Online Book Reader

Home Category

Prometheus Bound [10]

By Root 125 0
knowledge of the grief to come.

PROMETHEUS

Your former wish I lightly granted ye:

And ye have heard, even as ye desired,

From this maid's lips the story of her sorrow.

Now hear the sequel, the ensuing woes

The damsel must endure from Hera's hate.

And thou, O seed of Inachaean loins,

Weigh well my words, that thou may'st understand

Thy journey's end. First towards the rising sun

Turn hence, and traverse fields that ne'er felt plough

Until thou reach the country of the Scyths,

A race of wanderers handling the long-bow

That shoots afar, and having their habitations

Under the open sky in wattled cotes

That move on wheels. Go not thou nigh to them,

But ever within sound of the breaking waver,

Pass through their land. And on the left of the

The Chalybes, workers in iron, dwell.

Beware of them, for they are savages,

Who suffer not a stranger to come near.

And thou shalt reach the river Hybristes,

Well named. Cross not, for it is ill to cross,

Until thou come even unto Caucasus,

Highest of mountains, where the foaming river

Blows all its volume from the summit ridge

That o'ertops all. And that star-neighboured ridge

Thy feet must climb; and, following the road

That runneth south, thou presently shall reach

The Amazonian hosts that loathe the male,

And shall one day remove from thence and found

Themiscyra hard by Thermodon's stream,

Where on the craggy Salmadessian coast

Waves gnash their teeth, the maw of mariners

And step-mother of ships. And they shall lead the

Upon thy way, and with a right good will.

Then shalt thou come to the Cimmerian Isthmus,

Even at the pass and portals of the sea,

And leaving it behind thee, stout of heart,

Cross o'er the channel of Maeotis' lake.

For ever famous among men shall be

The story of thy crossing, and the strait

Be called by a new name, the Bosporus,

In memory of thee. Then having left

Europa's soil behind thee thou shalt come

To the main land of Asia. What think ye?

Is not the only ruler of the Gods

A complete tyrant, violent to all,

Respecting none? First, being himself a God,

He burneth to enjoy a mortal maid,

And then torments her with these wanderings.

A sorry suitor for thy love, poor girl,

A bitter wooing. Yet having heard so much

Thou art not even in the overture

And prelude of the song.

IO

Alas! Oh! Oh!

PROMETHEUS

Thou dost cryout, fetching again deep groans:

What wilt thou do when thou hast heard in full

The evils yet to come?

CHORUS

And wilt thou tell

The maiden something further: some fresh sorrow?

PROMETHEUS

A stormy sea of wrong and ruining.

IO

What does it profit me to live! Oh, why

Do I not throw myself from this rough crag

And in one leap rid me of all my pain?

Better to die at once than live, and all

My days be evil.

PROMETHEUS

Thou would'st find it hard

To bear what I must bear: for unto me

It is not given to die,-a dear release

From pain; but now of suffering there is

No end in sight till Zeus shall fall.

IO

And shall

Zeus fall? His power be taken from him?

No matter when if true-

PROMETHEUS

'Twould make thee happy

Methinks, if thou could'st see calamity

Whelm him.

IO

How should it not when all my woes

Are of his sending? learn how

These things shall be.

The tyrant's rod?

And fond imaginings.

IO

But how? Oh, speak,

If the declaring draw no evil down I

PROMETHEUS

A marriage he shall make shall vex him sore.

IO

A marriage? Whether of gods or mortals?

Speak!

If this be utterable!

PROMETHEUS

Why dost thou
Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader