 | Prometheus The Fire-Giver |  |
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CHORUS
Shapes of shadows, who are ye,
Dark-robed, mighty, mystic Three?
THE FATES
Daughters of primæval night,
Dwellers deep in primal gloom,
Ere Earth was, ere yet was light,
We, the mystic Three, dealt doom.
Chaos with unbreathing awe
Saw the weirdly-working Three
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All, in earth or heaven to be.
CLOTHO
Lo, I whirl the mighty spindle;
I the thread of being spin,
All the life to grow, to dwindle,
Life to laugh, to weep, to sin,
Life to gleam with fleeting gladness,
Life to dare to dream 'tis blest,
Life to know the scourge of sadness,
Know despair, man's hateful guest.
LACHESIS
We Ouranos' ancient might,
We discrownëd Kronos' throne
Drew from forth the womb of night,
Womb that bore for us alone.
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Realmless years, their empire past;
Earth and Heaven our rule obey,
Ours that Zeus's shall outlast.
ATROPOS
Yes, the Thunderer sits on high,
Throned 'mid golden-sceptred Powers;
At his nod, men live, men die,
But his awful gifts are ours;
Shall he, from his golden stool
Hurled, with dungeoned Godheads, groan,
Or shall One uphold his rule?
That to us and One is known,
Unto One and us alone.
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STROPHE 1
Hark! heard we the boasts they uttered?
Heard we their dark words aright?
Was that Zeus's thunder muttered?
Will his lightnings scathe and smite?
Of the Earth-born Strengths, down-hurler,
He, Prometheus-counselled, Throne
O'er all Thrones, this distaff-whirler,
This Three, will he spare alone?
ANTISTROPHE 1Heard we their dark words aright?
Was that Zeus's thunder muttered?
Will his lightnings scathe and smite?
Of the Earth-born Strengths, down-hurler,
He, Prometheus-counselled, Throne
O'er all Thrones, this distaff-whirler,
This Three, will he spare alone?
Who is this One these were bold of,
These that boast dread Zeus their slave,
He whom this their drear chant told of,
He who Zeus's reign can save?
Wilt not Thou, O Cloud-compeller,
From their fraudful vauntings, wring
This their secret? O All-queller,
This to light, from darkness, bring.
STROPHE 2These that boast dread Zeus their slave,
He whom this their drear chant told of,
He who Zeus's reign can save?
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From their fraudful vauntings, wring
This their secret? O All-queller,
This to light, from darkness, bring.
O holy Fear, be thou my guide
Through wildering ways where doubt would fain mislead;
Let not my soul, insensate, stray through pride,
Or the false lures that steal from seeming wisdom heed;
With thee, O trembling Reverence, have I trod
Safely my bygone path with footsteps sure,
Nor will I now dare Zeus's chastening nod
And court his wrath, in trustless thoughts, secure.
No; be it mine to give not hate but awe
Unto high Zeus, for he can but be just,
Mine to see right in all he wills as law,
And crush rebelling doubt with perfect trust.
Through wildering ways where doubt would fain mislead;
Let not my soul, insensate, stray through pride,
Or the false lures that steal from seeming wisdom heed;
With thee, O trembling Reverence, have I trod
Safely my bygone path with footsteps sure,
Nor will I now dare Zeus's chastening nod
And court his wrath, in trustless thoughts, secure.
No; be it mine to give not hate but awe
Unto high Zeus, for he can but be just,
Mine to see right in all he wills as law,
And crush rebelling doubt with perfect trust.
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Ah me! how madly Folly dares
The warning voice of Caution to despise
And judges listening Zeus, nor fears, nor cares
Lest Vengeance smite him hellwards, with fierce eyes,
So do the loud-tongued, reckless, rush on ill,
Blind to the Furies gnashing in their road;
Those marked to perish, thus Zeus maddens still,
Them, the fell brood of hell, to sure destruction, goad;
Who from itself shall save the frenzied soul
That mocks at awe and scoffs when warned of doom?
Him may no fear of Heaven's red bolts control,
Nor of the lightnings that, the curst, consume.
EPODE.The warning voice of Caution to despise
And judges listening Zeus, nor fears, nor cares
Lest Vengeance smite him hellwards, with fierce eyes,
So do the loud-tongued, reckless, rush on ill,
Blind to the Furies gnashing in their road;
Those marked to perish, thus Zeus maddens still,
Them, the fell brood of hell, to sure destruction, goad;
Who from itself shall save the frenzied soul
That mocks at awe and scoffs when warned of doom?
Him may no fear of Heaven's red bolts control,
Nor of the lightnings that, the curst, consume.
See! the Furies, dogs of hell,
Tartarus' detested brood,
Strain upon the leash with yell,
Gnashing fangs that grin for blood;
Atê's hounds, I hear them growl,
Snap and snort, with eyes that flare
Flame, and, hark! ah, how they howl,
Loosed, to spring and rend and tear!
Woe, thrice woe, to him for whom
These dark hunters nose the scent,
These, that in their chase of doom,
Only are with blood content;
Useless is his shrieking cry;
They no stay nor mercy know;
All in vain he seeks to fly;
Theirs the fangs shall drag him low.
Tartarus' detested brood,
Strain upon the leash with yell,
Gnashing fangs that grin for blood;
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Snap and snort, with eyes that flare
Flame, and, hark! ah, how they howl,
Loosed, to spring and rend and tear!
Woe, thrice woe, to him for whom
These dark hunters nose the scent,
These, that in their chase of doom,
Only are with blood content;
Useless is his shrieking cry;
They no stay nor mercy know;
All in vain he seeks to fly;
Theirs the fangs shall drag him low.
ZEUS
Here from Olympus' cloud-girt courts I come,
And in the quiet halls of heaven is peace
And mirth and feasting, and the deep-bossed cups
With nectar bubbling sun from Hebe's hands;
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Caught from the foul and blasting breaths of strife,
The ten years' clash and clang of brazen arms,
With mountains hurtling through the fleeing air,
And earth-fires blazing upward at the Gods,
And Ocean's waves stilled with an awe of fright;
Peace is with restful ease, and hung-up arms,
Soundless, and thirstless spears, unhungering swords,
And, for the roar of Ares and heaven's bolts
Flaming innumerous, thunder-tongued, death-edged,
Are low soft laughs that tell of secret loves,
Ambrosial, sweeter that their bliss is hid,
And Mirths laughed loud, and Dionusos' fires
Fevering the cheek and surging through the blood,
Loud-tongued and many-worded, with fierce joy.
And the white brows of heaven, its fraudful eyes,
Nets to snare hearts and capture them, love's sport,
Are glorified by Aphroditê's breath
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Eros, at all the mischief by them wrought,
Seeing gods, bird-like, limed by looks and lids
And tones and smiles and hardly murmuring sighs,
And I, amid heaven's revels, lap my thoughts
In languor and the easeful joy that knows
In lowest Tartarus, beneath Earth, deep,
Vast strengths, the Earth's most monstrous growths are hurled,
Titanic-limbed, or breathe their howled-up fires
'Neath mountains, heaving upward, vainly fierce,
Prone, brazen-chained, the mock of conquering Zeus.
Yet steal there on my thought deep tones of dread
Earth-muttered from this mountain, tones that tell
Of unborn dangers in the onward hours
That, sleeping, yet shall wake to time's soft tread;
Who spake, unblest? who, boastful, chanting told
Of perils unto me and kindred gods?
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And told in some dark time my rule should owe
Existence unto One? Who is that One?
Lo, in my inmost soul, there restless sleeps
A dream of strange unrest and shapeless fear;
Who cried unto it in my soul's still deeps
And, crying, made it unto waking near?
Ever it murmurs in my thought of One;
Is that One of the Immortals bound or free,
Or of the sad and woe-scourged race of men,
Mortals, to beasts anear, brutish in lusts,
Yet with chained powers that, freed, to bind were hard;
Yet who will train them, as an athlete trains
For course or wrestle in the courts of Zeus?
Yet do I fear this danger, whispered-of,
Lurks in the angry future of this earth,
Should One turn traitor to my heavenly reign
And wake to God-like life men's slumbering souls;
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And powers and knowledge both of good and ill,
And fears that awe them now were then their mock
And we perchance were sacrificeless, starved
Of prayers and songs beseeching, baseless dreads
That cast them to the dust before our ways
And make them shake before us in blind stones
And trees, and the brute beasts and wandering winds
And sunbeams and the rivers, founts and brooks
And all things that, unknowing aught, they feel
A mystery and a marvel. In this dread
Were it not well to slay them from my earth
By Phœbus' arrows, Artemis' white shafts,
Or dread Poseidon's loud floods, whelming all,
Or plagues of monstrous boar and dragon scaled,
Lion more huge than ramps in sultry sands
Or hydra, hundred-headed, or some beast
Born of the ooze and slime of the salt shore,
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Shall this not be and all my fear be slain?
Forethought is safety; they who rule must arm
Their fears with foresight and thus danger scare
Or slay down-beaten. So Prometheus, he
Who with fore-vision strengthened all my strength
Till in the strife with Gods, I God-like smote
And crushed exultant and exultant hurled
To Tartarus or Earth's dark depths and reigned,
Him will I seek and sharpen all my thought
On his, and know if all of Earth I slay
And whether thus I 'scape the peril hid.
Chorus.
STROPHE 1
Chaos was; his the empire ere Time was or Light,
The fleet-footed Hours, the joy-flooding Sun,
The glory of Day's shine, the white lights of Night,
Ere Earth was, ere Ocean, while Heaven there was none,
With Eternity dwelt he, nor knew he the birth
Of his being or rule over void brooding gloom;
With Night and thick Darkness dwelt he ere was Mirth
Or Anguish or Sound until Time came and doom.
Then to Night, his dark daughter, by Gloom, from him sprung,
Were Æther's vast void and the Joy-giver born,
Day, ocean of soft light, whose billows among
Rose the round laughing Earth to know Eve and fresh Morn;
To her grassy bosom did mighty ones cling,
The Mountains, her children, and Heaven bent o'er
Her beauty and round her his vast arms would fling,
And to him, the Terrors, the Titans she bore.
The fleet-footed Hours, the joy-flooding Sun,
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Ere Earth was, ere Ocean, while Heaven there was none,
With Eternity dwelt he, nor knew he the birth
Of his being or rule over void brooding gloom;
With Night and thick Darkness dwelt he ere was Mirth
Or Anguish or Sound until Time came and doom.
Then to Night, his dark daughter, by Gloom, from him sprung,
Were Æther's vast void and the Joy-giver born,
Day, ocean of soft light, whose billows among
Rose the round laughing Earth to know Eve and fresh Morn;
To her grassy bosom did mighty ones cling,
The Mountains, her children, and Heaven bent o'er
Her beauty and round her his vast arms would fling,
And to him, the Terrors, the Titans she bore.
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Heaven gazed on his offspring and feared them, the strong,
The monstrous, the curbless, the fiery Earth powers:
In Earth's womb deep-dungeoned, they raged groaning long,
Till Time leapt to light and grasped rule with the Hours;
And Heaven resigned to his youngest his sway,
And Kronos kept watch on his brethren's wild might,
That evermore paled with their fierce roar the day
And flushed with their fire-breaths the starred gloom of Night;
Then of foam of the blue sea that fairness was born
Beyond fairness, the mother of smiles and wild tears,
April hopes, hot desires, wan despairs smit by scorn,
Aphroditê the subtle, the rose of the years;
Of the soft wool-white tread of the queen of all wiles,
The violet, the sweet thyme, the amaranth came,
And she laughed to the Gods and the Earth, and beguiles
Immortals she flushes with fever and flame.
STROPHE 2The monstrous, the curbless, the fiery Earth powers:
In Earth's womb deep-dungeoned, they raged groaning long,
Till Time leapt to light and grasped rule with the Hours;
And Heaven resigned to his youngest his sway,
And Kronos kept watch on his brethren's wild might,
That evermore paled with their fierce roar the day
And flushed with their fire-breaths the starred gloom of Night;
Then of foam of the blue sea that fairness was born
Beyond fairness, the mother of smiles and wild tears,
April hopes, hot desires, wan despairs smit by scorn,
Aphroditê the subtle, the rose of the years;
Of the soft wool-white tread of the queen of all wiles,
The violet, the sweet thyme, the amaranth came,
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Immortals she flushes with fever and flame.
And Ocean had offspring innumerous, the waves,
Leapers, playful in sunshine, that rage to the breath
Of the roar of the winds and the storms, and sea-caves
Saw us the white nymphs laugh to life free from death,
And one, Heaven's white daughter, the just, oh, how fair!
The light-dealing Themis, Iapetos wed,
And to him did the well-loved a mighty one bear,
Prometheus, by whom the far future is read.
Then the Great Gods, the Bright Ones, were born unto Time,
By Earth, the all-fruitful, and Zeus, God of Gods,
In hand-force and brain-might, all matchless, sublime,
Whose awful brow blessing or woe to man nods.
Leapers, playful in sunshine, that rage to the breath
Of the roar of the winds and the storms, and sea-caves
Saw us the white nymphs laugh to life free from death,
And one, Heaven's white daughter, the just, oh, how fair!
The light-dealing Themis, Iapetos wed,
And to him did the well-loved a mighty one bear,
Prometheus, by whom the far future is read.
Then the Great Gods, the Bright Ones, were born unto Time,
By Earth, the all-fruitful, and Zeus, God of Gods,
In hand-force and brain-might, all matchless, sublime,
Whose awful brow blessing or woe to man nods.
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And Time, who had rule from his ancient Sire torn,
Feared Atê should make that he dealt out, his own,
Devouring his offspring, the young to him born,
Till, for Zeus, Earth's dark guile fed his fierce maw with stone,
And his Sire's doom was his; from Olympus were hurled
The forked bolts of Zeus and, in thunders, his shout;
With him Strength and Force paled with horror the world,
On his foes, Empire and Victory heaped ruin and rout.
But yet the fierce Titans' wild might had raged still,
Fell, horrible, endless, had not Forethought given
To him Rule and Conquest. Boast Zeus as he will,
To Prometheus he owes calm and throned hours in heaven,
Oh, wise are the sage who, cool-brained, grasp success!
Oh, where sits the throned not a tyrant in hate!
Will the High One of Heaven his throner caress,
Or senseless, ungrateful, make misery his fate?
Feared Atê should make that he dealt out, his own,
Devouring his offspring, the young to him born,
Till, for Zeus, Earth's dark guile fed his fierce maw with stone,
And his Sire's doom was his; from Olympus were hurled
The forked bolts of Zeus and, in thunders, his shout;
With him Strength and Force paled with horror the world,
On his foes, Empire and Victory heaped ruin and rout.
But yet the fierce Titans' wild might had raged still,
Fell, horrible, endless, had not Forethought given
To him Rule and Conquest. Boast Zeus as he will,
To Prometheus he owes calm and throned hours in heaven,
Oh, wise are the sage who, cool-brained, grasp success!
Oh, where sits the throned not a tyrant in hate!
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Or senseless, ungrateful, make misery his fate?
MAN,
prostrate on the earth
Oh, Sun-God, pierce me not with serpent stings!
Lo, in the dust, I grovel and beseech
Thy mercy! Thou, O Frost-God of the night,
Fix not thy fangs upon this shrinking flesh
And wake me howling! and thou, Hunger-God,
Gnaw me not in thine anger! I will leap
On the fleet deer and rend it limb from limb
To glut thee, or, if it, through fleetness, 'scape,
To satisfy thy cries, the shaggy strength
Of the huge bear I'll grapple, claw to claw
And tooth to tooth fierce rending. O ye Powers,
Ye that with racking aches torment me sore,
See how I crouch to you and grip the earth
Prostrate with wondering worship, I your slave.
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To torment, well I know, for your fierce joy,
For ye enjoy my groans or ye would stay
Your tortures. Hear! if cruel pains and cries
Of woe rise to you grateful, I will seize
Out of my brethren, one to glad your ears
And eyes with death-throes slowly dealt, that ye
May have full gladness, and the scent of blood
Slowly out-dripped from agonising veins
May fill your pleasured nostrils through red hours;
Can I do more to make my cries avail
That ye would spare me? I asked not to live;
Ye gave me breath and being. Why? that I
Might fill your days with mirth at these my pains,
Yet mixed with gladness, for I too am glad
Feeling me strong of arm and fleet of foot
And hard of heart what time I dare to face
The charging boar and brain him with rent tree,
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Upon the gnashing wolf and tawny strength
Of thick-maned lions, monsters with the roar
Of fork-flashed scaring thunders; when I fill
My mouth with sweetness of new-hunted flesh
From beast or quivering limb of my own kind
Slain by my hand, then share I of your joy,
Ye whom death gladdens. When I lap red blood
Or, thirsting, fountain wave or brook drink in,
Then is mine gladness. Yet know I a joy
More like to yours, in the fell joy of fight,
Of bloody conflict, whose dread end is death.
Dear 'tis to me to bask in forest shade
When, Sun-God, thou art highest, high above,
And dear when, Frost-God, thou dost cease to gnaw
Through dark and light and only bit'st in dews
Of night and dost not chain the running streams,
And come mild warmth and blossoms. Dear are too
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Forth to my hunger and the luscious gifts
Of purpled bunches of the sun-filled vine;
These do I utter thanks for, Fearful Ones,
And thoughts I think that hate and curse you when
My days are torments; these I utter not,
Knowing how cruel is your bitter wrath
In life and, it may be, beyond, in death;
If I beseech you not with yells and cries
Enough and bleeding sacrifice and groans
Sufficient, make me, Fierce Ones, know your will
And I will hear your bidding and obey,
Even if to gash my flesh and make my blood
And moans a pleasure to you, be your joy.
Or, if ye will not spare me, let still death
Blind my clear eyes, nor let me wake again,
Since I may wake into some world as drear,
If ye be tyrants of more lives than this,
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For ever let me be where are no dreams
And rest to dust and know not of you more.
Chorus.
STROPHE
How fleeting are these mortal lives!
From night to night they shoot as flies a star
Loosed from its place and not a trace survives
When death has slain these things that scarcely are;
How like are they to cloud-shades racing
Over sunned and shadowed plains,
Which swift winds and beams are chasing,
Here and fled, and nought remains,
And yet, ah me! how is this little span
Of mortal breathing, this short dream of years,
Filled with vain hopes and childish fears of man
And baseless blisses and unnumbered tears.
From night to night they shoot as flies a star
Loosed from its place and not a trace survives
When death has slain these things that scarcely are;
How like are they to cloud-shades racing
Over sunned and shadowed plains,
Which swift winds and beams are chasing,
Here and fled, and nought remains,
And yet, ah me! how is this little span
Of mortal breathing, this short dream of years,
Filled with vain hopes and childish fears of man
And baseless blisses and unnumbered tears.
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Lo, naked from the womb he springs,
To shiver in Earth's freezing air;
No clothing plumes, no furs he brings,
But instant needs another's care;
Nor owns he fangs with which to slay,
Nor beak nor claws that clutch and rend;
With borrowed arms he smites his prey,
Arms that the crags and forests lend.
Does beast or bird at self-made shadows shake,
At aught of unseen terror that but seems?
No, men alone from their vain terrors make
Spectres to shake at, shaped of dreads and dreams.
To shiver in Earth's freezing air;
No clothing plumes, no furs he brings,
But instant needs another's care;
Nor owns he fangs with which to slay,
Nor beak nor claws that clutch and rend;
With borrowed arms he smites his prey,
Arms that the crags and forests lend.
Does beast or bird at self-made shadows shake,
At aught of unseen terror that but seems?
No, men alone from their vain terrors make
Spectres to shake at, shaped of dreads and dreams.
THE FATES
Ah, ye see but with your eyes,
See Man but starting his great race to run;
Our sight on through the lustrous future flies,
On to the goal of times but now begun,
And, oh, what vision meets our prophet gaze,
As, with the growth of ages, our clear eyes
See Man grown God-like with the coming days,
Less than a God alone since still he dies.
Lo, power is his that, from his fruitful brain,
Leaps armed to conquer all things and to break
All nature and her powers to bear his reign,
The slaves of him whose throne they may not shake.
See Man but starting his great race to run;
Our sight on through the lustrous future flies,
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And, oh, what vision meets our prophet gaze,
As, with the growth of ages, our clear eyes
See Man grown God-like with the coming days,
Less than a God alone since still he dies.
Lo, power is his that, from his fruitful brain,
Leaps armed to conquer all things and to break
All nature and her powers to bear his reign,
The slaves of him whose throne they may not shake.
Earth yields him tribute of her oil and corn,
Her forests, toiling iron, marble, gold;
Her steeds, her lowing kine for him are born,
And the fleeced bleaters of the field and fold;
And the innumerous billows are his slaves
That bear his burdens and his terrors waft,
His smiting arms that scourge his subject waves
With oars that make them bondsmen to his craft;
His are war's horrors; his its floods of steel,
The charging phalanx and the shouting field,
The patriot hearts that for their country feel
'Tis sweet to fall its name from shame to shield.
Her forests, toiling iron, marble, gold;
Her steeds, her lowing kine for him are born,
And the fleeced bleaters of the field and fold;
And the innumerous billows are his slaves
That bear his burdens and his terrors waft,
His smiting arms that scourge his subject waves
With oars that make them bondsmen to his craft;
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The charging phalanx and the shouting field,
The patriot hearts that for their country feel
'Tis sweet to fall its name from shame to shield.
His are the shouted victories of peace,
Olympian glories through the wide earth rung,
His the winged words whose flight shall never cease
And thunders from the tongues of wisdom flung,
His too the awful shapes of the dread stage,
Of Heroes, Gods and Virgins, Goddess-fair,
Dark deeds that loose the Furies' righteous rage
While circling choral song awes the charmed listening air;
Yes, Man's shall be the fever and the bliss
Of song that fires the blood more than fierce wine;
The Gods shall crown his glories all with this,
And with song's holy power the mortal make divine.
And his clear eyes shall see with Wisdom's sight
And know the true from false, the false from true,
And he shall judge the Gods and worship sacred right
And scorn the unjust Heaven he served when time was new.
So, unto our seeing eyes,
All the bright fated future rises clear,
And the far is as the near,
And, lo, Man runs the race and grasps the prize.
But let the pictured vision fade;
See, weak and blind, he treads this hour his path,
And vengeful Zeus his way has rugged made,
And One must suffer sore to arm him 'gainst Wrong's wrath.
Olympian glories through the wide earth rung,
His the winged words whose flight shall never cease
And thunders from the tongues of wisdom flung,
His too the awful shapes of the dread stage,
Of Heroes, Gods and Virgins, Goddess-fair,
Dark deeds that loose the Furies' righteous rage
While circling choral song awes the charmed listening air;
Yes, Man's shall be the fever and the bliss
Of song that fires the blood more than fierce wine;
The Gods shall crown his glories all with this,
And with song's holy power the mortal make divine.
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And know the true from false, the false from true,
And he shall judge the Gods and worship sacred right
And scorn the unjust Heaven he served when time was new.
So, unto our seeing eyes,
All the bright fated future rises clear,
And the far is as the near,
And, lo, Man runs the race and grasps the prize.
But let the pictured vision fade;
See, weak and blind, he treads this hour his path,
And vengeful Zeus his way has rugged made,
And One must suffer sore to arm him 'gainst Wrong's wrath.
PROMETHEUS
O thou Engendering One, that with thy flame
Dost fill the womb of Earth with fruitfulness,
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Brightest, thou brother of my mighty sire,
Thee do I call on! Unto thee I cry,
For thou, O flashing Sun, didst with thy fire
Inflame the dust whence primal mankind sprung
And were, and thou hast seen the things men are.
Will'st thou, O sun, such things thy births should be?
Twofold man's nature. One the dull earth gave,
The clay that clothes him and makes worm and beast
Hail him as brother. From his form he knows
The common lusts and brute desires of life,
Hunger and thirst and the hot needs of love,
And lawless will to glut his wrath with death
Of his furred fellows of the caves and woods
And of all feathered things that winnow air,
Or bright-scaled lives that flash through ocean's ways,
Or rivers hasting to the embracing seas,
And rage of slaughter of his brethren, men,
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Thou seest him, All-beholder, filled with awe
Of all things, for thou know'st he wakes to life
Wisdomless, knowing nought of what Earth bears,
Moving or fixed, finding in all he sees
And touches, marvels, as an infant shall
When come the longed-for after days to be.
So all is mystery to him, all is dread,
Nor knows he, naked, how to fend the frosts
Of winter from him or thy fiery gaze,
Nor clothing has he save the bloody skins
Torn from the beasts he rends, his fireless food,
No dwelling builds he, housed in icy caves.
No dreams has he nor thoughts above the brutes
He springs on, hungering. Memory and hope
As yet he knows not. Yet within him sleeps
That other nature that thou didst bestow,
The fire that shall be to him God-like soul
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Strengths known to make the might of nature his
And the Earth-powers his bondslaves, thy own fire
The strengths of winds, of waters, and of seas,
Earth's metals and her bosom's power to bear
Or fruits or herbs or corn—all gladsome food,
The forests' unhewn roofs his hands shall rear
To home him or the hymns he gives his gods,
All these shall serve him when his soul grasps life
And his thoughts climb by usage, strength to strength,
And he has knowledge of the times of stars
And circling seasons, and of numbers hid
Now from him, and of letters that shall fix
All time as present and all knowledge sure,
Not fleeting with the moment, dead at birth,
But knowing life immortal and all time.
Shall he not be, O Bright One, even as thou
That flashest on all darkness and it flees,
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Shall he not be as the high Godheads are,
Gazing through all Time bears and parting good
From evil, that to cling to, this to shun,
And scaling heaven with hands of love and right
And doing justice for its own clear sake,
Or whether it brings to him gain or loss,
Pleasure or grieving? Thou that bring'st the day
And slay'st all sadness, Thou all-conquering Joy,
Shalt through his lit soul flash the fevering life
That from his lips shall leap in sweet-tongued songs
And hymns rejoicing, dear to Gods and men.
What though the Thunderer fear man thus a God
Shall cease to dread his thunders and to crawl
And grovel blind before his golden stool;
Better is wise sweet awe than slavish dread.
Let heaven with mercy and with tending love
Bow down the thankful knees of those it rules
32
Not sad with griefs unneeded and wild cries
Of agonies that should be griefs to Gods;
Yet be Zeus mild or ruthless, I change not;
Pitying, I gift the coming days of man
With clear-eyed knowledge that shall make him blest
If he use wisely, righteously, my gifts;
Let Zeus upon him all his thunders hurl
And still afflict him, yet, amid his groans,
He shall be even as I, rock to endure,
With soul that to the hail of direst woes
Is adamant, a crag pain's billows rave
And break themselves against in tossing spume,
But move not, so shall he, even while his brows
Are thunder-scored, lift to injustice up
A front that bows not and accusing eyes;
And I, that on me take not woes of men
But dreader, I, foreknowing this and all,
33
That fronts me, looking still to that far day
When Zeus shall kneel to me, not I to him,
And I shall, glad, drink in his eager breath
Of humbleness and suing and will rule
Right for myself and men, ere I relent,
And bind him to reign justly, dealing love,
Not mingled love and hate, to all that is.
I go; now shall he well know what I dare.
Zeus and Prometheus.
ZEUS
Thou that foreknowest, hast thou aught to tell?
PROMETHEUS
What can I tell thou knowest not, All-wise?
ZEUS
I that am wisdom, yet would know thy thought.
34
Ask then thy question. Say, what wouldst thou know?
ZEUS
My father cast his father down from rule.
PROMETHEUS
And thou dethron'st him who thy father was.
ZEUS
What if one born of me aspire to reign?
PROMETHEUS
Thou hast thy thunders. Hast thou too thy fears?
ZEUS
Fore-fearing caution would prevent all dread.
PROMETHEUS
Thou fearest not? then why should caution be?
35
Guileful, I do command thee, say thy thought.
PROMETHEUS
What if I close my lips, what wilt thou do?
ZEUS
Have I not rule of thee as of all gods?
PROMETHEUS
Me, Justice rules and Fate that rules thy rule.
ZEUS
Am I not Justice? and shall I not rule?
PROMETHEUS
Ay, art thou Justice? then I sue to thee.
ZEUS
Give me the thing I ask from thee, then ask.
36
Forethought trusts not, but takes before it gives.
ZEUS
Fraudful, I do distrust thee. Tell thy wish.
PROMETHEUS
Thou seest all things. Thou art Justice. Look.
ZEUS
I see all things that are. What should I mark?
PROMETHEUS
Thou, Just One, lookest thou on wrong or right?
ZEUS
That which is done is right, since that I do.
PROMETHEUS
And seest thou not Man that thou hast made?
37
Why should I note him, thing of dust and death?
PROMETHEUS
Is he but one of earth's unthinking breaths?
ZEUS
Is he not one of myriad shapes of life?
PROMETHEUS
Him, mat'st thou with thy meaner handiwork?
ZEUS
Is not my will, the eagle, fashioned well?
PROMETHEUS
Is Man the fellow of thy bolt of air?
ZEUS
Seest thou the speed I made, the flashing steed?
38
Thy work is good, a wonder and an awe.
ZEUS
The lion roars, the snake coils from my thought.
PROMETHEUS
All these are of thee, yet these are not Man.
ZEUS
Each is a mystery to thee. Is Man more?
PROMETHEUS
Man is not of them. Hear'st thou not his prayers?
ZEUS
Were it not well, his senseless cries were stilled?
PROMETHEUS
Speech is thy gift. Surely thy gifts are good.
39
If right still rule them. Hast thou heard his words?
PROMETHEUS
I listened and I heard him basely crouch.
ZEUS
Should he that makes not awe the thing he's made?
PROMETHEUS
Made him? how made him? free or thy whipped slave?
ZEUS
Do not the immortals live for me, their lord?
PROMETHEUS
Know gods not joy upon the thrones of heaven?
ZEUS
And fear before me? and shall Man not fear?
40
All fear is baseness. Shouldst thou rule through fear?
ZEUS
What! should Man think upon me and not dread?
PROMETHEUS
Is it for this thou dealest to him pain?
ZEUS
I give him gifts diverse, even as I will.
PROMETHEUS
Why givest thou to him the gifts he hates?
ZEUS
Shall I unveil my thought to thee and him?
PROMETHEUS
If it be fair, why should thy will be veiled?
41
Why should I not give, even as I give?
PROMETHEUS
Hark! hear'st thou not, O Zeus, those woeful cries?
ZEUS
I hear them, hearing all things. What are they?
PROMETHEUS
Thou sayest thou art just and giv'st thou woe?
ZEUS
Why not? Who shall declare my gifts are ill?
PROMETHEUS
I, that have pity for thy creature, Man.
ZEUS
All life takes all I give, nor holds it ill.
42
Ah, Man can judge thee, weigh thee in his scales.
ZEUS
Blind is he. Wouldst thou make his eyes to see?
PROMETHEUS
Gifts would I give to him that thou giv'st not.
ZEUS
Fling not my thunders. Thou hast seen them smite.
PROMETHEUS
Ay, they smote wrong, now will they silence right?
ZEUS
Tell me the thing I ask. Speak not of this.
PROMETHEUS
What if my gifts give unto Man his might?
43
Dar'st thou to threat? Shall I have fear of Man?
PROMETHEUS
Rule justly; thou shalt have his ceaseless love.
ZEUS
Meddle not with him. Let him be as now.
PROMETHEUS
What I will make him, that I clear foresee.
ZEUS
Shall I not awe him always? tell me that.
PROMETHEUS
What will be will be; I will give him sight.
ZEUS
To sin with. Will he, smitten, bless thy care?
44
Better he see and suffer than be blind.
ZEUS
Wise, wouldst thou make him curst, arraigning me?
PROMETHEUS
The tyrant only dreads his subjects' thought.
ZEUS
Dost thou conspire with him against my reign?
PROMETHEUS
I answer only this, I do no wrong.
ZEUS
Right can it be to do what I forbid?
PROMETHEUS
Yes, when thou dost forbid right to be done.
45
Thou shalt not make this thing of death my dread.
PROMETHEUS
What wilt thou do, thou that afflictest sore?
ZEUS
What if I slay him, dungeon him in death?
PROMETHEUS
I know what thou canst do, and all foresee.
ZEUS
Tell me, thou wilt not arm Man for my foe?
PROMETHEUS
What if I arm him but to bear thy wrongs?
ZEUS
I do forewarn thee, do not Zeus defy.
46
Forethought forearms me. I foresee the worst.
ZEUS
And my dread judgments wilt thou, frenzied, dare?
PROMETHEUS
Who dares endure is free all ills to dare.
ZEUS
Dread are my torments. Thou wilt this repent.
PROMETHEUS
Right must I do, and thou must work thy will.
PROMETHEUS
Thus still 'tis willed that it shall be,
That power unbridled shall be wrong,
For aye in heaven and earth we see
The tyrant never mild for long;
47
With fumes of frenzy mads the brain
And beckons on dread judgment's hour
And cautioning wisdom warns in vain.
CHORUS
Do ye not dread of highest Zeus
To utter breath of hateful scorn?
Wise were it that your lips refuse
To speak such utterance of them born.
Woe unto all who, over-wise,
Dare unto unchained rule to tell
Truth's bitter words; still terror cries
To such, ‘Be dumb, while yet 'tis well.’
PROMETHEUS
New is this Zeus's haughty sway,
And drunk with pride he shakes the reins
48
Nor thinks that rule o'er him remains.
Yet, at a whisper of the lips,
See ye not how an unshaped dread
Upon his boastful soul fear slips
And scares him wrong's rough paths to tread.
CHORUS
Is he not Zeus, the god of gods,
The awful ruler, throned o'er thrones,
Who life and death to all things nods,
Celestial bliss, Tartarean groans?
Who shall prescribe his awful ways,
Or who dare hold for wrong his will?
Or deal he bliss or woe, but praise,
But trembling praise should laud him still.
49
So from weak things of heaven and earth
Who fear his wrath, let worship rise;
Slaves' cringing moves my scorn and mirth;
Their fear wrung flatteries I despise;
Let gods shake in his savage sight;
Let men for woes give praise and prayer;
My soul his torments cannot fright
Though me I know he will not spare.
CHORUS
Yet to the depths of silence fly
Our thoughts, nor utterance from them slips;
Better we, in our praising, lie
Than cry down tortures with mad lips;
What if stern Zeus injustice deal
And bitter make men's fleeting breath,
50
For these, the scourged from birth to death.
PROMETHEUS
Ye speak as those the seeming wise
To justice false, to truth untrue;
For Man, my soul his wrath defies
Unmoved whate'er the Tyrant do;
Foreknown art thou, O bitter path,
The ingrate wills; thou shalt be trod;
My gifts shall make, despite his wrath,
Man strong through wisdom, like a God.
Prometheus and Man.
Man entering from the cavern.
PROMETHEUS
I cry to thee, O Man, from where from heaven's
Bleak skies thou burrowest, from thy cave, come forth.
51
What new voice calls to me? O Mighty One,
Hold thou thine hand, nor torture me, nor slay.
For thou art Godlike, thou art not of men,
My fellows; I will grovel to thee; I.
PROMETHEUS
Rise up. Why shouldst thou thus crouch to my feet?
I am not Zeus, the God that gives thee life
And all that drives thy cries up to his throne.
MAN
Yet let me clasp thy feet, thou God of good,
For I do cease to dread thee; in thine eyes
I see not hate but gentleness and looks
That cheer, not smite me. Oh, I will obey
Thy thrice-blest bidding. Canst thou make it sure
Those other Torturing Ones their hands will stay?
52
Those arms are deadly should they crash out blows,
Wounds, or dull death. Surely Zeus dreads thy strength!
PROMETHEUS
Listen! I am not mighty as this Zeus
Who sends thee aches and cramps and all things sharp
And bitter, saddening all the laughs he lends.
MAN
Oh, I did hope that thou couldst end this Zeus,
As thou dost name him, he that racks me thus.
Does he rack thee? Ah, but art thou his slave,
That fraudful dost beguile me of hard words
Of cutting truth, that me thou may'st betray
To him, thy tyrant? Oh, sting not his wrath.
Let my sharp words have gone, keen gusts, but winds
That howled and are not. I will show thee fruit
53
Thy rage of hunger with this fresh-rent flesh.
I dare not threaten thee, for I were slain,
Clenched in thy grip or bone-smashed by thy blows.
Speak! say thou wilt not bear on high my hate.
PROMETHEUS
Thou babblest idly. I am here thy friend,
Pitying this more than half-curst lot of thine,
And I will give to thee all I can give,
And that I hold not little.
MAN
What giv'st thou?
PROMETHEUS
Look on this hollow wand my hand has brought.
MAN
Is it a God? must I its presence fear?
54
Heard'st thou not me? I said I am thy friend.
MAN
Ay, so thou said'st. Oh, mayst thou not be false!
But this thy hollow wand, what holds it?
PROMETHEUS
Fire.
MAN
What's fire? a thing of life? Ah me, I see
Its red bright tongue, forked as a serpent's, dart
From its round mouth, and, ah! how sharp it stings!
PROMETHEUS
Yet it shall glad thee; touch it not, but bring
Leaves, twigs, and smallest branches for its food.
And thou must feed it always, nevermore
55
From his own hearth and doomed me to his wrath,
For this bright theft that here I bring to thee.
MAN
Ah, how it seizes on these fallen growths
Of this rough mountain's forests! as it flares,
How the twigs crackle in its fiery jaws!
How will it serve me?
PROMETHEUS
It is foe to frosts,
And winter, so we name the time of cold;
Hold thy hands to it. Is its warmth not good?
MAN
Oh, I do bless thee, Mighty Stranger God,
For this thy gift divine. Can it do more?
56
Beast-like, till now, thou hast on raw flesh fed;
Heap on more wood; that venison on it lay,
New-slaughtered. Wait; thou shalt taste daintiest food,
Fit for Olympus. See, how the red blood
Roasts to rich brownness. Taste now this fire's feast.
MAN
Oh, I will worship thee! The luscious meat!
PROMETHEUS
And greater things than this thy fire shall do.
Look! this is clay. See, how I show thy hands
Fitly to shape it to a furnace thus,
And this dull rock, so weighty! that I stuff
Its maw with, see! all this I gird with fire,
Beneath, around it, and, in channelled sand
I now instruct thee to shape hollow moulds,
57
And cool and harden in them into shapes
Diverse as are their uses; these shall give
A sword, a spear-point, to thy hand, sharp arms
'Gainst beast or foeman, this, an arrow's head,
Shot from bent wood and sinew, death to deer,
Flying, or hare fleet-footed, or fierce roar
Springing to rend thee, and to soaring wings,
And, from these matrices, these iron blades
I lift, the spade's keen wedge and the sharp share
That shall the earth's waves furrow as the keel
Ploughs ocean's plains, and these shall give thee gain
Of tilth and waving harvests, vintage feasts
And the grey olive's fruitage, apples red
With summer's sunsets and all growths of flowers
In blossomed orchards and in gardens flushed.
Wilt thou home with thee this well-toiling slave?
58
Hast thou more gifts? thou makest me a God
In wisdom. Oh, Thou Blest One, hast thou more?
PROMETHEUS
And fire shall cast for thee the hewing axe.
So shalt thou fling the tall pine and strong elm,
And cleave them, plank-wise, and the dripping earth
No more shall house thee, but, from thine own hands,
Thou shalt build seemly homes where fire shall dwell
With warmth and dryness with thee all thy days,
While tempests round thy fortress, baffled, roar,
And all the hosts of snows sift on thy roof
Nor chill thee, nor the lash of driven rains
Falls on thee. Wilt thou not laugh loud, so housed?
MAN
Again I bless thee, Blest One. Hast thou more?
59
And this, thine axe, shall float thee on the waves
Where the dread might of Oceanus reigns,
And whence with answering choirs and sweet-voiced hymns,
Glad flames of torches and the shout of Gods
Forth from her virgin home, the green lit depths
Of deepest waters, I my sea-born led,
Blushing, my bridal-won Hesione,
For the same timbers as shall lay thy roof
Shall, so I'll show thee, rib thy galleys' lengths,
Thy stately steeds thou rid'st across the foam,
Gathering thee treasures from all lands and climes,
Or smiting all the white-churned waves with war.
MAN
Shall I thus ride the waters, Mightiest One?
60
Ay, and thy slaves, the winds, shall speed thee on
With sails that thou from thread-spun flax shalt weave:
For I will show thee how the spindle gives
The twisted twine and how the shuttle flies
Cross-wise and yields thee raiment from the loom.
And I will teach thee how thy white-fleeced sheep
Thy shears shall bare to give thee wealth of wool
To warm thee, woven. Thou shalt tame the steed
For thee, its rider, and the ox thy goad
Shall quicken, ploughing up thy fruitful fields.
MAN
Can there be more for Man? Hast thou more gifts?
PROMETHEUS
See; I have taught thee all thy body's needs
To satisfy with housing, robes and food.
61
And higher blessings? I will train thy thoughts
To strength; thou shalt see with clear inner eyes
All knowledge and all beauty, Earth's and Heaven's,
And shalt be keen to part the voice of right
From wildering wrong's, and, hearing, thou shalt cleave
To right's clear teachings and be calmly just,
Not serving Heaven with abjectness, but eyes
That dare to clearly scan its secret ways
And love its justice, and love that alone
If Zeus be harsh and send thee unearned woe.
MAN
Me, holds he sinless that I take thy gifts?
PROMETHEUS
Care thou not for his thunders, armed with right.
62
Not blind or cripple, lest its use disturb
His perfect peace. Be thy heart hard as mine
To look down, with endurance, unjust wrath,
For Right not even Zeus himself can kill.
MAN
Can I be Man, now changed as thus I am,
Soul-free through knowledge, gifted with all power?
PROMETHEUS
Run thou the open course before thy feet
And grasp its glories and its golden gains;
All is for him who wills. Endure. Enjoy.
MAN
And thou, what seest thou in thy onward path?
63
Hate that inflicts. Strength that, through right, endures
And conquers Zeus with patience and with pride,
Not empty boasting which but brings its fall,
But pride in justice known and firmly done.
What I have done, that I have, seeing, done,
And thinking of thy gains shall ease my pains.
| Prometheus The Fire-Giver | |