Читать книгу Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments - Эсхил, Aeschylus - Страница 5

Strength. Lo! to a plain, earth's boundary remote,

We now are come, – the tract as Skythian known,

A desert inaccessible: and now,

Hephæstos, it is thine to do the hests

The Father gave thee, to these lofty crags

To bind this crafty trickster fast in chains

Of adamantine bonds that none can break;

For he thy choice flower stealing, the bright glory

Of fire that all arts spring from, hath bestowed it

On mortal men. And so for fault like this

He now must pay the Gods due penalty,

That he may learn to bear the sovereign rule

Of Zeus, and cease from his philanthropy.

Heph. O Strength, and thou, O Force, the hest of Zeus,

As far as touches you, attains its end,

And nothing hinders. Yet my courage fails

To bind a God of mine own kin by force

To this bare rock where tempests wildly sweep;

And yet I needs must muster courage for it:

'Tis no slight thing the Father's words to scorn.

O thou of Themis [to Prometheus] wise in counsel son,

Full deep of purpose, lo! against my will,137

I fetter thee against thy will with bonds

Of bronze that none can loose, to this lone height,

Where thou shalt know nor voice nor face of man,

But scorching in the hot blaze of the sun,

Shalt lose thy skin's fair beauty. Thou shalt long

For starry-mantled night to hide day's sheen,

For sun to melt the rime of early dawn;

And evermore the weight of present ill

Shall wear thee down. Unborn as yet is he

Who shall release thee: this the fate thou gain'st

As due reward for thy philanthropy.

For thou, a God not fearing wrath of Gods,

In thy transgression gav'st their power to men;

And therefore on this rock of little ease

Thou still shalt keep thy watch, nor lying down,

Nor knowing sleep, nor ever bending knee;

And many groans and wailings profitless

Thy lips shall utter; for the mind of Zeus

Remains inexorable. Who holds a power

But newly gained138 is ever stern of mood.

Strength. Let be! Why linger in this idle pity?

Why dost not hate a God to Gods a foe,

Who gave thy choicest prize to mortal men?

Heph. Strange is the power of kin and intercourse.139

Strength. I own it; yet to slight the Father's words,

How may that be? Is not that fear the worse?

Heph. Still art thou ruthless, full of savagery.

Strength. There is no help in weeping over him:

Spend not thy toil on things that profit not.

Heph. O handicraft to me intolerable!

Strength. Why loath'st thou it? Of these thy present griefs

That craft of thine is not one whit the cause.

Heph. And yet I would some other had that skill.

Strength. *All things bring toil except for Gods to reign;140

For none but Zeus can boast of freedom true.

Heph. Too well I see the proof, and gainsay not.

Strength. Wilt thou not speed to fix the chains on him,

Lest He, the Father, see thee loitering here?

Heph. Well, here the handcuffs thou may'st see prepared.

Strength. In thine hands take him. Then with all thy might

Strike with thine hammer; nail him to the rocks.

Heph. The work goes on, I ween, and not in vain.

Strength. Strike harder, rivet, give no whit of ease:

A wondrous knack has he to find resource,

Even where all might seem to baffle him.

Heph. Lo! this his arm is fixed inextricably.

Strength. Now rivet thou this other fast, that he

May learn, though sharp, that he than Zeus is duller.

Heph. No one but he could justly blame my work.

Strength. Now drive the stern jaw of the adamant wedge

Right through his chest with all the strength thou hast.

Heph. Ah me! Prometheus, for thy woes I groan.

Strength. Again, thou'rt loth, and for the foes of Zeus

Thou groanest: take good heed to it lest thou

Ere long with cause thyself commiserate.

Heph. Thou see'st a sight unsightly to our eyes.

Strength. I see this man obtaining his deserts:

Nay, cast thy breast-chains round about his ribs.

Heph. I must needs do it. Spare thine o'er much bidding;

Go thou below and rivet both his legs.141

Strength. Nay, I will bid thee, urge thee to thy work.

Heph. There, it is done, and that with no long toil.

Strength. Now with thy full power fix the galling fetters:

Thou hast a stern o'erlooker of thy work.

Heph. Thy tongue but utters words that match thy form.142

Strength. Choose thou the melting mood; but chide not me

For my self-will and wrath and ruthlessness.

Heph. Now let us go, his limbs are bound in chains.

Strength. Here then wax proud, and stealing what belongs

To the Gods, to mortals give it. What can they

Avail to rescue thee from these thy woes?

Falsely the Gods have given thee thy name,

Prometheus, Forethought; forethought thou dost need

To free thyself from this rare handiwork.

Prom. 143 Thou firmament of God, and swift-winged winds,

Ye springs of rivers, and of ocean waves

That smile innumerous! Mother of us all,

O Earth, and Sun's all-seeing eye, behold,

I pray, what I a God from Gods endure.

Behold in what foul case

I for ten thousand years

Shall struggle in my woe,

In these unseemly chains.

Such doom the new-made Monarch of the Blest

Hath now devised for me.

Woe, woe! The present and the oncoming pang

I wail, as I search out

The place and hour when end of all these ills

Shall dawn on me at last.

What say I? All too clearly I foresee

The things that come, and nought of pain shall be

By me unlooked-for; but I needs must bear

My destiny as best I may, knowing well

The might resistless of Necessity.

And neither may I speak of this my fate,

Nor hold my peace. For I, poor I, through giving

Great gifts to mortal men, am prisoner made

In these fast fetters; yea, in fennel stalk144

I snatched the hidden spring of stolen fire,

Which is to men a teacher of all arts,

Their chief resource. And now this penalty

Of that offence I pay, fast riveted

In chains beneath the open firmament.

Ha! ha! What now?

What sound, what odour floats invisibly?145

Is it of God or man, or blending both?

And has one come to the remotest rock

To look upon my woes? Or what wills he?

Behold me bound, a God to evil doomed,

The foe of Zeus, and held

In hatred by all Gods

Who tread the courts of Zeus:

And this for my great love,

Too great, for mortal men.

Ah me! what rustling sounds

Hear I of birds not far?

With the light whirr of wings

The air re-echoeth:

All that draws nigh to me is cause of fear.146

Chor. Nay, fear thou nought: in love

All our array of wings

In eager race hath come

To this high peak, full hardly gaining o'er

Our Father's mind and will;

And the swift-rushing breezes bore me on:

For lo! the echoing sound of blows on iron

Pierced to our cave's recess, and put to flight

My shamefast modesty,

And I in unshod haste, on winged car,

To thee rushed hitherward.

Prom. Ah me! ah me!

Offspring of Tethys blest with many a child,

Daughters of Old Okeanos that rolls

Round all the earth with never-sleeping stream,

Behold ye me, and see

With what chains fettered fast,

I on the topmost crags of this ravine

Shall keep my sentry-post unenviable.

Chor. I see it, O Prometheus, and a mist

Of fear and full of tears comes o'er mine eyes,

Thy frame beholding thus,

Writhing on these high rocks

In adamantine ills.

New pilots now o'er high Olympos rule,

And with new-fashioned laws

Zeus reigns, down-trampling right,

And all the ancient powers He sweeps away.

Prom. Ah! would that 'neath the Earth, 'neath Hades too,

Home of the dead, far down to Tartaros

Unfathomable He in fetters fast

In wrath had hurled me down:

So neither had a God

Nor any other mocked at these my woes;

But now, the wretched plaything of the winds,

I suffer ills at which my foes rejoice.

Chor. Nay, which of all the Gods

Is so hard-hearted as to joy in this?

Who, Zeus excepted, doth not pity thee

In these thine ills? But He,

Ruthless, with soul unbent,

Subdues the heavenly host, nor will He cease148

Until his heart be satiate with power,

Or some one seize with subtle stratagem

The sovran might that so resistless seemed.

Prom. Nay, of a truth, though put to evil shame,

In massive fetters bound,

The Ruler of the Gods

Shall yet have need of me, yes, e'en of me,

To tell the counsel new

That seeks to strip from him

His sceptre and his might of sovereignty.

In vain will He with words

Or suasion's honeyed charms

Soothe me, nor will I tell

Through fear of his stern threats,

Ere He shall set me free

From these my bonds, and make,

Of his own choice, amends

For all these outrages.

Chor. Full rash art thou, and yield'st

In not a jot to bitterest form of woe;

Thou art o'er-free and reckless in thy speech:

But piercing fear hath stirred

My inmost soul to strife;

For I fear greatly touching thy distress,

As to what haven of these woes of thine

Thou now must steer: the son of Cronos hath

A stubborn mood and heart inexorable.

Prom. I know that Zeus is hard,

And keeps the Right supremely to himself;

But then, I trow, He'll be

Full pliant in his will,

When He is thus crushed down.

Then, calming down his mood

Of hard and bitter wrath,

He'll hasten unto me,

As I to him shall haste,

For friendship and for peace.

Chor. Hide it not from us, tell us all the tale:

For what offence Zeus, having seized thee thus,

So wantonly and bitterly insults thee:

If the tale hurt thee not, inform thou us.

Prom. Painful are these things to me e'en to speak:

Painful is silence; everywhere is woe.

For when the high Gods fell on mood of wrath,

And hot debate of mutual strife was stirred,

Some wishing to hurl Cronos from his throne,

That Zeus, forsooth, might reign; while others strove,

Eager that Zeus might never rule the Gods:

Then I, full strongly seeking to persuade

The Titans, yea, the sons of Heaven and Earth,

Failed of my purpose. Scorning subtle arts,

With counsels violent, they thought that they

By force would gain full easy mastery.

But then not once or twice my mother Themis

And Earth, one form though bearing many names,149

Had prophesied the future, how 'twould run,

That not by strength nor yet by violence,

But guile, should those who prospered gain the day.

And when in my words I this counsel gave,

They deigned not e'en to glance at it at all.

And then of all that offered, it seemed best

To join my mother, and of mine own will,

Not against his will, take my side with Zeus,

And by my counsels, mine, the dark deep pit

Of Tartaros the ancient Cronos holds,

Himself and his allies. Thus profiting

By me, the mighty ruler of the Gods

Repays me with these evil penalties:

For somehow this disease in sovereignty

Inheres, of never trusting to one's friends.150

And since ye ask me under what pretence

He thus maltreats me, I will show it you:

For soon as He upon his father's throne

Had sat secure, forthwith to divers Gods

He divers gifts distributed, and his realm

Began to order. But of mortal men

He took no heed, but purposed utterly

To crush their race and plant another new;

And, I excepted, none dared cross his will;

But I did dare, and mortal men I freed

From passing on to Hades thunder-stricken;

And therefore am I bound beneath these woes,

Dreadful to suffer, pitiable to see:

And I, who in my pity thought of men

More than myself, have not been worthy deemed

To gain like favour, but all ruthlessly

I thus am chained, foul shame this sight to Zeus.

Chor. Iron-hearted must he be and made of rock

Who is not moved, Prometheus, by thy woes:

Fain could I wish I ne'er had seen such things,

And, seeing them, am wounded to the heart.

Prom. Yea, I am piteous for my friends to see.

Chor. Did'st thou not go to farther lengths than this?

Prom. I made men cease from contemplating death.151

Chor. What medicine did'st thou find for that disease?

Prom. Blind hopes I gave to live and dwell with them.

Chor. Great service that thou did'st for mortal men!

Prom. And more than that, I gave them fire, yes I.

Chor. Do short-lived men the flaming fire possess?

Prom. Yea, and full many an art they'll learn from it.

Chor. And is it then on charges such as these

That Zeus maltreats thee, and no respite gives

Of many woes? And has thy pain no end?

Prom. End there is none, except as pleases Him.

Chor. How shall it please? What hope hast thou? See'st not

That thou hast sinned? Yet to say how thou sinned'st

Gives me no pleasure, and is pain to thee.

Well! let us leave these things, and, if we may,

Seek out some means to 'scape from this thy woe.

Prom. 'Tis a light thing for one who has his foot

Beyond the reach of evil to exhort

And counsel him who suffers. This to me

Was all well known. Yea, willing, willingly

I sinned, nor will deny it. Helping men,

I for myself found trouble: yet I thought not

That I with such dread penalties as these

Should wither here on these high-towering crags,

Lighting on this lone hill and neighbourless.

Wherefore wail not for these my present woes,

But, drawing nigh, my coming fortunes hear,

That ye may learn the whole tale to the end.

Nay, hearken, hearken; show your sympathy

With him who suffers now. 'Tis thus that woe,

Wandering, now falls on this one, now on that.

Chor. Not to unwilling hearers hast thou uttered,

Prometheus, thy request,

And now with nimble foot abounding

My swiftly rushing car,

And the pure æther, path of birds of heaven,

I will draw near this rough and rocky land,

For much do I desire

To hear this tale, full measure, of thy woes.

Okean. Lo, I come to thee, Prometheus,

Reaching goal of distant journey,152

Guiding this my winged courser

By my will, without a bridle;

And thy sorrows move my pity.

Force, in part, I deem, of kindred

Leads me on, nor know I any,

Whom, apart from kin, I honour

More than thee, in fuller measure.

This thou shall own true and earnest:

I deal not in glozing speeches.

Come then, tell me how to help thee;

Ne'er shalt thou say that one more friendly

Is found than unto thee is Okean.

Prom. Let be. What boots it? Thou then too art come

To gaze upon my sufferings. How did'st dare

Leaving the stream that bears thy name, and caves

Hewn in the living rock, this land to visit,

Mother of iron? What then, art thou come

To gaze upon my fall and offer pity?

Behold this sight: see here the friend of Zeus,

Who helped to seat him in his sovereignty,

With what foul outrage I am crushed by him!

Okean. I see, Prometheus, and I wish to give thee

My best advice, all subtle though thou be.

Know thou thyself,153 and fit thy soul to moods

To thee full new. New king the Gods have now;

But if thou utter words thus rough and sharp,

Perchance, though sitting far away on high,

Zeus yet may hear thee, and his present wrath

Seem to thee but as child's play of distress.

Nay, thou poor sufferer, quit the rage thou hast,

And seek a remedy for these thine ills.

A tale thrice-told, perchance I seem to speak:

Lo! this, Prometheus, is the punishment

Of thine o'er lofty speech, nor art thou yet

Humbled, nor yieldest to thy miseries,

And fain would'st add fresh evils unto these.

But thou, if thou wilt take me as thy teacher,

Wilt not kick out against the pricks;154 seeing well

A monarch reigns who gives account to none.

And now I go, and will an effort make,

If I, perchance, may free thee from thy woes;

Be still then, hush thy petulance of speech,

Or knowest thou not, o'er-clever as thou art,

That idle tongues must still their forfeit pay?

Prom. I envy thee, seeing thou art free from blame

Though thou shared'st all, and in my cause wast bold;155

Nay, let me be, nor trouble thou thyself;

Thou wilt not, canst not soothe Him; very hard

Is He of soothing. Look to it thyself,

Lest thou some mischief meet with in the way.

Okean. It is thy wont thy neighbours' minds to school

Far better than thine own. From deeds, not words,

I draw my proof. But do not draw me back

When I am hasting on, for lo, I deem,

I deem that Zeus will grant this boon to me,

That I should free thee from these woes of thine.

Prom. I thank thee much, yea, ne'er will cease to thank;

For thou no whit of zeal dost lack; yet take,

I pray, no trouble for me; all in vain

Thy trouble, nothing helping, e'en if thou

Should'st care to take the trouble. Nay, be still;

Keep out of harm's way; sufferer though I be,

I would not therefore wish to give my woes

A wider range o'er others. No, not so:

For lo! my mind is wearied with the grief

Of that my kinsman Atlas,156 who doth stand

In the far West, supporting on his shoulders

The pillars of the earth and heaven, a burden

His arms can ill but hold: I pity too

The giant dweller of Kilikian caves,

Dread portent, with his hundred hands, subdued

By force, the mighty Typhon,157 who arose

'Gainst all the Gods, with sharp and dreadful jaws

Hissing out slaughter, and from out his eyes

There flashed the terrible brightness as of one

Who would lay low the sovereignty of Zeus.

But the unsleeping dart of Zeus came on him,

Down-swooping thunderbolt that breathes out flame,

Which from his lofty boastings startled him,

For he i' the heart was struck, to ashes burnt,

His strength all thunder-shattered; and he lies

A helpless, powerless carcase, near the strait

Of the great sea, fast pressed beneath the roots

Of ancient Ætna, where on highest peak

Hephæstos sits and smites his iron red-hot,

From whence hereafter streams of fire shall burst,158

Devouring with fierce jaws the golden plains

Of fruitful, fair Sikelia. Such the wrath

That Typhon shall belch forth with bursts of storm,

Hot, breathing fire, and unapproachable,

Though burnt and charred by thunderbolts of Zeus.

Not inexperienced art thou, nor dost need

My teaching: save thyself, as thou know'st how;

And I will drink my fortune to the dregs,

Till from his wrath the mind of Zeus shall rest.159

Okean. Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, even this,

Of wrath's disease wise words the healers are?

Prom. Yea, could one soothe the troubled heart in time,

Nor seek by force to tame the soul's proud flesh.

Okean. But in due forethought with bold daring blent,

What mischief see'st thou lurking? Tell me this.

Prom. Toil bootless, and simplicity full fond.

Okean. Let me, I pray, that sickness suffer, since

'Tis best being wise to have not wisdom's show.

Prom. Nay, but this error shall be deemed as mine.

Okean. Thy word then clearly sends me home at once.

Prom. Yea, lest thy pity for me make a foe…

Okean. What! of that new king on his mighty throne?

Prom. Look to it, lest his heart be vexed with thee.

Okean. Thy fate, Prometheus, teaches me that lesson.

Prom. Away, withdraw! keep thou the mind thou hast.

Okean. Thou urgest me who am in act to haste;

For this my bird four-footed flaps with wings

The clear path of the æther; and full fain

Would he bend knee in his own stall at home. [Exit.

Chor. I grieve, Prometheus, for thy dreary fate,

Shedding from tender eyes

The dew of plenteous tears;

With streams, as when the watery south wind blows,

My cheek is wet;

For lo! these things are all unenviable,

And Zeus, by his own laws his sway maintaining,

Shows to the elder Gods

A mood of haughtiness.

And all the country echoeth with the moan,

And poureth many a tear

For that magnific power

Of ancient days far-seen that thou did'st share

With those of one blood sprung;

And all the mortal men who hold the plain

Of holy Asia as their land of sojourn,

They grieve in sympathy

For thy woes lamentable.

And they, the maiden band who find their home

On distant Colchian coasts,

Fearless of fight,160

Or Skythian horde in earth's remotest clime,

By far Mæotic lake;161

And warlike glory of Arabia's tribes,162

Who nigh to Caucasos

In rock-fort dwell,

An army fearful, with sharp-pointed spear

Raging in war's array.

One other Titan only have I seen,

One other of the Gods,

Thus bound in woes of adamantine strength —

Atlas, who ever groans

Beneath the burden of a crushing might,

The out-spread vault of heaven.

And lo! the ocean billows murmur loud

In one accord with him;163

The sea-depths groan, and Hades' swarthy pit

Re-echoeth the sound,

And fountains of clear rivers, as they flow,

Bewail his bitter griefs.

Prom. Think not it is through pride or stiff self-will

That I am silent. But my heart is worn,

Self-contemplating, as I see myself

Thus outraged. Yet what other hand than mine

Gave these young Gods in fulness all their gifts?

But these I speak not of; for I should tell

To you that know them. But those woes of men,164

List ye to them, – how they, before as babes,

By me were roused to reason, taught to think;

And this I say, not finding fault with men,

But showing my good-will in all I gave.

For first, though seeing, all in vain they saw,

And hearing, heard not rightly. But, like forms

Of phantom-dreams, throughout their life's whole length

They muddled all at random; did not know

Houses of brick that catch the sunlight's warmth,

Nor yet the work of carpentry. They dwelt

In hollowed holes, like swarms of tiny ants,

In sunless depths of caverns; and they had

No certain signs of winter, nor of spring

Flower-laden, nor of summer with her fruits;

But without counsel fared their whole life long,

Until I showed the risings of the stars,

And settings hard to recognise.165 And I

Found Number for them, chief device of all,

Groupings of letters, Memory's handmaid that,

And mother of the Muses.166 And I first

Bound in the yoke wild steeds, submissive made

Or to the collar or men's limbs, that so

They might in man's place bear his greatest toils;

And horses trained to love the rein I yoked

To chariots, glory of wealth's pride of state;167

Nor was it any one but I that found

Sea-crossing, canvas-wingèd cars of ships:

Such rare designs inventing (wretched me!)

For mortal men, I yet have no device

By which to free myself from this my woe.168

Chor. Foul shame thou sufferest: of thy sense bereaved,

Thou errest greatly: and, like leech unskilled,

Thou losest heart when smitten with disease,

And know'st not how to find the remedies

Wherewith to heal thine own soul's sicknesses.

Prom. Hearing what yet remains thou'lt wonder more,

What arts and what resources I devised:

And this the chief: if any one fell ill,

There was no help for him, nor healing food,

Nor unguent, nor yet potion; but for want

Of drugs they wasted, till I showed to them

The blendings of all mild medicaments,169

Wherewith they ward the attacks of sickness sore.

I gave them many modes of prophecy;170

And I first taught them what dreams needs must prove

True visions, and made known the ominous sounds

Full hard to know; and tokens by the way,

And flights of taloned birds I clearly marked, —

Those on the right propitious to mankind,

And those sinister, – and what form of life

They each maintain, and what their enmities

Each with the other, and their loves and friendships;

And of the inward parts the plumpness smooth.

And with what colour they the Gods would please,

And the streaked comeliness of gall and liver:

And with burnt limbs enwrapt in fat, and chine,

I led men on to art full difficult:

And I gave eyes to omens drawn from fire,

Till then dim-visioned. So far then for this.

And 'neath the earth the hidden boons for men,

Bronze, iron, silver, gold, who else could say

That he, ere I did, found them? None, I know,

Unless he fain would babble idle words.

In one short word, then, learn the truth condensed, —

Allarts of mortals from Prometheus spring.

Chor. Nay, be not thou to men so over-kind,

While thou thyself art in sore evil case;

For I am sanguine that thou too, released

From bonds, shall be as strong as Zeus himself.

Prom. It is not thus that Fate's decree is fixed;

But I, long crushed with twice ten thousand woes

And bitter pains, shall then escape my bonds;

Art is far weaker than Necessity.

Chor. Who guides the helm, then, of Necessity?

Prom. Fates triple-formed, Errinyes unforgetting.

Chor. Is Zeus, then, weaker in his might than these?

Prom. Not even He can 'scape the thing decreed.

Chor. What is decreed for Zeus but still to reign?

Prom. Thou may'st no further learn, ask thou no more.

Chor. 'Tis doubtless some dread secret which thou hidest.

Prom. Of other theme make mention, for the time

Is not yet come to utter this, but still

It must be hidden to the uttermost;

For by thus keeping it it is that I

Escape my bondage foul, and these my pains.

Chor. Ah! ne'er may Zeus the Lord,

Whose sovran sway rules all,

His strength in conflict set

Against my feeble will!

Nor may I fail to serve

The Gods with holy feast

Of whole burnt-offerings,

Where the stream ever flows

That bears my father's name,

The great Okeanos!

Nor may I sin in speech!

May this grace more and more

Sink deep into my soul

And never fade away!

Sweet is it in strong hope

To spend long years of life,

With bright and cheering joy

Our heart's thoughts nourishing.

I shudder, seeing thee

Thus vexed and harassed sore.

By twice ten thousand woes;

For thou in pride of heart,

Having no fear of Zeus,

In thine own obstinacy,

Dost show for mortal men,

Prometheus, love o'ermuch.

See how that boon, dear friends,

For thee is bootless found.

Say, where is any help?

What aid from mortals comes?

Hast thou not seen this brief and powerless life,

Fleeting as dreams, with which man's purblind race

Is fast in fetters bound?

Never shall counsels vain

Of mortal men break through

The harmony of Zeus.

This lesson have I learnt

Beholding thy sad fate,

Prometheus! Other strains

Come back upon my mind,

When I sang wedding hymns around thy bath,

And at thy bridal bed, when thou did'st take

In wedlock's holy bands

One of the same sire born,

Our own Hesione,

Persuading her with gifts

As wife to share thy couch.

Io. What land is this? What people? Whom shall I

Say that I see thus vexed

With bit and curb of rock?

For what offence dost thou

Bear fatal punishment?

Tell me to what far land

I've wandered here in woe.

Ah me! ah me!

Again the gadfly stings me miserable.

Spectre of Argos, thou, the earth-born one —

Ah, keep him off, O Earth!

I fear to look upon that herdsman dread,

Him with ten thousand eyes:

Ah lo! he cometh with his crafty look,

Whom Earth refuses even dead to hold;172

But coming from beneath

He hunts me miserable,

And drives me famished o'er the sea-beach sand.

And still his waxened reed-pipe soundeth clear

A soft and slumberous strain;

O heavens! O ye Gods!

Whither do these long wanderings lead me on?

For what offence, O son of Cronos, what,

Hast thou thus bound me fast

In these great miseries?

Ah me! ah me!

And why with terror of the gadfly's sting

Dost thou thus vex me, frenzied in my soul?

Burn me with fire, or bury me in earth,

Or to wild sea-beasts give me as a prey:

Nay, grudge me not, O King,

An answer to my prayers:

Enough my many-wandered wanderings

Have exercised my soul,

Nor have I power to learn

How to avert the woe.

(To Prometheus.) Hear'st thou the voice of maiden crowned with horns?

Prom. Surely I heard the maid by gadfly driven,

Daughter of Inachos, who warmed the heart

Of Zeus with love, and now through Hera's hate

Is tried, perforce, with wanderings over-long?

Io. How is it that thou speak'st my father's name?

Tell me, the suffering one,

Who art thou, who, poor wretch,

Who thus so truly nam'st me miserable,

And tell'st the plague from Heaven,

Which with its haunting stings

Wears me to death? Ah woe!

And I with famished and unseemly bounds

Rush madly, driven by Hera's jealous craft.

Ah, who of all that suffer, born to woe,

Have trouble like the pain that I endure?

But thou, make clear to me,

What yet for me remains,

What remedy, what healing for my pangs.

Show me, if thou dost know:

Speak out and tell to me,

The maid by wanderings vexed.

Prom. I will say plainly all thou seek'st to know;

Not in dark tangled riddles, but plain speech,

As it is meet that friends to friends should speak;

Thou see'st Prometheus who gave fire to men.

Io. O thou to men as benefactor known,

Why, poor Prometheus, sufferest thou this pain?

Prom. I have but now mine own woes ceased to wail.

Io. Wilt thou not then bestow this boon on me?

Prom. Say what thou seek'st, for I will tell thee all.

Io. Tell me, who fettered thee in this ravine?

Prom. The counsel was of Zeus, the hand Hephæstos'.

Io. Of what offence dost thou the forfeit pay?

Prom. Thus much alone am I content to tell.

Io. Tell me, at least, besides, what end shall come

To my drear wanderings; when the time shall be.

Prom. Not to know this is better than to know.

Io. Nay, hide not from me what I have to bear.

Prom. It is not that I grudge the boon to thee.

Io. Why then delayest thou to tell the whole?

Prom. Not from ill will, but loth to vex thy soul.

Io. Nay, care thou not beyond what pleases me.

Prom. If thou desire it I must speak. Hear then.

Chor. Not yet though; grant me share of pleasure too.

Let us first ask the tale of her great woe,

While she unfolds her life's consuming chances;

Her future sufferings let her learn from thee.

Prom. 'Tis thy work, Io, to grant these their wish,

On other grounds and as thy father's kin:173

For to bewail and moan one's evil chance,

Here where one trusts to gain a pitying tear

From those who hear, – this is not labour lost.

Io. I know not how to disobey your wish;

So ye shall learn the whole that ye desire

In speech full clear. And yet I blush to tell

The storm that came from God, and brought the loss

Of maiden face, what way it seized on me.

For nightly visions coming evermore

Into my virgin bower, sought to woo me

With glozing words. “O virgin greatly blest,

Why art thou still a virgin when thou might'st

Attain to highest wedlock? For with dart

Of passion for thee Zeus doth glow, and fain

Would make thee his. And thou, O child, spurn not

The bed of Zeus, but go to Lerna's field,

Where feed thy father's flocks and herds,

That so the eye of Zeus may find repose

From this his craving.” With such visions I

Was haunted every evening, till I dared

To tell my father all these dreams of night,

And he to Pytho and Dodona sent

Full many to consult the Gods, that he,

Might learn what deeds and words would please Heaven's lords.

And they came bringing speech of oracles

Shot with dark sayings, dim and hard to know.

At last a clear word came to Inachos

Charging him plainly, and commanding him

To thrust me from my country and my home,

To stray at large174 to utmost bounds of earth;

And, should he gainsay, that the fiery bolt

Of Zeus should come and sweep away his race.

And he, by Loxias' oracles induced,

Thrust me, against his will, against mine too,

And drove me from my home; but spite of all,

The curb of Zeus constrained him this to do.

And then forthwith my face and mind were changed;

And hornèd, as ye see me, stung to the quick

By biting gadfly, I with maddened leap

Rushed to Kerchneia's fair and limpid stream,

And fount of Lerna.175 And a giant herdsman,

Argos, full rough of temper, followed me,

With many an eye beholding, on my track:

And him a sudden and unlooked-for doom

Deprived of life. And I, by gadfly stung,

By scourge from Heaven am driven from land to land.

What has been done thou hearest. And if thou

Can'st tell what yet remains of woe, declare it;

Nor in thy pity soothe me with false words;

For hollow words, I deem, are worst of ills.

Chor. Away, away, let be:

Ne'er thought I that such tales

Would ever, ever come unto mine ears;

Nor that such terrors, woes and outrages,

Hard to look on, hard to bear,

Would chill my soul with sharp goad, double-edged.

Ah fate! Ah fate!

I shudder, seeing Io's fortune strange.

Prom. Thou art too quick in groaning, full of fear:

Wait thou a while until thou hear the rest.

Chor. Speak thou and tell. Unto the sick 'tis sweet

Clearly to know what yet remains of pain.

Prom. Your former wish ye gained full easily.

Your first desire was to learn of her

The tale she tells of her own sufferings;

Now therefore hear the woes that yet remain

For this poor maid to bear at Hera's hands.

And thou, O child of Inachos! take heed

To these my words, that thou may'st hear the goal

Of all thy wanderings. First then, turning hence

Towards the sunrise, tread the untilled plains,

And thou shalt reach the Skythian nomads, those176

Who on smooth-rolling waggons dwell aloft

In wicker houses, with far-darting bows

Duly equipped. Approach thou not to these,

But trending round the coasts on which the surf

Beats with loud murmurs,177 traverse thou that clime.

On the left hand there dwell the Chalybes,178

Who work in iron. Of these do thou beware,

For fierce are they and most inhospitable;

And thou wilt reach the river fierce and strong,

True to its name.179 This seek not thou to cross,

For it is hard to ford, until thou come

To Caucasos itself, of all high hills

The highest, where a river pours its strength

From the high peaks themselves. And thou must cross

Those summits near the stars, must onward go

Towards the south, where thou shalt find the host

Of the Amâzons, hating men, whose home

Shall one day be around Thermôdon's bank,

By Themiskyra,180 where the ravenous jaws

Of Salmydessos ope upon the sea,

Treacherous to sailors, stepdame stern to ships.181

And they with right good-will shall be thy guides;

And thou, hard by a broad pool's narrow gates,

Wilt pass to the Kimmerian isthmus. Leaving

This boldly, thou must cross Mæotic channel;182

And there shall be great fame 'mong mortal men

Of this thy journey, and the Bosporos183

Shall take its name from thee. And Europe's plain

Then quitting, thou shalt gain the Asian coast.

Doth not the all-ruling monarch of the Gods

Seem all ways cruel? For, although a God,

He, seeking to embrace this mortal maid,

Imposed these wanderings on her. Thou hast found,

O maiden! bitter suitor for thy hand;

For great as are the ills thou now hast heard,

Know that as yet not e'en the prelude's known.

Io. Ah woe! woe! woe!

Prom. Again thou groan'st and criest. What wilt do

When thou shall learn the evils yet to come?

Chor. What! are there troubles still to come for her?

Prom. Yea, stormy sea of woe most lamentable.

Io. What gain is it to live? Why cast I not

Myself at once from this high precipice,

And, dashed to earth, be free from all my woes?

Far better were it once for all to die

Than all one's days to suffer pain and grief.

Prom. My struggles then full hardly thou would'st bear,

For whom there is no destiny of death;

For that might bring a respite from my woes:

But now there is no limit to my pangs

Till Zeus be hurled out from his sovereignty.

Io. What! shall Zeus e'er be hurled from his high state?

Prom. Thou would'st rejoice, I trow, to see that fall.

Io. How should I not, when Zeus so foully wrongs me?

Prom. That this is so thou now may'st hear from me.

Io. Who then shall rob him of his sceptred sway?

Prom. Himself shall do it by his own rash plans.

Io. But how? Tell this, unless it bringeth harm.

Prom. He shall wed one for whom one day he'll grieve.

Io. Heaven-born or mortal? Tell, if tell thou may'st.

Prom. Why ask'st thou who? I may not tell thee that.

Io. Shall his bride hurl him from his throne of might?

Prom. Yea; she shall bear child mightier than his sire.

Io. Has he no way to turn aside that doom?

Prom. No, none; unless I from my bonds be loosed.184

Io. Who then shall loose thee 'gainst the will of Zeus?

Prom. It must be one of thy posterity.

Io. What, shall a child of mine free thee from ills?

Prom. Yea, the third generation after ten.185

Io. No more thine oracles are clear to me.

Prom. Nay, seek not thou thine own drear fate to know.

Io. Do not, a boon presenting, then withdraw it.

Prom. Of two alternatives, I'll give thee choice.

Io. Tell me of what, then give me leave to choose.

Prom. I give it then. Choose, or that I should tell

Thy woes to come, or who shall set me free.

Chor. Of these be willing one request to grant

To her, and one to me; nor scorn my words:

Tell her what yet of wanderings she must bear,

And me who shall release thee. This I crave.

Prom. Since ye are eager, I will not refuse

To utter fully all that ye desire.

Thee, Io, first I'll tell thy wanderings wild,

Thou, write it in the tablets of thy mind.

When thou shalt cross the straits, of continents

The boundary,186 take thou the onward path

On to the fiery-hued and sun-tracked East.

[And first of all, to frozen Northern blasts

Thou'lt come, and there beware the rushing whirl,

Lest it should come upon thee suddenly,

And sweep thee onward with the cloud-rack wild;]187

Crossing the sea-surf till thou come at last

Unto Kisthene's Gorgoneian plains,

Where dwell the grey-haired virgin Phorkides,188

Three, swan-shaped, with one eye between them all

And but one tooth; whom nor the sun beholds

With radiant beams, nor yet the moon by night:

And near them are their wingèd sisters three,

The Gorgons, serpent-tressed, and hating men,

Whom mortal wight may not behold and live.

Such is one ill I bid thee guard against;

Now hear another monstrous sight: Beware

The sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that never bark,189

The Gryphons, and the one-eyed, mounted host

Of Arimaspians, who around the stream

That flows o'er gold, the ford of Pluto, dwell:190

Draw not thou nigh to them. But distant land

Thou shalt approach, the swarthy tribes who dwell

By the sun's fountain,191 Æthiopia's stream:

By its banks wend thy way until thou come

To that great fall where from the Bybline hills

The Neilos pours its pure and holy flood;

And it shall guide thee to Neilotic land,

Three-angled, where, O Io, 'tis decreed

For thee and for thy progeny to found

A far-off colony. And if of this

Aught seem to thee as stammering speech obscure,

Ask yet again and learn it thoroughly:

Far more of leisure have I than I like.

Chor. If thou hast aught to add, aught left untold

Of her sore-wasting wanderings, speak it out;

But if thou hast said all, then grant to us

The boon we asked. Thou dost not, sure, forget it.

Prom. The whole course of her journeying she hath heard,

And that she know she hath not heard in vain

I will tell out what troubles she hath borne

Before she came here, giving her sure proof

Of these my words. The greater bulk of things

I will pass o'er, and to the very goal

Of all thy wanderings go. For when thou cam'st

To the Molossian plains, and by the grove192

Of lofty-ridged Dodona, and the shrine

Oracular of Zeus Thesprotian,

And the strange portent of the talking oaks,

By which full clearly, not in riddle dark,

Thou wast addressed as noble spouse of Zeus, —

If aught of pleasure such things give to thee, —

Thence strung to frenzy, thou did'st rush along

The sea-coast's path to Rhea's mighty gulf,193

In backward way from whence thou now art vexed,

And for all time to come that reach of sea,

Know well, from thee Ionian shall be called,

To all men record of thy journeyings.

These then are tokens to thee that my mind

Sees somewhat more than that is manifest.

What follows (to the Chorus) I will speak to you and her

In common, on the track of former words

Returning once again. A city stands,

Canôbos, at its country's furthest bound,

Hard by the mouth and silt-bank of the Nile;

There Zeus shall give thee back thy mind again,194

With hand that works no terror touching thee, —

Touch only – and thou then shalt bear a child

Of Zeus begotten, Epaphos, “Touch-born,”

Swarthy of hue, whose lot shall be to reap

The whole plain watered by the broad-streamed Neilos:

And in the generation fifth from him

A household numbering fifty shall return

Against their will to Argos, in their flight

From wedlock with their cousins.195 And they too,

(Kites but a little space behind the doves)

With eager hopes pursuing marriage rites

Beyond pursuit shall come; and God shall grudge

To give up their sweet bodies. And the land

Pelasgian196 shall receive them, when by stroke

Of woman's murderous hand these men shall lie

Smitten to death by daring deed of night:

For every bride shall take her husband's life,

And dip in blood the sharp two-edgèd sword

(So to my foes may Kypris show herself!)197

Yet one of that fair band shall love persuade

Her husband not to slaughter, and her will

Shall lose its edge; and she shall make her choice

Rather as weak than murderous to be known.

And she at Argos shall a royal seed

Bring forth (long speech 'twould take to tell this clear)

Famed for his arrows, who shall set me free198

From these my woes. Such was the oracle

Mine ancient mother Themis, Titan-born,

Gave to me; but the manner and the means, —

That needs a lengthy tale to tell the whole,

And thou can'st nothing gain by learning it.

Io. Eleleu! Oh, Eleleu!199

The throbbing pain inflames me, and the mood

Of frenzy-smitten rage;

The gadfly's pointed sting,

Not forged with fire, attacks,

And my heart beats against my breast with fear.

Mine eyes whirl round and round:

Out of my course I'm borne

By the wild spirit of fierce agony,

And cannot curb my lips,

And turbid speech at random dashes on

Upon the waves of dread calamity.

Chor. Wise, very wise was he

Who first in thought conceived this maxim sage,

And spread it with his speech,200—

That the best wedlock is with equals found,

And that a craftsman, born to work with hands,

Should not desire to wed

Or with the soft luxurious heirs of wealth,

Or with the race that boast their lineage high.

Oh ne'er, oh ne'er, dread Fates,

May ye behold me as the bride of Zeus,

The partner of his couch,

Nor may I wed with any heaven-born spouse!

For I shrink back, beholding Io's lot

Of loveless maidenhood,

Consumed and smitten low exceedingly

By the wild wanderings from great Hera sent!

To me, when wedlock is on equal terms,

It gives no cause to fear:

Ne'er may the love of any of the Gods,

The strong Gods, look on me

With glance I cannot 'scape!

That fate is war that none can war against,

Source of resourceless ill;

Nor know I what might then become of me:

I see not how to 'scape

The counsel deep of Zeus.

Prom. Yea, of a truth shall Zeus, though stiff of will,

Be brought full low. Such bed of wedlock now

Is he preparing, one to cast him forth

In darkness from his sovereignty and throne.

And then the curse his father Cronos spake

Shall have its dread completion, even that

He uttered when he left his ancient throne;

And from these troubles no one of the Gods

But me can clearly show the way to 'scape.

I know the time and manner: therefore now

Let him sit fearless, in his peals on high

Putting his trust, and shaking in his hands

His darts fire-breathing. Nought shall they avail

To hinder him from falling shamefully

A fall intolerable. Such a combatant

He arms against himself, a marvel dread,

Who shall a fire discover mightier far

Than the red levin, and a sound more dread

Than roaring of the thunder, and shall shiver

That plague sea-born that causeth earth to quake,

The trident, weapon of Poseidon's strength:

And stumbling on this evil, he shall learn

How far apart a king's lot from a slave's.

Chor. What thou dost wish thou mutterest against Zeus.

Prom. Things that shall be, and things I wish, I speak.

Chor. And must we look for one to master Zeus?

Prom. Yea, troubles harder far than these are his.

Chor. Art not afraid to vent such words as these?

Prom. What can I fear whose fate is not to die?

Chor. But He may send on thee worse pain than this.

Prom. So let Him do: nought finds me unprepared.

Chor. Wisdom is theirs who Adrasteia worship.201

Prom. Worship then, praise and flatter him that rules;

My care for Zeus is nought, and less than nought:

Let Him act, let Him rule this little while,

E'en as He will; for long He shall not rule

Over the Gods. But lo! I see at hand

The courier of the Gods, the minister

Of our new sovereign. Doubtless he has come

To bring me tidings of some new device.

Herm. Thee do I speak to, – thee, the teacher wise,