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 Apportioneth 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 PROMETHEUSOf 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 horned.
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 ICan'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-In 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