath a heart
Of iron, hewn out
of unfeeling rock
Is he, Prometheus, whom thy sufferings
Rouse not to wrath.
Would I had ne'er beheld them,
For verily the sight hath wrung my heart.
PROMETHEUS Yea, to my friends a woeful
sight
am I.
CHORUS Hast not more boldly in aught
else
transgressed?
PROMETHEUS I took from man expectancy
of
death.
CHORUS What medicine found'st thou for
this
malady?
PROMETHEUS I planted blind hope in the
heart
of him.
CHORUS A mighty boon thou gavest there
to
man.
PROMETHEUS Moreover, I conferred the
gift
of fire.
CHORUS And have frail mortals now the
flame-bright
fire?
PROMETHEUS Yea, and shall master many
arts
thereby.
CHORUS And Zeus with such misfeasance
charging
thee-
PROMETHEUS Torments me with extremity
of
woe.
CHORUS And is no end in prospect of
thy
pains?
PROMETHEUS None; save when he shall
choose
to make an end.
CHORUS How should he choose?
What hope
is
thine? Dost thou
Not see that thou hast erred? But how thou erredst
Small
pleasure were to me to tell; to the
Exceeding sorrow. Let it go then:
rather
Seek thou for some deliverance from thy woes.
PROMETHEUS He who stands free with an
untrammelled
foot
Is quick to counsel and exhort a friend
In trouble. But all these
things I know well.
Of my free will, my own free will, I erred,
And
freely
do I here acknowledge it.
Freeing mankind myself have durance found.
Natheless,
I looked not for sentence so dread,
High on this precipice to droop and
pine,
Having no neighbour but the desolate crags.
And now lament no
more
the ills I suffer,
But come to earth and an attentive ear
Lend to the
things
that shall befall hereafter.
Harken, oh harken, suffer as I suffer!
Who
knows, who knows, but on some scatheless head,
Another's yet for the
like
woes reserved,
The wandering doom will presently alight?
CHORUS Prometheus, we have heard thy
call:
Not on deaf cars these awful accents fall.
Lo! lightly leaving at thy
words
My flying car
And holy air, the pathway of great birds,
I long to tread
this land of peak and scar,
And certify myself by tidings sure
Of all
thou
hast endured and must endure.
While the winged chariot of the OCEANIDES comes to ground, their
father
OCEANUS enters, riding on a monster.
OCEANUS Now have I traversed the
unending
plain
And unto thee, Prometheus, am I come,
Guiding this winghd monster
with no rein,
Nor any bit, but mind's firm masterdom.
And know that for
thy grief my heart is sore;
The bond of kind, methinks, constraineth
me;
Nor is there any I would honour more,
Apart from kinship, than I
reverence
thee.
And thou shalt learn that I speak verity:
Mine is no smooth,
false
tongue; for do but show
How I can serve thee, grieved and outraged
thus,
Thou ne'er shalt say thou hast, come weal, come woe,
A friend more
faithful
than Oceanus.
PROMETHEUS How now? Who greets me?
What!
Art thou too come
To gaze upon my woes? How could'st thou leave
The
stream
that bears thy name, thine antres arched
With native rock, to visit
earth
that breeds
The massy iron in her womb? Com'st thou
To be spectator of
my evil lot
And fellow sympathizer with my woes?
Behold, a thing indeed
to gaze upon
The friend of Zeus, co-stablisher of his rule,
See, by
this
sentence with what pains I am bowed.
OCEANUS Prometheus, all too plainly I
behold:
And for the best would counsel thee: albeit
Thy brain is subtle. Learn
to know thy heart,
And, as the times, so let thy manners change,
For by
the law of change a new God rules.
But, if these bitter, savage,
sharp-set
words
Thou ventest, it may be, though he sit throned
Far off and high
above
thee, Zeus will hear;
And then thy present multitude of ills
Will seem
the mild correction of a babe. Rather,
O thou much chastened one,
refrain
Thine anger, and from suffering seek release.
Stale, peradventure, seem
these words of mine:
Nevertheless, of a too haughty tongue
Such
punishment, Prometheus, is the wage.
But thou, not yet brought low by suffering,
To
what thou hast of ill would'st add far worse.
Therefore, while thou
hast
me for schoolmaster,
Thou shalt not kick against the pricks; the more
That
an arch-despot who no audit dreads
Rules by his own rough will.
And now
I leave thee,
To strive with what success I may command
For thy
deliv'rance.
Keep a quiet mind
And use not over-vehemence of speech-
Knowest thou
not,
being exceeding wise,
A wanton, idle tongue brings chastisement?
PROMETHEUS I marvel that thou art not
in
my case,
Seeing with me thou did'st adventure all.
And now, I do
entreat
thee, spare thyself.
Thou wilt not move him: he's not easy moved
Take
heed
lest thou find trouble by the way.
OCEANUS Thou are a better counsellor
to
others
Than to thyself: I judge by deeds not words.
Pluck me not back
when
I would fain set forth.
My oath upon it, Zeus will grant my prayer
And
free thee from these pangs
.
PROMETHEUS I tender
For this my
thanks
and ever-during praise.
Certes, no backward friend art thou; and yet
Trouble
not thyself; for at the best thy labour
Will nothing serve me, if thou
mean'st to serve.
Being thyself untrammelled stand fast.
For, not to
mitigate
my own mischance,
Would I see others hap on evil days.
The thought be
far
from me. I feel the weight
Of Atlas' woes, my brother in the west
Shouldering
the pillar that props heaven and earth,
No wieldy fardel for his arms
to
fold.
The giant dweller in Cilician dens I saw and pitied-a terrific
shape,
A hundred-headed monster-when he fell,
Resistless Typhon who withstood
the Gods,
With fearsome hiss of beak-mouth horrible,
While lightning
from
his eyes with Gorgon-glare
Flashed for the ravage of the realm of Zeus.
But on him came the bolt that never sleeps,
Down-crashing thunder, with
emitted fire,
Which shattered him and all his towering hopes
Dashed
into
ruin; smitten through the breast,
His strength as smoking cinder,
lightning-charred.
And now a heap, a helpless, sprawling hulk,
He lies stretched out
beside
the narrow seas,
Pounded and crushed deep under Etna's roots.
But on
the
mountain-top Hephaestus sits
Forging the molten iron, whence shall
burst
Rivers of fire, with red and ravening jaws
To waste fair-fruited,
smooth,
Sicilian fields.
Such bilious up-boiling of his ire
Shall Typho vent,
with
slingstone-showers red-hot,
And unapproachable surge of fiery spray,
Although
combusted by the bolt of Zeus.
But thou art not unlearned, nor needest
me
To be thy teacher: save thyself the way
Thou knowest and I will
fortify
my heart
Until the wrathfulness of Zeus abate.
OCEANUS Nay then, Prometheus, art thou
ignorant
Words are physicians to a wrath-sick soul?
PROMETHEUS Yes, if with skill one
soften
the ripe core,
Not by rough measures make it obdurate.
OCEANUS Seest thou in warm affection
detriment
Or aught untoward in adventuring?
PROMETHEUS A load of toil and a light
mind
withal.
OCEANUS Then give me leave to call
that
sickness mine.
Wise men accounted fools attain their ends.
PROMETHEUS But how if I am galled by
thine
offence?
OCEANUS There very palpably thou
thrustest
home.
PROMETHEUS Beware lest thou through
pity
come to broils.
OCEANUS With one established in
Omnipotence?
Of him take heed lest thou
find
heaviness.
OCEANUS I am schooled by thy calamity,
Prometheus!
PROMETHEUS Pack then! And, prithee, do not change thy mind!
OCEANUS Thou criest "On" to one in
haste
to go.
For look, my dragon with impatient wings
Flaps at the broad,
smooth
road of level air.
Fain would he kneel him down in his own stall.
Exit
Oceanus
CHORUS (after alighting) I mourn for
thee, Prometheus, minished and brought low,
Watering my virgin cheeks with
these
sad drops, that flow
From sorrow's rainy fount, to fill soft-lidded
eyes
With pure libations for thy fortune's obsequies.
An evil portion that
none
coveteth hath Zeus
Prepared for thee; by self-made laws established for
his use
Disposing all, the elder Gods he purposeth to show
How strong
is
that right arm wherewith he smites a foe.
There hath gone up a cry from
earth, a groaning for the fall
Of things of old renown and shapes
majestical,
And for thy passing an exceeding bitter groan;
For thee and for thy
brother
Gods whose honour was thine own:
These things all they who dwell in
Asia's
holy seat,
Time's minions, mourn and with their groans thy groans
repeat.
Yea, and they mourn who dwell beside the Colchian shore,
The hero maids
unwedded that delight in war,
And Scythia's swarming myriads who their
dwelling make
Around the borders of the world, the salt Maeotian lake.
Mourns Ares' stock, that flowers in desert Araby,
And the strong city
mourns,
the hill-fort planted high,
Near neighbour to huge Caucasus, dread
mountaineers
That love the clash of arms, the counter of sharp spears.
Beforetime of
all Gods one have I seen in pain, One only
Titan bound with adamantine
chain,
Atlas in strength supreme, who groaning stoops, downbent
Under
the
burthen of the earth and heaven's broad firmament.
Bellows the main of
waters, surge with foam-seethed surge
Clashing tumultuous; for thee the
deep seas chant their dirge;
And Hell's dark under-world a hollow
moaning
fills;
Thee mourn the sacred streams with all their fountain-rills.
PROMETHEUS Think not that I for pride
and
stubbornness
Am silent: rather is my heart the prey
Of gnawing
thoughts,
both for the past, and now
Seeing myself by vengeance buffeted.
For to
these younger Gods their precedence
Who severally determined if not I?
No more of that: I should but weary you
With things ye know; but listen
to the tale
Of human sufferings, and how at first
Senseless as beasts I
gave men sense, possessed them
Of mind. I speak not in contempt of man;
I do but tell of good gifts I conferred.
In the beginning, seeing they
saw amiss,
And hearing heard not, but, like phantoms huddled
In dreams,
the perplexed story of their days
Confounded; knowing neither
timber-work
Nor brick-built dwellings basking in the light,
But dug for themselves
holes, wherein like ants,
That hardly may contend against a breath,
They
dwelt in burrows of their unsunned caves.
Neither of winter's cold had
they fixed sign,
Nor of the spring when she comes decked with flowers,
Nor yet of summer's heat with melting fruits
Sure token: but utterly
without
knowledge
Moiled, until I the rising of the stars
Showed them, and when
they set, though much obscure.
Moreover, number, the most excellent
Of
all inventions, I for them devised,
And gave them writing that
retaineth
all,
The serviceable mother of the Muse.
I was the first that yoked
unmanaged
beasts,
To serve as slaves with collar and with pack,
And take upon
themselves,
to man's relief,
The heaviest labour of his hands: and
Tamed to the
rein
and drove in wheeled cars
The horse, of sumptuous pride the ornament.
And
those sea-wanderers with the wings of cloth,
The shipman's waggons,
none
but I contrived.
These manifold inventions for mankind I perfected,
who,
out upon't, have none-
No, not one shift-to rid me of this shame.
CHORUS Thy sufferings have been
shameful,
and thy mind
Strays at a loss: like to a bad physician
Fallen sick,
thou'rt
out of heart: nor cans't prescribe
For thine own case the draught to
make
thee sound.
PROMETHEUS But hear the sequel and the
more
admire
What arts, what aids I cleverly evolved.
The chiefest that, if
any
man fell sick,
There was no help for him, comestible,
Lotion or potion;
but for lack of drugs
They dwindled quite away; until I taught them
To
compound draughts and mixtures sanative,
Wherewith they now are armed
against
disease.
I staked the winding path of divination
And was the first
distinguisher
of dreams,
The true from false; and voices ominous
Of meaning dark
interpreted;
and tokens
Seen when men take the road; and augury
By flight of all the
greater crook-clawed birds
With nice discrimination I defined;
These by
their nature fair and favourable,
Those, flattered with fair name. And
of each sort
The habits I described; their mutual feuds
And friendships
and the assemblages they hold.
And of the plumpness of the inward parts
What colour is acceptable to the Gods,
The well-streaked liver-lobe and
gall-bladder.
Also by roasting limbs well wrapped in fat
And the long
chine,
I led men on the road
Of dark and riddling knowledge; and I purged
The
glancing eye of fire, dim before,
And made its meaning plain.
These are
my works.
Then, things beneath the earth, aids hid from man,
Brass,
iron,
silver, gold, who dares to say
He was before me in discovering?
None, I
wot well, unless he loves to babble.
And in a single word to sum the
whole-
All manner of arts men from Prometheus learned.
CHORUS Shoot not beyond the mark in
succouring
man
While thou thyself art comfortless: for
Am of good hope that from
these
bonds escaped
Thou shalt one day be mightier than Zeus.
PROMETHEUS Fate, that brinks all
things
to an end, not thus
Apport
Io
neth my lot: ten thousand pangs
Must bow, ten thousand
miseries
afflict me
Ere from these bonds I freedom find, for
Art Is by much
weaker
than Necessity.
CHORUS Who is the pilot of Necessity?
PROMETHEUS The Fates triform, and the
unforgetting
Furies.
CHORUS So then Zeus is of lesser might
than
these?
PROMETHEUS Surely he shall not shun
the
lot apportioned.
CHORUS What lot for Zeus save
world-without-end
reign?
PROMETHEUS Tax me no further with
importunate
questions.
CHORUS O deep the mystery thou
shroudest
there
PROMETHEUS Of aught but this freely
thou
may'st discourse;
But touching this I charge thee speak no word;
Nay,
veil
it utterly: for strictly kept
The secret from these bonds shall set me
free.
CHORUS May Zeus who all things swayeth
Ne'er
wreak the might none stayeth
On wayward will of mine;
May I stint not
nor
waver
With offerings of sweet savour
And feasts of slaughtered kine;
The
holy to the holy,
With frequent feet and lowly
At altar, fane and
shrine,
Over the Ocean marches,
The deep that no drought parches,
Draw near to
the divine.
My tongue the Gods estrange not;
My firm set purpose change
not,
As wax melts in fire-shine.
Sweet is the life that lengthens,
While
joyous hope still strengthens,
And glad, bright thoughts sustain;
But
shuddering
I behold thee,
The sorrows that enfold thee
And all thine endless pain.
For Zeus thou hast despised;
Thy fearless heart misprized
All that his
vengeance can,
Thy wayward will obeying,
Excess of honour paying,
Prometheus,
unto man.
And, oh, beloved, for this graceless grace
What thanks?
What
prowess for thy bold essay
Shall champion thee from men of mortal race,
The petty insects of a passing day?
Saw'st not how puny is the strength
they spend?
With few, faint steps walking as dreams and blind,
Nor can
the utmost of their lore transcend
The harmony of the Eternal Mind.
These
things I learned seeing thy glory dimmed, Prometheus.
Ah, not thus on
me
was shed
The rapture of sweet music, when I hymned
The marriage-song
round
bath and bridal bed
At thine espousals, and of thy blood-kin,
A bride
thou
chosest, wooing her to thee
With all good gifts that may a Goddess win,
Thy father's child, divine Hesione.
Enter IO, crazed and hounded.
IO What land is this?
What people here
abide?
And who is he,
The prisoner of this windswept mountain-side?
Speak,
speak
to me;
Tell me, poor caitiff, how did'st thou transgress,
Thus
buffeted?
Whither am I, half-dead with weariness,
For-wandered? Ha! Ha!
Again the
prick, the stab of gadfly-sting!
O earth, earth, hide,
The hollow
shape-Argus-that
evil thing-
The hundred-eyed- Earth-born-herdsman! I see him yet; he
stalks
With stealthy pace
And crafty watch not all my poor wit baulks! From
the
deep place
Of earth that hath his bones he breaketh bound,
And from the
pale
Of Death, the Underworld, a hell-sent hound
On the blood-trail,
Fasting
and faint he drives me on before,
With spectral hand,
Along the
windings
of the wasteful shore,
The salt sea-sand! List! List! the pipe! how
drowzily
it shrills!
A cricket-cry! See! See! the wax-webbed reeds! Oh, to these
ills
Ye Gods on high, Ye blessed Gods, what bourne?
O wandering feet
When
will ye rest?
O Cronian child, wherein by aught unmeet
Have I
transgressed
To be yoke-fellow with calamity?
My mind unstrung,
A crack-brained
lack-wit,
frantic mad am I,
By gad-fly stung,
Thy scourge, that tarres me on with
buzzing wingl
Plunge me in fire,
Hide me in earth, to deep-sea monsters
fling,
But my desire-
Kneeling I pray-grudge not to grant, O King!
Too
long a race
Stripped for the course have I run to and fro;
And still I
chase
The vanishing goal, the end of all my woe;
Enough have I mourned!
Hear'st thou the lowing of the maid cow-horned?
PROMETHEUS How should I hear thee not?
Thou
art the child
Of Inachus, dazed with the dizzying fly.
The heart of
Zeus
thou hast made hot with love
And Hera's curse even as a runner stripped
Pursues thee ever on thine endless round.
IO How dost thou know my father's
name?
Impart To one like thee
A poor, distressful creature, who thou art.
Sorrow
with me, Sorrowful one!
Tell me, whose voice proclaims
Things true and
sad,
Naming by all their old, unhappy names,
What drove me mad-
Sick!
Sick!
ye Gods, with suffering ye have sent,
That clings and clings;
Wasting
my
lamp of life till it be spent!
Crazed with your stings!
Famished I come
with trampling and with leaping,
Torment and shame,
To Hera's cruel
wrath,
her craft unsleeping,
Captive and tame
Of all wights woe-begone and
fortune-crossed,
Oh, in the storm
Of the world's sorrow is there one so lost? Speak,
godlike
form,
And be in this dark world my oracle I
Can'st thou not sift
The
things
to come?
Hast thou no art to tell
What subtle shift,
Or sound of
charming
song shall make me well?
Hide naught of ill
But-if indeed thou
knowest-prophesy-
n words that thrill
Clear-toned through air-what such a wretch as
Must
yet abide-
The lost, lost maid that roams earth's kingdoms wide?
PROMETHEUS What thou wouldst learn I
will
make clear to thee,
Not weaving subtleties, but simple sooth
Unfolding
as the mouth should speak to friends.
I am Prometheus, giver of fire to
mortals.
IO Oh universal succour of mankind,
Sorrowful Prometheus, why art thou punished thus?
PROMETHEUS I have but now
ceased
mourning for my griefs.
IO Wilt thou not grant me then so
small
a boon?
PROMETHEUS What is it thou dost ask?
Thou
shalt know all.
IO Declare to me who chained thee in
this
gorge.
PROMETHEUS The hest of Zeus, but 'twas
Hephaestus' hand.
IO But what transgression dost thou
expiate?
PROMETHEUS Let this suffice thee: thou
shalt
know no more.
IO Nay, but the end of my long
wandering
When shall it be? This too thou must declare.
PROMETHEUS That it is better for thee
not
to know.
IO Oh hide not from me what I have to
suffer!
PROMETHEUS Poor child! Poor child! I
do
not grudge the gift.
IO Why then, art thou so slow to tell
me
all?
PROMETHEUS It is not from unkindness;
but
I fear
'Twill break thy heart.
IO Take thou no thought for me
Where
thinking
thwarteth heart's desire!
PROMETHEUS So keen To know thy
sorrows!
List I and thou shalt learn.
CHORUS Not till thou hast indulged a
wish
of mine.
First let us hear the story of her grief
And she herself shall
tell the woeful tale.
After, thy wisdom shall impart to her
The
conflict
yet to come.
PROMETHEUS So be it, then.
And, IO,
thus
much courtesy thou owest
These maidens being thine own father's kin.
For
with a moving story of our woes
To win a tear from weeping auditors
In
nought demeans the teller.
IO I know not
How fitly to refuse; and
at
your wish
All ye desire to know I will in plain,
Round terms set forth.
And yet the telling of it
Harrows my soul; this winter's tale of wrong,
Of angry Gods and brute deformity,
And how and why on me these horrors
swooped.
Always there were dreams visiting by night
The woman's
chambers
where I slept; and they
With flattering words admonished and cajoled
me,
Saying, "O lucky one, so long a maid?
And what a match for thee if thou
would'st wed
Why, pretty, here is Zeus as hot as hot-
Love-sick-to have
thee! Such a bolt as thou
Hast shot clean through his heart
And he
won't
rest Till Cypris help him win thee!
Lift not then,
My daughter, a proud
foot to spurn the bed
Of Zeus: but get thee gone to meadow deep
By
Lerna's
marsh, where are thy father's flocks
And cattle-folds, that on the eye
of Zeus
May fall the balm that shall assuage desire."
Such dreams
oppressed
me, troubling all my nights,
Woe's me! till I plucked courage up to
tell
My father of these fears that walked in darkness.
And many times to
Pytho
and Dodona
He sent his sacred missioners, to inquire
How, or by deed or
word, he might conform
To the high will and pleasure of the Gods.
And
they
returned with slippery oracles,
Nought plain, but all to baffle and
perplex-
And then at last to Inachus there raught
A saying that flashed clear;
the
drift, that
Must be put out from home and country, forced
To be a
wanderer
at the ends of the earth,
A thing devote and dedicate; and if I would
not,
there should fall a thunderbolt
From Zeus, with blinding flash, and
utterly
Destroy my race. So spake the oracle
Of Loxias. In sorrow he obeyed,
And
from beneath his roof drove forth his child
Grieving as he grieved, and
from house and home
Bolted and barred me out. But the high hand
Of Zeus
bear hardly on the rein of fate.
And, instantly-even in a moment-mind
And
body suffered strange distortion.
Horned Even as ye see me now, and
with
sharp bite
Of gadfly pricked, with high-flung skip, stark-mad,
I
bounded,
galloping headlong on, until I came to the sweet and of the stream
Kerchneian,
hard by Lerna's spring.
And thither Argus, the giant herdsman, fierce
and
fell
As a strong wine unmixed, with hateful cast
Of all his cunning
eyes
upon the trail,
Gave chase and tracked me down.
And there he perished
By
violent and sudden doom surprised.
But I with darting sting-the
scorpion
whip
Of angry Gods-am lashed from land to land.
Thou hast my story,
and,
if thou can'st tell
What I have still to suffer, speak; but do not,
Moved
by compassion, with a lying tale
Warm my cold heart; no sickness of the
soul
Is half so shameful as composed falsehoods.
CHORUS Off! lost one! off!
Horror, I
cry!
Horror and misery
Was this the traveller's tale I craved to hear?
Oh,
that
mine eyes should see
A sight so ill to look upon!
Ah me! Sorrow,
defilement,
haunting fear,
Fan my blood cold,
Stabbed with a two-edged sting!
O
Fate,
Fate, Fate, tremblingly I behold
The plight of Io, thine apportioning!
PROMETHEUS Thou dost lament too soon,
and
art as one
All fear. Refrain thyself till thou hast heard
What's yet to
be.
CHORUS Speak and be our instructor:
There
is a kind of balm to the sick soul
In certain knowledge of the grief to
come.
PROMETHEUS Your former wish I lightly
granted
ye:
And ye have heard, even as ye desired,
From this maid's lips the
story
of her sorrow.
Now hear the sequel, the ensuing woes
The damsel must
endure
from Hera's hate.
And thou,
O seed of Inachaean loins,
Weigh well my
words,
that thou may'st understand
Thy journey's end. First towards the rising
sun
Turn hence, and traverse fields that ne'er felt plough
Until thou
reach
the country of the Scyths,
A race of wanderers handling the long-bow
That
shoots afar, and having their habitations
Under the open sky in wattled
cotes
That move on wheels. Go not thou nigh to them,
But ever within
sound
of the breaking waver,
Pass through their land. And on the left of the
The Chalybes, workers in iron, dwell.
Beware of them, for they are
savages,
Who suffer not a stranger to come near.
And thou shalt reach the river
Hybristes,
Well named. Cross not, for it is ill to cross,
Until thou
come
even unto Caucasus,
Highest of mountains, where the foaming river
Blows
all its volume from the summit ridge
That o'ertops all. And that
star-neighboured
ridge
Thy feet must climb; and, following the road
That runneth south,
thou presently shall reach
The Amazonian hosts that loathe the male,
And
shall one day remove from thence and found
Themiscyra hard by
Thermodon's
stream,
Where on the craggy Salmadessian coast
Waves gnash their teeth,
the maw of mariners
And step-mother of ships. And they shall lead the
Upon
thy way, and with a right good will.
Then shalt thou come to the
Cimmerian
Isthmus,
Even at the pass and portals of the sea,
And leaving it behind
thee, stout of heart,
Cross o'er the channel of Maeotis' lake.
For ever
famous among men shall be
The story of thy crossing, and the strait
Be
called by a new name, the Bosporus,
In memory of thee.
Then having left
Europa's soil behind thee thou shalt come
To the main land of Asia.
What
think ye?
Is not the only ruler of the Gods
A complete tyrant, violent
to all, Respecting none?
First, being himself a God,
He burneth to
enjoy
a mortal maid,
And then torments her with these wanderings.
A sorry
suitor
for thy love, poor girl,
A bitter wooing.
Yet having heard so much
Thou
art not even in the overture
And prelude of the song.
IO Alas! Oh! Oh!
PROMETHEUS Thou dost cryout, fetching
again
deep groans:
What wilt thou do when thou hast heard in full
The evils
yet
to come?
CHORUS And wilt thou tell
The maiden
something
further: some fresh sorrow?
PROMETHEUS A stormy sea of wrong and
ruining.
IO What does it profit me to live! Oh,
why
Do I not throw myself from this rough crag
And in one leap rid me of
all
my pain?
Better to die at once than live, and all
My days be evil.
PROMETHEUS Thou would'st find it hard
To
bear what I must bear: for unto me
It is not given to die,-a dear
release
From pain; but now of suffering there is
No end in sight till Zeus
shall
fall.
IO And shall Zeus fall?
His power be
taken
from him?
No matter when if true-
PROMETHEUS 'Twould make thee happy
Methinks,
if thou could'st see calamity
Whelm him.
IO How should it not when all my woes
Are
of his sending? learn how
These things shall be. The tyrant's rod?
And
fond imaginings.
IO But how? Oh, speak, If the
declaring
draw no evil down I
PROMETHEUS A marriage he shall make
shall
vex him sore.
IO A marriage? Whether of gods or
mortals?
Speak! If this be utterable!
PROMETHEUS Why dost thou ask
What I
may
not declare?
IO And shall he quit
The throne of all
the
worlds, by a new spouse
Supplanted?
PROMETHEUS She will bear to him a
child,
And he shall be in might more excellent
Than his progenitor.
IO And he will find No way to parry
this
strong stroke of fate?
PROMETHEUS None save my own self-when
these
bonds are loosed.
IO And who shall loose them if Zeus
wills
not?
Of thine own seed.
How say'st thou? Shall a child
Of mine release
thee?
PROMETHEUS Son of thine, but son
The
thirteenth
generation shall beget.
IO A prophecy oracularly dark.
PROMETHEUS Then seek not thou to know
thine
own fate.
IO Nay, Tender me not a boon to snatch
it
from me.
PROMETHEUS Of two gifts thou hast
asked
one shall be thine.
IO What gifts? Pronounce and leave to
me
the choice.
PROMETHEUS Nay, thou are free to
choose.
Say, therefore, whether
I shall declare to thee thy future woes
Or him
who shall be my deliverer.
CHORUS Nay, but let both be granted! Unto
her
That which she chooseth, unto me my choice,
That I, too, may have
honour
from thy lips.
First unto her declare her wanderings,
And unto me him
who
shall set thee free;
'Tis that I long to know.
PROMETHEUS I will resist
No further, but to your importunacy
All things which ye-desire to learn reveal.
And, IO, first to thee I will declare
Thy far-driven wanderings; write thou my words
In the retentive tablets of thy heart.
When thou hast crossed the flood that flows between
And is the boundary of two continents,
Turn to the sun's uprising, where he treads
Printing with fiery steps
the eastern sky,
And from the roaring of the Pontic surge
Do thou pass on, until before
thee lies
The Gorgonean plain, Kisthene called,
Where dwell the gray-haired
three, the Phorcides,
Old, mumbling maids, swan-shaped, having one eye
Betwixt the three, and but a single tooth.
On them the sun with his brightbeams
ne'er glanceth
Nor moon that lamps the night. Not far from them
The sisters
three, the Gorgons, have their haunt;
Winged forms, with snaky locks, hateful
to man,
Whom nothing mortal looking on can live.
Thus much that thou may'st
have a care of these.
Now of another portent thou shalt hear.
Beware the
dogs of Zeus that ne'er give tongue,
The sharp-beaked gryphons, and the
one-eyed horde
Of Arimaspians, riding upon horses,
Who dwell around the
river rolling gold,
The ferry and the frith of Pluto's port.
Go not thou
nigh them. After thou shalt come
To a far land, a dark-skinned race, that
dwell
Beside the fountains of the sun, whence flows
The river Ethiops:
follow its banks
Until thou comest to the steep-down slope
Where from the
Bibline mountains
Nilus old Pours the sweet waters of his holy stream.
And thou, the river guiding thee, shalt come
To the three-sided, wedge-shaped
land of Nile,
Where for thyself, Io, and for thy children
Long sojourn
is appointed. If in aught
My story seems to stammer and to er
From indirectness,
ask and ask again
Till all be manifest. I do not lack
For leisure, having
more than well contents me
CHORUS If there be aught that she must
suffer
yet,
Or aught omitted in the narrative
Of her long wanderings, I pray
thee
speak.
But if thou hast told all, then grant the boon
We asked and
doubtless
thou wilt call to mind.
PROMETHEUS Nay, she has heard the last
of
her long journey.
But, as some warrant for her patient hearing
I will
relate
her former sufferings
Ere she came hither. Much I will omit
That had
detained
us else with long discourse
And touch at once her journey's thus far
goal.
When thou wast come to the Molossian plain
That lies about the high top
of Dodona,
Where is an oracle and shrine of Zeus
Thesprotian,
and-portent
past belief-
The talking oaks, the same from whom the word
Flashed
clear
and nothing questionably hailed the
The destined spouse-ah! do I touch
old wounds?-
Of Zeus, honoured above thy sex; stung thence
In torment,
where the road runs by the sea,
Thou cam'st to the broad gulf of Rhea,
whence
Beat back by a strong wind, thou didst retrace
Most painfully
thy
course; and it shall be
That times to come in memory of thy passage
Shall
call that inlet the Ionian Sea.
Thus much for thee in witness that my
mind
Beholdeth more than that which leaps to light.
Now for the things to
come;
what I shall say
Concerns ye both alike. Return we then
And follow our
old track. There is a city named
Canopus, built at the land's end,
Even
at the mouth and mounded silt of Nile,
And there shall Zeus restore to
thee thy mind
With touch benign and laying on of hands.
And from that
touch
thou shalt conceive and bear
Swarth Epaphus, touch-born; and he shall
reap
As much of earth as Nilus watereth
With his broad-flowing river. In
descent
The fifth from him there shall come back to Argos,
Thine ancient home,
but driven by hard hap,
Two score and ten maids, daughters of one
house,
Fleeing pollution of unlawful marriage
With their next kin, who winged
with wild desire,
As hawks that follow hard on cushat-doves,
Shall
harry
prey which they should not pursue
And hunt forbidden brides. But God
shall
be
Exceeding jealous for their chastity;
And old Pelasgia, for the
mortal
thrust
Of woman's hands and midnight murder done
Upon their new-wed
lords,
shall shelter them;
For every wife shall strike her husband down
Dipping
a two-edged broadsword in his blood.
Oh, that mine enemies might wed
such
wivesl
But of the fifty, one alone desire
Shall tame, as with the
stroke
of charming-wand,
So that she shall not lift her hands to slay
The
partner
of her bed; yea, melting love
Shall blunt her sharp-set will, and she
shall
choose
Rather to be called weak and womanly
Than the dark stain of
blood;
and she shall be
Mother of kings in Argos. 'Tis a tale
Were't told in
full,
would occupy us long.
For, of her sowing, there shall spring to fame
The
lion's whelp, the archer bold, whose bow
Shall set me free.
This is the
oracle Themis, my ancient Mother, Titan-born,
Disclosed to me; but how
and in what wise
Were long to tell, nor would it profit thee.
IO Again they come, again
The fury and
the
pain!
The gangrened wound! The ache of pulses dinned
With raging throes
It beats upon my brain-the burning wind
That madness blows!
It
pricks-the
barb, the hook not forged with heat,
The gadfly dart!
Against my ribs
with
thud of trampling feet
Hammers my heart!
And like a bowling wheel mine
eyeballs spin,
And I am flung
By fierce winds from my course, nor can
rein
in
My frantic tongue
That raves I know not what!-a random tide
Of
words-a
froth
Of muddied waters buffeting the wide,
High-crested, hateful wave
of ruin and God's wrath!
Exit raving.
CHORUS I hold him wise who first in
his
own mind
This canon fixed and taught it to mankind:
True marriage is
the
union that mates
Equal with equal; not where wealth emasculates,
Or
mighty
lineage is magnified,
Should he who earns his bread look for a bride.
Therefore,
grave mistresses of fate, I pray
That I may never live to see the day
When
Zeus takes me for his bedfellow; or
Draw near in love to husband from
on
high.
For I am full of fear when I behold Io, the maid no human love
may
fold,
And her virginity disconsolate,
Homeless and husbandless by
Hera's
hate.
For me, when love is level, fear is far. May none of all the
Gods
that greater are Eve me with his unshunnable regard;
For in that
warfare
victory is hard,
And of that plenty cometh emptiness.
What should
befall
me then I dare not guess;
Nor whither I should flee that I might shun
The
craft and subtlety of Cronos' Son.
PROMETHEUS I tell thee that the
self-willed
pride of Zeus
Shall surely be abased; that even now
He plots a marriage
that shall hurl him forth
Far out of sight of his imperial throne
And
kingly
dignity. Then, in that hour,
Shall be fulfilled, nor in one tittle
fail,
The curse wherewith his father Cronos cursed him,
What time he fell
from
his majestic place
Established from of old. And such a stroke
None of
the
Gods save me could turn aside.
I know these things shall be and on what
wise.
Therefore let him secure him in his seat,
And put his trust in
airy
noise, and swing
His bright, two-handed, blazing thunderbolt,
For these
shall nothing stead him, nor avert
Fall insupportable and glory
humbled.
A wrestler of such might he maketh ready
For his own ruin; yea, a
wonder,
strong
In strength unmatchable; and he shall find
Fire that shall set
at
naught the burning bolt
And blasts more dreadful that o'er-crow the
thunder.
The pestilence that scourgeth the deep seas
And shaketh solid earth,
the
three-pronged mace,
Poseidon's spear, a mightier shall scatter;
And
when
he stumbleth striking there his foot,
Fallen on evil days, the tyrant's
pride
Shall measure all the miserable length
That parts rule absolute
from
servitude.
CHORUS Methinks the wish is father to
the
thought
And whets thy railing tongue.
PROMETHEUS Not so: the wish
And the
accomplishment
go hand in hand.
CHORUS Then must we look for one who
shall
supplant
And reign instead of Zeus? Far, far more grievous shall bow
down
his neck.
CHORUS Hast thou no fear venting such
blasphemy?
PROMETHEUS What should I fear who have
no
part nor lot
In doom of dying?
CHORUS But he might afflict the
With
agony
more dreadful, pain beyond
These pains.
PROMETHEUS Why let him if he will
All
evils
I foreknow.
CHORUS Ah, they are wise
Who do
obeisance,
prostrate in the dust,
To the implacable, eternal Will.
PROMETHEUS Go thou and worship; fold
thy
hands in prayer,
And be the dog that licks the foot of power!
Nothing
care
I for Zeus; yea, less than naught!
Let him do what he will, and sway
the
world
His little hour; he has not long to lord it
Among the Gods. Oh
here
here runner comes
The upstart tyrant's lacquey! He'll bring news,
A
message,
never doubt it, from his master.
Enter HERMES.
HERMES You, the sophistical rogue, the heart of gall,
The renegade
of heaven, to short-lived men
Purveyor of prerogatives and tities,
Fire-thief!
Dost hear me? I've a word for thee.
Thou'rt to declare-this is the
Father's
pleasure
These marriage-feasts of thine, whereof thy tongue
Rattles
a-pace,
and by the which his greatness
Shall take a fall. And look you rede no
riddles,
But tell the truth, in each particular
Exact. I am not to
sweat
for thee, Prometheus,
Upon a double journey.
And thou seest Zeus by thy
dark defiance is not moved.
PROMETHEUS A very solemn piece of
insolence
Spoken like an underling of the Gods!
Ye are young! Ye are young! New
come
to power
And ye suppose
Your towered citadel Calamity
Can never enter!
Ah, and have not
Seen from those pinnacles a two-fold fall
Of tyrants?
And the third, who his brief "now"
Of lordship arrogates, I shall see
yet
By lapse most swift' most ignominious,
Sink to perdition. And dost thou
suppose
I crouch and cower in reverence and awe
To Gods of yesterday? I
fail of that
So much, the total all of space and time
Bulks in between.
Take thyself hence and count
Thy toiling steps back by the way thou
camest,
In nothing wiser for thy questionings.
HERMES This is that former
stubbornness
of thine
That brought thee hither to foul anchorage.
PROMETHEUS Mistake me not; I would
not,
if I might,
Change my misfortunes for thy vassalage.
HERMES Oh! better be the vassal of
this
rock
Than born the trusty messenger of Zeus
PROMETHEUS I answer insolence, as it
deserves,
With insolence. How else should it be answered?
HERMES Surely; and, being in trouble,
it
is plain
You revel in your plight.
PROMETHEUS Revel, forsooth! I would my
enemies
might hold such revels
And thou amongst the first.
HERMES Dost thou blame me
For thy
misfortunes?
PROMETHEUS I hate all the Gods,
Because,
having received good at my hands,
They have rewarded me with evil.
Proves
thee stark mad!
HERMES This proves thee stark mad!
PROMETHEUS Mad as you please, if
hating
Your enemies is madness
HERMES Were all well With thee,
thou'dst
be insufferable!
PROMETHEUS Alas!
HERMES Alas, that Zeus knows not that
word,
Alas!
PROMETHEUS But ageing Time teacheth
all
knowledge.
HERMES Time
Hath not yet taught thy
rash,
imperious will
Over wild impulse to win mastery.
PROMETHEUS Nay: had
Time taught me
that,
I had not stooped
To bandy words with such a slave as thou.
HERMES This, then, is all thine
answer:
thou'lt not
One syllable of what our Father asks.
PROMETHEUS Oh, that I were a debtor to
his
kindness!
I would requite him to the uttermost!
HERMES A cutting speech! You take me
for
a boy
Whom you may taunt and tease.
PROMETHEUS Why art thou not
A boy-a
very
booby-to suppose
Thou wilt get aught from me? There is no wrong
However
shameful, nor no shift of malice
Whereby Zeus shall persuade me to
unlock
My lips until these shackles be cast loose.
Therefore let lightning
leap
with smoke and flame,
And all that is be beat and tossed together,
With
whirl of feathery snowflakes and loud crack
Of subterranean thunder;
none
of these
Shall bend my will or force me to disclose
By whom 'tis fated
he shall fall from power.
HERMES What good can come of this?
Think
yet again!
PROMETHEUS I long ago have thought and
long
ago
Determined.
HERMES Patience! patience! thou rash
fool
Have so much patience as to school thy mind
To a right judgment in thy
present troubles.
PROMETHEUS Lo, I am rockfast, and thy
words
are wave
That weary me in vain. Let not the thought
Enter thy mind,
that
I in awe of Zeus
Shall change my nature for a girl's, or beg
The
Loathed
beyond all loathing-with my hands
Spread out in woman's fashion-to cast
loose
These bonds; from that I am utterly removed.
HERMES I have talked much, yet
further not
my purpose;
For thou art in no whit melted or moved
By my prolonged entreaties: like a colt
New to the harness thou dost back and
Plunge. Snap at thy bit and fight against the rein.
And yet thy confidence is in a straw;
For stubbornness, if one be in the wrong,
Is in itself weaker than
naught at all.
See now, if thou wilt not obey my words,
What storm,
what
triple-crested wave of woe
Unshunnable shall come upon thee. First,
This
rocky chasm shall the Father split
With earthquake thunder and his
burning
bolt,
And he shall hide thy form, and thou shalt hang
Bolt upright,
dandled
in the rock's rude arms.
Nor till thou hast completed thy long term
Shalt
thou come back into the light; and then
The hound of Zeus, the tawny
eagle,
Shall violently fall upon thy flesh
And rend it as 'twere rags; and
every
day
And all day long shall thine unbidden guest
Sit at thy table,
feasting
on thy liver
Till he hath gnawn it black. Look for no term
To such an
agony
till there stand forth
Among the Gods one who shall take upon him
Thy
sufferings
and consent to enter hell
Far from the light of Sun, yea, the deep pit
And mirk of Tartarus, for thee. Be advised;
This is not stuffed speech
framed to frighten the
But woeful truth. For Zeus knows not to lie
CHORUS To our mind
The words of Hermes fail
not of the mark.
For he enjoins thee to let self-will go
And follow
after
prudent counsels.
Him Harken; for error in the wise is shame.
PROMETHEUS These are stale tidings I
foreknew;
Therefore, since suffering is the due
A foe must pay his foes, Let
curled
lightnings clasp and clash
And close upon my limbs: loud crash
The
thunder,
and fierce throes
Of savage winds convulse calm air:
The embowelled
blast
earth's roots uptear
And toss beyond its bars,
The rough surge, till
the
roaring deep
In one devouring deluge sweep
The pathway of the stars
Finally,
let him fling my form
Down whirling gulfs, the central storm
Of being;
let me lie Plunged in the black
Tartarean gloom;
Yet-yet-his sentence
shall
not doom
This deathless self to die!
HERMES These are the workings of a
brain
More than a little touched; the vein
Of voluble ecstasy! Surely he
wandereth
from the way,
His reason lost, who thus can pray
A mouthing mad man he!
Therefore,
O ye who court his fate,
Rash mourners-ere it be too late
And
ye indeed are sad
For vengeance spurring hither fast-
Hence! lest the
bellowing
thunderblast
Like him should strike you mad.
CHORUS Words which might work
persuasion
speak
If thou must counsel me; nor seek
Thus, like a stream in spate,
To uproot mine honour. Dost thou dare
Urge me to baseness! I will bear
With him all blows of fate;
For false forsakers I despise;
At treachery my gorge doth rise: I spew it forth with hate!
HERMES Only-with ruin on your track-
Rail not at fortune; but look back
And these my words recall;
Neither blame Zeus that he hath sent
Sorrow no warning word forewent!
Ye labour for your fall
With your own hands I
Not by surprise
Nor yet by stealth, but with clear eyes,
Knowing the thing ye do,
Ye walk into the yawning net
That for the feet of is set
And Ruin spreads for you.
Exit.
PROMETHEUS The time is past for words;
earth
quakes
Sensibly: hark! pent thunder rakes
The depths, with bellowing din
Of echoes rolling ever nigher:
Lightnings shake out their locks of fire;
The dust cones dance and spin;
The skipping winds, as if possessed
By faction-north, south, east and west,
Puff at each other; sea
And sky are shook together:
Lo The swing and fury of the blow
Wherewith Zeus smiteth me
Sweepeth apace, and, visibly,
To strike my heart with fear.
See, see, Earth, awful Mother! Air,
That shedd'st from the revolving sky
On all the light they see thee by,
What bitter wrongs I bear!
The scene closes with earthquake and thunder, in the midst of
which
Prometheus and the
Daughters of Oceanus sink into the abyss.
FINIS
Karl Marx as "The Literary Prometheus"
after the censoring of his newpaper.
Copyright statement: Text from The Internet Classics Archive by Daniel C.
Stevenson,
classics@classics.mit.edu.
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