Chapter 10
IO. Alack! what land, what folk are here? Whom see I clenched in rocky fetters drear Unto the stormy crag? for what thing done Dost thou in agony atone? Ah, tell me whither, well-a-day! My feet have roamed their weary way? Ah, but it maddens, the sting! it burns in my piteous side! Ah, but the vision, the spectre, the earth-born, the myriad-eyed! Avoid thee! Earth, hide him, thine offspring! he cometh—O aspect of ill! Ghostly, and crafty of face, and dead, but pursuing me still! Ah, woe upon me, woe ineffable! He steals upon my track, a hound of hell— Where’er I stray, along the sands and brine, Weary and foodless, come his creeping eyne! And ah, the ghostly sound— The wax-stopped reed-flute’s weird and drowsy drone! Alack my wandering woes, that round and round Lead me in many mazes, lost, foredone! O child of Cronos! for what deed of wrong Am I enthralled by thee in penance long? Why by the stinging bruise, the thing of fear, Dost thou torment me, heart and brain? Nay, give me rather to the flames that sear, Or to some hidden grave, Or to the rending jaws, the monsters of the main! Nor grudge the boon for which I crave, O king! Enough, enough of weary wandering, Pangs from which none can save! Hearken! in pity hold Io, the ox-horned maid, thy love of old!
PROMETHEUS. Hear Zeus or not, I hear and know thee well, Daughter of Inachus; I know thee driven, Stung by the gadfly, mazed with agony. Ay, thou art she whose beauty fired the breast Of Zeus with passion; she whom Hera’s hate Now harasses o’er leagues and leagues of land.
IO. Alack, thou namest Inachus my sire! Wottest thou of him? how, from lips of pain, Comes to my woeful ears truth’s very strain? How knowest thou the curse, the burning fire The god-sent, piercing pest that stings and clings? Ah me! in frenzied, foodless wanderings Hither I come, and on me from on high Lies Hera’s angry craft! Ah, men unblest! Not one there is, not one, that is unblest as I. But thou—tell me the rest! Utter the rede of woes to come for me; Utter the aid, the cure, if aid or cure there be!
PROMETHEUS. Lo, clearly will I show forth all thy quest— Not in dark speech, but with such simple phrase As doth befit the utterance of a friend. I am Prometheus, who gave fire to men.
IO. O daring, proven champion of man’s race, What sin, Prometheus, dost thou thus atone?
PROMETHEUS. One moment since, I told my woes and ceased.
IO. Then should I plead my suit to thee in vain?
PROMETHEUS. Nay, speak thy need; nought would I hide from thee.
IO. Pronounce who nailed thee to the rocky cleft.
PROMETHEUS. Zeus, by intent; Hephaestus, by his hand.
IO. For what wrongdoing do these pains atone?
PROMETHEUS. What I have said, is said; suffice it thee!
IO. Yet somewhat add; forewarn me in my woe What time shall bring my wandering to its goal?
PROMETHEUS. Fore-knowledge is fore-sorrow; ask it not.
IO. Nay, hide not from me destiny’s decree.
PROMETHEUS. I grudge thee not the gift which I withhold.
IO. Then wherefore tarry ere thou tell me all?
PROMETHEUS. Nothing I grudge, but would not rack thy soul.
IO. Be not compassionate beyond my wish.
PROMETHEUS. Well, thou art fain, and I will speak. Attend!
CHORUS. Nay—ere thou speak, hear me, bestow on me A portion of the grace of granted prayers. First let us learn how Io’s frenzy came— (She telling her disasters manifold) Then of their sequel let her know from thee.
PROMETHEUS. Well were it, Io, thus to do their will— Right well! they are the sisters of thy sire. ’Tis worth the waste and effluence of time, To tell, with tears of perfect moan, the doom Of sorrows that have fallen, when ’tis sure The listeners will greet the tale with tears.
IO. I know not how I should mistrust your prayer; Therefore the whole that ye desire of me Ye now shall learn in one straightforward tale. Yet, as it leaves my lips, I blush with shame To tell that tempest of the spite of Heaven, And all the wreck and ruin of my form, And whence they swooped upon me, woe is me! Long, long in visions of the night there came Voices and forms into my maiden bower, Alluring me with smoothly glozing words— _O maiden highly favoured of high Heaven, Why cherish thy virginity so long? Thine is it to win wedlock’s noblest crown! Know that Zeus’ heart thro’ thee is all aflame, Pierced with desire as with a dart, and longs To join in utmost rite of love with thee. Therefore, O maiden, shun not with disdain_ _Th’ embrace of Zeus, but hie thee forth straightway To the lush growth of Lerna’s meadow-land, Where are the flocks and steadings of thy home, And let Zeus’ eye be eased of its desire_. Night after night, haunted by dreams like these, Heartsick, I ventured at the last to tell Unto my sire these visions of the dark. Then sent he many a wight, on sacred quest, To Delphi and to far Dodona’s shrine, Being fall fain to learn what deed or word Would win him favour from the powers of heaven. But they came back repeating oracles Mystic, ambiguous, inscrutable, Till, at the last, an utterance direct, Obscure no more, was brought to Inachus— A peremptory charge to fling me forth Beyond my home and fatherland, a thing Sent loose in banishment o’er all the world; And—should he falter—Zeus should launch on him A fire-eyed bolt, to shatter and consume Himself and all his race to nothingness. Bowing before such utterance from the shrine Of Loxias, he drave me from our halls, Barring the gates against me: loth he was To do, as I to suffer, this despite: But the strong curb of Zeus had overborne His will to me-ward. As I parted thence, In form and mind I grew dishumanized, And horned as now ye see me, poison-stung By the envenomed bitings of the brize, I leapt and flung in frenzy, rushed away To the bright waters of Cerchneia’s stream And Lerna’s beach: but ever at my side, A herdsman by his heifer, Argus moved, Earth-born, malevolent of mood, and peered, With myriad eyes, where’er my feet would roam. But on him in a moment, unforeseen, Came Fate, and sundered him from life; but I, Still maddened by the gadfly’s sting, the scourge Of God’s infliction, roam the weary world. How I have fared, thou hearest: be there aught Of what remains to bear, that thou canst tell, Speak on! but let not thy compassion warm Thy words to cheering falsehood. Worst of woes Are words that break their promise to our hope!
CHORUS. Woe! woe! avaunt—thou and thy tale of bane! O never, never dared I dream Such horror of strange sounds should pierce mine ear; Such loathly sights, such tortures hard to bear, Outrage, pollution, agony supreme, Wasting my heart with double edge of pain! Ah Fate, ah Fate! I gaze on Io’s dole, And shudder to my soul!
PROMETHEUS. Thou wailest all too soon, fulfilled of fear— Tarry awhile, till thou have learned the whole.
CHORUS. Say on, reveal it! suffering souls are fain To know aright what yet remains to bear.
PROMETHEUS. Lightly, with help of mine, did ye achieve That which ye first desired: from Io’s mouth craved to hear, recounted by herself, The story of her strivings. Listen now To what shall follow, to what woefulness The wrath of Hera must compel this maid. (_To_ Io) And thou, O child of Inachus, within Thine inmost heart store up these words of mine, That thou may’st learn thy wanderings and their goal. First from this spot toward the sunrise turn, And cross the steppe that knoweth not the plough: Thus to the nomad Scythians shalt thou come, Who dwell in wattled homes, not built on earth But borne along on wains of sturdy wheel— Equipped, themselves, with bows of mighty reach. Pass them avoidingly, and leave their land, And skirt the beaches where the tides make moan, Till lo! upon the left hand thou shalt find The Chalybes, stout craftsmen of the steel— Beware of them! no gentleness is theirs, No kindly welcome to a stranger’s foot! Thence to the Stream of Violence shalt thou come— Like name, like nature; see thou cross it not, (’Tis fatal to the forder!) till thou come Right to the very Caucasus, the peak That overtops the world, and from its brows The river pants in spray its wrathful stream. Thence, o’er the pinnacles that court the stars, Onward and southward thou must take thy way, And reach the warlike horde of Amazons, Maidens through hate of man; and gladly they Will guide thy maiden feet. That host, in days That are not yet, shall fix their home and dwell At Themiscyra, on Thermodon’s bank, Nigh whereunto the grim projecting fang Of Salmydessus’ cape affronts the main, The seaman’s curse, to ships a stepmother! Then at the jutting land, Cimmerian styled, That screens the narrowing portal of the mere, Thou shalt arrive; pass o’er it, brave at heart, And ferry thee across Macotis’ ford. So shall there be great rumour evermore, In ears of mortals, of thy passage strange; And Bosporos shall be that channel’s name, Because the ox-horned thing did pass thereby. So, from the wilds of Europe wander’d o’er, To Asia’s continent thou com’st at last. (_To the_ CHORUS) And ye, what think ye? Seems he not, that lord And tyrant of the gods, as tyrannous Unto all other lives? A high god’s lust Constrained this mortal maid to roam the world! (_To_ Io) Poor maid! a brutal wooer sure was thine! For know that all which I have told thee now Is scarce the prelude of thy woes to come.
IO. Alas for me, alas!
PROMETHEUS. Again thou criest, with a heifer’s low. What wilt thou do, learning thy future woes?
CHORUS. What, hast thou further sorrows for her ear?
PROMETHEUS. Yea, a vext ocean of predestined pain.
IO. What profit then is life to me? Ah, why Did I not cast me from this stubborn crag? So with one spring, one crash upon the ground, I had attained surcease from all my woes. Better it is to die one death outright Than linger out long life in misery.
PROMETHEUS. Ill would’st thou bear these agonies of mine— Mine, with whose fate it standeth not to win The goal of death, which were release from pain! Now, there is set no limit to my woe Till Zeus be hurled from his omnipotence.
IO. Zeus hurled from pride of place! Can such things be?
PROMETHEUS. Thou wert full fain, methinks, to see that sight!
IO. Even so—his overthrow who wrought my pain.
PROMETHEUS. Then may’st thou know thereof; such fall shall be.
IO. And who shall wrench the sceptre from his hand?
PROMETHEUS. By his own mindless counsels shall he fall.
IO. And how? unless the telling harm, say on!
PROMETHEUS. Wooing a bride, his ruin he shall win.
IO. Goddess, or mortal? tell me, if thou may’st.
PROMETHEUS. No matter which—more must not be revealed.
IO. Doth then a consort thrust him from his throne?
PROMETHEUS. The child she bears him shall o’ercome his sire.
IO. And hath he no avoidance of this doom?
PROMETHEUS. None, surely—till that I, released from bonds—
IO. Who can release thee, but by will of Zeus?
PROMETHEUS. Fate gives this duty to a child of thine!
IO. How? Shall a child of mine undo thy woes?
PROMETHEUS. Yea, of thy lineage, thirteen times removed.
IO. Dark beyond guessing grows thine oracle.
PROMETHEUS. Yea—seek not therefore to foreknow thy woes.
IO. As thou didst proffer hope, withdraw it not.
PROMETHEUS. Two tales I have—choose! for I grant thee one.
IO. And which be they? reveal, and leave me choice.
PROMETHEUS. I grant it: shall I in all clearness show Thy future woes, or my deliverance?
CHORUS. Nay! of the two, vouchsafe her wish to her And mine to me, deigning a truth to each— To her, reveal her future wanderings— To me, thy future saviour, as I crave!
PROMETHEUS. I will not set myself to thwart your will Withholding aught of what ye crave to know. First to thee, Io, will I tell and trace Thy scared circuitous wandering mark it well, Deep in retentive tablets of the soul. When thou hast overpast the ferry’s flow That sunders continent from continent, Straight to the eastward and the flaming face Of dawn, and highways trodden by the sun, Pass, till thou come unto the windy land Of daughters born to Boreas: beware Lest the strong spirit of the stormy blast Snatch thee aloft, and sweep thee to the void, On wings of raving wintry hurricane! Wend by the noisy tumult of the wave, Until thou reach the Gorgon-haunted plains Beside Cisthene. In that solitude Dwell Phorcys’ daughters, beldames worn with time, Three, each swan-shapen, single-toothed, and all Peering thro’ shared endowment of one eye; Never on them doth the sun shed his rays, Never falls radiance of the midnight moon. But, hard by these, their sisters, clad with wings, Serpentine-curled, dwell, loathed of mortal men,— The Gorgons!—he of men who looks on them Shall gasp away his life. Of such fell guard I bid thee to beware. Now, mark my words When I another sight of terror tell— Beware the Gryphon pack, the hounds of Zeus, As keen of fang as silent of their tongues! Beware the one-eyed Arimaspian band That tramp on horse-hoofs, dwelling by the ford Of Pluto and the stream that flows with gold: Keep thou aloof from these. To the world’s end Thou comest at the last, the dark-faced tribe That dwell beside the sources of the sun, Where springs the river, Aethiopian named. Make thou thy way along his bank, until Thou come unto the mighty downward slope Where from the overland of Bybline hills Nile pours his hallowed earth-refreshing wave. He by his course shall guide thee to the realm Named from himself, three-angled, water-girt; There, Io, at the last, hath Fate ordained, For thee and for thy race, the charge to found, Far from thy native shore, a new abode. Lo, I have said: if aught hereof appear Hard to thy sense and inarticulate, Question me o’er again, and soothly learn— God wot, I have too much of leisure here!
CHORUS. If there be aught beyond, or aught pass’d o’er, Which thou canst utter, of her woe-worn maze, Speak on! if all is said, then grant to us That which we asked, as thou rememberest.
PROMETHEUS. She now hath learned, unto its utmost end, Her pilgrimage; but yet, that she may know That ’tis no futile fable she hath heard, I will recount her history of toil Ere she came hither; let it stand for proof Of what I told, my forecast of the end. So, then—to sum in brief the weary tale— I turn me to thine earlier exile’s close. When to Molossia’s lowland thou hadst come, Nigh to Dodona’s cliff and ridge sublime, (Where is the shrine oracular and seat Of Zeus, Thesprotian styled, and that strange thing And marvel past belief, the prophet-oaks That syllable his speech), thou by their tongues, With clear acclaim and unequivocal, Wert thus saluted—_Hail, O bride of Zeus That art to be_—hast memory thereof? Thence, stung anew with frenzy, thou didst hie Along the shoreward track, to Rhea’s lap, The mighty main; then, stormily distraught, Backward again and eastward. To all time, Be well assured, that inlet of the sea All mortal men shall call Ionian, In memory that Io fared thereby. Take this for proof and witness that my mind Hath more in ken than ever sense hath shown. (_To the_ CHORUS) That which remains, to you and her alike I will relate, and, to my former words Reverting, add this final prophecy. (_To_ Io) There lieth, at the verge of land and sea, Where Nilus issues thro’ the silted sand, A town, Canopus called: and there at length Shall Zeus renew the reason in thy brain With the mere touch and contact of his hand Fraught now with fear no more: and thou shalt bear A child, dark Epaphus—his very name Memorial of Zeus’ touch that gave him life. And his shall be the foison and the fruit Of all the land enriched by spreading Nile. Thence the fifth generation of his seed Back unto Argos, yet unwillingly, Shall flee for refuge—fifty maidens they, Loathing a wedlock with their next in blood, More kin than kind, from their sire’s brother sprung. And on their track, astir with wild desire, Like falcons fierce closing on doves that flee, Shall speed the suitors, craving to achieve A prey forbidden, a reluctant bride. Yet power divine shall foil them, and forbid Possession of the maids, whom Argive land Shall hold protected, when unsleeping hate, Horror, and watchful ambush of the night, Have laid the suitors dead, by female hands. For every maid shall smite a man to death, Dyeing a dagger’s edges in his throat— Such bed of love befall mine enemies! Yet in one bride shall yearning conquer hate, Bidding her spare the bridegroom at her side, Blunting the keen edge of her set resolve. Thus of two scorns the former shall she choose, The name of coward, not of murderess. In Argos shall she bear, in after time, A royal offspring. Long it were to tell In clear succession all that thence shall be. Take this for sooth—in lineage from her A hero shall arise, an archer great, And he shall be my saviour from these woes. Such knowledge of the future Themis gave, The ancient Titaness, to me her son. But how, and by what skill, ’twere long to say, And no whit will the knowledge profit thee.
IO. O woe, O rending and convulsive pain, Frenzy and agony, again, again Searing my heart and brain! O dagger of the sting, unforged with fire Yet burning, burning ever! O my heart, Pulsing with horror, beating at my breast! O rolling maddened eyes! away, apart, Raving with anguish dire, I spring, by frenzy-fiends possest. O wild and whirling words, that sweep in gloom Down to dark waves of doom!
[_Exit IO._]
CHORUS. O well and sagely was it said— Yea, wise of heart was he who first Gave forth in speech the thought he nursed— _In thine own order see thou wed!_
Let not the humble heart aspire To the gross home of wealth and pride; Nor be it to a hearth allied That vaunts of many a noble sire.
O Fates, of awful empery! Never may I by Zeus be wooed— Never give o’er my maidenhood To any god that dwells on high.
A shudder to my soul is sent, Beholding Io’s doom forlorn— By Hera’s malice put to scorn, Roaming in mateless banishment.
From wedlock’s crown of fair desire I would not shrink—an idle fear! But may no god to me draw near With shunless might and glance of fire!
That were a strife wherein no chance Of conquest lies: from Zeus most high And his resolve, no subtlety Could win me my deliverance.
PROMETHEUS. And yet shall Zeus, for all his stubborn pride, Be brought to low estate! aha, he schemes Such wedlock as shall bring his doom on him, Flung from his kingship to oblivion’s lap! Ay, then the curse his father Cronos spake As he fell helpless from his agelong throne, Shall be fulfilled unto the utterance! No god but I can manifest to him A rescue from such ruin as impends— I know it, I, and how it may be foiled. Go to, then, let him sit and blindly trust His skyey rumblings, for security, And wave his levin with its blast of flame! All will avail him not, nor bar his fall Down to dishonour vile, intolerable So strong a wrestler is he moulding now To his own proper downfall—yea, a shape Portentous and unconquerably huge, Who truly shall reveal a flame more strong Than is the lightning, and a crash of sound More loud than thunder, and shall dash to nought Poseidon’s trident-spear, the ocean-bane That makes the firm earth quiver. Let Zeus strike Once on this rock, he speedily shall learn How far the fall from power to slavery!
CHORUS. Beware! thy wish doth challenge Zeus himself.
PROMETHEUS. I voice my wish and its fulfilment too.
CHORUS. What, dare we look for one to conquer Zeus?
PROMETHEUS. Ay—Zeus shall wear more painful bonds than mine
CHORUS. Darest thou speak such taunts and tremble not?
PROMETHEUS. Why should I fear, who am immortal too?
CHORUS. Yet he might doom thee to worse agony.
PROMETHEUS. Out on his dooming! I foreknow it all.
CHORUS. Yet do the wise revere Necessity.
PROMETHEUS. Ay, ay—do reverence, cringe and crouch to power Whene’er, where’er thou see it! But, for me, I reck of Zeus as something less than nought. Let him put forth his power, attest his sway, Howe’er he will—a momentary show, A little brief authority in heaven! Aha, I see out yonder one who comes, A bidden courier, truckling at Zeus’ nod, A lacquey in his new lord’s livery, Surely on some fantastic errand sped!
Enter HERMES.
HERMES. Thou, double-dyed in gall of bitterness, Trickster and sinner against gods, by giving The stolen fire to perishable men! Attend—the Sire supreme doth bid thee tell What is the wedlock which thou vauntest now, Whereby he falleth from supremacy? Speak forth the whole, make all thine utterance clear, Have done with words inscrutable, nor cause To me, Prometheus! any further toil Or twofold journeying. Go to—thou seest Zeus doth not soften at such words as thine!
PROMETHEUS. Pompous, in sooth, thy word, and swoln with pride, As doth befit the lacquey of thy lords! O ye young gods! how, in your youthful sway, Ye deem secure your citadels of sky, Beyond the reach of sorrow or of fall! Have I not seen two dynasties of gods Already flung therefrom? and soon shall see A third, that now in tyranny exults, Shamed, ruined, in an hour! What sayest thou? Crouch I and tremble at these stripling powers? Small homage unto such from me, or none! Betake thee hence, sweat back along thy road— Look for no answer from me, get thee gone!
HERMES. Think—it was such audacities of will That drove thee erst to anchorage in woe!
PROMETHEUS. Ay—but mark this: mine heritage of pain I would not barter for thy servitude.
HERMES. Better, forsooth, be bond-slave to a crag, Than true-born herald unto Zeus the Sire!
PROMETHEUS. Take thine own coin—taunts for a taunting slave!
HERMES. Proud art thou in thy circumstance, methinks!
PROMETHEUS. Proud? in such pride then be my foemen set, And I to see—and of such foes art thou!
HERMES. What, blam’st thou me too for thy sufferings?
PROMETHEUS. Mark a plain word—I loathe all gods that are, Who reaped my kindness and repay with wrong.
HERMES. I hear no little madness in thy words.
PROMETHEUS. Madness be mine, if scorn of foes be mad.
HERMES. Past bearing were thy pride, in happiness.
PROMETHEUS. Ah me!
HERMES. Zeus knoweth nought of sorrow’s cry!
PROMETHEUS. He shall! Time’s lapse bringeth all lessons home.
HERMES. To thee it brings not yet discretion’s curb.
PROMETHEUS. No—else I had not wrangled with a slave!
HERMES. Then thou concealest all that Zeus would learn?
PROMETHEUS. As though I owed him aught and should repay!
HERMES. Scornful thy word, as though I were a child—