Chapter VI: Part II: Page (4)

_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_.

STROPHE I

_Chor._ I grieve, Prometheus, for thy dreary fate,
Shedding from tender eyes
The dew of plenteous tears;
With streams, as when the watery south wind blows,
My cheek is wet; 410
For lo! these things are all unenviable,
And Zeus, by his own laws his sway maintaining,
Shows to the elder Gods
A mood of haughtiness.

ANTISTROPHE I

And all the country echoeth with the moan,
And poureth many a tear
For that magnific power
Of ancient days far-seen that thou did'st share
With those of one blood sprung;
And all the mortal men who hold the plain 420
Of holy Asia as their land of sojourn,
They grieve in sympathy
For thy woes lamentable.

STROPHE II

And they, the maiden band who find their home
On distant Colchian coasts,
Fearless of fight,[160]
Or Skythian horde in earth's remotest clime,
By far Mæotic lake;[161]

ANTISTROPHE II

*And warlike glory of Arabia's tribes,[162]
Who nigh to Caucasos 430
In rock-fort dwell,
An army fearful, with sharp-pointed spear
Raging in war's array.

STROPHE III

One other Titan only have I seen,
One other of the Gods,
Thus bound in woes of adamantine strength—
Atlas, who ever groans
Beneath the burden of a crushing might,
The out-spread vault of heaven.

ANTISTROPHE III

And lo! the ocean billows murmur loud 440
In one accord with him;[163]
The sea-depths groan, and Hades' swarthy pit
Re-echoeth the sound,
And fountains of clear rivers, as they flow,
Bewail his bitter griefs.

_Prom._ Think not it is through pride or stiff self-will That I am silent. But my heart is worn, Self-contemplating, as I see myself Thus outraged. Yet what other hand than mine Gave these young Gods in fulness all their gifts? But these I speak not of; for I should tell To you that know them. But those woes of men,[164] 450 List ye to them,—how they, before as babes, By me were roused to reason, taught to think; And this I say, not finding fault with men, But showing my good-will in all I gave. For first, though seeing, all in vain they saw, And hearing, heard not rightly. But, like forms Of phantom-dreams, throughout their life's whole length They muddled all at random; did not know Houses of brick that catch the sunlight's warmth, Nor yet the work of carpentry. They dwelt In hollowed holes, like swarms of tiny ants, 460 In sunless depths of caverns; and they had No certain signs of winter, nor of spring Flower-laden, nor of summer with her fruits; But without counsel fared their whole life long, Until I showed the risings of the stars, And settings hard to recognise.[165] And I Found Number for them, chief device of all, *Groupings of letters, Memory's handmaid that, And mother of the Muses.[166] And I first Bound in the yoke wild steeds, submissive made 470 Or to the collar or men's limbs, that so They might in man's place bear his greatest toils; And horses trained to love the rein I yoked To chariots, glory of wealth's pride of state;[167] Nor was it any one but I that found Sea-crossing, canvas-wingèd cars of ships: Such rare designs inventing (wretched me!) For mortal men, I yet have no device By which to free myself from this my woe.[168]

_Chor._ Foul shame thou sufferest: of thy sense bereaved, 480 Thou errest greatly: and, like leech unskilled, Thou losest heart when smitten with disease, And know'st not how to find the remedies Wherewith to heal thine own soul's sicknesses.

_Prom._ Hearing what yet remains thou'lt wonder more, What arts and what resources I devised: And this the chief: if any one fell ill, There was no help for him, nor healing food, Nor unguent, nor yet potion; but for want Of drugs they wasted, till I showed to them The blendings of all mild medicaments,[169] 490 Wherewith they ward the attacks of sickness sore. I gave them many modes of prophecy;[170] And I first taught them what dreams needs must prove True visions, and made known the ominous sounds Full hard to know; and tokens by the way, And flights of taloned birds I clearly marked,— Those on the right propitious to mankind, And those sinister,—and what form of life They each maintain, and what their enmities Each with the other, and their loves and friendships; 500 And of the inward parts the plumpness smooth. And with what colour they the Gods would please, And the streaked comeliness of gall and liver: And with burnt limbs enwrapt in fat, and chine, I led men on to art full difficult: And I gave eyes to omens drawn from fire, Till then dim-visioned. So far then for this. And 'neath the earth the hidden boons for men, Bronze, iron, silver, gold, who else could say 510 That he, ere I did, found them? None, I know, Unless he fain would babble idle words. In one short word, then, learn the truth condensed,— Allarts of mortals from Prometheus spring.

_Chor._ Nay, be not thou to men so over-kind, While thou thyself art in sore evil case; For I am sanguine that thou too, released From bonds, shall be as strong as Zeus himself.

_Prom._ It is not thus that Fate's decree is fixed; But I, long crushed with twice ten thousand woes 520 And bitter pains, shall then escape my bonds; Art is far weaker than Necessity.

_Chor._ Who guides the helm, then, of Necessity?

_Prom._ Fates triple-formed, Errinyes unforgetting.

_Chor._ Is Zeus, then, weaker in his might than these?

_Prom._ Not even He can 'scape the thing decreed.

_Chor._ What is decreed for Zeus but still to reign?

_Prom._ Thou may'st no further learn, ask thou no more.

_Chor._ 'Tis doubtless some dread secret which thou hidest.

_Prom._ Of other theme make mention, for the time 530 Is not yet come to utter this, but still It must be hidden to the uttermost; For by thus keeping it it is that I Escape my bondage foul, and these my pains.

STROPHE I

_Chor._ Ah! ne'er may Zeus the Lord,
Whose sovran sway rules all,
His strength in conflict set
Against my feeble will!
Nor may I fail to serve
The Gods with holy feast
Of whole burnt-offerings,
Where the stream ever flows
That bears my father's name,
The great Okeanos!
Nor may I sin in speech! 540
May this grace more and more
Sink deep into my soul
And never fade away!

ANTISTROPHE I

Sweet is it in strong hope
To spend long years of life,
With bright and cheering joy
Our heart's thoughts nourishing.
I shudder, seeing thee
Thus vexed and harassed sore.
By twice ten thousand woes;
For thou in pride of heart,
Having no fear of Zeus, 550
In thine own obstinacy,
Dost show for mortal men,
Prometheus, love o'ermuch.

STROPHE II

See how that boon, dear friends,
For thee is bootless found.
Say, where is any help?
What aid from mortals comes?
Hast thou not seen this brief and powerless life,
Fleeting as dreams, with which man's purblind race
Is fast in fetters bound? 560
Never shall counsels vain
Of mortal men break through
The harmony of Zeus.

ANTISTROPHE II

This lesson have I learnt
Beholding thy sad fate,
Prometheus! Other strains
Come back upon my mind,
When I sang wedding hymns around thy bath,
And at thy bridal bed, when thou did'st take
In wedlock's holy bands
One of the same sire born,
Our own Hesione, 570
Persuading her with gifts
As wife to share thy couch.

_Enter_ IO _in form like a fair woman with a heifer's
horns_,[171] _followed by the Spectre of_ ARGOS

_Io._ What land is this? What people? Whom shall I
Say that I see thus vexed
With bit and curb of rock?
For what offence dost thou
Bear fatal punishment?
Tell me to what far land
I've wandered here in woe.
Ah me! ah me!
Again the gadfly stings me miserable.
Spectre of Argos, thou, the earth-born one—
Ah, keep him off, O Earth!
I fear to look upon that herdsman dread, 580
Him with ten thousand eyes:
Ah lo! he cometh with his crafty look,
Whom Earth refuses even dead to hold;[172]
But coming from beneath
He hunts me miserable,
And drives me famished o'er the sea-beach sand.

STROPHE

And still his waxened reed-pipe soundeth clear
A soft and slumberous strain;
O heavens! O ye Gods! 590
Whither do these long wanderings lead me on?
For what offence, O son of Cronos, what,
Hast thou thus bound me fast
In these great miseries?
Ah me! ah me!
And why with terror of the gadfly's sting
Dost thou thus vex me, frenzied in my soul?
Burn me with fire, or bury me in earth,
Or to wild sea-beasts give me as a prey:
Nay, grudge me not, O King,
An answer to my prayers: 600
Enough my many-wandered wanderings
Have exercised my soul,
Nor have I power to learn
How to avert the woe.

(_To Prometheus_.) Hear'st thou the voice of maiden crowned with horns?

_Prom._ Surely I heard the maid by gadfly driven, Daughter of Inachos, who warmed the heart Of Zeus with love, and now through Hera's hate Is tried, perforce, with wanderings over-long?

ANTISTROPHE

_Io._ How is it that thou speak'st my father's name?
Tell me, the suffering one, 610
Who art thou, who, poor wretch,
Who thus so truly nam'st me miserable,
And tell'st the plague from Heaven,
Which with its haunting stings
Wears me to death? Ah woe!
And I with famished and unseemly bounds
Rush madly, driven by Hera's jealous craft.
Ah, who of all that suffer, born to woe, 620
Have trouble like the pain that I endure?
But thou, make clear to me,
What yet for me remains,
What remedy, what healing for my pangs.
Show me, if thou dost know:
Speak out and tell to me,
The maid by wanderings vexed.

_Prom._ I will say plainly all thou seek'st to know; Not in dark tangled riddles, but plain speech, As it is meet that friends to friends should speak; Thou see'st Prometheus who gave fire to men. 630

_Io._ O thou to men as benefactor known, Why, poor Prometheus, sufferest thou this pain?

_Prom._ I have but now mine own woes ceased to wail.

_Io._ Wilt thou not then bestow this boon on me?

_Prom._ Say what thou seek'st, for I will tell thee all.

_Io._ Tell me, who fettered thee in this ravine?

_Prom._ The counsel was of Zeus, the hand Hephæstos'.

_Io._ Of what offence dost thou the forfeit pay?

_Prom._ Thus much alone am I content to tell.

_Io._ Tell me, at least, besides, what end shall come 640 To my drear wanderings; when the time shall be.

_Prom._ Not to know this is better than to know.

_Io._ Nay, hide not from me what I have to bear.

_Prom._ It is not that I grudge the boon to thee.

_Io._ Why then delayest thou to tell the whole?

_Prom._ Not from ill will, but loth to vex thy soul.

_Io._ Nay, care thou not beyond what pleases me.

_Prom._ If thou desire it I must speak. Hear then.

_Chor._ Not yet though; grant me share of pleasure too. Let us first ask the tale of her great woe, 650 While she unfolds her life's consuming chances; Her future sufferings let her learn from thee.

_Prom._ 'Tis thy work, Io, to grant these their wish, On other grounds and as thy father's kin:[173] For to bewail and moan one's evil chance, Here where one trusts to gain a pitying tear From those who hear,—this is not labour lost.

_Io._ I know not how to disobey your wish; So ye shall learn the whole that ye desire In speech full clear. And yet I blush to tell 660 The storm that came from God, and brought the loss Of maiden face, what way it seized on me. For nightly visions coming evermore Into my virgin bower, sought to woo me With glozing words. “O virgin greatly blest, Why art thou still a virgin when thou might'st Attain to highest wedlock? For with dart Of passion for thee Zeus doth glow, and fain Would make thee his. And thou, O child, spurn not The bed of Zeus, but go to Lerna's field, 670 Where feed thy father's flocks and herds, That so the eye of Zeus may find repose From this his craving.” With such visions I Was haunted every evening, till I dared To tell my father all these dreams of night, And he to Pytho and Dodona sent Full many to consult the Gods, that he, Might learn what deeds and words would please Heaven's lords. And they came bringing speech of oracles Shot with dark sayings, dim and hard to know. 680 At last a clear word came to Inachos Charging him plainly, and commanding him To thrust me from my country and my home, To stray at large[174] to utmost bounds of earth; And, should he gainsay, that the fiery bolt Of Zeus should come and sweep away his race. And he, by Loxias' oracles induced, Thrust me, against his will, against mine too, And drove me from my home; but spite of all, The curb of Zeus constrained him this to do. 690 And then forthwith my face and mind were changed; And hornèd, as ye see me, stung to the quick By biting gadfly, I with maddened leap Rushed to Kerchneia's fair and limpid stream, And fount of Lerna.[175] And a giant herdsman, Argos, full rough of temper, followed me, With many an eye beholding, on my track: And him a sudden and unlooked-for doom Deprived of life. And I, by gadfly stung, By scourge from Heaven am driven from land to land. 700 What has been done thou hearest. And if thou Can'st tell what yet remains of woe, declare it; Nor in thy pity soothe me with false words; For hollow words, I deem, are worst of ills.

_Chor._ Away, away, let be: Ne'er thought I that such tales Would ever, ever come unto mine ears; Nor that such terrors, woes and outrages, Hard to look on, hard to bear, 710 Would chill my soul with sharp goad, double-edged. Ah fate! Ah fate! I shudder, seeing Io's fortune strange.

_Prom._ Thou art too quick in groaning, full of fear: Wait thou a while until thou hear the rest.

_Chor._ Speak thou and tell. Unto the sick 'tis sweet Clearly to know what yet remains of pain.

_Prom._ Your former wish ye gained full easily. Your first desire was to learn of her 720 The tale she tells of her own sufferings; Now therefore hear the woes that yet remain For this poor maid to bear at Hera's hands. And thou, O child of Inachos! take heed To these my words, that thou may'st hear the goal Of all thy wanderings. First then, turning hence Towards the sunrise, tread the untilled plains, And thou shalt reach the Skythian nomads, those[176] Who on smooth-rolling waggons dwell aloft In wicker houses, with far-darting bows 730 Duly equipped. Approach thou not to these, But trending round the coasts on which the surf Beats with loud murmurs,[177] traverse thou that clime. On the left hand there dwell the Chalybes,[178] Who work in iron. Of these do thou beware, For fierce are they and most inhospitable; And thou wilt reach the river fierce and strong, True to its name.[179] This seek not thou to cross, For it is hard to ford, until thou come To Caucasos itself, of all high hills The highest, where a river pours its strength From the high peaks themselves. And thou must cross 740 Those summits near the stars, must onward go Towards the south, where thou shalt find the host Of the Amâzons, hating men, whose home Shall one day be around Thermôdon's bank, By Themiskyra,[180] where the ravenous jaws Of Salmydessos ope upon the sea, Treacherous to sailors, stepdame stern to ships.[181] And they with right good-will shall be thy guides; And thou, hard by a broad pool's narrow gates, Wilt pass to the Kimmerian isthmus. Leaving This boldly, thou must cross Mæotic channel;[182] 750 And there shall be great fame 'mong mortal men Of this thy journey, and the Bosporos[183] Shall take its name from thee. And Europe's plain Then quitting, thou shalt gain the Asian coast. Doth not the all-ruling monarch of the Gods Seem all ways cruel? For, although a God, He, seeking to embrace this mortal maid, Imposed these wanderings on her. Thou hast found, O maiden! bitter suitor for thy hand; For great as are the ills thou now hast heard, Know that as yet not e'en the prelude's known. 760

_Io._ Ah woe! woe! woe!

_Prom._ Again thou groan'st and criest. What wilt do When thou shall learn the evils yet to come?

_Chor._ What! are there troubles still to come for her?

_Prom._ Yea, stormy sea of woe most lamentable.

_Io._ What gain is it to live? Why cast I not Myself at once from this high precipice, And, dashed to earth, be free from all my woes? Far better were it once for all to die Than all one's days to suffer pain and grief. 770

_Prom._ My struggles then full hardly thou would'st bear, For whom there is no destiny of death; For that might bring a respite from my woes: But now there is no limit to my pangs Till Zeus be hurled out from his sovereignty.

_Io._ What! shall Zeus e'er be hurled from his high state?

_Prom._ Thou would'st rejoice, I trow, to see that fall.

_Io._ How should I not, when Zeus so foully wrongs me?

_Prom._ That this is so thou now may'st hear from me.

_Io._ Who then shall rob him of his sceptred sway? 780

_Prom._ Himself shall do it by his own rash plans.

_Io._ But how? Tell this, unless it bringeth harm.

_Prom._ He shall wed one for whom one day he'll grieve.

_Io._ Heaven-born or mortal? Tell, if tell thou may'st.

_Prom._ Why ask'st thou who? I may not tell thee that.

_Io._ Shall his bride hurl him from his throne of might?

_Prom._ Yea; she shall bear child mightier than his sire.

_Io._ Has he no way to turn aside that doom?

_Prom._ No, none; unless I from my bonds be loosed.[184]

_Io._ Who then shall loose thee 'gainst the will of Zeus? 790

_Prom._ It must be one of thy posterity.

_Io._ What, shall a child of mine free thee from ills?

_Prom._ Yea, the third generation after ten.[185]

_Io._ No more thine oracles are clear to me.

*_Prom._ Nay, seek not thou thine own drear fate to know.

_Io._ Do not, a boon presenting, then withdraw it.

_Prom._ Of two alternatives, I'll give thee choice.

_Io._ Tell me of what, then give me leave to choose.

_Prom._ I give it then. Choose, or that I should tell Thy woes to come, or who shall set me free. 800

_Chor._ Of these be willing one request to grant To her, and one to me; nor scorn my words: Tell her what yet of wanderings she must bear, And me who shall release thee. This I crave.

_Prom._ Since ye are eager, I will not refuse To utter fully all that ye desire. Thee, Io, first I'll tell thy wanderings wild, Thou, write it in the tablets of thy mind. When thou shalt cross the straits, of continents The boundary,[186] take thou the onward path On to the fiery-hued and sun-tracked East. 810 [And first of all, to frozen Northern blasts Thou'lt come, and there beware the rushing whirl, Lest it should come upon thee suddenly, And sweep thee onward with the cloud-rack wild;][187] Crossing the sea-surf till thou come at last Unto Kisthene's Gorgoneian plains, Where dwell the grey-haired virgin Phorkides,[188] Three, swan-shaped, with one eye between them all And but one tooth; whom nor the sun beholds With radiant beams, nor yet the moon by night: And near them are their wingèd sisters three, The Gorgons, serpent-tressed, and hating men, Whom mortal wight may not behold and live. 820 *Such is one ill I bid thee guard against; Now hear another monstrous sight: Beware The sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that never bark,[189] The Gryphons, and the one-eyed, mounted host Of Arimaspians, who around the stream That flows o'er gold, the ford of Pluto, dwell:[190] Draw not thou nigh to them. But distant land Thou shalt approach, the swarthy tribes who dwell By the sun's fountain,[191] Æthiopia's stream: By its banks wend thy way until thou come To that great fall where from the Bybline hills 830 The Neilos pours its pure and holy flood; And it shall guide thee to Neilotic land, Three-angled, where, O Io, 'tis decreed For thee and for thy progeny to found A far-off colony. And if of this Aught seem to thee as stammering speech obscure, Ask yet again and learn it thoroughly: Far more of leisure have I than I like.

_Chor._ If thou hast aught to add, aught left untold Of her sore-wasting wanderings, speak it out; 840 But if thou hast said all, then grant to us The boon we asked. Thou dost not, sure, forget it.

_Prom._ The whole course of her journeying she hath heard, And that she know she hath not heard in vain I will tell out what troubles she hath borne Before she came here, giving her sure proof Of these my words. The greater bulk of things I will pass o'er, and to the very goal Of all thy wanderings go. For when thou cam'st To the Molossian plains, and by the grove[192] Of lofty-ridged Dodona, and the shrine Oracular of Zeus Thesprotian, 850 And the strange portent of the talking oaks, By which full clearly, not in riddle dark, Thou wast addressed as noble spouse of Zeus,— If aught of pleasure such things give to thee,— Thence strung to frenzy, thou did'st rush along The sea-coast's path to Rhea's mighty gulf,[193] In backward way from whence thou now art vexed, And for all time to come that reach of sea, Know well, from thee Ionian shall be called, To all men record of thy journeyings. 860 These then are tokens to thee that my mind Sees somewhat more than that is manifest.

What follows (_to the Chorus_) I will speak to you and her In common, on the track of former words Returning once again. A city stands, Canôbos, at its country's furthest bound, Hard by the mouth and silt-bank of the Nile; There Zeus shall give thee back thy mind again,[194] With hand that works no terror touching thee,— Touch only—and thou then shalt bear a child Of Zeus begotten, Epaphos, “Touch-born,” 870 Swarthy of hue, whose lot shall be to reap The whole plain watered by the broad-streamed Neilos: And in the generation fifth from him A household numbering fifty shall return Against their will to Argos, in their flight From wedlock with their cousins.[195] And they too, (Kites but a little space behind the doves) With eager hopes pursuing marriage rites Beyond pursuit shall come; and God shall grudge To give up their sweet bodies. And the land Pelasgian[196] shall receive them, when by stroke Of woman's murderous hand these men shall lie Smitten to death by daring deed of night: 880 For every bride shall take her husband's life, And dip in blood the sharp two-edgèd sword (So to my foes may Kypris show herself!)[197] Yet one of that fair band shall love persuade Her husband not to slaughter, and her will Shall lose its edge; and she shall make her choice Rather as weak than murderous to be known. And she at Argos shall a royal seed Bring forth (long speech 'twould take to tell this clear) 890 Famed for his arrows, who shall set me free[198] From these my woes. Such was the oracle Mine ancient mother Themis, Titan-born, Gave to me; but the manner and the means,— That needs a lengthy tale to tell the whole, And thou can'st nothing gain by learning it.

_Io._ Eleleu! Oh, Eleleu![199]
The throbbing pain inflames me, and the mood
Of frenzy-smitten rage;
The gadfly's pointed sting,
Not forged with fire, attacks,
And my heart beats against my breast with fear. 900
Mine eyes whirl round and round:
Out of my course I'm borne
By the wild spirit of fierce agony,
And cannot curb my lips,
And turbid speech at random dashes on
Upon the waves of dread calamity.

STROPHE I

_Chor._ Wise, very wise was he Who first in thought conceived this maxim sage, And spread it with his speech,[200]— That the best wedlock is with equals found, And that a craftsman, born to work with hands, Should not desire to wed Or with the soft luxurious heirs of wealth, 910 Or with the race that boast their lineage high.

ANTISTROPHE I

Oh ne'er, oh ne'er, dread Fates, May ye behold me as the bride of Zeus, The partner of his couch, Nor may I wed with any heaven-born spouse! For I shrink back, beholding Io's lot Of loveless maidenhood, Consumed and smitten low exceedingly By the wild wanderings from great Hera sent!

STROPHE II

To me, when wedlock is on equal terms, 920
It gives no cause to fear:
Ne'er may the love of any of the Gods,
The strong Gods, look on me
With glance I cannot 'scape!

ANTISTROPHE II

That fate is war that none can war against,
Source of resourceless ill;
Nor know I what might then become of me:
I see not how to 'scape
The counsel deep of Zeus.

_Prom._ Yea, of a truth shall Zeus, though stiff of will, Be brought full low. Such bed of wedlock now Is he preparing, one to cast him forth 930 In darkness from his sovereignty and throne. And then the curse his father Cronos spake Shall have its dread completion, even that He uttered when he left his ancient throne; And from these troubles no one of the Gods But me can clearly show the way to 'scape. I know the time and manner: therefore now Let him sit fearless, in his peals on high Putting his trust, and shaking in his hands His darts fire-breathing. Nought shall they avail To hinder him from falling shamefully 940 A fall intolerable. Such a combatant He arms against himself, a marvel dread, Who shall a fire discover mightier far Than the red levin, and a sound more dread Than roaring of the thunder, and shall shiver That plague sea-born that causeth earth to quake, The trident, weapon of Poseidon's strength: And stumbling on this evil, he shall learn How far apart a king's lot from a slave's.

_Chor._ What thou dost wish thou mutterest against Zeus.

_Prom._ Things that shall be, and things I wish, I speak. 950

_Chor._ And must we look for one to master Zeus?

_Prom._ Yea, troubles harder far than these are his.

_Chor._ Art not afraid to vent such words as these?

_Prom._ What can I fear whose fate is not to die?

_Chor._ But He may send on thee worse pain than this.

_Prom._ So let Him do: nought finds me unprepared.

_Chor._ Wisdom is theirs who Adrasteia worship.[201]

_Prom._ Worship then, praise and flatter him that rules; My care for Zeus is nought, and less than nought: Let Him act, let Him rule this little while, 960 E'en as He will; for long He shall not rule Over the Gods. But lo! I see at hand The courier of the Gods, the minister Of our new sovereign. Doubtless he has come To bring me tidings of some new device.

_Enter_ HERMES

_Herm._ Thee do I speak to,—thee, the teacher wise, The bitterly o'er-bitter, who 'gainst Gods Hast sinned in giving gifts to short-lived men— I speak to thee, the filcher of bright fire. The Father bids thee say what marriage thou Dost vaunt, and who shall hurl Him from his might; And this too not in dark mysterious speech, 970 But tell each point out clearly. Give me not, Prometheus, task of double journey. Zeus Thou see'st, is not with such words appeased.

_Prom._ Stately of utterance, full of haughtiness Thy speech, as fits a messenger of Gods. Ye yet are young in your new rule, and think To dwell in painless towers. Have I not Seen two great rulers driven forth from thence?[202] And now the third, who reigneth, I shall see In basest, quickest fall. Seem I to thee 980 To shrink and quail before these new-made Gods? Far, very far from that am I. But thou, Track once again the path by which thou camest; Thou shalt learn nought of what thou askest me.

_Herm._ It was by such self-will as this before That thou did'st bring these sufferings on thyself.

_Prom._ I for my part, be sure, would never change My evil state for that thy bondslave's lot.

_Herm._ To be the bondslave of this rock, I trow, Is better than to be Zeus' trusty herald! 990

_Prom._ So it is meet the insulter to insult.

_Herm._ Thou waxest proud, 'twould seem, of this thy doom.

_Prom._ Wax proud! God grant that I may see my foes Thus waxing proud, and thee among the rest!

_Herm._ Dost blame me then for thy calamities?

_Prom._ In one short sentence—all the Gods I hate, Who my good turns with evil turns repay.

_Herm._ Thy words prove thee with no slight madness plagued.

_Prom._ If to hate foes be madness, mad I am.

_Herm._ Not one could bear thee wert thou prosperous. 1000

_Prom._ Ah me!

_Herm._ That word is all unknown to Zeus.

_Prom._ Time waxing old can many a lesson teach.

_Herm._ Yet thou at least hast not true wisdom learnt.

_Prom._ I had not else addressed a slave like thee.

_Herm._ Thou wilt say nought the Father asks, 'twould seem.

_Prom._ Fine debt I owe him, favour to repay.

_Herm._ Me as a boy thou scornest then, forsooth.

_Prom._ And art thou not a boy, and sillier far, If that thou thinkest to learn aught from me? There is no torture nor device by which 1010 Zeus can impel me to disclose these things Before these bonds that outrage me be loosed. Let then the blazing levin-flash be hurled; With white-winged snow-storm and with earth-born thunders Let Him disturb and trouble all that is; Nought of these things shall force me to declare Whose hand shall drive him from his sovereignty.

_Herm._ See if thou findest any help in this.

_Prom._ Long since all this I've seen, and formed my plans. 1020

_Herm._ O fool, take heart, take heart at last in time, To form right thoughts for these thy present woes.

_Prom._ Like one who soothes a wave, thy speech in vain Vexes my soul. But deem not thou that I, Fearing the will of Zeus, shall e'er become As womanised in mind, or shall entreat Him whom I greatly loathe, with upturned hand, In woman's fashion, from these bonds of mine To set me free. Far, far am I from that.

_Herm._ It seems that I, saying much, shall speak in vain; For thou in nought by prayers art pacified, Or softened in thy heart, but like a colt 1030 Fresh harnessed, thou dost champ thy bit, and strive, And fight against the reins. Yet thou art stiff In weak device; for self-will, by itself, In one who is not wise, is less than nought. Look to it, if thou disobey my words, How great a storm and triple wave of ills,[203] Not to be 'scaped, shall come on thee; for first, With thunder and the levin's blazing flash The Father this ravine of rock shall crush, And shall thy carcase hide, and stern embrace Of stony arms shall keep thee in thy place. 1040 And having traversed space of time full long, Thou shalt come back to light, and then his hound, The wingèd hound of Zeus, the ravening eagle, Shall greedily make banquet of thy flesh, Coming all day an uninvited guest, And glut himself upon thy liver dark. And of that anguish look not for the end, Before some God shall come to bear thy woes, And will to pass to Hades' sunless realm, And the dark cloudy depths of Tartaros.[204] 1050 Wherefore take heed. No feigned boast is this, But spoken all too truly; for the lips Of Zeus know not to speak a lying speech, But will perform each single word. And thou, Search well, be wise, nor think that self-willed pride Shall ever better prove than counsel good.

_Chor._ To us doth Hermes seem to utter words Not out of season; for he bids thee quit Thy self-willed pride and seek for counsel good. Hearken thou to him. To the wise of soul It is foul shame to sin persistently. 1060

_Prom._ To me who knew it all
He hath this message borne;
And that a foe from foes
Should suffer is not strange.
Therefore on me be hurled
The sharp-edged wreath of fire;
And let heaven's vault be stirred
With thunder and the blasts
Of fiercest winds; and Earth
From its foundations strong,
E'en to its deepest roots,
Let storm-wind make to rock;
And let the Ocean wave,
With wild and foaming surge,
Be heaped up to the paths 1070
Where move the stars of heaven;
And to dark Tartaros
Let Him my carcase hurl,
With mighty blasts of force:
Yet me He shall not slay.

_Herm._ Such words and thoughts from one Brain-stricken one may hear. What space divides his state From frenzy? What repose Hath he from maddened rage? But ye who pitying stand And share his bitter griefs, 1080 Quickly from hence depart, Lest the relentless roar Of thunder stun your soul.

_Chor._ With other words attempt To counsel and persuade, And I will hear: for now Thou hast this word thrust in That we may never bear. How dost thou bid me train My soul to baseness vile? With him I will endure Whatever is decreed. Traitors I've learnt to hate, Nor is there any plague 1090 That more than this I loathe.

_Herm._ Nay then, remember ye What now I say, nor blame Your fortune: never say That Zeus hath cast you down To evil not foreseen. Not so; ye cast yourselves: For now with open eyes, Not taken unawares, In Atè's endless net Ye shall entangled be By folly of your own.

[_A pause, and then flashes of lightning and
peals of thunder_[205]

_Prom._ Yea, now in very deed, No more in word alone, The earth shakes to and fro, And the loud thunder's voice Bellows hard by, and blaze The flashing levin-fires; And tempests whirl the dust, And gusts of all wild winds On one another leap, In wild conflicting blasts, And sky with sea is blent: Such is the storm from Zeus 1110 That comes as working fear, In terrors manifest. O Mother venerable! O Æther! rolling round The common light of all, See'st thou what wrongs I bear?

-----

Footnote 136:

The scene seems at first an exception to the early conventional rule,
which forbade the introduction of a third actor on the Greek stage.
But it has been noticed that (1) Force does not speak, and (2)
Prometheus does not speak till Strength and Force have retired, and
that it is therefore probable that the whole work of nailing is done
on a lay figure or effigy of some kind, and that one of the two who
had before taken part in the dialogue then speaks behind it in the
character of Prometheus. So the same actor must have appeared in
succession as Okeanos, Io, and Hermes.

Footnote 137:

Prometheus (_Forethought_) is the son of Themis (_Right_) the second
occupant of the Pythian Oracle (_Eumen_. v. 2). His sympathy with man
leads him to impart the gift which raised them out of savage animal
life, and for this Zeus, who appears throughout the play as a hard
taskmaster, sentences him to fetters. Hephæstos, from whom this fire
had been stolen, has a touch of pity for him. Strength, who comes as
the servant, not of Hephæstos, but of Zeus himself, acts, as such,
with merciless cruelty.

Footnote 138:

The generalised statement refers to Zeus, as having but recently
expelled Cronos from his throne in Heaven.

Footnote 139:

Hephæstos, as the great fire-worker, had taught Prometheus to use the
fire which he afterwards bestowed on men.

Footnote 140:

Perhaps, “All might is ours except o'er Gods to rule.”

Footnote 141:

The words indicate that the effigy of Prometheus, now nailed to the
rock, was, as being that of a Titan, of colossal size.

Footnote 142:

The touch is characteristic as showing that here, as in the
_Eumenides_, Æschylos relied on the horribleness of the masks, as part
of the machinery of his plays.

Footnote 143:

The silence of Prometheus up to this point was partly, as has been
said, consequent on the conventional laws of the Greek drama, but it
is also a touch of supreme insight into the heroic temper. In the
presence of his torturers, the Titan will not utter even a groan. When
they are gone, he appeals to the sympathy of Nature.

Footnote 144:

The legend is from Hesiod (_Theogon._, v. 567). The fennel, or
_narthex_, seems to have been a large umbelliferous plant, with a
large stem filled with a sort of pith, which was used when dry as
tinder. Stalks were carried as wands (the _thyrsi_) by the men and
women who joined in Bacchanalian processions. In modern botany, the
name is given to the plant which produces Asafœtida, and the stem of
which, from its resinous character, would burn freely, and so connect
itself with the Promethean myth. On the other hand, the Narthex
Asafœtida is found at present only in Persia, Afghanistan, and the
Punjaub.

Footnote 145:

The ocean nymphs, like other divine ones, would be anointed with
ambrosial unguents, and the odour would be wafted before them by the
rustling of their wings. This too we may think of as part of the
“stage effects” of the play.

Footnote 146:

The words are not those of a vague terror only. The sufferer knows
that his tormentor is to come to him before long on wings, and
therefore the sound as of the flight of birds is full of terrors.

Footnote 147:

By the same stage mechanism the Chorus remains in the air till verse
280, when, at the request of Prometheus, they alight.

Footnote 148:

Here, as throughout the play, the poet puts into the mouth of his
_dramatis personæ_ words which must have seemed to the devouter
Athenians sacrilegious enough to call for an indictment before the
Areiopagos. But the final play of the Trilogy came, we may believe, as
the _Eumenides_ did in its turn, as a reconciliation of the
conflicting thoughts that rise in men's minds out of the seeming
anomalies of the world.

Footnote 149:

The words leave it uncertain whether Themis is identified with Earth,
or, as in the _Eumenides_ (v. 2) distinguished from her. The Titans as
a class, then, children of Okeanos and Chthôn (another name for _Land_
or _Earth_), are the kindred rather than the brothers of Prometheus.

Footnote 150:

The generalising words here, as in v. 35, appeal to the Athenian
hatred of all that was represented by the words _tyrant_ and
_tyranny_.

Footnote 151:

The state described is that of men who “through fear of death are all
their lifetime subject to bondage.” That state, the parent of all
superstition, fostered the slavish awe in which Zeus delighted.
Prometheus, representing the active intellect of man, bestows new
powers, new interests, new hopes, which at last divert them from that
fear.

Footnote 152:

The home of Okeanos was in the far west, at the boundary of the great
stream surrounding the whole world, from which he took his name.

Footnote 153:

One of the sayings of the Seven Sages, already recognised and quoted
as a familiar proverb.

Footnote 154:

See note on _Agam._ 1602.

Footnote 155:

In the mythos, Okeanos had given his daughter Hesione in marriage to
Prometheus after the theft of fire, and thus had identified himself
with his transgression.

Footnote 156:

In the _Theogony_ of Hesiod (v. 509), Prometheus and Atlas appear as
the sons of two sisters. As other Titans were thought of as buried
under volcanoes, so this one was identified with the mountain which
had been seen by travellers to Western Africa, or in the seas beyond
it, rising like a column to support the vault of heaven. In Herodotos
(iv. 174) and all later writers, the name is given to the chain of
mountains in Lybia, as being the “pillar of the firmament;” but
Humboldt and others identify it with the lonely peak of Teneriffe, as
seen by Phœnikian or Hellenic voyagers. Teneriffe, too, like most of
the other Titan mountains, was at one time volcanic. Homer (_Odyss._
i. 53) represents him as holding the pillars which separate heaven
from earth; Hesiod (_Theogon._ v. 517) as himself standing near the
Hesperides (this too points to Teneriffe), sustaining the heavens with
his head and shoulders.

Footnote 157:

The volcanic character of the whole of Asia Minor, and the liability
to earthquakes which has marked nearly every period of its history,
led men to connect it also with the traditions of the Titans, some
accordingly placing the home of Typhon in Phrygia, some near Sardis,
some, as here, in Kilikia. Hesiod (_Theogon._ v. 820) describes Typhon
(or Typhoeus) as a serpent-monster hissing out fire; Pindar (_Pyth._
i. 30, viii. 21) as lying with his head and breast crushed beneath the
weight of Ætna, and his feet extending to Cumæ.

Footnote 158:

The words point probably to an eruption, then fresh in men's memories,
which had happened B.C. 476.

Footnote 159:

By some editors this speech from “No, not so,” to “thou know'st how,”
is assigned to Okeanos.

Footnote 160:

These are, of course, the Amazons, who were believed to have come
through Thrakè from the Tauric Chersonesos, and had left traces of
their name and habits in the Attic traditions of Theseus.

Footnote 161:

Beyond the plains of Skythia, and the lake Mæotis (the sea of Azov)
there would be the great river Okeanos, which was believed to flow
round the earth.

Footnote 162:

Sarmatia has been conjectured instead of Arabia. No Greek author
sanctions the extension of the latter name to so remote a region as
that north of the Caspian.

Footnote 163:

The Greek leaves the object of the sympathy undefined, but it seems
better to refer it to that which Atlas receives from the waste of
waters around, and the dark world beneath, than to the pity shown to
Prometheus. This has already been dwelt on in line 421.

Footnote 164:

The passage that follows has for modern palæontologists the interest
of coinciding with their views as to the progress of human society,
and the condition of mankind during what has been called the “Stone”
period. Comp. Lucretius, v. 955-984.

Footnote 165:

Comp. Mr. Blakesley's note on Herod. ii. 4, as showing that here there
was the greater risk of faulty observation.

Footnote 166:

Another reading gives perhaps a better sense—

“Memory, handmaid true
And mother of the Muses.”

Footnote 167:

In Greece, as throughout the East, the ox was used for all
agricultural labours, the horse by the noble and the rich, either in
war chariots, or stately processions, or in chariot races in the great
games.

Footnote 168:

Compare with this the account of the inventions of Palamedes in
Sophocles, _Fragm._ 379.

Footnote 169:

Here we can recognise the knowledge of one who had studied in the
schools of Pythagoras, or had at any rate picked up their terminology.
A more immediate connexion may perhaps be traced with the influence of
Epimenides, who was said to have spent many years in searching out the
healing virtues of plants, and to have written books about them.

Footnote 170:

The lines that follow form almost a manual of the art of divination as
then practised. The “ominous sounds” include chance words, strange
cries, any unexpected utterance that connected itself with men's fears
for the future. The flights of birds were watched by the diviner as he
faced the north, and so the region on the right hand was that of the
sunrise, light, blessedness; on the left there were darkness and gloom
and death.

Footnote 171:

So Io was represented, we are told, by Greek sculptors (Herod. ii.
41), as Isis was by those of Egypt. The points of contact between the
myth of Io and that of Prometheus, as adopted, or perhaps developed,
by Æschylos are—(1) that from her the destined deliverer of the
chained Titan is to come; (2) that both were suffering from the
cruelty of Zeus; (3) that the wanderings of Io gave scope for the wild
tales of far countries on which the imagination of the Athenians fed
greedily. But, as the _Suppliants_ may serve to show, the story itself
had a strange fascination for him. In the birth of Epaphos, and Io's
release from her frenzy, he saw, it may be, a reconciliation of what
had seemed hard to reconcile, a solution of the problems of the world,
like in kind to that which was shadowed forth in the lost _Prometheus
Unbound_.

Footnote 172:

Argos had been slain by Hermes, and his eyes transferred by Hera to
the tail of the peacock, and that bird was henceforth sacred to her.

Footnote 173:

Inachos the father of Io (identified with the Argive river of the same
name), was, like all rivers, a son of Okeanos, and therefore brother
to the nymphs who had come to see Prometheus.

Footnote 174:

The words used have an almost technical meaning as applied to animals
that were consecrated to the service of a God, and set free to wander
where they liked. The fate of Io, as at once devoted to Zeus and
animalised in form, was thus shadowed forth in the very language of
the Oracle.

Footnote 175:

Lerna was the lake near the mouth of the Inachos, close to the sea.
Kerchneia may perhaps be identified with the Kenchreæ, the haven of
Korinth in later geographies.

Footnote 176:

The wicker huts used by Skythian or Thrakian nomads (the Calmucks of
modern geographers) are described by Herodotos (iv. 46) and are still
in use.

Footnote 177:

_Sc._, the N.E. boundary of the Euxine, where spurs of the Caucasos
ridge approach the sea.

Footnote 178:

The Chalybes are placed by geographers to the south of Colchis. The
description of the text indicates a locality farther to the north.

Footnote 179:

Probably the Araxes, which the Greeks would connect with a word
conveying the idea of a torrent dashing on the rocks. The description
seems to imply a river flowing into the Euxine from the Caucasos, and
the condition is fulfilled by the Hypanis or _Kouban_.

Footnote 180:

When the Amazons appear in contact with Greek history, they are found
in Thrace. But they had come from the coast of Pontos, and near the
mouth of the Thermodon (_Thermeh_). The words of Prometheus point to
yet earlier migrations from the East.

Footnote 181:

Here, as in Soph. _Antig._ (970) the name Salmydessos represents the
rockbound, havenless coast from the promontory of Thynias to the
entrance of the Bosporos, which had given to the Black Sea its earlier
name of Axenos, the “inhospitable.”

Footnote 182: