And from that touch thou shalt conceive and bear Swarth Epaphus, touch-born; and he shall reap As much of earth as Nilus watereth With his broad-flowing river. In descent The fifth from him there shall come back to Argos, Thine ancient home, but driven by hard hap, Two score and ten maids, daughters of one house, Fleeing pollution of unlawful marriage With their next kin, who winged with wild desire, As hawks that follow hard on cushat-doves, Shall harry prey which they should not pursue And hunt forbidden brides. But God shall be Exceeding jealous for their chastity;And old Pelasgia, for the mortal thrust Of woman's hands and midnight murder done Upon their new-wed lords, shall shelter them;For every wife shall strike her husband down Dipping a two-edged broadsword in his blood.
Oh, that mine enemies might wed such wivesl But of the fifty, one alone desire Shall tame, as with the stroke of charming-wand, So that she shall not lift her hands to slay The partner of her bed; yea, melting love Shall blunt her sharp-set will, and she shall choose Rather to be called weak and womanly Than the dark stain of blood; and she shall be Mother of kings in Argos. 'Tis a tale Were't told in full, would occupy us long.
For, of her sowing, there shall spring to fame The lion's whelp, the archer bold, whose bow Shall set me free. This is the oracle Themis, my ancient Mother, Titan-born, Disclosed to me; but how and in what wise Were long to tell, nor would it profit thee.
IO
Again they come, again The fury and the pain!
The gangrened wound! The ache of pulses dinned With raging throes It beats upon my brain-the burning wind That madness blows!
It pricks-the barb, the hook not forged with heat, The gadfly dart!
Against my ribs with thud of trampling feet Hammers my heart!
And like a bowling wheel mine eyeballs spin, And I am flung By fierce winds from my course, nor can rein in My frantic tongue That raves I know not what!-a random tide Of words-a froth Of muddied waters buffeting the wide, High-crested, hateful wave of ruin and God's wrath!
Exit raving.
CHORUS
I hold him wise who first in his own mind This canon fixed and taught it to mankind:
True marriage is the union that mates Equal with equal; not where wealth emasculates, Or mighty lineage is magnified, Should he who earns his bread look for a bride.
Therefore, grave mistresses of fate, I pray That I may never live to see the day When Zeus takes me for his bedfellow; or Draw near in love to husband from on high.
For I am full of fear when I behold Io, the maid no human love may fold, And her virginity disconsolate, Homeless and husbandless by Hera's hate.
For me, when love is level, fear is far.
May none of all the Gods that greater are Eve me with his unshunnable regard;Fir in that warfare victory is hard, And of that plenty cometh emptiness.
What should befall me then I dare not guess;Nor whither I should flee that I might shun The craft and subtlety of Cronos' Son.
PROMETHEUS
I tell thee that the self-willed pride of Zeus Shall surely be abased; that even now He plots a marriage that shall hurl him forth Far out of sight of his imperial throne And kingly dignity. Then, in that hour, Shall be fulfilled, nor in one tittle fail, The curse wherewith his father Cronos cursed him, What time he fell from his majestic place Established from of old. And such a stroke None of the Gods save me could turn aside.
I know these things shall be and on what wise.
Therefore let him secure him in his seat, And put his trust in airy noise, and swing His bright, two-handed, blazing thunderbolt, For these shall nothing stead him, nor avert Fall insupportable and glory humbled.
A wrestler of such might he maketh ready For his own ruin; yea, a wonder, strong In strength unmatchable; and he shall find Fire that shall set at naught the burning bolt And blasts more dreadful that o'er-crow the thunder.
The pestilence that scourgeth the deep seas And shaketh solid earth, the three-pronged mace, Poseidon's spear, a mightier shall scatter;And when he stumbleth striking there his foot, Fallen on evil days, the tyrant's pride Shall measure all the miserable length That parts rule absolute from servitude.
CHORUS
Methinks the wish is father to the thought And whets thy railing tongue.
PROMETHEUS
Not so: the wish And the accomplishment go hand in hand.
CHORUS
Then must we look for one who shall supplant And reign instead of Zeus?
Far, far more grievous shall bow down his neck.
CHORUS
Hast thou no fear venting such blasphemy?
PROMETHEUS
What should I fear who have no part nor lot In doom of dying?
CHORUS
But he might afflict the With agony more dreadful, pain beyond These pains.
PROMETHEUS
Why let him if he will All evils I foreknow.
CHORUS
Ah, they are wise Who do obeisance, prostrate in the dust, To the implacable, eternal Will.
PROMETHEUS
Go thou and worship; fold thy hands in prayer, And be the dog that licks the foot of power!
Nothing care I for Zeus; yea, less than naught!
Let him do what he will, and sway the world His little hour; he has not long to lord it Among the Gods.
Oh here here runner comes The upstart tyrant's lacquey! He'll bring news, A message, never doubt it, from his master.
Enter HERMES.
Hermes. You, the sophistical rogue, the heart of gall, The renegade of heaven, to short-lived men Purveyor of prerogatives and tities, Fire-thief! Dost hear me? I've a word for thee.
Thou'rt to declare-this is the Father's pleasure These marriage-feasts of thine, whereof thy tongue Rattles a-pace, and by the which his greatness Shall take a fall. And look you rede no riddles, But tell the truth, in each particular Exact. I am not to sweat for thee, Prometheus, Upon a double journey. And thou seest Zeus by thy dark defiance is not moved.
PROMETHEUS
A very solemn piece of insolence Spoken like an underling of the Gods! Ye are young!
