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 G.o.d, 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 sh.o.r.e 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 G.o.ds 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 t.i.tan 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 G.o.ds, 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 h.e.l.l- Therefore am I constrained in chastis.e.m.e.nt Grievous to bear and piteous to behold,- Yea, firm to feel compa.s.sion 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?

Seest 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 OCEa.n.u.s, mounted on a griffin.

OCEa.n.u.s Thus, over leagues and leagues of s.p.a.ce 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 compa.s.sion'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, Ocea.n.u.s, 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!

OCEa.n.u.s