No More Learning

FATE'S ACCOMPLISHMENT. 299
Electro, — I
Kind gods, do not curse ye any more.
[Snatches the ax from the altar, and strikes Iphigenia.
Die, hatefullest !
[Iphigenia falls.
O drunkenness of joy !
Aye, moan. Thy moans are music to mine ears.
Orestes [entering] —
Eyes ! what do ye behold ?
Electra — Eurycles — Electra —
Orestes !
Prince !
O crown of life !
Off ! off ! abominable ! O temple, fall upon us ! bury us !
Electra ! wretch detestable !
Iphigenia — Electra !
Hasten and kiss me ere it be too late !
Electra —
Orestes, to this sudden shock of joy
My whole frame thrills responsive,
My full heart's
Glad clamor in my bosom silences
All dissonancy, and I do not ask,
How here ? how sped ? how saved ? how taken for lost ? Or why thou spurnest my embrace, the while
Thou kneelest to caress a murderer.
[Rising.
Orestes —
O day of happiness ! Orestes! clasp —
[Dies. Orestes throws himself upon the body.
Orestes [not regarding Electra] —
O speak, look, make some sign, or only breathe !
Electra —
How, when thou deign'st no look or word to me ?
Orestes —
Thou slayest me, counterfeiting to be slain.
Electra —
Met ever brother with a greeting like this ?
Orestes —
Woe ! woe ! it is most certain she is dead. Peace, execrable, red with sister's blood !
Electra —
Orestes, thou art mad or mockest me.
What ravest thou of sisters and their blood ? Look upon me, thou hast no sister else.
Orestes —
Too true the word thou spakest then, accursed ! Yet rather say I have no sister at all,
300
FATE'S ACCOMPLISHMENT.
For never will I hail thee sister more. Electro, —
Alas ! alas ! the Fury grasps thee again !
Too long have I perceived thou knowest me not O hide thee in my bosom, ere she gaze
Thy heart cold with her petrifying eyes 1
Orestes —
I
Electro, [to Iphigenia] —
see indeed a Fury, seeing thee.
Abominable ! more hateful than I
Who thought thee but his murderer, for then Most surely I had kissed him by the Styx. But thou hast stolen his love away from me And how to win it back I do not know.
Orestes —
Thou sayest well : not the abyss of Acheron Could part us with a chasm like thy crime.
Electro —
Why ravest thou, and idly talk'st of crime ?
I have slain who would have slain thee, have I not ?
deemed.
Orestes —
No, thou hast murdered my deliverer.
Electro —
What ? not the ministrant of Artemis ?
Orestes —
Yea ; and thy sister, for thy better knowledge.
Electro —
O foolish ! Deem'st thou her Chrysothemis ?
Orestes —
Chrysothemis sleeps sound in Argive earth.
Electro —
And all men know Iphigenia slain At Aulis, by the vengeful Artemis.
Orestes —
Thou art near the mark ; yet call the place Delphi, not Aulis, and the murderer of blood Electra, and no longer Artemis.
For Artemis was merciful, and caught
The victim away in darkness, and the Greeks Slaughtered a hind, esteeming it the maid.
But she was rapt to Tauris, there became
The priestess of the sanctuary, gave
Me life and sweet return, for herself took death, For thee, most miserable, fratricide.
Electra —
Apollo, how art thou avenged of me !
^SCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS. 301
PROMETHEUS.
By . S8CHYLUS.
(Version of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. )
[Elizabeth Barrett was born in Durham, England, 1809, and became deeply versed in classics and philosophy, whioh inspired and perraded her earli est work, the translation of " Prometheus Bound " (1833, rewritten 1850) and " The Seraphim " (1838). An invalid for many years, and always delicate, she was much secluded ; but having become attached to Robert Browning through her poem " Lady Geraldine's Courtship," eloped with and married him in 1846. They lived mostly in Italy till her death at Florence in 1861. Her most massive production, full of her best thought, feeling, and art, is the great verse novel " Aurora Leigh " (1856). " Casa Guidi Windows " (1848-1851) deals with the revolution of 1848. The sequence "Sonnets from the Portuguese" is most widely known by name. Of the others, "The Cry of the Children," "The Swan's Nest," and " A Musical Instrument" are deservedly popular. ]
Chorus —
Remote the veil from all things and relate The story to us, — of what crime accused, Zeus smites thee with dishonorable 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 gods 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 gods forever, — I, who brought
The counsel I thought meetest, could not move The Titans, children of the Heaven and Earth, What time, disdaining in their rugged souls
My subtle machinations, they assumed
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 gods Should not prevail by strength and violence
But by guile only. When I told them so,
302
-ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
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 Zeui
As willing to receive her. Tartarus, With its abysmal cloister of the Dark,
Because I
The antique Chronos and his siding hosts,
And, by that counsel helped, the king of gods
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 gods
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 god
Resisted such desire except myself.
I
From meditated ruin deep as hell !
For which wrong I am bent down in these pangs Dreadful to suffer, mournful to behold,
And I, who pitied man, am thought myself
dared it !
I
drew mortals back to light,
gave that counsel, covers up
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.
To fly this sight ; and, now I gaze on
sicken inwards. Prometheus —
— must Chorus
be a sad
To my friends, indeed, sight.
And didst thou sin
No more than so
Prometheus — did restrain besides
My mortals from premeditating death. Chorus —
How didst thou medicine the plague fear of death Prometheus —
set blind Hopes to inhabit in their house.
Iyearned before
III
?
? I
it,
^SCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
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 pass 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 neighboring 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 ;
804 -ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
•— Prometheus
••#•••
And I drop to the rugged ground and there Await the tale of thy despair.
Beseech you, think not I am silent thus
Through pride or scorn. I only gnaw my heart With meditation, seeing myself so wronged.
For see — their honors to these new-made gods, What other gave but I, and dealt them out
With distribution ? Ay — but here I am dumb ! For here, I should repeat your knowledge to you, If I spake aught. List rather to the deeds
I did for mortals ; how, being fools before,
made them wise and true in aim of soul. I—
And let me tell you not as taunting men,
But teaching you the intention of my gifts,
How, first beholding, they beheld in vain,
And hearing, heard not, but, like shapes in dreams, Mixed all things wildly down the tedious time,
Nor knew to build a house against the sun
With wickered sides, nor any woodcraft knew,
But lived, like silly ants, beneath the ground
In hollow caves unsunned. There, came to them No steadfast sign of winter, nor of spring Flower-perfumed, nor of summer full of fruit,
But blindly and lawlessly they did all things,
Until I taught them how the stars do rise
And set in mystery, and devised for them
Number, the inducer of philosophies,
The synthesis of Letters, and, beside,
The artificer of all things, Memory,
That sweet Muse mother. I was first to yoke
The servile beasts in couples, carrying
An heirdom of man's burdens on their backs.
I joined to chariots, steeds, that love the bit
They champ at — the chief pomp of golden ease. And none but I originated ships,
The seamen's chariots, wandering on the brine With linen wings. And I — oh, miserable ! —
Who did devise for mortals all these arts,
Have no device left now to save myself
From the woe I suffer.
Chorus — Most unseemly woe Thou sufferest, and dost stagger from the sense Bewildered ! like a bad leech falling sick
-ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
Thou art faint at soul, and canst not find the drugs
Required to save thyself.
Prometheus — Hearken the rest,
And marvel further, what more arts and means I did invent, — this, greatest: if a man
Fell sick, there was no cure, nor esculent
Nor chrism nor liquid, but for lack of drugs Men pined and wasted, till I showed them all Those mixtures of emollient remedies
Whereby they might be rescued from disease. I fixed the various rules of mantic art, Discerned the vision from the common dream, Instructed them in vocal auguries
Hard to interpret, and defined as plain
The wayside omens, — flights of crook-clawed birds, Showed which are, by their nature, fortunate,
And which not so, and what the food of each,
And what the hates, affections, social needs,
Of all to one another, — taught what sign
Of visceral lightness, colored to a shade,
May charm the genial gods, and what fair spots Commend the lung and liver. Burning so
The limbs encased in fat, and the long chine,
I led my mortals on to an art abstruse,
And cleared their eyes to the image in the fire,
Erst filmed in dark. Enough said now of this.
For the other helps of man hid underground,
The iron and the brass, silver and gold,
Can any dare affirm he found them out
Before me ? none, I know ! unless he choose
To lie in his vaunt. In one word learn the whole, —
That all arts came to mortals from Prometheus. Chorus —
Give mortals now no inexpedient help, Neglecting thine own sorrow. I have hope still To see thee, breaking from the fetter here, Stand up as strong as Zeus.
Prometheus — This ends not thus, The oracular fate ordains. I must be bowed
By infinite woes and pangs, to escape this chain. Necessity is stronger than mine art.
Chorus —
Who holds the helm of that Necessity ?
Prometheus —
The threefold Fates and the unforgetting Furies.
tol. in. — 20
306 . ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
Ohorua —
Is Zeus less absolute than these are ?
Prometheus — Tea, And therefore cannot fly what is ordained.
Chorus —
What is ordained for Zeus, except to be A king forever ?
Prometheus — 'Tis too early yet For thee to learn it : ask no more.
Chorus — Perhaps
Thy secret may be something holy ? Prometheus —
Turn In silence. For by that same secret kept,
To another matter : this, it is not time To speak abroad, but utterly to veil
'scape this chain's dishonor and its woe. ##•**•
I •
Hermes —I speak to thee, the sophist, the talker down
Of scorn by scorn, the sinner against gods,
The reverencer of men, the thief of fire, —
I speak to thee and adjure thee ! Zeus requires Thy declaration of what marriage rite
Heemes enters.
Thus moves thy vaunt and shall hereafter cause His fall from empire. Do not wrap thy speech In riddles, but speak clearly ! Never cast Ambiguous paths, Prometheus, for my feet, Since Zeus, thou mayst perceive, is scarcely won To mercy by such means.
Prometheus — A speech well-mouthed In the utterance, and full-minded in the sense,
As doth befit a servant of the gods !
New gods, ye newly reign, and think forsooth
Ye dwell in towers too high for any dart
To carry a wound there ! — have I not stood by While two kings fell from thence ? and shall I not Behold the third, the same who rules you now, Fall, shamed to sudden ruin ? — Do I seem
To tremble and quail before your modern gods ?
^SCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
Far be it from me ! — For thyself, depart,
Retread thy steps in haste. To all thou hast asked I answer nothing.
Hermes — Such a wind of pride Impelled thee of yore full sail upon these rocks.
Prometheus —
I would not barter — learn thou soothly that ! — My suffering for thy service. I maintain
It is a nobler thing to serve these rocks
Than live a faithful slave to father Zeus.
Thus upon scorners I retort their scorn.
Hermes —It seems that thou dost glory in thy despair. Prometheus —
I glory ? would my foes did glory so,
And I stood by to see them ! — naming whom, Thou are not unremembered.
Hermes — Dost thou charge Me also with the blame of thy mischanoe ?
Prometheus —
I tell thee I loathe the universal gods,
Who for the good I gave them rendered back The ill of their injustice.
Hermes — Thou art mad — Thou art raving, Titan, at the fever height.
Prometheus —
If it be madness to abhor my foes, May I be mad !
Hermes — If thou wert prosperous Thou wouldst be unendurable.
Prometheus — Alas ! Hermes —
Zeus knows not that word.
Prometheus — But maturing Time
Teaches all things.
Hermes — Howbeit, thou hast not learnt
The wisdom yet, thou needest.
Prometheus — If I had,
I should not talk thus with a slave like thee. Hermes —
No answer thou vouchsafest, I believe,
To the great Sire's requirement.
Prometheus— Verily
I owe him grateful service, — and should pay it.
308 . ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS.
Hermes —
Why, dost thou mock me, Titan, as I stood A child before thy face.
Prometheus — No child, forsooth, But yet more foolish than a foolish child,
If thou expect that I should answer aught Thy Zeus can ask. No torture from his hand Nor any machination in the world
Shall force mine utterance ere he loose, himself,
These cankerous fetters from me. For the rest,
Let him now hurl his blanching lightnings down,
And with his white-winged snows and mutterings deep Of subterranean thunders mix all things,
Confound them in disorder. None of this Shall bend my sturdy will and make me speak The name of his dethroner who shall come.
Hermes —
Can this avail thee ? Look to it !
Prometheus—
It was looked forward to, precounseled of.
Vain god, take righteous courage ! dare for once
To apprehend and front thine agon%3
With a just prudence.
Prometheus — . Vainly dost thou chafe
Hermes —
My soul with exhortation, as yonder sea
Goes beating on the rock. Oh, think no more
That I, fear-struck by Zeus to a woman's mind,
Will supplicate him, loathed as he is,
With feminine upliftings of my hands,
To break these chains. Far from me be the thought !
Hermes —
I have indeed, methinks, said much in vain,
For still thy heart beneath my showers of prayers Lies dry and hard — nay, leaps like a young horse Who bites against the new bit in his teeth, — And tugs and struggles against the new-tried rein, Still fiercest in the feeblest thing of all,
Which sophism is ; since absolute will disjoined
From perfect mind is worse than weak. Behold,
Unless my words persuade thee, what a blast
And whirlwind of inevitable woe
Must sweep persuasion through thee ! For at first The Father will split up this jut of rock
With the great thunder and the bolted flame
Long ago
. ESCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS. 309
And hide thy body where a hinge of stone
Shall catch it like an arm ; and when thou hast passed A long black time within, thou shalt come out
To front the sun while Zeus's winged hound,
The strong carnivorous eagle, shall wheel down
To meet thee, self-called to a daily feast,
And set his fierce beak in thee and tear off
The long rags of thy flesh and batten deep
Upon thy dusky liver. Do not look
For any end moreover to this curse
Or ere some god appear, to accept thy pangs
On his own head vicarious, and descend
With unreluctant step the darks of hell
And gloomy abysses around Tartarus.
Then ponder this — this threat is not a growth
Of vain invention ; it is spoken and meant ;
King Zeus's mouth is impotent to lie,
Consummating the utterance by the act ;
So, look to thou take heed, and nevermore
Forget good counsel, to indulge self-will.
Chorus —
Our Hermes suits his reasons to the times
At least think so, since he bids thee drop
Self-will for prudent counsel. Yield to him
When the wise err, their wisdom makes their shama.
Prometheus —
Unto me the foreknower, this mandate of power
He cries, to reveal it.
What's strange in my fate, if suffer from hate
At the hour that feel
Let the locks of the lightning, all bristling and whitening,
Flash, coiling me round,
While the aether goes surging 'neath thunder and scourging
Of wild winds unbound
Let the blast of the firmament whirl from its place
The earth rooted below,
And the brine of the ocean, in rapid emotion,
Be driven in the face
Of the stars up in heaven, as they walk to and fro Let him hurl me anon into Tartarus — on —
To the blackest degree,
With Necessity's vortices strangling me down But he cannot join death to fate meant for me
Hermes —
Why, the words that he speaks and the thoughts that he
thinks
a
I ?
; !
; !
!
!
it
I
I
it,
!
810
^SCHYLUS' PROMETHEUS
Are maniacal ! — add,
If the Fate who hath bound him should loose not the links,
He were utterly mad.
Then depart ye who groan with him, Leaving to moan with him, —
60 in haste ! lest the roar of the thunder anearing
Should blast you to idiocy, living and hearing. Cliorus —
Change thy speech for another, thy thought for a new, If to move me and teach me indeed be thy care !
For thy words swerve so far from the loyal and true That the thunder of Zeus seems more easy to bear.
How ! couldst teach me to venture such vileness ? behold !
I
I recoil from the traitor in hate and disdain,
And I know that the curse of the treason is worse
choose, with this victim, this anguish foretold !
Than the pang of the chain.
Hermes —
Then remember, O nymphs, what I tell you before,
Nor, when pierced by the arrows that Ate- will throw you, Cast blame on your fate and declare evermore
That Zeus thrust you on anguish he did not foreshow you.
Nay, verily, nay ! for ye perish anon
For your deed —by your choice. By no blindness of doubt,
No abruptness of doom, but by madness alone,
In the great net of Ate", whence none cometh out,
Ye are wound and undone. Prometheus —
Aye ! in act now, in word now no more, Earth is rocking in space.
And the thunders crash up with a roar upon roar, And the eddying lightnings flash fire in my face,
And the whirlwinds are whirling the dust round and round, And the blasts of the winds universal leap free
And blow each upon each with a passion of sound, And aether goes mingling in storm with the sea.
Such a curse on my head, in a manifest dread,
From the hand of your Zeus has been hurtled along.
O my mother's fair glory ! O MHa&t, enringing
All eyes with the sweet common light of thy bringing!
Dost see how I suffer this wrong ?
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
By PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
(From "Prometheus Unbound. ")
811
[Percy Bysshe Shelley, English poet, was born in Sussex, August 4, 1792, and educated at Eton and at University College, Oxford, whence he was expelled for a tract on the "Necessity of Atheism. " His first notable poem, "Queen Mab," was privately printed in 1813. He succeeded to his father's estate in 1816. " Alastor " was completed in 1816 ; " The Revolt of Islam," " Rosalind and Helen," and "Julian and Maddalo," in 1818; "Prometheus Unbound," "The Cenci," "The Coliseum," "Peter Bell the Third," and the "Mask of Anarchy," in 1819; "CEdipus Tyrannus" and the " Witch of Atlas," in 1820 ; "Epipsychidion," "The Defense of Poetry," "Adonais," and "Hellas," in 1822. He was drowned at sea July 8, 1822. ]
Soene — A Bavine of Icy Rocks in the Indian Caucasus. Prometheus is discovered bound to the Precipice. Panthea and Ione are seated at his feet. Time, Night. During the Scene, Morning slowly breaks.
Prometheus —
Monarch of Gods and Daemons, and all Spirits —
But One — who throng those bright and rolling worlds Which thou and I alone of living things
Behold with sleepless eyes ! regard this earth
Made multitudinous with thy slaves, whom thou Requitest for knee worship, prayer, and praise,
And toil, and hecatombs of broken hearts,
With fear and self -contempt and barren hope :
Whilst me who am thy foe, eyeless in hate
Hast thou made reign and triumph, to thy scorn,
O'er mine own misery and thy vain revenge.
Three thousand years of sleep-unsheltered hours,
And moments aye divided by keen pangs
Till they seemed years, torture and solitude,
Scorn and despair — these are mine empire : —
More glorious far than that which thou surveyest Prom thine unenvied throne, O mighty God ! — Almighty, had I deigned to share the shame
Of thine ill tyranny, and hung not here
Nailed to this wall of eagle-baffling mountain,
Black, wintry, dead, unmeasured ; without herb,
Insect, or beast, or shape or sound of life.
Ah me ! alas ! pain, pain, ever, forever !
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
No change, no pause, no hope ! Yet I endure. I ask the Earth, have not the mountains felt ? I ask yon Heaven, the all-beholding Sun,
Has it not seen ? The Sea, in storm or calm, Heaven's ever-changing shadow spread below, Have its deaf waves not heard my agony ?
Ah me ! alas ! pain, pain, ever, forever !
The crawling glaciers pierce me with the spears
Of their moon-freezing crystals ; the bright chains Eat with their burning cold into my bones ;
Heaven's winged hound, polluting from thy lips
His beak in poison not his own, tears up
My heart ; and shapeless sights come wandering by, The ghastly people of the realm of Dream,
Mocking me ; and the Earthquake fiends are charged To wrench the ',ivets from my quivering wounds When the rocks split and close again behind :
While from their loud abysses howling throng
The Genii of the Storm, urging the rage
Of whirlwind, and afflict me with keen hail.
And yet to me welcome is day and night ;
Whether one breaks the hoar frost of the morn,
Or, starry, dim, and slow, the other climbs
The leaden-colored east ; for then they lead
The wingless crawling Hours, one among whom —As some dark priest hales the reluctant victim — Shall drag thee, cruel King, to kiss the blood
From these pale feet, which then might trample thee If they disdained not such a prostrate slave.
I pity thee. What ruin I speak in grief,
Disdain ! Ah no !
Will hunt thee undefended through the wide heaven! How will thy soul, cloven to its depth with terror, Gape like a hell within !
Not exultation ; for I hate no more,
As then ere misery made me wise. The curse
Once breathed on thee I would recall. Ye Mountains, Whose many-voiced Echoes through the mist
Of cataracts flung the thunder of that spell !
Ye icy Springs, stagnant with wrinkling frost,
Which vibrated to hear me, and then crept
Shuddering through India! thou serenest Air,
Through which the Sun walks burning without beams ! And the swift Whirlwinds who on poised wings
Hung mute and moveless o'er yon hushed abyss,
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
•*
As thunder, louder than your own, made rock
The orbed world ! if then my words had power, — Though I am changed so that aught evil wish
Is dead within, although no memory be
Of what is hate, — let them not lose it now !
What was that curse ? for ye all heard me speak.
*****
Phantasm of Jupiter —
" Fiend, I defy thee ! with a calm fixed mind.
All that thou canst inflict I bid thee do ; Foul Tyrant both of Gods and Humankind,
One only being shalt thou not subdue ! Rain then thy plagues upon me here,
Ghastly disease and frenzying fear ; And let alternate frost and fire
Eat into me, and be thine ire
Lightning, and cutting hail, and legioned forms Of Furies driving by upon the wounding storms.
u Aye, do thy worst ! Thou art omnipotent. O'er all things but thyself I gave thee power,
And my own will. Be thy swift mischiefs sent To blast mankind from yon etherial tower.
Let thy malignant spirit move In darkness over those I love. On me and mine I imprecate The utmost torture of thy hate ;
And thus devote to sleepless agony
This undeclining head while thou must reign on high.
" But thou, who art the God and Lord ! O thou Who fillest with thy soul this world of woe, To whom all things of earth and heaven do bow
In fear and worship, all-prevailing foe ! I curse thee ! Let a sufferer's curse Clasp thee, his torturer, like remorse ! Till thine infinity shall be
A robe of envenomed agony ;
And thine omnipotence a crown of pain,
To cling like burning gold round thy dissolving brain !
" Heap on thy soul, by virtue of this curse,
I11 deeds, — then be thou damned, beholding good :
Both infinite as is the universe,
And thou, and thy self-torturing solitude I
814
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
An awful image of calm Power Though now thou sittest, let the hour Come when thou must appear to be That which thou art internally :
And, after many a false and fruitless crime,
Scorn track thy lagging fall through boundless space
and time ! " Prometheus —
Were these my words, O Parent ?
The Earth — They were thine.
Prometheus —
It doth repent me : words are quick and vain : Grief for a while is blind, and so was mine.
I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
The Earth —
Misery, oh misery to me,
That Jove at length should vanquish thee !
Wail, howl aloud, Land and Sea, —
The Earth's rent heart shall answer ye !
Howl, Spirits of the living and the dead !
Your refuge, your defense, lies fallen and vanquished !
First Echo —
Lies fallen and vanquished ?
Second Eclio —
lone — Fallen and vanquished !
Fear not : 'tis but some passing spasm, — The Titan is unvanquished still. —
But see where through the azure chasm Of yon forked and snowy hill,
Trampling the slant winds on high With golden-sandaled feet that glow
Under plumes of purple dye Like rose-ensanguined ivory,
A Shape comes now,
Stretching on high from his right hand
*******
A serpent-cinctured wand.
Panthea —
'Tis Jove's world-wandering herald, Mercury.
Mercury — Awful Sufferer ! To thee unwilling, most unwillingly,
I
To execute a doom of new revenge.
come, by the Great Father's will driven down,
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
Alas ! I pity thee, and hate myself
That I can do no more. Aye from thy sight Returning, for a season heaven seems hell,
So thy worn form pursues me night and day Smiling reproach. Wise art thou, firm, and good, But vainly wouldst stand forth alone in strife Against the Omnipotent ; as yon clear lamps
That measure and divide the weary years,
From which there is no refuge, long have taught, And long must teach. Even now thy torturer arms With the strange might of unimagined pains
The powers who scheme slow agonies in hell ;
And my commission is to lead them here,
Or what more subtle, foul, or savage fiends People the abyss, and leave them to their task. Be it not so ! There is a secret known
To thee, and to none else of living things,
Which may transfer the scepter of wide heaven, The fear of which perplexes the Supreme ; — Clothe it in words, and bid it clasp his throne
In intercession; bend thy soul in prayer,
And, like a suppliant in some gorgeous fane,
Let the will kneel within thy haughty heart : For benefits and meek submission tame
The fiercest and the mightiest.
Prometheus — Evil minds Change good to their own nature. I gave all He has ; and in return he chains me here, Years, ages, night and day ; whether the sun Split my parched skin, or in the moony night The crystal-winged snow cling round my hair ; Whilst my beloved race is trampled down
By his thought-executing ministers.
Such is the tyrant's recompense. 'Tis just :
He who is evil can receive no good ;
And for a world bestowed or a friend lost
He can feel hate, fear, shame ; not gratitude.
He but requites me for his own misdeed. Kindness to such is keen reproach, which breaks With bitter stings the light sleep of Revenge. Submission thou dost know I cannot try ;
For what submission but that fatal word,
The death seal of mankind's captivity,
Like the Sicilian's hair-suspended sword
Which trembles o'er his crown, would he accept,
316
THE DEFIANCE OF PROMETHEUS.
Or could I yield ? Which yet I will not yield. Let others flatter Crime where it sits throned In brief omnipotence ! Secure are they :
For Justice, when triumphant, will weep down Pity, not punishment, on her own wrongs,
Too much avenged by those who err. I wait, Enduring thus, the retributive hour
Which since we spake is even nearer now.
But hark, the Hell-hounds clamor. Fear delay ! Behold ! heaven lowers under thy father's frown !
Mercury —
Oh that we might be spared !
And thou to suffer ! Once more answer me : Thou knowest not the period of Jove's power ?
Prometheus —
I know but this, that it must come.
Mercury — Alas ! Thou canst not count thy years to come of pain ?
I to inflict,
Prometheus —
They last while Jove must reign ; nor more nor less Do I desire or fear.
Mercury — Yet pause, and plunge Into eternity, where recorded time —
Even all that we imagine, age on age — Seems but a point, and the reluctant mind Flags wearily in its unending flight,
Till it sink, dizzy, blind, lost, shelterless. Perchance it has not numbered the slow years Which thou must spend in torture, unreprieved ?
Prometheus —
Perchance no thought can count them. Yet they pass.
Mercury —
If thou mightst dwell among the Gods the while Lapped in voluptuous joy ?
Prometheus — I would not This bleak ravine, these unrepentant pains.
Pity the self-despising slaves of Heaven,
Not me, within whose mind sits peace serene,
As light in the sun, throned. How vain is talk ! Call up the fiends.
Mercury — I wonder at, yet pity thee.
Alas ! Prometheus —
quit
THE CONSPIRACY OF PAUSANIAS.
THE CONSPIRACY OP PAUSANIAS. By am EDWARD BULWER-LYTTON.
(From " Pausanias the Spartan. ")
317
[Edward George Earle Lytton-Bulwer, later Lord Lttton, English novelist, playwright, and poet, was born in Norfolk in 1803. He graduated at Trinity College, Cambridge ; became a member of Parliament for many years, colonial secretary 1858-1859 ; was editor of the New Monthly Magazine 1831- 1833 ; elected lord rector of Glasgow University 1856 ; died January 18, 1873. His novels include (among many others): "Pelham," " Paul Clifford," "Eu gene Aram," "The Last Days of Pompeii," "Rienzi," "Ernest Maltravers," "Alice, or the Mysteries," "Zanoni," "The Caxtons," "My Novel," "Ken- elm Chillingly," "The Coming Race," and the unfinished "Pausanias the Spar tan"; his plays, the permanent favorites "Richelieu," "Money," and "The Lady of Lyons" ; his poems, the satirical "New Timon," and translations of Schiller's ballads. ]
I.
In a large hall, with a marble fountain in the middle of the Greek Captains awaited the coming of Pausanias. A low and muttered conversation was carried on among them, in small knots and groups, amidst which the voice of Uliades was heard the loudest. Suddenly the hum was hushed, for footsteps were heard without. The thick curtains that at one extreme screened the doorway were drawn aside, and, attended by three of the Spartan knights, among whom was Lysander, and by two sooth sayers, who were seldom absent, in war or warlike council, from the side of the Royal Heracleid, Pausanias slowly entered the hall.
So majestic, grave, and self-collected were the bearing and aspect of the Spartan General, that the hereditary awe inspired by his race was once more awakened, and the angry crowd saluted him, silent and half abashed. Although the strong pas sions and the daring arrogance of Pausanias did not allow him the exercise of that enduring, systematic, unsleeping hypocrisy, which in relations with the foreigner often characterized his countrymen, and which from its outward dignity and profound craft exalted the vice into genius yet, trained from earliest childhood in the arts that hide design, that control the counte nance, and convey in the fewest words the most ambiguous meanings, the Spartan General could, for brief period, or for
critical purpose, command all the wiles for which the Greek was nationally famous, and in which Thucydides believed that of all Greeks the Spartan was the most skillful adept. And
a
a
;
it,
318 THE CONSPIRACY OF PAU8ANIA8.
now, as, uniting the courtesy of the host with the dignity of the chief, he returned the salute of the officers, and smiled his gracious welcome, the unwonted affability of his manner took the discontented by surprise, and half propitiated the most in dignant in his favor.
" I need not ask you, O Greeks," said he, " why ye have sought me. Ye have learned the escape of Ariamanes and Datis — a strange and unaccountable mischance. "
The captains looked round at each other in silence, till at last every eye rested upon Cimon, whose illustrious birth, as well as his known respect for Sparta, combined with his equally well-known dislike of her chief, seemed to mark him, despite his youth, as the fittest person to be speaker for the rest. Cimon, who understood the mute appeal, and whose courage never failed his ambition, raised his head, and, after a moment's hesitation, replied to the Spartan : —
" Pausanias, you guess rightly the cause which leads us to your presence. These prisoners were our noblest ; their cap ture the reward of our common valor; they were generals, moreover, of high skill and repute. They had become experi enced in our Grecian warfare, even by their defeats. Those two men, should Xerxes again invade Greece, are worth more to his service than half the nations whose myriads crossed the Hellespont. But this is not all. The arms of the Barbarians we can encounter undismayed.