SCENE.—SKYTHIA, _on the heights of Caucasos. The Euxine
seen in the distance_
_Enter_ HEPHÆSTOS, STRENGTH, _and_ FORCE, _leading_
PROMETHEUS _in chains_[136]
_Strength._ Lo! to a plain, earth's boundary remote,
We now are come,—the tract as Skythian known,
A desert inaccessible: and now,
Hephæstos, it is thine to do the hests
The Father gave thee, to these lofty crags
To bind this crafty trickster fast in chains
Of adamantine bonds that none can break;
For he thy choice flower stealing, the bright glory
Of fire that all arts spring from, hath bestowed it
On mortal men. And so for fault like this
He now must pay the Gods due penalty,
That he may learn to bear the sovereign rule 10
Of Zeus, and cease from his philanthropy.
_Heph._ O Strength, and thou, O Force, the hest of Zeus,
As far as touches you, attains its end,
And nothing hinders. Yet my courage fails
To bind a God of mine own kin by force
To this bare rock where tempests wildly sweep;
And yet I needs must muster courage for it:
'Tis no slight thing the Father's words to scorn.
O thou of Themis [_to_ PROMETHEUS] wise in counsel son,
Full deep of purpose, lo! against my will,[137]
I fetter thee against thy will with bonds
Of bronze that none can loose, to this lone height, 20
Where thou shalt know nor voice nor face of man,
But scorching in the hot blaze of the sun,
Shalt lose thy skin's fair beauty. Thou shalt long
For starry-mantled night to hide day's sheen,
For sun to melt the rime of early dawn;
And evermore the weight of present ill
Shall wear thee down. Unborn as yet is he
Who shall release thee: this the fate thou gain'st
As due reward for thy philanthropy.
For thou, a God not fearing wrath of Gods,
In thy transgression gav'st their power to men; 30
And therefore on this rock of little ease
Thou still shalt keep thy watch, nor lying down,
Nor knowing sleep, nor ever bending knee;
And many groans and wailings profitless
Thy lips shall utter; for the mind of Zeus
Remains inexorable. Who holds a power
But newly gained[138] is ever stern of mood.
_Strength._ Let be! Why linger in this idle pity?
Why dost not hate a God to Gods a foe,
Who gave thy choicest prize to mortal men?
_Heph._ Strange is the power of kin and intercourse.[139]
_Strength._ I own it; yet to slight the Father's words, 40
How may that be? Is not that fear the worse?
_Heph._ Still art thou ruthless, full of savagery.
_Strength._ There is no help in weeping over him:
Spend not thy toil on things that profit not.
_Heph._ O handicraft to me intolerable!
_Strength._ Why loath'st thou it? Of these thy present griefs
That craft of thine is not one whit the cause.
_Heph._ And yet I would some other had that skill.
_Strength._ *All things bring toil except for Gods to reign;[140]
For none but Zeus can boast of freedom true. 50
_Heph._ Too well I see the proof, and gainsay not.
_Strength._ Wilt thou not speed to fix the chains on him,
Lest He, the Father, see thee loitering here?
_Heph._ Well, here the handcuffs thou may'st see prepared.
_Strength._ In thine hands take him. Then with all thy might
Strike with thine hammer; nail him to the rocks.
_Heph._ The work goes on, I ween, and not in vain.
_Strength._ Strike harder, rivet, give no whit of ease:
A wondrous knack has he to find resource,
Even where all might seem to baffle him.
_Heph._ Lo! this his arm is fixed inextricably. 60
_Strength._ Now rivet thou this other fast, that he
May learn, though sharp, that he than Zeus is duller.
_Heph._ No one but he could justly blame my work.
_Strength._ Now drive the stern jaw of the adamant wedge
Right through his chest with all the strength thou hast.
_Heph._ Ah me! Prometheus, for thy woes I groan.
_Strength._ Again, thou'rt loth, and for the foes of Zeus
Thou groanest: take good heed to it lest thou
Ere long with cause thyself commiserate.
_Heph._ Thou see'st a sight unsightly to our eyes.
_Strength._ I see this man obtaining his deserts: 70
Nay, cast thy breast-chains round about his ribs.
_Heph._ I must needs do it. Spare thine o'er much bidding;
Go thou below and rivet both his legs.[141]
_Strength._ Nay, I will bid thee, urge thee to thy work.
_Heph._ There, it is done, and that with no long toil.
_Strength._ Now with thy full power fix the galling fetters:
Thou hast a stern o'erlooker of thy work.
_Heph._ Thy tongue but utters words that match thy form.[142]
_Strength._ Choose thou the melting mood; but chide not me
For my self-will and wrath and ruthlessness. 80
_Heph._ Now let us go, his limbs are bound in chains.
_Strength._ Here then wax proud, and stealing what belongs
To the Gods, to mortals give it. What can they
Avail to rescue thee from these thy woes?
Falsely the Gods have given thee thy name,
Prometheus, Forethought; forethought thou dost need
To free thyself from this rare handiwork.
[_Exeunt_ HEPHÆSTOS, STRENGTH, _and_ FORCE,
_leaving_ PROMETHEUS _on the rock_
_Prom._[143] Thou firmament of God, and swift-winged winds,
Ye springs of rivers, and of ocean waves
That smile innumerous! Mother of us all, 90
O Earth, and Sun's all-seeing eye, behold,
I pray, what I a God from Gods endure.
Behold in what foul case
I for ten thousand years
Shall struggle in my woe,
In these unseemly chains.
Such doom the new-made Monarch of the Blest
Hath now devised for me.
Woe, woe! The present and the oncoming pang
I wail, as I search out
The place and hour when end of all these ills
Shall dawn on me at last. 100
What say I? All too clearly I foresee
The things that come, and nought of pain shall be
By me unlooked-for; but I needs must bear
My destiny as best I may, knowing well
The might resistless of Necessity.
And neither may I speak of this my fate,
Nor hold my peace. For I, poor I, through giving
Great gifts to mortal men, am prisoner made
In these fast fetters; yea, in fennel stalk[144]
I snatched the hidden spring of stolen fire,
Which is to men a teacher of all arts, 110
Their chief resource. And now this penalty
Of that offence I pay, fast riveted
In chains beneath the open firmament.
Ha! ha! What now?
What sound, what odour floats invisibly?[145]
Is it of God or man, or blending both?
And has one come to the remotest rock
To look upon my woes? Or what wills he?
Behold me bound, a God to evil doomed,
The foe of Zeus, and held
In hatred by all Gods 120
Who tread the courts of Zeus:
And this for my great love,
Too great, for mortal men.
Ah me! what rustling sounds
Hear I of birds not far?
With the light whirr of wings
The air re-echoeth:
All that draws nigh to me is cause of fear.[146]
_Enter Chorus of_ Ocean Nymphs, _with wings,
floating in the air_[147]
_Chor._ Nay, fear thou nought: in love
All our array of wings
In eager race hath come 130
To this high peak, full hardly gaining o'er
Our Father's mind and will;
And the swift-rushing breezes bore me on:
For lo! the echoing sound of blows on iron
Pierced to our cave's recess, and put to flight
My shamefast modesty,
And I in unshod haste, on winged car,
To thee rushed hitherward.
_Prom._ Ah me! ah me!
Offspring of Tethys blest with many a child, 140
Daughters of Old Okeanos that rolls
Round all the earth with never-sleeping stream,
Behold ye me, and see
With what chains fettered fast,
I on the topmost crags of this ravine
Shall keep my sentry-post unenviable.
_Chor._ I see it, O Prometheus, and a mist
Of fear and full of tears comes o'er mine eyes,
Thy frame beholding thus,
Writhing on these high rocks 150
In adamantine ills.
New pilots now o'er high Olympos rule,
And with new-fashioned laws
Zeus reigns, down-trampling right,
And all the ancient powers He sweeps away.
_Prom._ Ah! would that 'neath the Earth, 'neath Hades too,
Home of the dead, far down to Tartaros 160
Unfathomable He in fetters fast
In wrath had hurled me down:
So neither had a God
Nor any other mocked at these my woes;
But now, the wretched plaything of the winds,
I suffer ills at which my foes rejoice.
_Chor._ Nay, which of all the Gods
Is so hard-hearted as to joy in this?
Who, Zeus excepted, doth not pity thee
In these thine ills? But He,
Ruthless, with soul unbent,
Subdues the heavenly host, nor will He cease[148] 170
Until his heart be satiate with power,
Or some one seize with subtle stratagem
The sovran might that so resistless seemed.
_Prom._ Nay, of a truth, though put to evil shame,
In massive fetters bound,
The Ruler of the Gods
Shall yet have need of me, yes, e'en of me,
To tell the counsel new
That seeks to strip from him
His sceptre and his might of sovereignty.
In vain will He with words
Or suasion's honeyed charms 180
Soothe me, nor will I tell
Through fear of his stern threats,
Ere He shall set me free
From these my bonds, and make,
Of his own choice, amends
For all these outrages.
_Chor._ Full rash art thou, and yield'st
In not a jot to bitterest form of woe;
Thou art o'er-free and reckless in thy speech:
But piercing fear hath stirred
My inmost soul to strife;
For I fear greatly touching thy distress,
As to what haven of these woes of thine 190
Thou now must steer: the son of Cronos hath
A stubborn mood and heart inexorable.
_Prom._ I know that Zeus is hard,
And keeps the Right supremely to himself;
But then, I trow, He'll be
Full pliant in his will,
When He is thus crushed down.
Then, calming down his mood
Of hard and bitter wrath,
He'll hasten unto me,
As I to him shall haste, 200
For friendship and for peace.
_Chor._ Hide it not from us, tell us all the tale:
For what offence Zeus, having seized thee thus,
So wantonly and bitterly insults thee:
If the tale hurt thee not, inform thou us.
_Prom._ Painful are these things to me e'en to speak:
Painful is silence; everywhere is woe.
For when the high Gods fell on mood of wrath,
And hot debate of mutual strife was stirred,
Some wishing to hurl Cronos from his throne,
That Zeus, forsooth, might reign; while others strove,
Eager that Zeus might never rule the Gods: 210
Then I, full strongly seeking to persuade
The Titans, yea, the sons of Heaven and Earth,
Failed of my purpose. Scorning subtle arts,
With counsels violent, they thought that they
By force would gain full easy mastery.
But then not once or twice my mother Themis
And Earth, one form though bearing many names,[149]
Had prophesied the future, how 'twould run,
That not by strength nor yet by violence, 220
But guile, should those who prospered gain the day.
And when in my words I this counsel gave,
They deigned not e'en to glance at it at all.
And then of all that offered, it seemed best
To join my mother, and of mine own will,
Not against his will, take my side with Zeus,
And by my counsels, mine, the dark deep pit
Of Tartaros the ancient Cronos holds,
Himself and his allies. Thus profiting
By me, the mighty ruler of the Gods 230
Repays me with these evil penalties:
For somehow this disease in sovereignty
Inheres, of never trusting to one's friends.[150]
And since ye ask me under what pretence
He thus maltreats me, I will show it you:
For soon as He upon his father's throne
Had sat secure, forthwith to divers Gods
He divers gifts distributed, and his realm
Began to order. But of mortal men
He took no heed, but purposed utterly 240
To crush their race and plant another new;
And, I excepted, none dared cross his will;
But I did dare, and mortal men I freed
From passing on to Hades thunder-stricken;
And therefore am I bound beneath these woes,
Dreadful to suffer, pitiable to see:
And I, who in my pity thought of men
More than myself, have not been worthy deemed
To gain like favour, but all ruthlessly
I thus am chained, foul shame this sight to Zeus.
_Chor._ Iron-hearted must he be and made of rock 250
Who is not moved, Prometheus, by thy woes:
Fain could I wish I ne'er had seen such things,
And, seeing them, am wounded to the heart.
_Prom._ Yea, I am piteous for my friends to see.
_Chor._ Did'st thou not go to farther lengths than this?
_Prom._ I made men cease from contemplating death.[151]
_Chor._ What medicine did'st thou find for that disease?
_Prom._ Blind hopes I gave to live and dwell with them.
_Chor._ Great service that thou did'st for mortal men!
_Prom._ And more than that, I gave them fire, yes I. 260
_Chor._ Do short-lived men the flaming fire possess?
_Prom._ Yea, and full many an art they'll learn from it.
_Chor._ And is it then on charges such as these
That Zeus maltreats thee, and no respite gives
Of many woes? And has thy pain no end?
_Prom._ End there is none, except as pleases Him.
_Chor._ How shall it please? What hope hast thou? See'st not
That thou hast sinned? Yet to say how thou sinned'st
Gives me no pleasure, and is pain to thee.
Well! let us leave these things, and, if we may,
Seek out some means to 'scape from this thy woe. 270
_Prom._ 'Tis a light thing for one who has his foot
Beyond the reach of evil to exhort
And counsel him who suffers. This to me
Was all well known. Yea, willing, willingly
I sinned, nor will deny it. Helping men,
I for myself found trouble: yet I thought not
That I with such dread penalties as these
Should wither here on these high-towering crags,
Lighting on this lone hill and neighbourless.
Wherefore wail not for these my present woes,
But, drawing nigh, my coming fortunes hear, 280
That ye may learn the whole tale to the end.
Nay, hearken, hearken; show your sympathy
With him who suffers now. 'Tis thus that woe,
Wandering, now falls on this one, now on that.
_Chor._ Not to unwilling hearers hast thou uttered,
Prometheus, thy request,
And now with nimble foot abounding
My swiftly rushing car,
And the pure æther, path of birds of heaven, 290
I will draw near this rough and rocky land,
For much do I desire
To hear this tale, full measure, of thy woes.
_Enter_ OKEANOS, _on a car drawn by a winged gryphon_
_Okean._ Lo, I come to thee, Prometheus,
Reaching goal of distant journey,[152]
Guiding this my winged courser
By my will, without a bridle;
And thy sorrows move my pity.
Force, in part, I deem, of kindred
Leads me on, nor know I any,
Whom, apart from kin, I honour 300
More than thee, in fuller measure.
This thou shall own true and earnest:
I deal not in glozing speeches.
Come then, tell me how to help thee;
Ne'er shalt thou say that one more friendly
Is found than unto thee is Okean.
_Prom._ Let be. What boots it? Thou then too art come
To gaze upon my sufferings. How did'st dare
Leaving the stream that bears thy name, and caves
Hewn in the living rock, this land to visit,
Mother of iron? What then, art thou come
To gaze upon my fall and offer pity? 310
Behold this sight: see here the friend of Zeus,
Who helped to seat him in his sovereignty,
With what foul outrage I am crushed by him!
_Okean._ I see, Prometheus, and I wish to give thee
My best advice, all subtle though thou be.
Know thou thyself,[153] and fit thy soul to moods
To thee full new. New king the Gods have now;
But if thou utter words thus rough and sharp,
Perchance, though sitting far away on high, 320
Zeus yet may hear thee, and his present wrath
Seem to thee but as child's play of distress.
Nay, thou poor sufferer, quit the rage thou hast,
And seek a remedy for these thine ills.
A tale thrice-told, perchance I seem to speak:
Lo! this, Prometheus, is the punishment
Of thine o'er lofty speech, nor art thou yet
Humbled, nor yieldest to thy miseries,
And fain would'st add fresh evils unto these.
But thou, if thou wilt take me as thy teacher, 330
Wilt not kick out against the pricks;[154] seeing well
A monarch reigns who gives account to none.
And now I go, and will an effort make,
If I, perchance, may free thee from thy woes;
Be still then, hush thy petulance of speech,
Or knowest thou not, o'er-clever as thou art,
That idle tongues must still their forfeit pay?
_Prom._ I envy thee, seeing thou art free from blame
Though thou shared'st all, and in my cause wast bold;[155]
Nay, let me be, nor trouble thou thyself; 340
Thou wilt not, canst not soothe Him; very hard
Is He of soothing. Look to it thyself,
Lest thou some mischief meet with in the way.
_Okean._ It is thy wont thy neighbours' minds to school
Far better than thine own. From deeds, not words,
I draw my proof. But do not draw me back
When I am hasting on, for lo, I deem,
I deem that Zeus will grant this boon to me,
That I should free thee from these woes of thine.
_Prom._ I thank thee much, yea, ne'er will cease to thank;
For thou no whit of zeal dost lack; yet take,
I pray, no trouble for me; all in vain
Thy trouble, nothing helping, e'en if thou 350
Should'st care to take the trouble. Nay, be still;
Keep out of harm's way; sufferer though I be,
I would not therefore wish to give my woes
A wider range o'er others. No, not so:
For lo! my mind is wearied with the grief
Of that my kinsman Atlas,[156] who doth stand
In the far West, supporting on his shoulders
The pillars of the earth and heaven, a burden
His arms can ill but hold: I pity too
The giant dweller of Kilikian caves, 360
Dread portent, with his hundred hands, subdued
By force, the mighty Typhon,[157] who arose
'Gainst all the Gods, with sharp and dreadful jaws
Hissing out slaughter, and from out his eyes
There flashed the terrible brightness as of one
Who would lay low the sovereignty of Zeus.
But the unsleeping dart of Zeus came on him,
Down-swooping thunderbolt that breathes out flame,
Which from his lofty boastings startled him,
For he i' the heart was struck, to ashes burnt, 370
His strength all thunder-shattered; and he lies
A helpless, powerless carcase, near the strait
Of the great sea, fast pressed beneath the roots
Of ancient Ætna, where on highest peak
Hephæstos sits and smites his iron red-hot,
From whence hereafter streams of fire shall burst,[158]
Devouring with fierce jaws the golden plains
Of fruitful, fair Sikelia. Such the wrath
That Typhon shall belch forth with bursts of storm,
Hot, breathing fire, and unapproachable,
Though burnt and charred by thunderbolts of Zeus. 380
Not inexperienced art thou, nor dost need
My teaching: save thyself, as thou know'st how;
And I will drink my fortune to the dregs,
Till from his wrath the mind of Zeus shall rest.[159]
_Okean._ Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, even this,
Of wrath's disease wise words the healers are?
_Prom._ Yea, could one soothe the troubled heart in time,
Nor seek by force to tame the soul's proud flesh.
_Okean._ But in due forethought with bold daring blent,
What mischief see'st thou lurking? Tell me this. 390
_Prom._ Toil bootless, and simplicity full fond.
_Okean._ Let me, I pray, that sickness suffer, since
'Tis best being wise to have not wisdom's show.
_Prom._ Nay, but this error shall be deemed as mine.
_Okean._ Thy word then clearly sends me home at once.
_Prom._ Yea, lest thy pity for me make a foe....
_Okean._ What! of that new king on his mighty throne?
_Prom._ Look to it, lest his heart be vexed with thee.
_Okean._ Thy fate, Prometheus, teaches me that lesson.
_Prom._ Away, withdraw! keep thou the mind thou hast. 400
_Okean._ Thou urgest me who am in act to haste;
For this my bird four-footed flaps with wings
The clear path of the æther; and full fain
Would he bend knee in his own stall at home. [_Exit_.