Nor was crime long in making its appearance. Hyacon, King of Arcadia,
violated all the laws of hospitality by the massacre of his guests. He had
the cruelty to offer up to Jupiter, in one of the high festivals, the
members of a slave, as an offering to the God. But his punishment was as
swift as his conduct had been atrocious: his palace was reduced to ashes,
and his form was changed into that of a wolf. From this Jupiter took the
name which denotes him an avenger of the laws of hospitality.
Jupiter is also distinguished by the name of Ammon from the following
circumstance:
Bacchus being in the midst of the sands of Arabia, was seized with a thirst
so burning, that he was reduced to long even for a drop of water. Jupiter
presented himself to him under the form of a battering-ram, and striking
the earth, caused the grateful liquid to spring forth in abundance.
Bacchus, to commemorate the deed, erected a temple to his benefactor in the
deserts of Lybia, under the name of Jupiter Ammon, i. e.--sandy.
By this time mankind had owed their creation to the King of the Gods.
Prometheus, grand-son of Uranus, having deceived Jupiter, he was punished
by being withheld from the element of fire; and to enrage his sovereign, he
formed a being of clay, of workmanship so exquisite, that it scarcely
seemed to need life to add to its beauty, and to complete his performance,
assisted {19} by Minerva, he stole fire from the chariot of the sun,
wherewith to animate his image.
[Illustration]
Enraged at this daring, Jupiter had him conveyed to Mount Caucasus, where
being chained to the rock, a vulture preyed upon his entrails, which grew
as fast as they were devoured, thus subjecting him to a never dying
torture.
------------------"Awful sufferer!
To thee unwilling, most unwillingly
I come, by the great Father's will driven down,
To execute a doom of new revenge.
Alas! I pity thee, and hate myself,
That I can do no more: aye from thy sight
Returning, for a season, heaven seems hell,
So thy worn form pursues me night and day,
Smiling reproach. Wise art thou, firm and good,
But vainly wouldst stand forth alone in strife
Against the Omnipotent: as yon clear lamps,
That measure and divide the weary years
From which there is no refuge, long have taught
And long must teach. Even now the Torturer arms
With the strange might of unimagined pains
The powers who scheme slow agonies in hell;
And my commission is to lead them here,
Or what more subtle, foul, or savage fiends
People the abyss, and leave them to their task.
Oh that we might be spared: I to inflict,
And thou to suffer! once more answer me:
Thou knowest not the period of Jove's power?
_Prometheus._ I know but this, that it must come.
_First Fury._ Prometheus!
_Second Fury._ Immortal Titan!
_Third Fury._ Champion of Heaven's slaves!
_Pro._ He whom some dreadful voice invokes is here,
Prometheus, the chained Titan. Horrible forms,
Whence and what are ye? Never yet there came
{20}
Phantasms so foul thro' monster-teeming hell,
From the all miscreative brain of Jove;
Whilst I behold such execrable shapes,
Methinks I grow like what I contemplate,
And laugh and stare in loathsome sympathy.
_First Fury._ We are ministers of pain, and fear,
And disappointment, and mistrust, and hate,
And clinging crime; and, as lean dogs pursue
Thro' wood and lake some struck and sobbing fawn,
We track all things that weep, and bleed, and live,
When the great king betrays them to our will.
_Pro._ Oh! many fearful natures in one name,
I know ye; and these lakes and echoes know
The darkness and the clangour of your wings.
But why more hideous than your loathed selves
Gather ye up in legions from the deep!
_Second Fury._ We knew not that: Sisters, rejoice! rejoice!
_Pro._ Can aught exult in its deformity?
_Second Fury._ The beauty of delight makes lovers glad,
Gazing on one another: so are we,
As from the rose which the pale priestess kneels
To gather for a festal crown of flowers,
The aerial crimson falls, flushing her cheek,
So from our victim's destined agony,
The shade which is our form invests us round;
Else we are shapeless as our mother night.
_Pro._ I laugh your power, and his who sent you here,
To lowest scorn. Pour forth the cup of pain.
_First Fury._ Thou thinkest we will rend thee bone from bone,
And nerve from nerve, working like fire within!
_Pro._ Pain is my element, as hate is thine;
Ye rend me now; I care not.
_Second Fury._ Dost imagine
We will but laugh into thy lidless eyes?
_Pro._ I weigh not what ye do, but what ye suffer,
Being evil. Cruel is the power which called
You, or aught else so wretched into light!
_Third Fury._ Thou think'st we will live through thee one by one,
Like animal life, and though we can obscure not
The soul which burns within, that we will dwell
Beside it, like a vain, loud multitude,
Vexing the self-content of wisest men:
That we will be dread thought beneath thy brain,
And foul desire round thine astonished heart,
And blood within thy labyrinthine veins,
Crawling like agony.
_Pro._ Why use me thus now,
Yet am I king over my self's rule,
The torturing and conflicting throes within,
As Jove rules you when hell grows mutinous."