Part 9

ANTIGONE. His rights usurped, he answered wrong with wrong.

HERALD. Nay—but for one man’s sin he smote the State.

ANTIGONE. Contention doth out-talk all other gods! Prate thou no more—I will to bury him.

HERALD. Will, an thou wilt! but I forbid the deed.

[_Exit the HERALD._]

CHORUS. Exulting Fates, who waste the line And whelm the house of Oedipus! Fiends, who have slain, in wrath condign, The father and the children thus! What now befits it that I do, What meditate, what undergo? Can I the funeral rite refrain, Nor weep for Polynices slain? But yet, with fear I shrink and thrill, Presageful of the city’s will! Thou, O Eteocles, shalt have Full rites, and mourners at thy grave, But he, thy brother slain, shall he, With none to weep or cry _Alas_, To unbefriended burial pass? Only one sister o’er his bier, To raise the cry and pour the tear— Who can obey such stern decree?

SEMI-CHORUS. Let those who hold our city’s sway Wreak, or forbear to wreak, their will On those who cry, _Ah, well-a-day!_ Lamenting Polynices still! We will go forth and, side by side With her, due burial will provide! Royal he was; to him be paid Our grief, wherever he be laid! The crowd may sway, and change, and still Take its caprice for Justice’ will! But we this dead Eteocles, As Justice wills and Right decrees, Will bear unto his grave! For—under those enthroned on high And Zeus’ eternal royalty— He unto us salvation gave! He saved us from a foreign yoke,— A wild assault of outland folk, A savage, alien wave!

[_Exeunt._]

PROMETHEUS BOUND

ARGUMENT

In the beginning, Ouranos and Gaia held sway over Heaven and Earth. And manifold children were born unto them, of whom were Cronos, and Okeanos, and the Titans, and the Giants. But Cronos cast down his father Ouranos, and ruled in his stead, until Zeus his son cast him down in his turn, and became King of Gods and men. Then were the Titans divided, for some had good will unto Cronos, and others unto Zeus; until Prometheus, son of the Titan Iapetos, by wise counsel, gave the victory to Zeus. But Zeus held the race of mortal men in scorn, and was fain to destroy them from the face of the earth; yet Prometheus loved them, and gave secretly to them the gift of fire, and arts whereby they could prosper upon the earth. Then was Zeus sorely angered with Prometheus, and bound him upon a mountain, and afterward overwhelmed him in an earthquake, and devised other torments against him for many ages; yet could he not slay Prometheus, for he was a God.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

STRENGTH AND FORCE. HEPHAESTUS. PROMETHEUS. CHORUS OF SEA-NYMPHS. DAUGHTERS OF OCEANUS. OCEANUS. IO. HERMES.

_Scene—A rocky ravine in the mountains of Scythia_.

STRENGTH. Lo, the earth’s bound and limitary land, The Scythian steppe, the waste untrod of men! Look to it now, Hephaestus—thine it is, Thy Sire obeying, this arch-thief to clench Against the steep-down precipice of rock, With stubborn links of adamantine chain. Look thou: thy flower, the gleaming plastic fire, He stole and lent to mortal man—a sin That gods immortal make him rue to-day, Lessoned hereby to own th’ omnipotence Of Zeus, and to repent his love to man!

HEPHAESTUS. O Strength and Force, for you the best of Zeus Stands all achieved, and nothing bars your will: But I—I dare not bind to storm-vext cleft One of our race, immortal as are we. Yet, none the less, necessity constrains, For Zeus, defied, is heavy in revenge! (_To PROMETHEUS_)

O deep-devising child of Themis sage, Small will have I to do, or thou to bear, What yet we must. Beyond the haunt of man Unto this rock, with fetters grimly forged, I must transfix and shackle up thy limbs, Where thou shalt mark no voice nor human form, But, parching in the glow and glare of sun, Thy body’s flower shall suffer a sky-change; And gladly wilt thou hail the hour when Night Shall in her starry robe invest the day, Or when the Sun shall melt the morning rime. But, day or night, for ever shall the load Of wasting agony, that may not pass, Wear thee away; for know, the womb of Time Hath not conceived a power to set thee free. Such meed thou hast, for love toward mankind For thou, a god defying wrath of gods, Beyond the ordinance didst champion men, And for reward shalt keep a sleepless watch, Stiff-kneed, erect, nailed to this dismal rock, With manifold laments and useless cries Against the will inexorable of Zeus. Hard is the heart of fresh-usurpèd power!

STRENGTH. Enough of useless ruth! why tarriest thou? Why pitiest one whom all gods wholly hate, One who to man gave o’er thy privilege?

HEPHAESTUS. Kinship and friendship wring my heart for him.

STRENGTH. Ay—but how disregard our Sire’s command? Is not thy pity weaker than thy fear?

HEPHAESTUS. Ruthless as ever, brutal to the full!

STRENGTH. Tears can avail him nothing: strive not thou, Nor waste thine efforts thus unaidingly.

HEPHAESTUS. Out on my cursed mastery of steel!

STRENGTH. Why curse it thus? In sooth that craft of thine Standeth assoiled of all that here is wrought.

HEPHAESTUS. Would that some other were endowed therewith!

STRENGTH. All hath its burden, save the rule of Heaven, And freedom is for Zeus, and Zeus alone.

HEPHAESTUS. I know it; I gainsay no word hereof.

STRENGTH. Up, then, and hasten to do on his bonds, Lest Zeus behold thee indolent of will!

HEPHAESTUS. Ah well—behold the armlets ready now!

STRENGTH. Then cast them round his arms and with sheer strength Swing down the hammer, clinch him to the crags.

HEPHAESTUS. Lo, ’tis toward—no weakness in the work!

STRENGTH. Smite harder, wedge it home—no faltering here! He hath a craft can pass th’ impassable!

HEPHAESTUS. This arm is fast, inextricably bound.

STRENGTH. Then shackle safe the other, that he know His utmost craft is weaker far than Zeus.

HEPHAESTUS. He, but none other, can accuse mine art!

STRENGTH. Now, strong and sheer, drive thro’ from breast to back The adamantine wedge’s stubborn fang.

HEPHAESTUS. Alas, Prometheus! I lament thy pain.

STRENGTH. Thou, faltering and weeping sore for those Whom Zeus abhors! ’ware, lest thou rue thy tears!

HEPHAESTUS. Thou gazest on a scene that poisons sight.

STRENGTH. I gaze on one who suffers his desert. Now between rib and shoulder shackle him—

HEPHAESTUS. Do it I must—hush thy superfluous charge!

STRENGTH. Urge thee I will—ay, hound thee to the prey. Step downward now, enring his legs amain!

HEPHAESTUS. Lo, it is done—’twas but a moment’s toil.

STRENGTH. Now, strongly strike, drive in the piercing gyves— Stern is the power that oversees thy task!

HEPHAESTUS. Brutish thy form, thy speech brutality!

STRENGTH. Be gentle, an thou wilt, but blame not me For this my stubbornness and anger fell!

HEPHAESTUS. Let us go hence; his legs are firmly chained.

STRENGTH (_To_ PROMETHEUS). Aha! there play the insolent, and steal, For creatures of a day, the rights of gods! O deep delusion of the powers that named thee Prometheus, the Fore-thinker! thou hast need Of others’ forethought and device, whereby Thou may’st elude this handicraft of ours!

[_Exeunt HEPHAESTUS, STRENGTH and FORCE.—A pause._]

PROMETHEUS. O Sky divine, O Winds of pinions swift, O fountain-heads of Rivers, and O thou, Illimitable laughter of the Sea! O Earth, the Mighty Mother, and thou Sun, Whose orbed light surveyeth all—attest, What ills I suffer from the gods, a god! Behold me, who must here sustain The marring agonies of pain, Wrestling with torture, doomed to bear Eternal ages, year on year! Such and so shameful is the chain Which Heaven’s new tyrant doth ordain To bind me helpless here. Woe! for the ruthless present doom! Woe! for the Future’s teeming womb! On what far dawn, in what dim skies, Shall star of my deliverance rise?

Truce to this utterance! to its dimmest verge I do foreknow the future, hour by hour, Nor can whatever pang may smite me now Smite with surprise. The destiny ordained I must endure to the best, for well I wot That none may challenge with Necessity. Yet is it past my patience, to reveal, Or to conceal, these issues of my doom. Since I to mortals brought prerogatives, Unto this durance dismal am I bound: Yea, I am he who in a fennel-stalk, By stealthy sleight, purveyed the fount of fire, The teacher, proven thus, and arch-resource Of every art that aideth mortal men. Such was my sin: I earn its recompense, Rock-riveted, and chained in height and cold.

[_A pause._]

Listen! what breath of sound, what fragrance soft hath risen Upward to me? is it some godlike essence, Or being half-divine, or mortal presence? Who to the world’s end comes, unto my craggy prison? Craves he the sight of pain, or what would he behold? Gaze on a god in tortures manifold, Heinous to Zeus, and scorned by all Whose footsteps tread the heavenly hall, Because too deeply, from on high, I pitied man’s mortality! Hark, and again! that fluttering sound Of wings that whirr and circle round, And their light rustle thrills the air— How all things that unseen draw near Are to me Fear!

Enter the CHORUS OF OCEANIDES in winged cars.

CHORUS. Ah, fear us not! as friends, with rivalry Of swiftly-vying wings, we came together Unto this rock and thee! With our sea-sire we pleaded hard, until We won him to our will, And swift the wafting breezes bore us hither. The heavy hammer’s steely blow Thrilled to our ocean-cavern from afar, Banished soft shyness from our maiden brow, And with unsandalled feet we come, in winged car!

PROMETHEUS. Ah well-a-day! ye come, ye come From the Sea-Mother’s teeming home— Children of Tethys and the sire Who around Earth rolls, gyre on gyre, His sleepless ocean-tide! Look on me—shackled with what chain, Upon this chasm’s beetling side I must my dismal watch sustain!

CHORUS. Yea, I behold, Prometheus! and my fears Draw swiftly o’er mine eyes a mist fulfilled of tears, When I behold thy frame Bound, wasting on the rock, and put to shame By adamantine chains! The rudder and the rule of Heaven Are to strange pilots given: Zeus with new laws and strong caprice holds sway, Unkings the ancient Powers, their might constrains, And thrusts their pride away!

PROMETHEUS. Had he but hurled me, far beneath The vast and ghostly halls of Death, Down to the limitless profound Of Tartarus, in fetters bound, Fixed by his unrelenting hand! So had no man, nor God on high, Exulted o’er mine agony— But now, a sport to wind and sky, Mocked by my foes, I stand!

CHORUS. What God can wear such ruthless heart As to delight in ill? Who in thy sorrow bears not part? Zeus, Zeus alone! for he, with wrathful will, Clenched and inflexible, Bears down Heaven’s race—nor end shall be, till hate His soul shall satiate, Or till, by some device, some other hand Shall wrest from him his sternly-clasped command!

PROMETHEUS. Yet,—though in shackles close and strong I lie in wasting torments long,— Yet the new tyrant, ’neath whose nod Cowers down each blest subservient god, One day, far hence, my help shall need, The destined stratagem to read, Whereby, in some yet distant day, Zeus shall be reaved of pride and sway: And no persuasion’s honied spell Shall lure me on, the tale to tell; And no stern threat shall make me cower And yield the secret to his power, Until his purpose be foregone, And shackles yield, and he atone The deep despite that he hath done!

CHORUS. O strong in hardihood, thou striv’st amain Against the stress of pain! But yet too free, too resolute thy tongue In challenging thy wrong! Ah, shuddering dread doth make my spirit quiver, And o’er thy fate sits Fear! I see not to what shore of safety ever Thy bark can steer— In depths unreached the will of Zeus doth dwell, Hidden, implacable!

PROMETHEUS. Ay, stern is Zeus, and Justice stands, Wrenched to his purpose, in his hands— Yet shall he learn, perforce, to know A milder mood, when falls the blow— His ruthless wrath he shall lay still, And he and I with mutual will In concord’s bond shall go.

CHORUS. Unveil, say forth to us the tale entire, Under what imputation Zeus laid hands On thee, to rack thee thus with shameful pangs? Tell us—unless the telling pain thee—all!

PROMETHEUS. Grievous alike are these things for my tongue, Grievous for silence—rueful everyway. Know that, when first the gods began their strife, And heaven was all astir with mutual feud— Some willing to fling Cronos from his throne, And set, forsooth, their Zeus on high as king, And other some in contrariety Striving to bar him from heaven’s throne for aye— Thereon I sought to counsel for the best The Titan brood of Ouranos and Earth; Yet I prevailed not, for they held in scorn My glozing wiles, and, in their hardy pride, Deemed that sans effort they could grasp the sway. But, for my sake, my mother Themis oft, And Earth, one symbol of names manifold, Had held me warned, how in futurity It stood ordained that not by force or power, But by some wile, the victors must prevail. In such wise I interpreted; but they Deigned not to cast their heed thereon at all. Then, of things possible, I deemed it best, Joining my mother’s wisdom to mine own, To range myself with Zeus, two wills in one. Thus, by device of mine, the murky depth Of Tartarus enfoldeth Cronos old And those who strove beside him. Such the aid I gave the lord of heaven—my meed for which He paid me thus, a penal recompense! For ’tis the inward vice of tyranny, To deem of friends as being secret foes. Now, to your question—hear me clearly show On what imputed fault he tortures me. Scarce was he seated on his father’s throne, When he began his doles of privilege Among the lesser gods, allotting power In trim division; while of mortal men Nothing he recked, nor of their misery Nay, even willed to blast their race entire To nothingness, and breed another brood; And none but I was found to cross his will. I dared it, I alone; I rescued men From crushing ruin and th’ abyss of hell— Therefore am I constrained in chastisement Grievous to bear and piteous to behold,— Yea, firm to feel compassion for mankind, Myself was held unworthy of the same— Ay, beyond pity am I ranged and ruled To sufferance—a sight that shames his sway!

CHORUS. A heart of steel, a mould of stone were he, Who could complacently behold thy pains I came not here as craving for this sight, And, seeing it, I stand heart-wrung with pain.

PROMETHEUS. Yea truly, kindly eyes must pity me!

CHORUS. Say, didst thou push transgression further still?

PROMETHEUS. Ay, man thro’ me ceased to foreknow his death.

CHORUS. What cure couldst thou discover for this curse?

PROMETHEUS. Blind hopes I sent to nestle in man’s heart.

CHORUS. This was a goodly gift thou gavest them.

PROMETHEUS. Yet more I gave them, even the boon of fire.

CHORUS. What? radiant fire, to things ephemeral?

PROMETHEUS. Yea—many an art too shall they learn thereby!

CHORUS. Then, upon imputation of such guilt, Doth Zeus without surcease torment thee thus? Is there no limit to thy course of pain?

PROMETHEUS. None, till his own will shall decree an end.

CHORUS. And how shall he decree it? say, what hope? Seëst thou not thy sin? yet of that sin It irks me sore to speak, as thee to hear. Nay, no more words hereof; bethink thee now, From this ordeal how to find release.

PROMETHEUS. Easy it is, for one whose foot is set Outside the slough of pain, to lesson well With admonitions him who lies therein. With perfect knowledge did I all I did, I willed to sin, and sinned, I own it all— I championed men, unto my proper pain. Yet scarce I deemed that, in such cruel doom, Withering upon this skyey precipice, I should inherit lonely mountain crags, Here, in a vast tin-neighboured solitude. Yet list not to lament my present pains, But, stepping from your cars unto the ground, Listen, the while I tell the future fates Now drawing near, until ye know the whole. Grant ye, O grant my prayer, be pitiful To one now racked with woe! the doom of pain Wanders, but settles, soon or late, on all.

CHORUS. To willing hearts, and schooled to feel, Prometheus, came thy tongue’s appeal; Therefore we leave, with lightsome tread, The flying cars in which we sped— We leave the stainless virgin air Where winged creatures float and fare, And by thy side, on rocky land, Thus gently we alight and stand, Willing, from end to end, to know Thine history of woe.

The CHORUS alight from their winged cars. Enter OCEANUS mounted on a griffin.

OCEANUS. Thus, over leagues and leagues of space I come, Prometheus, to thy place— By will alone, not rein, I guide The winged thing on which I ride; And much, be sure, I mourn thy case— Kinship is Pity’s bond, I trow; And, wert thou not akin, I vow None other should have more than thou Of my compassion’s grace! ’Tis said, and shall be proved; no skill Have I to gloze and feign goodwill! Name but some mode of helpfulness, And thou wilt in a trice confess That I, Oceanus, am best Of all thy friends, and trustiest.

PROMETHEUS. Ho, what a sight of marvel! what, thou too Comest to contemplate my pains, and darest— (Yet how, I wot not!) leaving far behind The circling tide, thy namefellow, and those Rock-arched, self-hollowed caverns—thus to come Unto this land, whose womb bears iron ore? Art come to see my lot, resent with me The ills I bear? Well, gaze thy fill! behold Me, friend of Zeus, part-author of his power— Mark, in what ruthlessness he bows me down!

OCEANUS. Yea, I behold, Prometheus! and would warn Thee, spite of all thy wisdom, for thy weal! Learn now thyself to know, and to renew A rightful spirit within thee, for, made new With pride of place, sits Zeus among the gods! Now, if thou choosest to fling forth on him Words rough with anger thus and edged with scorn, Zeus, though he sit aloof, afar, on high, May hear thine utterance, and make thee deem His present wrath a mere pretence of pain. Banish, poor wretch! the passion of thy soul, And seek, instead, acquittance from thy pangs! Belike my words seem ancientry to thee— Such, natheless, O Prometheus, is the meed That doth await the overweening tongue! Meek wert thou never, wilt not crouch to pain, But, set amid misfortunes, cravest more! Now—if thou let thyself be schooled by me— Thou must not kick against the goad. Thou knowest, A despot rules, harsh, resolute, supreme, Whose law is will. Yet shall I go to him, With all endeavour to relieve thy plight— So thou wilt curb the tempest of thy tongue! Surely thou knowest, in thy wisdom deep, The saw—_Who vaunts amiss, quick pain is his_.

PROMETHEUS. O enviable thou, and unaccused— Thou who wast art and part in all I dared! And now, let be! make this no care of thine, For Zeus is past persuasion—urge him not! Look to thyself, lest thine emprise thou rue.

OCEANUS. Thou hast more skill to school thy neighbour’s fault Than to amend thine own: ’tis proved and plain, By fact, not hearsay, that I read this well. Yet am I fixed to go—withhold me not— Assured I am, assured, that Zeus will grant The boon I crave, the loosening of thy bonds.

PROMETHEUS. In part I praise thee, to the end will praise; Goodwill thou lackest not, but yet forbear Thy further trouble! If thy heart be fain, Bethink thee that thy toil avails me not. Nay, rest thee well, aloof from danger’s brink! I will not ease my woe by base relief In knowing others too involved therein. Away the thought! for deeply do I rue My brother Atlas’ doom. Far off he stands In sunset land, and on his shoulder bears The pillar’d mountain-mass whose base is earth, Whose top is heaven, and its ponderous load Too great for any grasp. With pity too I saw Earth’s child, the monstrous thing of war, That in Cilicia’s hollow places dwelt— Typho; I saw his hundred-headed form Crushed and constrained; yet once his stride was fierce, His jaws gaped horror and their hiss was death, And all heaven’s host he challenged to the fray, While, as one vowed to storm the power of Zeus, Forth from his eyes he shot a demon glare. It skilled not: the unsleeping bolt of Zeus, The downward levin with its rush of flame, Smote on him, and made dumb for evermore The clamour of his vaunting: to the heart Stricken he lay, and all that mould of strength Sank thunder-shattered to a smouldering ash; And helpless now and laid in ruin huge He lieth by the narrow strait of sea, Crushed at the root of Etna’s mountain-pile. High on the pinnacles whereof there sits Hephaestus, sweltering at the forge; and thence On some hereafter day shall burst and stream The lava-floods, that shall with ravening fangs Gnaw thy smooth lowlands, fertile Sicily! Such ire shall Typho from his living grave Send seething up, such jets of fiery surge, Hot and unslaked, altho’ himself be laid In quaking ashes by Zeus’ thunderbolt. But thou dost know hereof, nor needest me To school thy sense: thou knowest safety’s road— Walk then thereon! I to the dregs will drain, Till Zeus relent from wrath, my present woe.

OCEANUS. Nay, but, Prometheus, know’st thou not the saw— _Words can appease the angry soul’s disease?_

PROMETHEUS. Ay—if in season one apply their salve, Not scorching wrath’s proud flesh with caustic tongue.

OCEANUS. But in wise thought and venturous essay Perceivest thou a danger? prithee tell!

PROMETHEUS. I see a fool’s good nature, useless toil.

OCEANUS. Let me be sick of that disease; I know, Loyalty, masked as folly, wins the way.

PROMETHEUS. But of thy blunder I shall bear the blame.

OCEANUS. Clearly, thy word would send me home again.

PROMETHEUS. Lest thy lament for me should bring thee hate.

OCEANUS. Hate from the newly-throned Omnipotence?

PROMETHEUS. Be heedful—lest his will be wroth with thee!

OCEANUS. Thy doom, Prometheus, cries to me _Beware!_

PROMETHEUS. Mount, make away, discretion at thy side!

OCEANUS. Thy word is said to me in act to go: For lo, my hippogriff with waving wings Fans the smooth course of air, and fain is he To rest his limbs within his ocean stall.

[_Exit OCEANUS._]