But now the winds sing through and shake The hurtling chains wherein I hang, And I, in my naked sorrows, make Much mirth for my enemy.

_Chorus, 2nd Strophe._ Nay! who of the G.o.ds hath a heart so stern As to use thy woe for a mock and mirth?

Who would not turn more mild to learn Thy sorrows? who of the heaven and earth Save Zeus? But he Right wrathfully Bears on his sceptral soul unbent And rules thereby the heavenly seed, Nor will he pause till he content His thirsty heart in a finished deed; Or till Another shall appear, To win by fraud, to seize by fear The hard-to-be-captured government.

_Prometheus._ Yet even of _me_ he shall have need, That monarch of the blessed seed, Of me, of me, who now am cursed By his fetters dire,-- To wring my secret out withal And learn by whom his sceptre shall Be filched from him--as was, at first, His heavenly fire.

But he never shall enchant me With his honey-lipped persuasion; Never, never shall he daunt me With the oath and threat of pa.s.sion Into speaking as they want me, Till he loose this savage chain, And accept the expiation Of my sorrow, in his pain.

_Chorus, 2nd Antistrophe._ Thou art, sooth, a brave G.o.d, And, for all thou hast borne From the stroke of the rod, Nought relaxest from scorn.

But thou speakest unto me Too free and unworn; And a terror strikes through me And festers my soul And I fear, in the roll Of the storm, for thy fate In the ship far from sh.o.r.e: Since the son of Saturnus is hard in his hate And unmoved in his heart evermore.

_Prometheus._ I know that Zeus is stern; I know he metes his justice by his will; And yet, his soul shall learn More softness when once broken by this ill: And curbing his unconquerable vaunt He shall rush on in fear to meet with me Who rush to meet with him in agony, To issues of harmonious covenant.

_Chorus._ Remove the veil from all things and relate The story to us,--of what crime accused, Zeus smites thee with dishonourable pangs.

Speak: if to teach us do not grieve thyself.

_Prometheus._ The utterance of these things is torture to me, But so, too, is their silence; each way lies Woe strong as fate.

When G.o.ds began with wrath, And war rose up between their starry brows, Some choosing to cast Chronos from his throne That Zeus might king it there, and some in haste With opposite oaths that they would have no Zeus To rule the G.o.ds for ever,--I, who brought The counsel I thought meetest, could not move The t.i.tans, children of the Heaven and Earth, What time, disdaining in their rugged souls My subtle machinations, they a.s.sumed It was an easy thing for force to take The mastery of fate. My mother, then, Who is called not only Themis but Earth too, (Her single beauty joys in many names) Did teach me with reiterant prophecy What future should be, and how conquering G.o.ds Should not prevail by strength and violence But by guile only. When I told them so, They would not deign to contemplate the truth On all sides round; whereat I deemed it best To lead my willing mother upwardly And set my Themis face to face with Zeus As willing to receive her. Tartarus, With its abysmal cloister of the Dark, Because I gave that counsel, covers up The antique Chronos and his siding hosts, And, by that counsel helped, the king of G.o.ds Hath recompensed me with these bitter pangs: For kingship wears a cancer at the heart,-- Distrust in friendship. Do ye also ask What crime it is for which he tortures me?

That shall be clear before you. When at first He filled his father's throne, he instantly Made various gifts of glory to the G.o.ds And dealt the empire out. Alone of men, Of miserable men, he took no count, But yearned to sweep their track off from the world And plant a newer race there. Not a G.o.d Resisted such desire except myself.

_I_ dared it! _I_ drew mortals back to light, From meditated ruin deep as h.e.l.l!

For which wrong, I am bent down in these pangs Dreadful to suffer, mournful to behold, And I, who pitied man, am thought myself Unworthy of pity; while I render out Deep rhythms of anguish 'neath the harping hand That strikes me thus--a sight to shame your Zeus!

_Chorus._ Hard as thy chains and cold as all these rocks Is he, Prometheus, who withholds his heart

From joining in thy woe. I yearned before To fly this sight; and, now I gaze on it, I sicken inwards.

_Prometheus._ To my friends, indeed, I must be a sad sight.

_Chorus._ And didst thou sin No more than so?

_Prometheus._ I did restrain besides My mortals from premeditating death.

_Chorus._ How didst thou medicine the plague-fear of death?

_Prometheus._ I set blind Hopes to inhabit in their house.

_Chorus._ By that gift thou didst help thy mortals well.

_Prometheus._ I gave them also fire.

_Chorus._ And have they now, Those creatures of a day, the red-eyed fire?

_Prometheus._ They have: and shall learn by it many arts.

_Chorus._ And truly for such sins Zeus tortures thee And will remit no anguish? Is there set No limit before thee to thine agony?

_Prometheus._ No other: only what seems good to HIM.

_Chorus._ And how will it seem good? what hope remains?

Seest thou not that thou hast sinned? But that thou hast sinned It glads me not to speak of, and grieves thee: Then let it pa.s.s from both, and seek thyself Some outlet from distress.

_Prometheus._ It is in truth An easy thing to stand aloof from pain And lavish exhortation and advice On one vexed sorely by it. I have known All in prevision. By my choice, my choice, I freely sinned--I will confess my sin-- And helping mortals, found my own despair.

I did not think indeed that I should pine Beneath such pangs against such skyey rocks, Doomed to this drear hill and no neighbouring Of any life: but mourn not ye for griefs I bear to-day: hear rather, dropping down To the plain, how other woes creep on to me, And learn the consummation of my doom.

Beseech you, nymphs, beseech you, grieve for me Who now am grieving; for Grief walks the earth, And sits down at the foot of each by turns.

_Chorus._ We hear the deep clash of thy words, Prometheus, and obey.

And I spring with a rapid foot away From the rushing car and the holy air, The track of birds; And I drop to the rugged ground and there Await the tale of thy despair.

_OCEa.n.u.s enters._

_Ocea.n.u.s._ I reach the bourn of my weary road Where I may see and answer thee, Prometheus, in thine agony.

On the back of the quick-winged bird I glode, And I bridled him in With the will of a G.o.d.

Behold, thy sorrow aches in me Constrained by the force of kin.

Nay, though that tie were all undone, For the life of none beneath the sun Would I seek a larger benison Than I seek for thine.

And thou shalt learn my words are truth,-- That no fair parlance of the mouth Grows falsely out of mine.

Now give me a deed to prove my faith; For no faster friend is named in breath Than I, Ocea.n.u.s, am thine.

_Prometheus._ Ha! what has brought thee? Hast thou also come To look upon my woe? How hast thou dared To leave the depths called after thee, the caves Self-hewn and self-roofed with spontaneous rock, To visit earth, the mother of my chain?

Hast come indeed to view my doom and mourn That I should sorrow thus? Gaze on, and see How I, the fast friend of your Zeus,--how I The erector of the empire in his hand, Am bent beneath that hand, in this despair.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ Prometheus, I behold: and I would fain Exhort thee, though already subtle enough, To a better wisdom. t.i.tan, know thyself, And take new softness to thy manners since A new king rules the G.o.ds. If words like these, Harsh words and trenchant, thou wilt fling abroad, Zeus haply, though he sit so far and high, May hear thee do it, and so, this wrath of his Which now affects thee fiercely, shall appear A mere child's sport at vengeance. Wretched G.o.d, Rather dismiss the pa.s.sion which thou hast, And seek a change from grief. Perhaps I seem To address thee with old saws and outworn sense,-- Yet such a curse, Prometheus, surely waits On lips that speak too proudly: thou, meantime, Art none the meeker, nor dost yield a jot To evil circ.u.mstance, preparing still To swell the account of grief with other griefs Than what are borne. Beseech thee, use me then For counsel: do not spurn against the p.r.i.c.ks,-- Seeing that who reigns, reigns by cruelty Instead of right. And now, I go from hence, And will endeavour if a power of mine Can break thy fetters through. For thee,--be calm, And smooth thy words from pa.s.sion. Knowest thou not Of perfect knowledge, thou who knowest too much, That where the tongue wags, ruin never lags?

_Prometheus._ I gratulate thee who hast shared and dared All things with me, except their penalty.

Enough so! leave these thoughts. It cannot be That thou shouldst move HIM. HE may _not_ be moved; And _thou_ beware of sorrow on this road.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ Ay! ever wiser for another's use Than thine! the event, and not the prophecy, Attests it to me. Yet where now I rush, Thy wisdom hath no power to drag me back; Because I glory, glory, to go hence And win for thee deliverance from thy pangs, As a free gift from Zeus.

_Prometheus._ Why there, again, I give thee gratulation and applause.

Thou lackest no goodwill. But, as for deeds, Do nought! 'twere all done vainly; helping nought, Whatever thou wouldst do. Rather take rest And keep thyself from evil. If I grieve, I do not therefore wish to multiply The griefs of others. Verily, not so!

For still my brother's doom doth vex my soul,-- My brother Atlas, standing in the west, Shouldering the column of the heaven and earth, A difficult burden! I have also seen, And pitied as I saw, the earth-born one, The inhabitant of old Cilician caves, The great war-monster of the hundred heads, (All taken and bowed beneath the violent Hand,) Typhon the fierce, who did resist the G.o.ds, And, hissing slaughter from his dreadful jaws, Flash out ferocious glory from his eyes As if to storm the throne of Zeus. Whereat, The sleepless arrow of Zeus flew straight at him, The headlong bolt of thunder breathing flame, And struck him downward from his eminence Of exultation; through the very soul, It struck him, and his strength was withered up To ashes, thunder-blasted. Now he lies A helpless trunk supinely, at full length Beside the strait of ocean, spurred into By roots of aetna; high upon whose tops Hephaestus sits and strikes the flashing ore.

From thence the rivers of fire shall burst away Hereafter, and devour with savage jaws The equal plains of fruitful Sicily, Such pa.s.sion he shall boil back in hot darts Of an insatiate fury and sough of flame, Fallen Typhon,--howsoever struck and charred By Zeus's bolted thunder. But for thee, Thou art not so unlearned as to need My teaching--let thy knowledge save thyself.

_I_ quaff the full cup of a present doom, And wait till Zeus hath quenched his will in wrath.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ Prometheus, art thou ignorant of this, That words do medicine anger?

_Prometheus._ If the word With seasonable softness touch the soul And, where the parts are ulcerous, sear them not By any rudeness.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ With a n.o.ble aim To dare as n.o.bly--is there harm in _that_?

Dost thou discern it? Teach me.

_Prometheus._ I discern Vain aspiration, unresultive work.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ Then suffer me to bear the brunt of this!

Since it is profitable that one who is wise Should seem not wise at all.

_Prometheus._ And such would seem My very crime.

_Ocea.n.u.s._ In truth thine argument Sends me back home.

_Prometheus._ Lest any lament for me Should cast thee down to hate.