NRLF 
 
 Din 
 
 , 
 
 - -* 
 
 

 
 lilrrarp u 
 
GIFT OF 
 Benjamin Ide Wheeler 
 
 7f3 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus o 
 
 I, Ivo, had no power to ban or bless, 
 
 But was as one withliohlen by a spell. 
 Forward she fared in lofty loneliness, 
 Urged on by an..-miperious inward stress, 
 
 To waste^fair Eden, and to drown fierce Hell. 
 
 Helen Gray 
 
 207 
 
 Cone. 
 
 THE PROMETHEUS OF AESCHYLUS. 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. PART I. 
 
 C-* C ^-9^0 
 
 / ".*' 
 
 WE know distressingly little, we are 
 eager to learn more, of the childhood of 
 the Hellenic race. The Homeric poems 
 offer us, as it were, a glimpse of a land- 
 scape seen by a flash of lightning. What 
 came before and immediately after we 
 cannot discern. Even the picture itself 
 is avowedly an idealized one. Uncon- 
 sciously, indeed, the Homeric poets have 
 no doubt painted for us in the main 
 their own age, the men and manners 
 they knew ; yet they profess rather to 
 depict the more heroic earlier time, as 
 they imagine it to have been. Such as 
 it is, the picture remains indelibly out- 
 lined, beautiful and precious for all time, 
 but isolated, undated, not to be verified 
 by historical evidence. 
 
 The world is at least several centuries 
 older when Herodotus unrolls before us, 
 upon his crowded canvas, the varied 
 scenes of Greek and barbaric life in his 
 own day, and something like a connected 
 history of civilization upon the eastern 
 shores of the Mediterranean begins for 
 us. Themistocles and Aristides, Leoni- 
 das the Spartan hero-king and Pausa- 
 nias the regent, Xerxes and Mardonios, 
 are the first Greeks, or foes of Greeks, 
 whose figures and exploits are truly 
 familiar to us. As soon as the sweet- 
 tongued Father of History and fable 
 begins to recount the tales even of the 
 next earlier generation, we realize that 
 romantic tradition and poetic fancy have 
 been busy in the interval. The soften- 
 
 ing haze of the semi-mythical foretime 
 dims even the very outlines of the ac- 
 counts we hear of King Croesus of Lydia 
 and his conqueror, Cyrus; of Polycra- 
 tes, the lucky despot of Samos, and 
 Egyptian Amasis, his timorous ally ; or 
 even of Solon the lawgiver, and Pisistra- 
 tus the tyrant, of Athens. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no moment in the 
 history of civilization more dramatic, 
 more decisive, than the midnight before 
 the battle of Salamis. Millions of Asiatic 
 invaders have filled the land from Ther- 
 mopylae almost to the Isthmus. Attica 
 is overrun and devastated. The towns 
 have been sacked, the temples defiled 
 and set on fire. The Athenian women 
 and children have been hurried away to 
 destitute exile upon the islands. The 
 only hope of the Greeks is in their united 
 fleet, and the Peloponnesian admirals 
 are determined to scatter to their homes 
 when the morning breaks. Then the 
 desperate patriotism, or duplicity, which- 
 ever it was, of Themistocles impels him 
 to send the secret message to the Per- 
 sian, bidding him blockade the straits 
 and cutf off the Greek retreat. 
 
 On so slender a thr%ad, undoubtedly, 
 hung the salvation of Hellas, and with 
 it, in a sense, our modern civilization. 
 But for the miraculous victory of the 
 next morning, which frightened the cow- 
 ardly lord of all Asia and half Europe 
 into precipitate homeward flight, instead 
 of the glorious fifth century of Athens 
 
 -- L> 
 
208 
 
 of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 and Greece, we should have only such 
 stagnant monotonous oblivion as now 
 covers the annals of the hundred races 
 absorbed into the unwieldy Persian em- 
 pire, the Russia of antiquity : 
 
 ' ' Such whose supine felicity but makes 
 In action chasms, in epochas mistakes ; 
 O'er whom Time gently shakes his wings of 
 
 down, 
 Till with his silent sickle they are mown." 
 
 In such an hour the Athenians awoke 
 to the full consciousness of their own 
 future. Even the second devastation of 
 their city and land, in the following 
 summer, did not check for an instant 
 their assurance of complete and glorious 
 victory. The generation who beat back 
 the long-haired Mede at Salamis, and 
 the next autumn at Plataea, strode on 
 with confidence year after year, from 
 that time, to make the city of Pallas 
 queen of the JEgean, and the stronghold 
 of Hellenic statecraft, philosophy, art, 
 and literature. 
 
 Of this heroic generation, the first, as 
 has been said, which stands out clearly 
 and fully seen in the annals of Hellas, 
 the first, also, of the three which so dis- 
 tinctly divide the fifth century among 
 them, ^Eschylus is a most fitting type, 
 even as Sophocles was the brightest or- 
 nament of the Periclean age, and as 
 Euripides reflects in his dramas the 
 breaking up of old faiths and morals 
 with which the century closes. 
 
 Those awful disasters of 480 and 479, 
 and the truly miraculous escape, after 
 all, from annihilation or slavery, stirred 
 the life of Greece, even as Prussia was 
 born again to a nobler existence amid 
 calamities and triumphs during the clos- 
 ing years of Napoleon's career, or as 
 England was reused by the defeat of 
 the Invincible Armada. Especially the 
 Athenians of that age felt that only the 
 personal and almost visible presence of 
 the gods on earth, guiding the feeble ef- 
 forts of men, could account for the sig- 
 nal vengeance inflicted so instantly on 
 the presumptuous and impious tyrant 
 
 who had desecrated and destroyed their 
 shrines. Herodotus records, with un- 
 questioning belief, instances of evident 
 divine interposition in those days, re- 
 lated to him by Athenians. 
 
 In this conviction that the gods con- 
 trol and guide aright the fortunes of 
 men, as in many other respects, ^Eschy- 
 lus was influenced by, and exerted an in- 
 fluence in turn upon, his own generation. 
 He has no doubt whatever of a divine 
 justice presiding over all earthly events. 
 That is for him the one clear and evi- 
 dent truth amid all the vicissitudes of 
 man's life. Indeed, his own boldest pic- 
 tures of retribution for presumptuous 
 guilt must have seemed to him but faint, 
 far reflections of that tremendous drama 
 for which his own land had been the 
 stage. 
 
 The latest method of studying the lit- 
 eratures of the past is borrowed from the 
 natural sciences, and its aim is to trace 
 the evolution of rudimentary into more 
 elaborate forms. The . same difficulty, 
 however, baffles us in the case of the 
 Greek drama as with so many other lit- 
 erary developments. The masterpieces 
 in each kind have so entirely supplanted 
 the ruder works of an earlier time that 
 these latter have perished, leaving hardly 
 a trace behind them. Thespis, who " in- 
 troduced the first actor," is almost as 
 empty a name to us as Arion, the inven- 
 tor of the dithyrambic chorus, or Or- 
 pheus himself, the discoverer of the lyre, 
 while even Phrynichos and the other 
 elder rivals of ^JEschylus survive only in 
 meagre fragments, which give no just 
 idea of their artistic power or success. 
 We are forced to begin with ^Eschylus, 
 and though we have abundant reason to 
 regard him as by far the most daring 
 and creative spirit among all who aided 
 in the development of tragedy, yet we 
 cannot always know what is to be cred- 
 ited to his genius, and how much was, 
 even in his day, part of the sacred tra- 
 ditions of the Dionysiac festival. 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 209 
 
 A number of the minor inventions and 
 improvements in costume, stage machin- 
 ery, etc., are doubtless due to him. By 
 adding a second actor,, he really became 
 the creator of classical tragedy, since he 
 thereby first made possible a dialogue 
 wholly upon the stage, thus reducing 
 the chorus from the leading element to 
 the position of sympathetic listeners. 
 
 ^Eschylus must by no means be thought 
 of as a poet of the study, a mere turner 
 of verses. Again and again, during the 
 Persian wars, he and his brothers fought 
 gallantly in the Athenian ranks. His 
 works, though they do not violate artistic 
 propriety by covert allusion to current 
 events, breathe unmistakably a spirit of 
 steadfast, enlightened patriotism and sol- 
 idierly courage as well as of fervent, 
 [pious trust in the heavenly justice. To 
 the mood of his time, and to the lofty 
 earnestness of the soldier-poet himself, 
 may be safely attributed much of the 
 noble elevation of tone, the sincere reli- 
 gious character, which continued to man- 
 ifest themselves in Attic tragedy even 
 long after ^Eschylus' own death. Espe- 
 cially congenial to his nature was that 
 doctrine of Nemesis, which he taught 
 with such terrible power. The chief les- 
 son of tragedy, in his hands, is that full 
 atonement in suffering must be paid by 
 every man, not only for his own sins, 
 but also for all the crimes of his ances- 
 try:- 
 
 " For every guilty deed 
 Holds in itself the seed 
 Of retribution and undying pain." 
 
 Out of seventy ^Eschylean dramas 
 known and considered genuine by the 
 competent Alexandrian critics, seven 
 have drifted to us, several of them in 
 tattered and imperfect form. It is, in- 
 deed, highly probable that for several 
 centuries their transmission to us was 
 dependent on the preservation of a single 
 extant manuscript. ^Eschylus usually, 
 perhaps always, offered for the compe- 
 tition three plays connected in subject. 
 Only one such trilogy has come down to 
 
 VOL. LXII. NO. 370. 14 
 
 modern times. That one describes the 
 murder of Agamemnon by his unfaithful 
 wife ; the vengeance inflicted by Orestes 
 upon his own mother and her accomplice, 
 ^gisthus ; and lastly the final rescue of 
 Orestes from the pursuing Furies, and 
 his purification from the defilement of 
 matricide. Every lover of Greek liter- 
 ature should read Anna Swanwick's fine 
 English version of these three plays ; 
 but not at a single sitting, nor in hours 
 of mental depression. Upon the Attic 
 stage the effect of these scenes must have 
 been terrific, and tradition so assures 
 us. 
 
 It is proposed in the present series of 
 papers to offer to English readers three 
 works of our poet, all earlier than the 
 Oresteian trilogy. Each of them has 
 survived the dramas with which it was 
 originally connected. They are the 
 Seven Against Thebes, the Persians, and 
 the Prometheus. The first-named play 
 was preceded by a lost Laius and CEdipus, 
 and all three dealt, of course, with the 
 crimes and sorrows of the Theban royal 
 line. The Seven Against Thebes was 
 admired greatly by the ancients for its 
 martial spirit. It culminates in the fa- 
 tal assault on Thebes, and the death, 
 each by the other's hand, of CEdipus' 
 two sons, the reigning and the exiled 
 king. A final scene, in which Antigone 
 declares her determination to bury her 
 traitor brother, is, perhaps, a later ad- 
 dition, as it opens, but does not com- 
 plete, the subject so effectively treated in 
 Sophocles' famous play. 
 
 The Persians is in some respects the 
 most interesting among the Greek tra- 
 gedies we possess, as it is the only one 
 founded upon an event of the poet's own 
 time, and, moreover, contains the most 
 graphic and authentic account which we 
 have of the sea-fight by Salamis. This 
 description of the battle, written by an 
 eye-witness, to be recited before thou- 
 sands of surviving contestants, has the 
 highest possible trustworthiness. It is 
 put into the mouth of a messenger from 
 
210 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 Xerxes, for the scene of the drama is 
 laid at the Persian court. 
 
 The Prometheus has, however, a wider 
 interest than any purely Greek drama 
 can have. It belongs, in part at least, 
 as much to us as to the ancient hearers, 
 for it is an attempt by a great poet to 
 deal in a philosophic spirit with the re- 
 lations of divinity to primeval man. Its 
 
 /chief ethical purpose seems to have been 
 to free from degrading legends and bring 
 
 * out in clearer relief the figure of a just 
 and wise supreme ruler. The tortured 
 Titan only appears to be the loftiest of 
 the poet's conceptions, because but a sin- 
 gle act of the great drama has been 
 transmitted to us. Yet even so, a care- 
 ful reader will see that Prometheus him- 
 self can claim only our sympathy, not 
 our approval. 
 
 In any study of Greek mythology, it 
 must be kept in mind that there was no 
 complete or harmonious system of belief 
 developed at any particular time or 
 place. Various attempts were, indeed, 
 made to reduce the principal legends to 
 something like a consistent body of the- 
 ology, though with very imperfect suc- 
 cess; but in reality Greek myths were 
 more diverse and manifold, even, than 
 Greek dialects. Every valley, every 
 long-settled town, every ancient shrine 
 or oracle, had its own local tales ; the 
 favorite tendency being to invent a hero 
 bearing the same name as the locality, 
 and then to associate that personage 
 with the most illustrious figures of the 
 universal Greek myths, making him a 
 son of Heracles, of Poseidon, of Zeus. 
 This multiplicity of local legends is best 
 seen in the classical guide-book, as we 
 may call it, of Pausanias the traveler, 
 who visited nearly every portion of the 
 Greek mainland in the time of the An- 
 tonines. 1 
 
 There are undoubtedly figures in the 
 
 1 A translation of this most curious and val- 
 uable book has been recently added to Bonn's 
 Classical Library. 
 
 Greek pantheon which are as old as the 
 days when the ancestors of the Greeks 
 and our own forefathers dwelt side by 
 side in some unknown region of Asia, or 
 of Europe, in the cradle of that great 
 Aryan race, which, by successive tribal 
 migrations in prehistoric times, has 
 spread itself over almost all lands, from 
 Hindustan to the Hebrides. 
 
 One of the oldest and most universal 
 figures is Zeus, the omnipotent father, 
 whose missile is the lightning, whose 
 nod shakes heaven and earth. The Lat- 
 in Jupiter or Diespiter, the Greek Zeus- 
 pater, and the Sanscrit Dyaus-pitr, the 
 several names for the supreme divinity, 
 are of precisely the same composition, 
 and in Sanscrit the original significance, 
 " sky-father," remains un obscured. Zeus 
 is, therefore, not only the loftiest, but 
 perhaps also actually the oldest, creation 
 of the myth-making imagination ; much 
 older than the shadowy parents and an- 
 cestors with which the Greeks eventually 
 provided him. 
 
 Yet even with this majestic figure the 
 bold fancy of successive generations, 
 savage or refined, of countless myth- 
 makers, amid the diverse conditions of 
 life in a thousand valleys and islands, 
 played many a strange trick. To begin 
 with the most bewildering of all, in 
 Crete his grave was pointed out ! 
 
 Of the countless legends which repre- 
 sented him as assuming animal forms, to 
 accomplish some disgraceful or wicked 
 deed, there is no need to speak in detail. 
 Andrew Lang has thrown an interesting 
 light upon this subject by calling atten- 
 tion to the custom, widespread among 
 savages, of totemism ; that is, the ac- 
 ceptance of some animal, generally one 
 which can be easily sketched by untrained 
 hands, as the name-giver and badge of 
 each clan. This animal usually comes 
 to be regarded as the actual ancestor of 
 the tribe. Now many a gross legend 
 about Zeus may have arisen when such 
 a tribe had advanced in civilization suf- 
 ficiently to prefer the belief, not that the 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 211 
 
 bull, the swan, or the serpent was their 
 progenitor, but that the supreme god 
 had miraculously assumed such a form 
 to become by a mortal woman the an- 
 cestor of their race. 
 
 Whatever their precise origin, such 
 legends were evidently a legacy from 
 ruder forefathers. The historic Greeks 
 never would have invented such tales. 
 Most men were no doubt perplexed and 
 shocked by them. Plato, and other phi- 
 losophers before and after him, raised a 
 bold voice of condemnation against all 
 stories of evil-doing by the gods. 
 
 In one curious belief about Zeus all 
 the Greeks were apparently united. He 
 had not always reigned. Like a human 
 monarch, he had a father and a grand- 
 sire, who had ruled the universe before 
 him. His father, Kronos, had been de- 
 throned and imprisoned in deepest Tar- 
 taros by his rebellious children : a fate, 
 it may be said incidentally, which the 
 grotesque old cannibal richly deserved. 
 The Prometheus is a drama which takes 
 us back to that period of elemental strife. 
 
 Homer makes no allusion to Prome- 
 theus, and it is possible that the whole 
 myth, in the form familiar to us, is the 
 invention of an age later and more self- 
 conscious than that which produced the 
 Odyssey. The name Prometheus is a 
 masculine formation on the same stem 
 as the Greek word for forethought, 
 " promethia," and the tale is thus avow- 
 edly, in its origin, a parable. Prome- 
 theus, the champion of humanity, is a 
 [personification of that quality which 
 raises man above the level of savage 
 life, and enables him to cope with those 
 mighty forces of nature in which every 
 savage's untutored mind hears and sees 
 his gods. He is the fire - giver simply 
 because the acquisition of fire is felt to 
 be the most essential step in the progress 
 toward civilization. But we must not 
 try to detect a parable in every detail of 
 this or any Greek myth. When once 
 the character is invented, the pure love 
 of myth-making, the imaginative fancy 
 
 of the race, supplies him with exploits 
 and adventures, or attaches to him the 
 floating tales which were already told of 
 Somebody or of Nobody. 
 
 Later legends made Prometheus the 
 father of the entire human race, or of 
 Deucalion, the Hellenic Noah, sole sur- 
 vivor of the heaven-sent flood. In still 
 other accounts he appears as the actual 
 creator of mankind. The traveler Pau- 
 sanias was shown, in Phokis, fragments 
 of flesh-colored clay, having a peculiar 
 human odor, remnants of the material 
 out of which Prometheus shaped prime- 
 val man. In the earlier Hellenic myths, 
 however, there is a striking absence of 
 any elaborate attempt to explain the ori- 
 gin of man. Most Greeks seemingly con- 
 tented themselves with the explanation 
 of Topsy, that they " jes' growed." 
 Many passages in ancient authors point 
 clearly to the belief formerly prevalent, 
 that men at first developed in some way 
 from trees, or grew out of the earth. 
 This belief is perhaps hinted at in the 
 usual remark to strangers, in the Odys- 
 sey : 
 
 "Who, pray, art thou, or whence art come ? 
 For methinks thou'rt hardly sprung from 
 rock or tree." 
 
 The grave Thucydides, least mythical 
 of historians, tells us that the old-fash- 
 ioned Athenians of pure descent wore a 
 silver grasshopper to bind up their hair, 
 an emblem that they, like that animal, 
 were aboriginal, had sprung from the 
 Attic soil. All lovers of the Age of Fa- 
 ble will recall the favorite legend of men 
 rising full-armed from the ground where 
 the dragon's teeth were sown. 
 
 In ^Eschylus' Prometheus, and in that 
 earlier poem by which he was evidently 
 most influenced, the human race is ap- 
 parently coeval with the gods themselves. 
 The poem alluded to is the Theogpny 
 of Hesiod, which has descended to us in 
 an incomplete and interpolated condi- 
 tion. This is the first attempt to reduce 
 mythology to a system which has been 
 preserved. v 
 
212 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 Hesiod was a poor farmer of Ascra, 
 an obscure village in BcEotia. As to his 
 time, Herodotus, peering backward into 
 the dark, says, "My opinion is that 
 Hesiod and Homer lived four hundred 
 years before my time, and not more." 
 His guess is as good as any modern one. 
 In his Theogony, consisting of ten hun- 
 dred and two rather heavy and prosy 
 hexameter lines, Hesiod attempts a com- 
 plete genealogy of the gods, beginning 
 with Chaos, Night, Heaven, Earth, etc., 
 all these being individuals in the Hesi- 
 odic account. Zeus, as was remarked 
 before, gains supreme power by dethron- 
 ing and imprisoning his father. Zeus 
 and his brethren are involved in a des- 
 perate struggle with their uncles, bro- 
 thers of the deposed Kronos, who are 
 called the Titans. Prometheus, with his 
 brothers, Epimetheus (that is, After- 
 thought) and Atlas, are cousins to Zeus, 
 being children of the Titan lapetos. 
 Hesiod says nothing of any share taken 
 by Prometheus in this war between the 
 Titans and the younger gods, but Pro- 
 metheus does already, in the Theogony, 
 appear as the especial champion of the 
 human race, even then in existence, and 
 apparently treated by the gods as fa- 
 miliar friends. Indeed, a line in the 
 Works and Days (another poem attrib- 
 uted to Hesiod) declares that ".gods and 
 mortal men are sprung lrr> *h c.aro 
 jsojircfo' no doubt the common moth- 
 er, Earth. 
 
 But Prometheus, says Hesiod, while 
 making a sacrifice in man's behalf, at- 
 tempts, by trickery, to beguile Zeus into 
 accepting as his share the worthless 
 bones and fat, which have been covered 
 with thin slices of the choicest meat. 
 Zeus, in revenge, deprives men of the 
 use of fire, and Prometheus undertakes 
 to steal it again from heaven (as later 
 writers add, from Zeus' own hearth ; or 
 from Hephaistos' forge ; or, most poetic 
 fancy of all, by lighting a torch at the 
 radiant chariot- wheel of the sun-god). 
 Pandora is, moreover, sent to torture 
 
 mankind with her deceitful beauty and 
 by opening the casket of woes. Epime- 
 theus accepts her as his bride, and from 
 her, says the poet, sprang the idle, mis- 
 chief-making race of women. Whether 
 he means that until then only men had 
 existed can only be conjectured. More- 
 over, Epimetheus, the Titan's son, is 
 surely not a mortal man ; but here also 
 the rude and fragmentary poem eludes 
 our too critical inquiries. Prometheus 
 is chained to a pillar and tortured by a 
 vulture, which devours his liver, until, 
 long afterward, Zeus allows his favorite 
 mortal son, Heracles, that his glory may 
 be yet greater on earth, to shoot the 
 vulture and release the sufferer. Thus 
 far the Theogony of Hesiod, a partial 
 sketch of which is essential to any study 
 of JEschylus' play. 
 
 Another Boaotian poet, but of far lof- 
 tier flight, was Pindar, the contempo- 
 rary of JEschylus himself. In Pindar's 
 Seventh Isthmian ode we find, impres- 
 sively told, a myth which influenced JEs- 
 chylus powerfully : 
 
 " For the hand of Thetis " (loveliest of 
 the sea-nymphs) "there was strife be- 
 tween Zeus and glorious Poseidon, each 
 desiring that she should be his fair bride. 
 Yet the wisdom of the immortal gods 
 brought not such a marriage to pass 
 when they had heard a certain oracle. 
 k For wise-counseling Themis" (Justice) 
 " told how it was predestined that the sea- 
 goddess should bear an offspring might- 
 ier than his father, whose hand should 
 wield a bolt more terrible than the light- 
 ning or the dread trident, if ever she 
 wedded Zeus or his brethren." " Cease 
 ye herefrom; let her enter a mortal's 
 couch, and see her son fall in war," 
 says Themis. So Thetis was given to 
 King Peleus, and in his halls she bore 
 Achilles. 
 
 These two legends, the tale of Pro- 
 metheus and the prophecy concerning 
 Thetis, ^Eschylus was probably the first 
 to weld together. Prometheus is no fit 
 subject for tragedy until he has some 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 213 
 
 means to resist, at least passively, the 
 power of Zeus. In Hesiod's account his 
 mother is a Titanid Clymene, but ^Es- 
 chylus has boldly assigned him to The- 
 mis as a son, and lets him learn through 
 her of the danger into which Zeus will 
 some day be brought by his infatuation 
 for the lovely sea-nymph Thetis. This 
 secret knowledge enables him to bear 
 the tortures of his crucifixion for centu- 
 ries, and finally so terrifies Zeus that he 
 sends Heracles to release Prometheus, 
 who, however, must first promise that 
 he will immediately reveal in full the 
 secret to which he has darkly alluded.,. 
 
 The attempt has been made to Jndi- 
 cate the probable development of the 
 tragic plot in our poet's mind. We are 
 ready to begin the study of the drama 
 itself. 
 
 The scene is laid in the extreme north- 
 east of Europe. At the back of the stage 
 is represented a desolate cliff, and the 
 stage itself is to be considered as a ra- 
 vine at the foot of the precipice. The 
 ocean is seen on the right ; upon the left, 
 the wilderness. 
 
 Might and Force appear, dragging or 
 carrying the gigantic form of Prome- 
 theus, while Hephaistos, the smith of 
 the gods, follows, with sledge-hammer, 
 spikes, and fetters. Here we have at 
 once an evident reminiscence of Hesiod, 
 who mentions Might and Force as bro- 
 thers, and as Zeus' trustiest helpers 
 against the Titans. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Might. To earth's far outmost regions we 
 
 are come, 
 
 The Scythian tract, the pathless wilderness. 
 Hephaistos, thou the injunctions must regard, 
 Upon thee by the father laid, this wretch 
 Upon the lofty cliff to set in bonds 
 Unbreakable of adamantine chains ! 
 
 The glory of all-working fire, thy flower, 
 He stole and brought to men. For such mis- 
 deed 
 
 He to the gods must pay a penalty, 
 That he mav learn to love the rule of Zeus, 
 And may d B fcf frnm_hiaJman-lovin^ 
 
 Hephaistos. O Might and Force, behold, the 
 
 will of Zeus, 
 For your part, is fulfilled. Naught hinders 
 
 more. 
 
 I lack the heart to bind a kindred god 
 By force against this rude and wintry crag. 
 But yet I must, indeed, take heart for this : 
 The father's words are hard to disregard. 
 (To Prometheus.} O thou audacious son of 
 
 Themis sage, 
 
 Against thy will and mine in brazen chains 
 I '11 spike thee to this man-forsaken hill, 
 Where neither voice nor any mortal shape 
 Thou 'It see, but, scorched by Helios' gleaming 
 
 blaze, 
 
 Thy face shall lose its bloom. Thou wilt re- 
 joice 
 
 When starry-mantled Night shall hide the day, 
 Or Helios put to rout the frost of dawn. 
 Even the agony of present ill 
 Shall waste thee. Thy releaser lives not yet. 
 Such is thy gain through thy man-loving 
 
 ways. 
 
 A god, thou didst not shrink from wrath of gods, 
 But wrongfully bestowed thy gifts on men. 
 And therefore shalt thou guard this joyless 
 
 rock, 
 
 Upright, unslumbering, bending not thy knee. 
 Many laments thou 'It utter, and vain groans; 
 For unrelenting is the heart of Zeus, 
 And ever harsh is he whose rule is young. 
 Might. Well! why dost thou bemoan, and 
 
 tarry in vain ? 
 
 Why dost not hate the deadliest foe of gods, 
 Who has betrayed thy glory unto men ? 
 
 Heph. Kinship and friendship are a mighty 
 
 bond. 
 
 Might. I grant it. But how canst thou dis- 
 regard 
 
 The father's words ? Dost thou not dread that 
 more ? 
 
 Throughout the remainder of this dia- 
 logue it will be noticed how aptly the 
 very form of Hephaistos' single -line 
 speeches indicates his aversion to the 
 task imposed on him, while Might, in 
 his double-line retorts, gives utterance to 
 his unfeeling delight in the disgrace and 
 agony of Prometheus : 
 
 Heph. Still art thou harsh and full of inso- 
 lence ! 
 Might. For him, at least, there is no escape 
 
 from grief ; 
 
 But do not spend thy fruitless toil in vain. 
 Heph. O utterly detested handicraft ! 
 Might. Why dost thou hate it ? For indeed 
 
 thine art 
 Is no way cause of that which now is done* 
 
214 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 Hepk. Would it had fallen to another' s lot ! 
 Might. All thing's are onerous save to rule 
 
 the gods, 
 For there is no one free save Zeus alone. 
 
 Heph. I know it ; nor can I that word gain- 
 say. 
 Might. Wilt thou not hasten, then, to fetter 
 
 him, 
 For fear the father see thee lingering ? 
 
 Prometheus is now held firmly against 
 the cliff by the two grim servants of 
 Zeus, while Hephaistos reluctantly binds 
 him fast. 
 
 Heph. And lo, here are the armlets to be- 
 hold. 
 Might. Take them, and round his arms with 
 
 mighty strength 
 Smite with the hammer. Spike him to the 
 
 rocks. 
 Heph. Behold, 't is done ; nor is that task 
 
 delayed. 
 Might. Bind fast! Smite harder! Spare 
 
 not ! He is skilled 
 Even from the impossible to find escape. 
 
 Heph. This arm, at least, is fixed beyond 
 
 release. 
 Might. This, too, now fetter sure ; so he 
 
 may learn 
 
 That he, though wise, is not so keen as Zeus. 
 Heph. No one, save him, has cause for wrath 
 
 toward me ! 
 Might. Now pitilessly drive straight through 
 
 his breast 
 With strength this adamantine wedge's tooth. 
 
 It is now, at any rate, evident that the 
 part of Prometheus is not here taken 
 by a living actor. It is only a great 
 image which is thus fastened to the 
 rock ; and as Force is a mute, this scene, 
 as well as the rest of the play, could be 
 performed by two actors. 
 
 Heph. Alas! Prometheus, for thy woes I 
 
 mourn. 
 Might. Dost thou again delay, and mourn the 
 
 foe 
 
 Of Zeus ? Perchance thou 'It pity yet thyself ! 
 Heph. Thou seest a vision hard for eyes to 
 
 view. 
 
 Might. I only see one meeting his deserts. 
 But cast the girdling bands about his sides. 
 Heph. Be not too urgent, since this needs 
 
 must be. 
 Might. But I will urge thee, and proclaim it, 
 
 too. 
 
 Do thou descend, and bind in rings his legs. 
 Heph. Behold, the deed without great toil 
 
 is wrought. 
 
 Might. Now smite the piercing anklets vig- 
 orously, 
 
 For harsh is he who is censor of our task. 
 Heph. The utterance of thy tongue is as 
 
 thy shape ! 
 
 Might and his companion are evidently 
 made repulsive by hideous masks. 
 
 Might. Play thou the weakling ; but do not 
 
 revile 
 
 My sternness and the harshness of my wrath. 
 Heph. Let us depart. His limbs are fettered 
 now. 
 
 And gathering up his tools, the soft- 
 hearted smith beats a hasty retreat, but 
 Might lingers to address a taunting word 
 of farewell to the silent sufferer : 
 
 Be insolent here ! Steal now the rights of 
 
 gods, 
 And fetch them to ephemeral men! How, 
 
 pray, 
 
 May mortals rescue thee from this distress ? 
 Thou falsely art of gods Prometheus called, 
 For thou hast need of forethought for thyself, 
 How thou shalt extricate thee from these 
 
 bonds. 
 
 Hereupon Might and Force also depart. 
 Prometheus, left alone, breaks his dis- 
 dainful silence, and appeals for sympa- 
 thy to the powers of nature about him. 
 A modern poet, even a Shelley or a 
 Scott, only tries to fancy that winds and 
 waves, sun and earth, sympathize with 
 man. To ^Eschylus and especially in 
 this drama the world actually is full 
 of life in myriad forms which are more 
 real than humanity itself. 
 
 The same actor who played Hephais- 
 tos now speaks, from behind the image 
 on the cliff, as Prometheus. The other 
 player will appear successively as Okea- 
 nos, lo, and Hermes. 
 
 Prometheus. air divine, and breezes fleet 
 
 of wing ! 
 
 Ye river-sources, and the deep-sea waves' 
 Innumerable laugh ! great mother Earth ! 
 And on the sun's all-seeing disc I call ! 
 See ye what I, a god, endure from gods. 
 Do ye behold in what disgrace 
 Wasting away through unnumbered years 
 I shall endure ? For the youthful lord 
 Of the Blessed Ones has contrived for me 
 
 Such unseemly bonds. 
 Alas ! for the evils both now and to come 
 I lament, What, pray, is destined to be 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 215 
 
 The limit for these my sorrows ? 
 And yet, what say I ? All do I foreknow 
 Exactly that shall be ; nor unforeseen 
 Shall any trouble come. My destined fate 
 With resignation I should bear, who know 
 The strength resistless of Necessity. 
 
 But I can neither tell nor leave untold 
 My lot. For bringing gifts to men in these 
 Perplexities I wretchedly am bound. 
 The source of fire within the hollow reed 
 I sought by stealth, which has become for men 
 Teacher of every art, and great resource. 
 But this atonement for my sins I pay, 
 Being aloft in air bound fast in chains. 
 
 Ah, ah ! 
 
 What echo, what odor unseen, to me flits, 
 Divine or mortal, or of both combined ? 
 Unto the hill on the bounds of the world 
 Comes he to view my woes, or seeking what ? 
 Behold me bound, a god in evil plight ! * 
 A foe unto Zeus, and with all the gods 
 Into enmity have I fallen, whoso 
 Are permitted to enter the courtyard of 
 
 Zeus, 
 
 Because of my too great love for mankind. 
 What rustling of birds do I perceive 
 Yet again at hand ? And the air resounds 
 With the lightsome whirring of their wings. 
 I dread whatever approaches ! 
 
 The sea-nymphs, daughter of Okeanos 
 (Ocean) and Tethys, have heard in 
 their grotto under the sea the sound of 
 Hephaistos' hammer, and, suspecting that 
 Prometheus may be the victim, they have 
 bravely hastened forth to proffer sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 They enter singing, as they ride in a 
 chariot through the air. Prometheus 
 answers in the lively anapaestic form of 
 recitative. This passage is the Parodos, 
 as the Oceanids constitute the chorus of 
 the tragedy. They have overheard Pro- 
 metheus' last words ; indeed, they were 
 probably then already visible to the 
 spectators, though the fettered Prome- 
 theus is supposed to be unable to turn 
 his head to see and greet them. 
 
 PARODOS. 
 
 Chorus. Have no dread ! A friendly band 
 
 is ours, 
 
 That with fleet contending wings, 
 Not with ease the father' s mind beguiling, 
 Toward this rocky hill has come. 
 
 For the sound of beaten brass had darted 
 
 Through the hollows of our caverns, 
 Banishing my shy reserve. Unsandaled, 
 
 On my winged car I hastened forth. 
 
 Prometheus. Ah me ! Ah me ! 
 Ye offspring of Tethys, in children rich, 
 And sprung from him who about the world 
 Winds with his ever-unresting stream, 
 The father Okeanos, look ! Behold 
 In what captivity impaled 
 On the topmost crags of this ravine 
 
 An unenvied watch I am keeping ! 
 
 Clio. I behold, Prometheus ! To my eyes 
 
 Rushed a fearful mist 
 Full of tears, as I descried thy flgwre 
 
 Wasting on the rocks away, 
 In thy shameful adamantine fetters. 
 Youthful pilots rule Olympus ; 
 Zeus with novel laws tyrannic governs ; 
 
 What was mighty once is now unseen. 
 
 Prom. Oh that under the earth and to Ha- 
 des' abode 
 He had cast me, to boundless Tartaros 
 
 That receiveth the dead, 
 
 And set me in bonds that could not be loosed, 
 Where neither a god nor aught else that 
 lives 
 
 Had rejoiced thereat ! 
 
 Now, wretched, the sport of the breezes of 
 heaven, 
 
 I endure 'mid the foes' exultation. 
 
 Cho. Who of gods is so unfeeling 
 
 That to him this brings enjoyment ? 
 Who but grieves with thee in trouble, 
 
 Zeus alone except ? But he 
 Wrathful holds a heart unbending, 
 
 While he sways the heavenly race. 
 He will yield not ere his soul be sated, 
 Or by some device his kingship, 
 
 Hard to win, be wrested from his grasp. 
 
 Prom. Yet surely of me, although I am 
 In merciless fetters and suffering wrong, 
 The chief of the Blessed will feel the need, 
 To reveal that new decision whereby 
 He of honors and sceptre bereft shall be. 
 Nor by Persuasion's honeyed charms 
 
 Will I be beguiled, 
 
 Nor yet from dread of his terrible threats 
 Will I this secret to him make known, 
 Until he release me from pitiless bonds, 
 
 And shall consent 
 To make for this shame an atonement. 
 
 Cho. Rash thou art, and no submission 
 
 Makest in thy bitter anguish ; 
 All too bold the words thou speakest ; 
 
 Piercing terror stirs my soul. 
 For thy fate am I affrighted, 
 
 Wondering where, from these thy toils, 
 Thou shalt anchor and behold a haven, 
 Since a nature unrelenting 
 
 And a stubborn heart hath Kronos" 1 son. * 
 
216 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 Prom. Full well I know that Zeus is harsh, 
 And holds that with him all justice abides. 
 
 Yet milder of mood 
 
 Some day he will be, when crushed thereunto. 
 Then shall he allay his unyielding wrath, 
 And with me in my eagerness eagerly he 
 
 Into friendship and league will enter. 
 
 Here the Parodos ends, and a calmer 
 dialogue follows between the great suf- 
 ferer and the sympathizing sea-nymphs. 
 We may call this the beginning of the 
 first episode, though these technical di- 
 visions are not so clearly marked as in 
 later Greek dramas. Especially is this 
 true of a play which, like the present one, 
 admits of little action after the opening 
 scene. 
 
 FIRST EPISODE. 
 
 Chorus. Do thou reveal and tell us all the 
 
 tale; 
 
 Upon what charge has Zeus laid hold on thee, 
 And treats thee bitterly and shamefully ? 
 Instruct us, if thy words shall work no harm. 
 Prometheus. Even to speak thereof is pain 
 
 to me, 
 
 But silence too is pain, and every way 
 Is woe. 
 
 When first the gods began their wrath, 
 And strife against each other was aroused, 
 Some wishing to drive Kronos from his seat, 
 That Zeus, they said, might reign ; but some, 
 
 again, 
 Earnest that Zeus shonld never rule the 
 
 gods, 
 
 Then I, who would have won to shrewder plans 
 The Titans, progeny of Heaven and Earth, 
 Availed not ; but all crafty artifice 
 Disdaining in their strength and pride, they 
 
 thought 
 By violence easily to be supreme. 
 
 Prometheus' real sympathies, then, were, 
 by his own confession, on the side of 
 Kronos and the Titans, against Zeus. 
 
 But not once only had my mother Themis, 
 And Earth, one figure under many names, 
 Foretold how destiny should be fulfilled : 
 That not by force, nor yet through violence, 
 But by their craft should the victorious rule. 
 
 Yet when with arguments I showed them this, 
 They did not deign to glance at it at all. 
 In such conditions surely it appeared 
 Wisest for me, winning my mother's aid, 
 Gladly to succor Zeus, who welcomed me. 
 
 Prometheus is not describing his own 
 
 action as a very creditable one. He aids 
 Zeus because he is sure to win, after 
 failing to induce his own proper allies to 
 adopt craftier measures. 
 And through my plans the deep and darksome 
 
 vault 
 
 Of Tartaros holds ancient Kronos now, 
 With his allies. 
 
 The tyrant of the gods, 
 Having received sueh benefits from me, 
 Requited me with recompense so base ; 
 For this is somehow a disease innate 
 In tyranny, to put no trust in friends. 
 
 And as for what ye ask, upon what charge 
 He thus maltreats me, that will I make clear. 
 When he was seated on his father's throne, 
 Straightway to various divinities 
 He allotted various honors, and his realm 
 Divided ; but for wretched men he showed 
 Nowise regard, and, blotting out their race, 
 Desired another new one to create. 
 And this not one opposed except myself ; 
 But I did venture, and released mankind, 
 Who else had perished and to Hades fared. 
 And therefore with such tortures am I bound, 
 Grievous to suffer, piteous to behold. 
 By pitying mortals I have not deserved 
 This treatment, yet I ruthlessly am brought 
 To order thus ; for Zeus a shameful sight ! 
 
 -ZEsehylus has modified the account of 
 Hesiod in important respects. There isl 
 no hint of a fall of man from a previ4 
 ous happier state. The dishonest sacri- 
 fice, as well as the consequent wrath of 
 Zeus, and also the creation of Pando- 
 ra, have vanished from the tale. Such 
 legends were without doubt beneath the 
 dignity of the conception formed by JEs- 
 chylus of the supreme deity, but their 
 disappearance leaves Zeus' desire to de- 
 stroy mankind quite unexplained. 
 
 Prometheus is no doubt sincere in his 
 > criticism, but he has failed to compre- 
 \hend fully the scope of Zeus' plans. The!. 
 destruction of the present mortal racejl 
 was to be accomplished only in order toB 
 prepare the earth for fitter inhabitants.,] 
 Such an annihilation of humanity for its 
 unworthiness is a familiar feature in 
 Greek as well as in Oriental tradition. 
 Indeed, in the Works and Days, the 
 race then living is supposed to be the 
 last of five wholly distinct successive 
 creations. Hence the mere statement 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 217 
 
 of his intention to destroy the exist- 
 ing race would not necessarily stamp 
 Zeus as a cruel and arbitrary tyrant, 
 nor justify the resistance of Prometheus, 
 though it does, of course, secure for the 
 sufferer the sympathy and gratitude of 
 mankind. 
 
 It is curious that in the Works and 
 Days Hesiod (if it is he) repeats in 
 somewhat altered form the tale of Pro- 
 metheus and Pandora related in the 
 Theogony. The former poem, however, 
 does not appear to have influenced ^Es- 
 chylus in any important detail of his 
 drama ; and it would perhaps be difficult 
 to prove even that he was acquainted 
 with it. 
 
 Zeus' failure to carry out his project 
 indicates that his power is not unlimited. 
 That is indeed a notion almost inherent 
 in any polytheistic creed. The Zeus of 
 -ZEschylus is a most noble and lofty fig- 
 ure; but the poet deals cautiously, in 
 fact reverently, with the traditions of 
 his ancestors, even when they weaken 
 somewhat the simple majesty of his own 
 conception. Many of the myths he de- 
 liberately avoids ; in some he tries to 
 bring out a worthier significance ; but 
 he cannot openly combat even the most 
 repulsive. A very similar spirit per- 
 vades Pindar's poems, and is clearly 
 avowed in his treatment of the Pelops 
 myth, in which the Blessed Gods had 
 been represented as cannibals. 
 
 We must never forget that this whole 
 speech of Prometheus is an ex parte 
 statement of a rebel ; heroic, indeed, 
 self-sacrificing, and sincere, yet a rebel, 
 who eventually sees and confesses his 
 short-sightedness and error, binds his 
 brows with the willow of repentance, 
 and puts upon his finger the iron ring 
 of submission. 
 
 Chorus. Of iron soul and wrought of stone 
 
 is he 
 
 Who with thy troubles sympathizes not, 
 Prometheus. I desired not to behold 
 The sight, and seeing it am pained at heart. 
 Prometheus. A wretched sight indeed for 
 friends am I. 
 
 Cho. No further, even, didst thou go than 
 
 that? 
 Prom. I rescued mortals from foreseeing 
 
 fate. 
 
 Whatever the poet's intention may be 
 in this mysterious allusion, we shall prob- 
 ably agree that it is a blessing not to 
 foresee the destiny which we are help- 
 less to avert. It is strange that Prome- 
 theus should be the power mentioned as 
 depriving men of any prophetic insight. 
 The allusion is perhaps to that over- 
 whelming dread of immifient death which 
 paralyzes human activity. 
 
 Cho. What remedy hast thou found for that 
 
 disease ? 
 Prom. Blind hopes have I implanted in 
 
 their souls. 
 Cho. Thou gavest mighty aid thereby to 
 
 men. 
 
 Prom. And fire besides I did convey to them. 
 Cho. Ephemeral men have now the blazing 
 
 fire? 
 Prom. Ay, and through that shall learn 
 
 full many arts. 
 
 Cho. Upon such accusations, then, does Zeus 
 Maltreat thee, and relaxes not thy woes. 
 But to thy struggle is no limit set ? 
 
 Prom. No other but whenever pleases him. 
 Cho. How shall he wish it, or what hope is 
 
 there ? 
 Dost thou not see thine error ? That thou 
 
 erredst 
 
 For me to say is pain, and grief to thee. 
 But leave we that. Seek some escape from 
 
 toils. 
 Prom. Lightly may he who is secure from 
 
 woes 
 
 Advise and chide that one who fareth ill. 
 And all that thou hast said full well I know. 
 Of my free will I erred, I do confess. 
 Through aiding mortals I have come to grief ; 
 Yet did not think with such a penalty 
 To wither on these rocks aloft in air, 
 Chancing on this deserted friendless hill. 
 Yet do not ye my present woes bewail, 
 But earthward come, and what shall yet befall 
 Hear, that ye all unto the end may learn. 
 Obey, and share the toil of him who now 
 Is troubled. Wandering calamity 
 Comes likewise at some time to many a one. 
 
 That is, disdain not him who now is 
 suffering and disgraced. Time may 
 yet bring round his revenges. 
 
 Cho. Not upon the reluctant hast thou en- 
 joined, 
 
218 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 O Prometheus, this. 
 And deserting now my rushing car, 
 And the sacred ether, the bird's highway, 
 To the rugged earth do I approach ; 
 
 And I fain in full 
 Would hear the account of thy sorrows. 
 
 But as the nymphs are alighting, their 
 father, Okeanos, comes riding in upon 
 a griffin or hippocamp. -ZEschylus is 
 fond of such daring devices and gro- 
 tesque appearances as this, and makes 
 much greater demands upon the stage 
 machinery than does Euripides. Oke- 
 anos is a type of timid, time-serving 
 good-will. He will aid Prometheus, 
 especially with prudent advice, so long 
 as his sympathy does not endanger his 
 own comfort. Prometheus receives him 
 with marked impatience, and eagerly 
 dismisses him with scantiest courtesy. 
 
 Okeanos. To the goal of my far-away journey 
 
 I come, 
 
 Which I, Prometheus, to thee have made, 
 This fleet-winged bird without a bit 
 Guiding by force of my will alone. 
 And know that I sorrow with thee in distress. 
 For indeed methinks our kindred blood 
 
 Compels me to this ; 
 
 And besides that tie, there is no one whom 
 I in greater regard would hold than thee. 
 And thou shalt perceive how since-re are my 
 
 words, 
 
 Nor known to my tongue are courtesies vain. 
 Come, how I can aid thee I pray thee make 
 
 known, 
 
 For thou never shalt say that any friend 
 Thou hast than Okeanos stancher. 
 Prometheus. Well, what is this ? Art thou 
 
 too come to view 
 My tortures ? How, pray, hast thou dared to 
 
 leave 
 The stream that bears thy name, and thy 
 
 rock-roofed 
 
 Natural grottoes, to approach the earth, 
 Mother of iron ? Art thou come, indeed, 
 To see my fate, and sympathize in woes ? 
 Gaze, then, upon the sight. The friend of Zeus, 
 Who aided in establishing his rule, 
 See with what tortures I through him am 
 
 bowed. 
 Okean. I see, Prometheus, and would offer 
 
 thee 
 
 The best advice, ingenious though thou art. 
 Know thine own self, and take on thee new 
 
 ways, 
 
 For new, too, is the tyrant of the gods. 
 But if thou hurlest forth such biting words 
 
 And harsh, it may be Zeus, though high aloft 
 He sits, will hear ; and so this present wrath 
 Shall seem but mockery of suffering. 
 
 (Zeus does indeed hear. Every whis- 
 per beneath the dome of the cold, cheer- 
 less sky is reechoed to his throne ; and 
 the remembrance of this will add great- 
 ly to the impressiveness of the whole 
 drama.) 
 
 Unhappy one, restrain thine ire within, 
 And seek for a relief from this distress. 
 Foolish my words, perchance, appear to thee ; 
 But yet such are indeed the penalties, 
 Prometheus, of a too presumptuous tongue. 
 Not yet thou 'rt humble, nor by troubles bowed, 
 But wishest to bring others yet on thee. 
 If thou wilt take me for thy counselor, 
 Thou wilt not kick against the goad, because 
 A monarch harsh and uncontrolled hath power. 
 
 But I am going now, and I will try 
 If I may from this torture set thee free. 
 Do thou be quiet, and not bold of speech. 
 Or dost thou not well know, though overwise, 
 That punishment befalls a froward tongue ? 
 Prom. I envy thee, that free from blame 
 
 thou art, 
 
 Who yet hast dared and shared in all with me. 
 But now refrain, and trouble not thyself. 
 Thou 'It not persuade him ; he 's not trac- 
 table ; 
 
 Be cautious, lest thy errand harm thyself. 
 Okean. Fitter by far art thou to instruct 
 
 thy friends 
 Than thine own self : by facts, not words, I 
 
 judge. 
 
 But do not check me in my eagerness ; 
 For I declare that Zeus will grant to me 
 This boon, and so release thee from thy toils. 
 Prom. I thank thee, but will nowise ever 
 
 yield. 
 
 Thou lackest not for zeal, yet trouble not 
 Thyself ; for all in vain, not aiding me, 
 Thou 'It take the trouble, if indeed thou 
 wilt. 
 
 There is evidently some irritation aroused 
 on both sides ; and Prometheus does 
 not seem quite sure even of Okeanos' 
 sincerity in offering to intercede. 
 But prithee hold thy peace, and stand aloof ; 
 For though my fate be hard, I not for that 
 Would wish that sorrows might on many fall. 
 
 Ah, no ! my brother's lot distresses me, 
 Atlas, who in the Hesperian region stands, 
 Holding the pillar of the sky and earth 
 Upon his shoulders ; not an easy weight. 
 
 The wearisome task of Atlas brings, 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 219 
 
 perhaps naturally, to Prometheus' mind 
 the somewhat similar fate of the giant 
 Typhon, or Typhceus, who is buried un- 
 der JEtna ; but the length of the digres- 
 sion is certainly surprising. The ex- 
 planation usually given for it is that 
 jEschylus, during a visit to Sicily, had 
 seen a great eruption of JEtna. This 
 had made such an impression upon his 
 mind that he seized upon the opportu- 
 nity to allude to it in his tragedy. 
 
 The earth-born dweller in Cilician caves 
 
 I pitied when I saw, a prodigy 
 
 Most wretched, hundred-headed, held by force : 
 
 Fierce Typhon, who resisted all the gods, 
 
 Hissing out death from his terrific jaws ; 
 
 And from his eyes he sent grim lightnings 
 
 forth. 
 
 The power of Zeus he strove by force to crush. 
 But unto him Zeus' sleepless missile sped, 
 The downward-plunging bolt that breathes out 
 
 flame, 
 
 And all his haughty boasting overwhelmed ; 
 For he was smitten to the very soul, 
 His strength by thunder and by fire destroyed. 
 And now, a helpless, sprawling shape, he lies 
 Near to the narrow channel of the sea, 
 Beneath the roots of ^Etna weighted down. 
 But on the topmost peaks Hephaistos sits, 
 Forging the iron ; whence shall some day break 
 
 forth 
 
 Rivers of fire, with fierce jaws to devour 
 The wide-extending meads of Sicily. 
 So Typhon will pour forth his boiling wrath, 
 With the hot missiles of fire-breathing rain 
 Insatiable, though by Zeus' lightning charred. 
 
 This digression, which by the way close- 
 ly resembles a passage in Pindar's first 
 Pythian ode, does not strengthen the 
 drama. Prometheus seems to forget 
 himself in glorifying the might of Zeus. 
 Again addressing Okeanos directly, he 
 continues : 
 
 Thou art not inexperienced, nor hast need 
 Of me as teacher ; save me as thou canst ; 
 And I my present fortune will endure, 
 Until the spirit of Zeus shall cease from wrath. 
 
 Okean. Art thou, then, O Prometheus, not 
 
 aware 
 
 Words are physicians of a mind diseased ? 
 That is, conciliatory words will calm the 
 wrath of Zeus. 
 
 Prom. If at a fitting time we soothe the 
 
 soul, 
 Not check its rage at height with violence. 
 
 Okean. But in my zeal for thee and veutu- 
 
 rousness 
 What harm dost thou perceive ? Explain to 
 
 me. 
 
 Prom. Superfluous trouble and vain foolish- 
 ness ! 
 Okean. Leave me to suffer with this ailment, 
 
 since 
 He who is sage had best not pass for wise. 
 
 This is no doubt a taunt : " It is perhaps 
 better to be simple, since thy far-famed 
 wisdom brings thee to this sorry pass." 
 
 Prom. The error will be counted as mine 
 
 own. 
 Okean. Thy words dispatch me plainly home 
 
 again. 
 Prom. Lest grief for me should draw his 
 
 hate on thee. 
 
 Okean. His, who but lately holds the al- 
 mighty seat ? 
 Prom. Beware of him, lest he be vexed at 
 
 heart. 
 
 Okean. Calamity, Prometheus, teaches thee. 
 Prom. Set forth. Depart. Hold fast thy 
 
 present mind. 
 Okean. Thy words, already on my way, I 
 
 hear, 
 
 For my four-footed bird skims with his wings 
 The ether's far expanse, and joyfully 
 In his home stables he would bend the knee. 
 
 And borne on his eager griffin, the 
 sea-god straightway vanishes. 
 
 The chorus now sing the first lyrical 
 interlude, commiserating Prometheus : 
 
 FIRST STASIMON. 
 
 I bewail thy fatal doom, Prometheus. 
 
 From my tender eyes 
 Pouring forth a stream of trickling tears, 
 I my cheek have stained with moistening rills. 
 
 Melancholy is thy lot ! 
 Zeus, commanding with his new decrees, 
 
 Unto gods that were of old 
 His imperious sceptre now displays. 
 
 All the earth resounds with lamentation 
 
 Even now, and mourns 
 For the honors, ancient, glorious, 
 By thy kinsmen held of old, and thine. 
 
 All who dwell within 
 Holy Asia's neighboring domain, 
 
 Mortal men, in sympathy 
 Sorrow for thy much-lamented woes. 
 
 Dwellers in the Colchian land, 
 Maidens fearless in the fray, 
 
220 
 
 The Prometheus of ^?Eschylus. 
 
 [August, 
 
 With the Scythian throng, who hold 
 Far-off regions by the lake Mozotis; 
 
 With Arabia's martial flower, 
 They who on the lofty crag 
 Near to Caucasus abide, 
 Furious host that raye with keen-edged lances. 
 
 The fearless maidens are the Ama- 
 zons. We hardly understand an allusion 
 to Arabia in the far North, and Ger- 
 man scholars calmly propose to change 
 the text to " Chalybia's," " Chalkis's," 
 " Aria's," or " The Sarmatians'," a 
 proceeding which a disciple of Professor 
 Goodwin is not likely to approve. Of 
 the city on the lofty crag we know noth- 
 ing whatever ; perhaps it is Ekbatana. 
 
 Only one of Titans heretofore 
 Have I seen subdued, 
 Bound in shameful adamantine chains, 
 
 Atlas the divine ; 
 Who forever, on his mighty back, 
 
 Groaning, holds the sky. 
 Waves that crash together mourn for him, 
 
 Ocean-deeps lament ; 
 
 Hades' darksome subterranean cave resounds, 
 And the holy river-sources mourn his wretched 
 pain. 
 
 The central thought of this ode seems to 
 be : All mankind mourns for Prome- 
 theus ; only the forces of nature express 
 sympathy for his brother Atlas. 
 
 The calm dialogue which must be 
 considered as the second episode of the 
 drama opens with a long and important 
 speech addressed by Prometheus to the 
 chorus. 
 
 SECOND EPISODE. 
 
 Prometheus. Think not in arrogance or stub- 
 bornness 
 I hold my peace. I gnaw my heart with 
 
 thought, 
 
 Seeing myself maltreated as I am. 
 And yet, who else to these new gods, save me, 
 Rendered their honors altogether sure ? 
 But this I leave untold; for I should speak 
 To you who know. 
 
 But hear the former woes 
 Of mortal men, whom, senseless until then, 
 I rendered thoughtful, masters of their wits. 
 I '11 speak, not in resentment toward mankind, 
 But showing my good-will in what I gave. 
 
 At first they, gazing, gazed but fruitlessly ; 
 
 Hearkening, they did not hear, but, like the 
 
 shapes 
 
 Of visions through an age that lasted long, 
 All things confused. Nor knew they sunny 
 
 homes 
 
 Shaped out of bricks, nor handiwork of wood. 
 Beneath the earth they dwelt, like helpless ants, 
 In the unsunned recesses of the caves. 
 
 This sketch of primeval man is said to 
 agree wonderfully with the results of 
 research in our own day. 
 
 And no sure sign had they of winter time, 
 Or flowery spring, or summer rich in fruits ; 
 All things in utter ignorance they did, 
 Until the risings of the stars I showed 
 To them, and settings hard to be discerned. 
 Number, most shrewd device, I found for them, 
 And letters well combined ; and memory, 
 Worker of all things, mother of the muse. 
 
 I was the first who yoked the beasts to bear 
 The collar and the rider, and relieve 
 The race of mortals from their heaviest toils. 
 I harnessed to the car the steeds that love 
 The rein, the pride of wealthiest luxury. 
 And no one else before me did invent 
 The sea-tost, sail-winged craft of mariners. 
 
 So many things have I contrived ah me ! 
 For mortals ; but myself have no device 
 Whereby to free me from my present woe ! 
 
 The pause is gracefully contrived in 
 order to relieve the exhausted actor. It 
 may be remarked here that our poet has 
 clearly no belief in a previous happier 
 state of man. Human life is steadily 
 improving, and the higher powers are 
 all beneficent and helpful to us : Prome- 
 theus, with excessive haste and presump- 
 tion, which make him seem very human, 
 and bring him at last to bitter humil- 
 iation; Zeus, through farther - reaching 
 and more mysterious ways. 
 
 Chorus. A grievous woe is thine ! Bereft of 
 
 sense, 
 
 Thou errest; like a wretched leech fall'n ill, 
 Thou art disheartened, and canst not discover 
 The drugs by which thou mayst thyself be 
 
 healed. 
 Prometheus. Hearing the rest from me, 
 
 thou 'It marvel more, 
 
 Learning what arts and means I have devised. 
 Chiefest of all, if any one fell ill, 
 There was no remedy, nor edible, 
 Nor drink, nor ointment, but for lack of 
 
 drugs 
 They pined away, until I showed to them 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 221 
 
 The ways of mingling- gentle curatives, 
 Wherewith from each disease they guard them- 
 selves. 
 
 The following lines touch upon all the 
 various forms of divination employed by 
 the Greeks : partly from accidental meet- 
 ings, words overheard by chance, etc. ; 
 partly from inspection of the vitals of 
 animals which had been sacrificed : 
 
 And many means of divination I 
 Arranged, and first from dreams what must 
 
 occur 
 In waking hours discerned ; made clear to 
 
 them 
 Mysterious sounds, chance meetings on the 
 
 way. 
 
 The flight of crooked-taloned birds I explained 
 Exactly : which are ominous of good, 
 Which baleful, and the mode of life of each ; 
 And what dislikes they have for one another, 
 Or what affections and companionships. 
 
 (A line is apparently lost, containing 
 the verb " I first interpreted.") 
 The smoothness of the vitals, and what tint 
 They needs must have to please the higher 
 
 powers, 
 The varied shapeliness of bile and liver. 
 
 Burning the limbs enveloped in the fat, 
 And the long chine, I led men to the art 
 Hard to discern. And omens from the flame 
 I showed to them, which were before obscure. 
 
 The " art hard to discern " is the 
 method of deciding, from the appear- 
 ance of the flame during the sacrifice, 
 whether the gods favor an undertaking. 
 This bold allusion is a distinct reminder 
 by our poet that he knows nothing of, 
 and wishes us to ignore, the unworthy 
 tale of the deceitful sacrifice. Men do, 
 indeed, says ^Eschylus, burn the bones, 
 fat, and chine in the gods' honor, and 
 Prometheus did teach us so to do ; but 
 the poet was mistaken who connected the 
 names of Prometheus and Zeus with a 
 tale of petty deception and ignoble re- 
 sentment wreaked upon the guilty and 
 the innocent. 
 
 So much for that. And then the benefits 
 That were for mortals in the earth concealed, 
 Copper, iron, gold, and silver, who would say 
 That he before me had discovered these ? 
 None, I know well, who would not vainly prate. 
 
 And in brief words learn thou at once the 
 
 truth : 
 All arts to mortals through Prometheus came. 
 
 Toward the end of this long speech 
 the allegory seems more transparent than 
 usual. We are inclined to say that a 
 mere personification of human foresight, 
 and not a living divinity, fills the poet's 
 mind. But we must not, for this reason, 
 hastily conclude that the classical dra- 
 matist or auditor doubted the reality of 
 Prometheus. For us, personification is 
 a device of rhetoric. To a savage, to a 
 child, and to the ancient Greek, it is an 
 irresistible instinct. 
 
 And even to us, familiarized from 
 childhood with the terminology of ab- 
 stract thought, with centuries of Puri- 
 tanism behind us, forbidden for ages by 
 our religious teachers to imagine a mul- 
 titude of divine beings, or even to depict 
 the Deity under any form as an individ- 
 ual, how real, in spite of all, is fickle 
 Fortune, as she turns her wheel above 
 the staring crowd, or the little blind love- 
 god, with fluttering wings and quiver full 
 of arrows ! 
 
 It was hard for a Greek to describe 
 or to comprehend the development of an 
 abstract quality. It was easy for him 
 to imagine and to accept a kindly divin- 
 ity, whose especial task it was to inspire 
 foresight in the human heart. 
 
 ^Eschyltis' own tendency is toward 
 monotheism, simply because he sees in 
 the universe evidence of all-wise and 
 omnipotent rule. But it is only a ten- 
 dency, operating within a reverent and 
 conservative nature. He selects and in- 
 terprets myths ; he does not, like Eurip- 
 ides, quarrel with them. The minor 
 characters of the Pantheon are quite as 
 real to him as Zeus. They are noble 
 and generous, also. Their inferiority is 
 quite as much in wisdom as in power. 
 They learn eventually to fall in with 
 Zeus' plans, and to realize that in com- 
 bating and thwarting him they only 
 work evil, despite their good intent. 
 The conception of Zeus, in 
 
222 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 [August, 
 
 soul at any rate, is not so very different 
 from -the Jehovah of the Hebrews. 
 Like him, Zeus is resisted for a time by 
 superhuman rebels and sinners as well 
 as earthly ones. But the digression leads 
 us too far from the dialogue. 
 
 Chorus. Out of due season aid not mortals 
 
 now, 
 
 Neglectful of thyself in wretchedness. 
 For I am hopeful that thou shalt be freed 
 Yet from thy bonds, nor be less strong than 
 
 Zeus. 
 Prometheus. Not so is't fated that these 
 
 things shall be 
 
 By destiny fulfilled. Erst overwhelmed 
 With countless woes shall I escape my bonds ; 
 Craft is far weaker than necessity. 
 
 Cho. Who, then, is pilot of necessity ? 
 Prom. The three-formed Fates, and Furies 
 
 unforgetting. 
 
 Cho. And Zeus is not so mighty, then, as 
 they? 
 
 But even the arch-rebel hesitates to an- 
 swer directly so critical a question as this. 
 His response is intentionally equivocal. 
 Prom. From the allotment he could not 
 
 Cho. What is allotted Zeus, save still to rule ? 
 
 Prom. Be not importunate. This thou mayst 
 not learn. 
 
 Cho. 'Tis something fearful, surely, thou 
 dost hide ! 
 
 Prom. Think ye of other words. To utter 
 
 this 
 
 The time is nowise fit. It must be hid 
 As far as may be ; for, concealing it, 
 From fetters and from pain I shall escape. 
 
 It will be remembered that Prome- 
 theus, through Themis, his mother, 
 knows that in some far future time 
 Zeus, among his numberless celestial 
 and earthly loves, will be attracted to 
 the beautiful Nereid, Thetis, who is 
 destined to bear a son far mightier than 
 his father. It must be constantly kept 
 in mind that this and other similar 
 allusions are overheard by Zeus upon 
 his invisible throne on high. 
 
 Here the second episode closes, if 
 such it may be called when no one has 
 entered or left the stage. The follow- 
 ing choric song expresses the desire for 
 moderate prosperity which is so charac- 
 
 teristic of Greek feeling, followed by a 
 vivid allusion to the wretched mortal 
 race, for which Prometheus is suffering 
 such torture : 
 
 SECOND STASIMON. 
 
 Never against my desire may Zeus, the controller 
 
 of all things, 
 Set his opposing decree ! 
 
 May I not fail, by the father Okeanos' 1 water un- 
 resting, 
 Offering unto the gods 
 
 Banquets sacred of oxen slain. Nor in word be 
 my error ! 
 
 May this by me be attained; let it not vanish 
 away. 
 
 This stanza suggests a charming pic- 
 ture of the graceful sea-nymphs issuing 
 from the waves of their father's realm, 
 and making due sacrifice on the beach 
 to the dreaded higher gods, with all the 
 reverent humility of mortal maidens. 
 Throughout the play these daughters of 
 Tethys are so delightfully girlish in their 
 gentle and almost timid modesty that we 
 are hardly prepared for their unflinch- 
 ing courage in the final crisis. 
 
 Pleasant it some way is, through hopes, that en- 
 couragement bring us, 
 Longer our life to extend ; 
 
 Yet do I shudder with dread, as I gaze upon 
 
 thee, in thy sorrows 
 Numberless wasting away. 
 
 Thou, O Prometheus, fearest not Zeus, but in 
 ivillful endeavor 
 
 Honorest more than is Jit men who are destined 
 to die. 
 
 Lo, how thankless was thy gift, O friend ! 
 
 How may it avail ? 
 From ephemeral men what aid may come ? 
 
 Hast thou not beheld 
 How in helpless, dream-like feebleness 
 Fettered is the sightless human race ? 
 
 Plans of mortals nevermore 
 May the harmony of Zeus evade. 
 
 Such my thoughts as I thy fatal doom, 
 
 O Prometheus, saw ; 
 While another song recurred to me : 
 
 How the nuptial hymn 
 Round about the bath and bed I sang, 
 For thy marriage, when our father's child, 
 
 Won with gifts, Hesione, 
 Thou didst lead to be thy wedded spouse. 
 
 William Cranston Laivton. 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 333 
 
 chapter of our histor^Hnto vivid remem- 
 brance, had we not been'Smticipated by 
 the legislature in voting a cmc monu- 
 ment to Attucks and his associatfesruf- 
 fians. It must be borne in mind that tl 
 State has not yet paid this honor to 
 any one of her generals or statesmt 
 the revolutionary epoch, nor^et^o An- 
 drew, who made himsejl-^uliy their peer 
 in the throesp-"tne country's second 
 birth. About the time when this public 
 
 tribute was decreed to the rioters of the 
 last century, there were within three or 
 four miles of the Stajte-itouse two brutal 
 mobs, profes>iftgto hurl stones and 
 m championship of the rights 
 >r, for whose leaders, had they 
 beenNlam by the police, our legislature 
 must in sM^consistency have voted com- 
 memorative TH^mze or marble, with in- 
 scriptions indicative of public respect, 
 reverence, and gratil 
 
 Andrew Presto Peabody. 
 
 THE PROMETHEUS OF AESCHYLUS. 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. PART II. 
 
 THE third episode of the Prometheus 
 begins with the sudden and unannounced 
 entrance of lo. She is an innocent 
 maiden, daughter of Inachos, an Argive 
 river-god. Being wooed by Zeus, she 
 excited the jealousy of Hera, queen of 
 heaven, whose priestess she had been. 
 Hera partially or wholly transformed her 
 into a cow, and she is wandering over 
 the earth, watched at first, in Hera's in- 
 terest, by the monster Argus, with his 
 hundred eyes ; after his death, goaded 
 on by a gadfly. After world-wide roam- 
 ing, she is to reach the delta-land of 
 the Nile, where she will find rest, and 
 in after years bear to Zeus a son, Epa- 
 phos. 
 
 lo seems, therefore, to be a signal 
 example of injured innocence, suffering 
 through the lawless caprice of Zeus. 
 Prometheus so regards her ; but the spec- 
 tator is aware, and is, in fact, informed 
 by Prometheus in this very scene, that 
 her later life will be happy and honored, 
 and that she is to be " the mother of a 
 mighty race ; " how mighty and glorious, 
 indeed, Prometheus little knows. Here 
 again, therefore, Prometheus, with his 
 much-vaunted prophetic wisdom, is re- 
 garded by the poet as too short-sighted 
 
 rightly to measure the far-reaching be- 
 neficence of Zeus. 
 
 This strange character, lo, was origi- 
 nally, according to the interpretation 
 usually accepted, merely the wide-wan- 
 dering moon. The many watching eyes 
 of Argus are the stars of heaven. What- 
 ever its starting-point, however, the myth 
 has certainly been modified through the 
 knowledge obtained by early Greeks of 
 the horned Egyptian goddess Isis, and 
 of Apis, who appeared in the form of a 
 bull. Indeed, Epaphos, the name of 
 lo's son, is stated by Herodotus to be 
 merely the Greek form of the Egyptian 
 name Apis. 
 
 In Greek works of art lo is often 
 represented as a cow. In our tragedy 
 she has a human face and figure, but is 
 horned. The monster Argus has been 
 slain already by Hermes, Zeus' son and 
 trusty messenger ; but as this fact would 
 tend to give a better impression regard- 
 ing Zeus' treatment of lo, Hermes' name 
 is here suppressed, for dramatic reasons. 
 
 Itjnay be added that the poet's excuse 
 for drawing- into his plot the pathetic 
 figure of I<>. which so effectively height- 
 ens the momentary impression of Zeus 
 as a cruelly unjust tyrant, is that her 
 
334 
 
 The Prometheus of ^Eschylus. 
 
 [September, 
 
 descendant in the thirteenth generation, 
 Heracles, is to release Prometheus. 
 
 THIRD EPISODE. 
 
 Io (staring wildly about her). What land, 
 and what race ? Whom, pray, do I see 
 Yonder, so curbed in a bridle of stone 
 
 And beaten by storms ? 
 Of what misdeeds does he suffer the pains ? 
 
 Reveal to me where 
 On the earth I in misery wander. 
 Ah me ! ah me ! 
 
 In rising excitement, Io bursts into a 
 lyric lament over her wretched fate : 
 
 Still the gadfly stings me, wretched one ! 
 Avaunt ! Alas ! with dread 
 
 Earth-born Argus' shape 
 I behold, the herdsman hundred-eyed, 
 Who with crafty glance doth go, 
 Whom not even in death the earth conceals ! 
 In my misery he hounds me, 
 Crossing from the dead below ; 
 Drives me fasting over pebbly beaches ! 
 
 The pipe Io now fancies she hears is 
 perhaps a reminiscence of the music 
 with which Hermes lulled Argus into a 
 deep sleep before slaying him : 
 Soft and clear the well-waxed reed resounds 
 
 Slumbrous melody ! 
 Whither do my wanderings lead me on, 
 
 Wanderings afar ? 
 How, I pray, O son of Kronos, how 
 Hast thou found me sinful, who am yoked 
 
 Thus to agonies ? 
 Why with goading terror waste away 
 
 So a trembling, frenzied girl ? 
 Burn me ! Hide me in the earth ! Or give me 
 To sea-monsters for a prey ! 
 Do not grudge for me 
 This, O lord, my prayer ! 
 Long enough my wanderings manifold 
 
 Weary me, nor can I learn 
 Where my miseries I may escape. 
 Dost thou hear the horned maiden's cry ? 
 
 And Prometheus accepts a an appeal 
 to himself what were really the closing 
 words of lo's prayer to Zeus, and re- 
 sponds : 
 
 Why hear I not the gadfly- driven girl, 
 Inachos' child, who warmed the heart of Zeus 
 With passion, and a journey exceeding- long-, 
 Hated of Hera, now perforce completes ? 
 
 Io is amazed at this familiarity with 
 her mishaps : 
 
 Who thou art who speak" 1 st my father's name, 
 Tell a wretched one. 
 
 Prithee, who, O sufferer, in my pain, 
 
 Rightly greets me thus ? 
 Thou hast told my curse, by gods imposed, 
 Which doth waste and goad me woe is 
 mine ! 
 
 With its maddening sting. 
 Pangs of hunger drove me bounding on, 
 
 In my furious haste, 
 Victim to the plots of foes infuriate. 
 
 Who, alas, of wretches, who 
 
 Suffers like to me ? 
 
 But, I pray, reveal 
 Plainly what awaits me yet to bear : 
 
 What the limit or the cure 
 For my troubles, if thou knowest, say ; 
 
 Speak, and tell a wretched wandering maid. 
 
 To this request Prometheus readily ac- 
 cedes, and a dialogue in calmer tone be- 
 gins : 
 
 Prometheus. Plainly 1 '11 tell thee all thou 
 
 fain wouldst learn, 
 
 Not weaving- riddles, but in simple speech, 
 Even as is right to unseal the lips to friends. 
 Thou seest Prometheus, giver of fire to men. 
 
 The name, though not the figure, of the 
 devoted lover of mortals is evidently 
 well known to the Argive girl. She re- 
 plies : 
 
 Thou general blessing of mankind, for what, 
 Wretched Prometheus, art thou suffering so ? 
 
 Prom. I ceased but now bewailing my dis- 
 tress. 
 
 Io. This boon, then, unto me thou wilt not 
 grant ? 
 
 Prom. Speak what thou wilt. All niayst 
 thou learn from me. 
 
 Io. Tell who in this ravine has bound thee 
 fast. 
 
 Prom. Hephaistos' hand, but the decree of 
 Zeus. 
 
 Io. And for what sins dost thou atonement 
 pay? 
 
 But Prometheus cannot endure this rep- 
 etition of the sea-nymph's inquiries, to 
 which he has made full response, and 
 curtly answers : 
 
 So much alone may I reveal to thee. 
 lo's thoughts turn at once to the pro- 
 phetic knowledge which the Titan doubt- 
 less possesses concerning herself : 
 
 Io. Yet show me, too, what time shall be 
 
 the goal 
 For me of wandering and of suffering. 
 
 Prom. Herein is knowledge worse than ig- 
 norance ! 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 335 
 
 Io. Pray hide not from me what I must en- 
 dure. 
 
 Prom. This boon, indeed, I do not envy thee. 
 
 Io. Why dost thou hesitate to utter all ? 
 
 Prom. I grudge not, but am loath to vex 
 thy soul. 
 
 Jo. Shield me not more than I myself desire. 
 
 Prom. Since thou art eager, I must speak : 
 
 attend ! 
 
 But here the leader of the chorus inter- 
 rupts Prometheus, and insists that lo's 
 previous mishaps be first narrated. In 
 general, the reader will admire the skill 
 with which the long story of Io is divided 
 and taken up into the dialogue, instead 
 of being permitted to detach itself from 
 the drama proper, like the long speeches 
 of Euripides' messengers. In such mat- 
 ters JEschylus by no means seems to ^f do 
 right without knowing why," as Sopho- 
 cles is stated to have remarked. It is 
 rather the elaborate skill of an artist 
 fully conscious of his art. 
 
 Chorus. Not yet! Accord me too in that 
 
 delight 
 
 A share. Her troubles first let us inquire, 
 While she narrates to us her weary fate. 
 Her later toils let her be taught by thee. 
 
 Prom. Io, to gratify them is thy task ; 
 The more as they are sisters of thy sire. 
 
 (Again ^Eschylus follows the Theogony 
 of Hesiod, who says : 
 
 " Tethys unto Okeanos bore the eddying riv- 
 ers." 
 
 Hence Inachos, the river-god, lo's fa- 
 ther, is brother to the sea-nymphs, who 
 are also children of the same parents. 
 It may be remarked, however, that lo's 
 nature, and also her former life in her 
 father's home, seem to be described 
 quite as if she were a mere mortal 
 maiden.) 
 
 For to bewail and mourn our destiny, 
 
 When we are likely to obtain a tear 
 
 From those who listen, well repays the time. 
 
 Io. I know not why I should not trust in you, 
 And you shall hear all that which you desire, 
 In simple speech. I grieve even while I tell 
 How on me, in my wretchedness, there came 
 This heaven-sent tempest, and my loss of form. 
 
 For nightly visions, haunting evermore 
 My maiden-chamber, with their gentle words 
 Enticed me : ' ' Wherefore, O most blessed 
 maid, 
 
 Dost tarry long a virgin, when thou mayst 
 The loftiest nuptials gain ? For Zeus is struck 
 By passion's dart, through thee, and fain would 
 
 join 
 With thee in love. And spurn not, girl, the 
 
 couch 
 
 Of Zeus, but to the fertile mead go forth 
 Of Lerne, to thy father's flocks and stalls, 
 And sate the eye of Zeus of his desire.' ' 
 
 And with such visions every night was I, 
 Poor wretch, encompassed, till I dared to tell 
 My sire what dreams in darkness came to me. 
 And he to Pytho and Dodona sent 
 Repeated messengers, to learn what he 
 Must do or say to please the powers divine. 
 
 (Pytho is the original name of Delphi. 
 Dodona is a still more ancient oracle of 
 Zeus, among the oak-groves of Epirus.) 
 
 They came reporting dubious oracles, 
 111 understood, mysteriously phrased. 
 
 At last arrived an utterance distinct, 
 That speaking plainly enjoined on Inachos 
 To thrust me from my home and fatherland 
 To wander far on earth's remotest bounds. 
 If he would not, the fiery bolt from Zeus 
 Would come, and utterly destroy his race. 
 
 Urged on by such replies of Loxias, 
 He drove me forth and barred me from his 
 
 home, 
 
 Against his will and mine. The curb of Zeus 
 Forced him by violence to do the deed. 
 Straightway distorted were my form and mind- 
 Horned, as ye behold me, goaded on 
 By the shrill gadfly, with a frantic bound 
 I darted toward Kerchneia's current sweet, 
 And Lerne 's source. Insatiate in his rage, 
 The earth-born herdsman, Argus, followed me, 
 Watching with countless eyes the paths I trod. 
 But unexpectedly a sudden fate 
 Bereft him of his life ; yet, gadfly-driven, 
 I wander, scourged of gods, from land to land. 
 
 Thou hearest what has been. If thou canst 
 
 tell 
 
 What toils remain, speak out ! Nor, pitying me, 
 Console me with untruthful words. A bane 
 Most shameful do I call deceitful tales. 
 
 The sea-nymphs' sympathies are deep- 
 ly stirred by lo's pathetic story, and 
 they cry out in excited tones : 
 
 Ah me ! Ah me ! Befrain ! Alas ! 
 Never had I prayed that alien words 
 
 To my ears should come, 
 Nor that sorrows, griefs, and terrors 
 
 Hard to see and hard to bear, 
 With their goad two-edged should chill my soul. 
 
 Destiny, destiny ! Woe is me ! 
 * Shuddering on lo'sfate I look ! 
 
336 
 
 The Protnetheus of JEscJiylus. 
 
 [September, 
 
 The uncomplaining sufferer upon the 
 cliff says calmly : 
 
 Beforehand thou dost groan, and full of fright 
 Art thou ; but hold, until the rest thou hear. 
 Cho. Speak thou, explain. To those in trou- 
 ble, sweet 
 It is to know in full the pain to come. 
 
 The curiosity of the ocean-nymphs con- 
 cerning lo's previous experiences being 
 fully gratified, Prometheus takes up the 
 tale of her later wanderings. Address- 
 ing first the chorus, he begins : 
 
 Lightly your former wish, at least, have ye 
 Obtained from me ; for first ye craved to hear 
 While she related all her own distress. 
 Now hearken to the rest : what sufferings 
 This girl at Hera's hand must yet endure. 
 ( To lo. ) Inachos' child, take thou to heart 
 
 my words, 
 
 That thou mayst wholly learn thy journey's 
 goal. 
 
 The vague geographical ideas embodied 
 in the following account of lo's adven- 
 tures were doubtless derived from the 
 Greeks, who had established trading- 
 posts in the Crimea and upon the neigh- 
 boring shores of the Black Sea. Stu- 
 dents of Herodotus will be frequently 
 reminded, during this whole scene, of 
 his later and somewhat more accurate 
 accounts. 
 
 From here, first, toward the risings of the sun 
 Turn thou, and tread across the fields untilled. 
 Thou 'It reach the nomad Scythians, who aloft 
 In wicker-huts on well-wheeled wagons dwell, 
 Equipped with bows, and arrows flying far. 
 Approach them not, but, keeping close thy feet 
 To the sea-beaten coast, pass through the land. 
 
 And on the left hand dwell the Chalybes, 
 Workers of iron, whom thou needs must shun. 
 Untamed are they, unfriendly unto guests. 
 Thou 'It reach the Hybristes River, rightly 
 named. 
 
 (That is, River of Outrage.) 
 
 This cross not, for 't is difficult to ford, 
 Until the highest Caucasus itself 
 Thou nearest, where the river bursts in might 
 From the rock's face. The summits, near the 
 
 stars, 
 Thou needs must climb, and southward turn 
 
 thy way. 
 
 Then to the host of Amazons thou 'It come, 
 Haters of men, who shall hereafter dwell 
 
 By the Thermodon at Themyskyra. 
 There is the cruel Salmydessian strait, 
 Unkind to sailors, step-mother of ships. 
 They will be guides for thee right joyfully. 
 
 Io, it appears, can safely trust the wo- 
 manly feeling of the Amazons. Inci- 
 dentally, JEschylus endeavors to rec- 
 oncile the accounts which placed this 
 mythical race near the river Thermo- 
 don, in Northern Asia Minor, -with the 
 less familiar legend which located the 
 nation of warrior women about the Sea 
 of Azof. For this is the evident object 
 of the prophecy of a migration in later 
 times, a matter of no concern to Io or 
 the daughters of Okeanos. 
 
 And now at the sea's narrow gates, thou 'It 
 
 come 
 
 To the Kimmerian isthmus. Fearlessly 
 Leave this, and traverse the Maeotian strait. 
 The story of thy passage shall be famed 
 Among mankind forever. Bosporus 
 Shall it be called. But leaving Europe's plain, 
 Thou 'It reach the Asian mainland. 
 
 (The Bos-poros, "cow-ford " according 
 to the popular but probably erroneous 
 etymology, is the channel just east of 
 the Crimea, and is regarded by the dra- 
 matist as the boundary between the con- 
 tinents. All the regions heretofore men- 
 tioned are to be assigned to Europe.) 
 
 Here the poet avails himself of the 
 opportunity for a natural pause. 
 
 Dost thou deem 
 
 The king of gods in all his acts alike 
 Lawless ? He wished, a god, to join to him 
 This mortal, and such wanderings has imposed ! 
 A bitter suitor for thy wedlock thou 
 Hast found, O girl ! for what thou now hast 
 
 heard 
 
 Consider hardly as the prelude yet ! 
 Io. Oh, woe is me ! 
 Prom. Thou criest again, and deeply groan- 
 
 est? What 
 
 When thou hast learned the evils that remain ! 
 Cho. Wilt thou, pray, tell her more of trou- 
 bles yet ? 
 
 Prom. A harsh and stormy sea of fatal woe ! 
 Io. What profits, then, my life ? Why did 
 
 I not 
 
 Cast myself down at once from this rude crag, 
 Earthward to plunge, and gain from all my 
 
 toils 
 
 Release ? Far better is it once to die 
 Than all our days to suffer wretchedly. 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of ^Eschylus. 
 
 337 
 
 There is both pity and disdain in the 
 Titan's tone, as he contrasts her repining 
 and his own stoicism ; his centuries of 
 agonizing torture and her briefer pilgrim- 
 age, with peace and glory assured to her 
 beyond it : 
 
 Prom. Truly thou wouldst endure my ag- 
 ony 
 
 But weakly, who am destined not to die, 
 For that were an escape from wretchedness. 
 And now there is no limit set for me 
 Of miseries, ere Zeus shall fall from power. 
 
 This allusion arouses lo's curiosity, and 
 thus the dialogue turns naturally to a 
 different theme : 
 
 Io. Could Zeus, then, be deprived of sover- 
 eignty ? 
 Prom. Thou wouldst rejoice, methink^, to 
 
 see that chance. 
 
 Io. Why not, since I from Zeus am suffer- 
 ing wrong ? 
 Prom. Then mayst thou learn from me that 
 
 this is true. 
 Jo. Who shall his royal sceptre wrest from 
 
 him? 
 Prom. He, from himself, by empty-minded 
 
 plans. 
 Io. How ? Tell us, if no harm thereby is 
 
 done. 
 Prom. He makes a marriage which he yet 
 
 shall rue. 
 Io. Divine or human ? Say, if thou mayst 
 
 speak. 
 Prom. Why ask with whom ? This may 
 
 not be revealed. 
 Io. Shall he, pray, lose his throne through 
 
 her he weds ? 
 Prom. A son she '11 bear, more mighty than 
 
 his sire. 
 Io. Is there no rescue from this lot for 
 
 him? 
 
 This much, then, Zeus also doubtless 
 hears ; but the most important word of 
 all, the name of the fatal bride, Prome- 
 theus is too crafty to utter. His next 
 remark so astonishes Io that she inter- 
 rupts it midway : 
 
 Prom. None, unless I myself, released from 
 
 bonds 
 Io. Who shall release thee against the will 
 
 of Zeus ? 
 
 Prom. This falls to one of thy posterity. 
 Io. What ! shall a son of mine free thee 
 
 from ills ? 
 
 Prom. In the third generation after ten ! 
 VOL. LXII. NO. 371. 22 
 
 Io. (after a pause). The prophecy still is 
 hard to understand. 
 
 Prom. And do not seek to learn of all thy 
 griefs. 
 
 Io. Proffer me not the boon, and then with- 
 hold ! 
 
 Prom. Of utterances twain I '11 grant thee 
 one. 
 
 Io. Tell me of what, and give to me the 
 choice. 
 
 Prom. I grant it. Choose if I shall plainly 
 
 tell 
 Who will release me, or thy latter woes. 
 
 There seems to be no serious meaning 
 in this choice offered by Prometheus. 
 Indeed, he readily consents to satisfy the 
 curiosity of the chorus in both matters. 
 The identity of Thetis is not, however, 
 indicated by Prometheus at any later 
 point in the play, though that is what is 
 here promised. Io is too excited by 
 her own coming miseries, of which she 
 is presently informed still more in de- 
 tail, to tarry and listen to other words, 
 and the entrance of Hermes soon after 
 put an end to all confidential talk. This 
 passage indicates that Prometheus' cau- 
 tion is deserting him. 
 
 Cho. Bestow on her the one, the other grace 
 On me, and do not disregard my words. 
 Relate to her the wandering yet in store, 
 To me thy rescuer. This is my desire. 
 
 Prometheus. Since ye are eager, I will not 
 
 resist, 
 But utter all, so much as ye have craved. 
 
 Thy mazy wanderings, Io, first I tell. 
 On thy heart's mindful tablets this engrave. 
 
 Passing the stream that parts the continents, 
 To the sun-trodden flaming Orient 
 
 The stream meant is of course the Kim- 
 merian Bosporus, where the thread of 
 the narrative was broken before. But 
 just here, lines, perhaps even pages, of 
 the libretto are missing. After the gap 
 we find Io in a purely fabulous region, 
 probably imagined by the poet as in the 
 southeast quarter of the earth. 
 
 Crossing the roaring sea, until thou reach 
 Kisthenfe'a plains Gorgonean, where abide 
 The Phorkides, three venerable maids, 
 Like unto swans, who have one eye for all, 
 A single tooth ; whom neither with his rays 
 The sun doth look on, nor the nightly moon. 
 
338 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 [September, 
 
 And near them are the winged sisters three, 
 The Gorgons, serpent - locked, abhorred of 
 
 men, 
 
 Whom never mortal sees and keeps his breath. 
 Such as I tell thee are the guardians there. 
 
 But hearken to another hateful sight. 
 Against the voiceless, keen-fanged hounds of 
 
 Zeus, 
 
 The griffins, guard thee, and the one-eyed host 
 Of Arimaspian horsemen, who abide 
 By the gold-flowing source of Pluto's stream ; 
 Approach them not. 
 
 The farthest land thou 'It reach, 
 And a black race, who near to Helios' springs 
 Inhabit, where the river Aithiops is. 
 
 This river Aithiops (that is Niger, Black) 
 is shown by the context to be merely 
 the upper course of the Nile, which the 
 ancients believed took its rise in the Far 
 East. Even Alexander and his follow- 
 ers fancied the Hydaspes was the upper 
 portion of the Nile ! The latter name 
 was especially applied to the stream 
 from the last cataract downward. 
 
 Creep by his banks, till to the cataract 
 Thou comest, where the Nile his current sweet 
 And holy from the Bybline mountains sends. 
 He '11 lead thee to the land triangular, 
 Neilotis, where the distant colony 
 Thou, lo, and thy children are to found. 
 If aught hereof is dark or hard to guess, 
 Ask yet again, and clearly learn the whole. 
 
 The chorus again reminds Prometheus 
 of his promise to reveal whom Zeus will 
 be tempted to wed, but their words serve 
 merely to afford a moment's rest to the 
 exhausted protagonist. 
 
 Cho. If thou hast aught, remaining or 
 
 passed by, 
 
 To tell her of her fateful wanderings, 
 Speak. But if all is said, then grant us too 
 The grace we seek and thou rememberest. 
 Prom. She has heard the goal of all her 
 
 journey; yet 
 
 That she may know she hearkens not in vain, 
 What she has suffered ere she hither fared 
 I '11 tell, to prove the truth of mine account. 
 The greater mass of words will I omit, 
 And reach at once her wanderings' very close. 
 
 Accordingly, Prometheus does not tell 
 how lo passed from her Argive home to 
 Epirus. The Suppliants, the only ex- 
 tant drama of ^Eschylus which has not 
 been already mentioned in the present 
 
 essay, deals with the fortunes of lo's 
 descendants, the Danaides. The tale of 
 their ancestress' wanderings is taken up 
 in a choral ode of the play, but the 
 account cannot be reconciled with the 
 present one, nor will it serve to fill the 
 gap at this point. 
 
 For when thou hadst approached Molossian 
 
 lands, 
 
 And steep Dodona, where is the abode 
 And oracle also of Thesprotian Zeus, 
 And, marvel past belief, the talking oaks, 
 (By which thou plainly, not in riddles, wert 
 Saluted as the illustrious spouse of Zeus,) 
 Then, gadfly-driven, thou didst rush along 
 The seaside road to Rhea's mighty gulf, 
 And thence returning now art tempest-tost. 
 
 Rhea's gulf is the Adriatic. By " re- 
 turning " can only be meant turning in- 
 land again from the sea, or perhaps 
 facing about eastward toward Prome- 
 theus' place of torture. 
 
 In time to come shall that sea-gulf be called, 
 Know well, Ionian ; a memorial 
 Unto all mortals of thy wanderings. 
 
 An ancient writer is rarely fortunate in 
 his ventures into etymology. The Adri- 
 atic was called the Ionian gulf, it is true, 
 but not from lo. 
 
 This of my wisdom is a proof to thee, 
 Which more than is apparent doth behold. 
 The rest to you and her at once I '11 tell, 
 Returning to the track of former words. 
 
 Accordingly, he now describes in some 
 detail the fortunes of lo after reaching 
 the delta, and of her posterity : 
 
 Canobos, outmost city of the land, 
 Lies at the mouth and margin of the Nile. 
 And there will Zeus restore thy mind again, 
 Touching thee only with a hand unfeared. 
 And thou shalt bear from Zeus' begetting 
 
 named 
 
 Dark Epaphos, who will harvest all the land 
 That Nile with widening current overflows. 
 
 ^Eschylus fancies the name Epaphos is 
 derived from a Greek verb (e7ra<io-Kto), 
 meaning to touch caressingly. 
 
 Fifth in descent from him, a female brood 
 Of fifty children shall unwilling come 
 To Argos, fleeing marriage with their kin, 
 Their cousins. But the suitors, mad at heart. 
 As hawks that follow close upon the doves, 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of JEschylus. 
 
 339 
 
 Shall come to hunt the marriage which shall 
 
 not 
 
 Be won. A god shall grudge them even life. 
 Pelasgia shall receive the maids ; the youths 
 In deadly strife with women shall be quelled, 
 Wakeful and bold. His bride of life shall rob 
 Each man, and dip in blood the two-edged 
 
 sword. 
 So to my foes may Aphrodite come ! 
 
 The last line is a fierce curse uttered 
 by the tortured Titan, as he thinks of 
 the similar danger to be brought upon 
 his own arch enemy through wedlock. 
 The incidents here alluded to occurred 
 to the daughters of Drinaus, and, as has 
 been already mentioned, are treated in 
 part by ^Eschylus in his early drama, 
 the Suppliants. 
 
 But yet, one bride shall love beguile to spare 
 Her spouse, and dull the edge of her intent ; 
 And this alternative will she prefer, 
 A coward to be called, not murderess. 
 In Argos she shall bear a kingly race. 
 To tell this clearly would much speech require ; 
 But from her seed shall spring a valiant one, 
 Famed with the bow ; and he from this dis- 
 tress 
 
 Shall free me. Such a prophecy to me 
 My Titan mother, ancient Themis, gave : 
 But how, or where, long time 't would need to 
 
 tell, 
 And it will nothing profit thee to learn. 
 
 It is an interesting question and 
 one of the utmost importance in the 
 tragic plot just how much Prome- 
 theus is supposed to know in regard to 
 his own future destiny. It is tolerably 
 clear from the present passage that he 
 has no unlimited prophetic insight of his 
 own, but has simply been informed by 
 Themis of the events to which he here 
 alludes. He probably does not even 
 know whether Zeus will actually escape 
 the danger menacing him through Thetis 
 or not. He apparently supposes that 
 his own release through the agency of 
 Heracles is to be a confession of error 
 and injustice on Zeus' part, and perhaps 
 expects still to be free to save the king 
 of gods from ruin, or to keep silence, 
 at his own pleasure. Such questions 
 are involved in some doubt, because we 
 have lost the other plays of this trilogy. 
 
 lo now relapses into the frantic con- 
 dition in which she arrived at the be- 
 ginning of the scene, and with these 
 wild words she rushes away upon her 
 long journey : 
 
 Woe is me ! Woe is me ! 
 The spasm again and the madness wild 
 Are burning me, and the unforged dart 
 
 Of the gadfly stings ! 
 My heart in terror is smiting my breast ; 
 Mine eyes are rolling as whirls a wheel. 
 Now forth from my course on the furious 
 
 breath 
 
 Of frenzy I rush, not ruling my tongue ; 
 And at random are striking the gloomy words 
 On the hateful billows of Ate ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 This closes the third and last episode. 
 The third Stasimon is a fervent prayer 
 of the sea-riymphs to be spared such a 
 lot as lo's : 
 
 THIRD STASIMON. 
 
 Chorus. Wise, ah, truly wise was he 
 Whoso first in thought did ponder icdl 
 And in language told the tale, 
 That an equal match is better far. 
 Not with them that in their wealth delight, 
 Nor with those exalted by their birth, 
 Should the humbler one desire to wed. 
 
 Never, nevermore, I pray, 
 
 May ye, Moirai, see me drawing near, 
 
 As his bride, the couch of Zeus. 
 
 May I no Uranian suitor wed ! 
 
 Jo's unbeloved virginity, 
 
 Shuddering, utterly devoured I see 
 
 By far- wandering toils, from Hera sent! 
 
 Not of wedlock in an equal station, 
 
 Free from terrors, is my dread ; 
 
 But lest Passion from the gods supernal 
 
 Gaze on me with eye that none may shun ! 
 
 This a war is, not to be contested, 
 
 Working what may not be wrought ! I know 
 
 not 
 
 What my fate may prove ! Nor can I see 
 Whither I the craft of Zeus might fly I 
 
 In the first portion of the Exodos the 
 sea-nymphs and Prometheus are alone. 
 The latter is so excited by the scene 
 with lo that he now breaks forth into 
 words even more rash and presumptu- 
 ous than heretofore. 
 
340 
 
 The Prometheus of 
 
 [September, 
 
 EXODOS. 
 
 Prom. Zeus surely, though so arrogant of 
 
 soul, 
 
 Shall yet be humbled ; such a marriage he 
 Devises, which will cast him forth from power 
 And throne into oblivion. Kronos' curse 
 Shall even then completely be fiilfilled, 
 Uttered as from his ancient throne he fell. 
 
 A refuge from these woes, except myself, 
 None of the gods could clearly show to him. 
 I know the means and way. So let him sit 
 Secure, and trust his thunder high aloft, 
 Brandishing in his hands the fiery bolt. 
 For these may naught avail, but he shall 
 
 fall, ' 
 
 A shameful fall, and unendurable. 
 So great a foe he now himself prepares 
 Against himself, most dread, invincible. 
 The following lines refer to the son 
 whom Thetis would bear, if wedded to 
 a divinity : 
 
 He shall a stranger flame than lightning find, 
 A roar which thunder mightily excels : 
 And this shall rout the pest that shakes the 
 
 earth, 
 The trident of the sea, Poseidon's spear. 
 
 The allusion to the trident is out of 
 place here, as Poseidon has not been re- 
 ferred to until now. These lines are, in 
 fact, a clear reminiscence of the passage 
 cited from Pindar's ode early in the 
 present essay, in which Themis warns 
 Zeus and Poseidon not to wed Thetis. 
 Though ^Eschylus transfers the custody 
 of this secret to Prometheus, and leaves 
 Poseidon quite out of the tale, he can- 
 not refrain from borrowing this striking 
 poetic passage. 
 
 Unto this evil fallen, Zeus shall learn 
 How wide are power and slavery apart. 
 
 Chorus. 'Tis but thy wish for Zeus thou 
 
 utterest ! 
 Prometheus. Both what shall be, and my 
 
 desire, I tell. 
 Cho. Ought we to look for one to master 
 
 Zeus? 
 Prom. And harder tasks than mine shall he 
 
 endure ! 
 
 Perhaps the sea-nymph gives a timid 
 glance skyward, as she replies : 
 
 How dost thou fear not, uttering such words ? 
 Prom. What should I dread, who am not 
 
 doomed to die ? 
 Cho. Yet he might give thee bitterer tasks 
 
 than these. 
 
 Prom. So let him do. All is by me fore- 
 seen. 
 
 Cho. They who to Adrasteia bow are wise ! 
 Prom. Revere ! Adore ! Fawn on the ruler 
 
 still! 
 
 But less than naught is my regard for Zeus. 
 Let him for this brief season act and reign 
 As he desires. He rules not long the gods. 
 
 Certainly at this point in the tragedy 
 no ancient auditor could escape the con- 
 viction that Prometheus is fatally in the 
 wrong. This last prophecy is not only 
 impious, but untrue, thus at once falsi- 
 fying his vain boast, 
 
 All is by me foreseen. 
 
 Even the sympathy which was excited 
 by his awful suffering is largely alien- 
 ated just now by this rude outburst 
 against his gentle and devoted friends. 
 The dramatist makes us see the truth 
 concerning his hero just before the final 
 catastrophe. Prometheus' next words 
 announce the beginning of the end : 
 
 But yonder I descry Zeus' courier, 
 Who is the youthful tyrant's messenger. 
 Surely to bring new tidings he is come. 
 
 Hermes now enters, doubtless descend- 
 ing from above. He haughtily addresses 
 Prometheus : 
 
 Thou wondrous wise, exceeding bitter one, 
 Who wrong' st the gods, bestowing gifts upon 
 Ephemeral men, the theft of fire I mean, 
 The father bids thee make that marriage 
 
 known, 
 Vaunted of thee, through which he falls from 
 
 power. 
 
 And this not enigmatically speak, 
 But all the truth. On me do not impose 
 A double journey ; and thou seest that Zeus 
 Is nowise lenient unto deeds like these. 
 
 The heroic rebel hurls back defiance at 
 his tormentors, in words that yet stir 
 the pulses of men who admire courage 
 and proud endurance : 
 
 Pompously mouthed, indeed, and full of pride 
 Thy tale, as fits the servants of the gods ! 
 Young are ye, young your power, and ye ex- 
 pect 
 
 To hold your towers untroubled. Have I not 
 Beheld two monarchs driven from them forth ? 
 The third, too, who now governs, I shall see : 
 Most shamefully and swiftly ! Do I seem 
 To dread and cower before the youthful gods ? 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of ^Eschylus. 
 
 341 
 
 Nay, far indeed from that am I ! 
 
 And thou, 
 Speed hack a^aiii the road which thou hast 
 
 eonie. 
 Naught shalt thou learn whereof thou ques- 
 
 tionest me. 
 Hermes. Even before, by wisdom like to 
 
 this, 
 
 Amid these tortures thou hast anchored thee ! 
 Prom. Thy servile duty with my wretched- 
 ness, 
 
 Be thou full well aware, I would not change. 
 Better, methinks, to serve this rock, than be 
 The trusty messenger of father Zeus ! 
 So to insult the insolent is fit. 
 Herm. Thou revelest in thy present lot, it 
 
 seems. 
 
 Prom. I revel ? So may I behold my foes 
 Reveling : and of them I count thee one ! 
 Herm. Dost thou accuse me, too, for thy 
 
 mishaps ? 
 Prom. I in plain words hate alf the 
 
 gods whoso 
 Return me wrongful harm for benefits. 
 
 Herm. I hear thee rave in frenzy nowise 
 
 mild. 
 
 Prom. Ay, if 'tis frenzy to abhor our foes. 
 Herm. If fortunate, thou wouldst be un- 
 bearable ! 
 
 This allusion draws a sigh from the 
 Titan, for which he is taunted by the 
 messenger god : 
 
 Prom. Alas ! 
 
 Herm. That is a word Zeus does not know ! 
 
 Prom. Time teaches all things, as he older 
 grows. 
 
 Herm. But thou not yet hast learned to be 
 discreet. 
 
 Prom. Else thee, a servant, I had not ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 Decidedly worsted in this verbal fencing, 
 Hermes returns to his proper mission, 
 with the words, 
 
 What Zeus commands thou art not like to say. 
 Prom. I should, indeed, return the thanks 
 I owe ! 
 
 Something in the bitter mockery of this 
 line makes it cut more deeply than 
 the ruder words before, for Hermes ex- 
 claims, 
 
 Thou dost revile me, as I were a child ! 
 
 Prom. Art thou not childish, and more fool- 
 ish yet, 
 
 If thou expectest aught from me to learn ? 
 There is no outrage, no device, whereby 
 
 Zeus shall impel me to that utterance, 
 Ere my dishonorable bonds are loosed. 
 
 And so, then, let the lurid flame be hurled ; 
 With white-winged snow and rumblings of 
 
 the earth 
 
 Let him confound and frighten everything. 
 For none of these shall bend my will to tell 
 By whom he is doomed to be cast out from 
 
 power. 
 
 The dread sounds and sights alluded to 
 by Prometheus have no doubt already 
 begun. 
 
 Herm. See now if this shall seem to avail 
 
 for thee ! 
 Prom. This was foreseen and thought of 
 
 long ago. 
 
 In Hermes' next words we hear some- 
 thing like a tone of pity for the coura- 
 geous foe : 
 
 Venture, O rash one, venture thou, for once, 
 In these thy sorrows to be truly wise. 
 
 Prom. Thou wear'st me, like a wave, with 
 
 pleadings vain. 
 
 Never suppose that, dreading the decree 
 Of Zeus, I would grow womanish at heart, 
 And would beseech that most detested one, 
 With feminine upliftings of the hands, 
 To free me from these bonds ! Far, far from 
 
 that! 
 Herm. Much, yet in vain, it seems, I speak. 
 
 By prayers 
 
 Thou 'rt nowise melted, nor made soft of heart. 
 Champing the bit, even as a colt new yoked, 
 Thou fightest violently against the reins. 
 In thy weak wisdom thou 'rt presumptuous ; 
 For arrogance, in one not truly wise, 
 Even less than nothing of itself avails. 
 Bethink thee, if thou yield not to my words, 
 How great a storm and treble wave of ills 
 Inevitable comes on thee. For first 
 This jagged cleft with thunder and the flame 
 Of lightning shall the father smite, and hide 
 Thy form. An arm of rock shall hold thee 
 
 fast. 
 
 A mighty length of time shalt thou complete, 
 And come again to light. 
 
 This time upon Mount Caucasus. It is 
 not clear what poetical end is attained 
 by this violent burial of the immortal 
 .culprit, and his resurrection, long after- 
 ward, in another land. It appears like 
 a desperate device to reconcile the rival 
 claims of two localities, since either form 
 of the myth was too widespread to be 
 ignored. Later antiquity connected Pro- 
 
342 
 
 The Prometheus of jiEschylus. 
 
 [September, 
 
 metheus' torture rather with the Cau- 
 casus, and in the poem of Apollonius 
 Rhodius the Argonauts hear his groans 
 as they sail the Euxine. 
 
 The winged hound 
 
 Of Zeus, the dusky eagle, ravenously 
 Shall rend the mighty fragments from thy 
 
 frame, 
 
 Stealing unsummoned to his all-day feast. 
 Upon thy blackened liver he shall feed. 
 
 Expect no limit to such agony 
 Until a god appears to bear thy pains, 
 Willing to rayless Hades to depart, 
 Amid the gloomy depths of Tartaros. 
 
 This seemingly impossible condition was 
 to be fulfilled through the centaur Chi- 
 ron, who, incurably wounded, through 
 accident, by Heracles' poisoned arrow, 
 gladly surrendered his immortality to 
 escape his pain. 
 
 Thereon deliberate ; because this vaunt 
 Is not invented, but most truly said. 
 The mouth of Zeus knows not to speak deceit, 
 But every word shall be fulfilled. Do thou 
 Consider well and ponder ; nor suppose 
 Willfulness ever better is than prudence. 
 
 Cho. To us it seems that Hermes fittingly 
 Has spoken ; for he bids thee to put off 
 Thy willfulness, and for wise prudence seek. 
 Obey, since for the sage to err is shame. 
 
 The voice of the chorus, here as else- 
 where, must be accepted as the general 
 voice of the community* so to speak, 
 and approximately as the voice of the 
 poet himself. The sea-nymphs love and 
 admire Prometheus : they are ready to 
 share all perils with him ; but his stub- 
 bornness is unwise, and his arrogance is 
 sinful : 
 
 Prom. These tidings he unto me proclaims, 
 Who knew them well ; and to suffer wrong, 
 A foe from foemen, is no disgrace. 
 Therefore upon me let there be cast 
 The curling flash of the forked flame ; 
 Let the ether with thunder be roused, and the 
 
 shock 
 
 Of savage winds. May the blast upstir 
 From her foundations the rooted earth. 
 May the wave of the sea, with its eager surge, 
 Cover the paths of the heavenly stars ; 
 And, uplifting me aloft, may Zeus 
 Into darksome Tartaros cast my form, 
 Into Necessity's merciless whirl. 
 At least he will not destroy me ! 
 
 Herm. Such are the counsels and words, 
 
 indeed, 
 To be heard from those who are smitten in 
 
 soul ! 
 
 For how far short does his destiny fall 
 Of frenzy ? How is it than madness less ? 
 (To the sea-nymphs.} But ye, at least, who 
 
 sympathize 
 
 In his calamities, get ye forth 
 Somewhither, straightway, out of the land, 
 For fear that ye may be struck to the heart 
 By the merciless roar of the thunder. 
 Cho. Speak and suggest aught else unto me, 
 And persuade me thereto ; for surely the word 
 Thou utterest is not endurable. 
 Why dost thou bid me the coward to play ? 
 With him I would suffer whatever must be ! 
 For the treacherous I have learned to abhor ; 
 
 Nor is there a vice 
 That I more than this have detested ! 
 
 Herm. Why, then, remember what I fore- 
 
 tell; 
 
 And do not, when hunted by Ate down, 
 Be wroth at fate, nor ever declare 
 That into calamities unforeseen 
 
 Ye of Zeus were plunged. 
 Not so ; but ye by yourselves alone. 
 For with fullest knowledge, not hastily, 
 
 Nor secretly, 
 In Ate's web, whence none escape, 
 
 By folly shall ye be entangled ! 
 Prom. But now, not merely in words, but 
 in deed, 
 
 Has the earth been tost. 
 The thunder's sea-born echo roars. 
 The flashes of lightning, full of flame, 
 
 Are shining forth. 
 
 The whirlwinds are driving the dust around, 
 And the breaths of all the winds that blow 
 
 On each other leap, 
 
 Revealing the strife of opposing blasts. 
 The ether is with the sea confused. 
 Such is the storm that, sent from the lord, 
 Inspiring dread, falls clearly on me. 
 
 O reverend Mother, O Ether that rolls 
 The light that is common to everything, 
 Behold how unjustly I suffer ! 
 
 In the storm which he himself so 
 vividly describes, Prometheus sinks from 
 sight, cliff and all, and thus the play 
 abruptly ends. Hermes has, doubtless, 
 already withdrawn, rising aloft after his 
 last words. The chorus share Prome- 
 theus' fate, and vanish into the earth 
 with him. 
 
 This play, when originally performed, 
 was followed immediately by the Pro- 
 
1888.] 
 
 The Prometheus of ^Eschylus. 
 
 343 
 
 metheus Loosed. Of that drama many 
 fragments are preserved by later wri- 
 ters ; the longest one through a metrical 
 Latin translation by the orator Cicero. 
 From these fragments, and from allu- 
 sions in the play we have just read, the 
 outline of the Prometheus Loosed can be 
 discerned. The scene is laid on Mount 
 Caucasus, thirteen mortal generations 
 later than the events described in the 
 Prometheus Bound. The chorus was 
 composed of Titans released from Tar- 
 taros ; their appearance in freedom on 
 earth being in itself a token of recon- 
 ciliation, and of Zeus' gentleness, now 
 that his throne is more secure. Heracles 
 comes, with Zeus' permission, to shoot 
 the eagle and release Prometheus, Jbut 
 the latter must first promise that he will 
 immediately afterward reveal his fatal 
 secret, and release Zeus from this vague 
 dread. A complete restoration of har- 
 mony between Prometheus and Zeus 
 must have followed. 
 
 In the most ancient manuscript of 
 ^Eschylus' seven plays, at Florence, is 
 preserved an alphabetical catalogue of 
 seventy-three tragedies which were ap- 
 parently known to an ancient transcriber. 
 This tantalizing list includes Prometheus 
 Bound, Prometheus Fire-Bearer, Pro- 
 metheus Loosed. The order of mention, 
 of course, proves nothing ; and, indeed, 
 we have positive ancient statements that 
 our play immediately preceded the Pro- 
 metheus Loosed. It is very generally 
 accepted that the three plays formed an 
 organic whole. The prevailing belief 
 has been that the Prometheus Fire- 
 Bearer came first, and described the 
 theft of fire. But two, at least, of the 
 latest and best commentators, Westphal 
 and Wecklein, have upheld, very per- 
 suasively, a different arrangement. They 
 contend that our Prometheus does not 
 
 1 For the sake of completeness it may be 
 mentioned that ^Eschylus wrote still a fourth 
 play on this subject. It was a satyr drama, or 
 serio-comic afterpiece, and was appended to a 
 group of tragedies upon a totally different sub- 
 ject, namely, the trilogy of which the extant 
 
 require, and hardly permits, a prelimi- 
 nary drama, being quite self-explana- 
 tory ; and they assert that the Fire- 
 Bearer closed the trilogy. Fire-Bearer 
 is the regular title of Prometheus in the 
 state religion of Attica, and such a clos- 
 ing play might well have ended with the 
 joyful reception of the Titan god by the 
 Athenians into their state cult, where he 
 had an honorable place in close associ- 
 ation with the firegod, Hephaistos. 
 
 Curiously enough, only a single line 
 of the Fire-Bearer has been preserved, 
 and that one does not settle the discus- 
 sion. It is simply, 
 
 "Mute where 'tis fit, and uttering timely 
 words, ' ' 
 
 and is cited by Aulus Gellius. 
 
 But a trivial remark of the ancient 
 Greek annotator upon our play is very 
 important to this question. Upon line 
 94 of the Prometheus Bound, 
 
 "Wasting away through unnumbered years/' 
 
 this scholiast adds : " For in the Prome- 
 theus Fire-Bearer he declares himself to 
 have been bound (SeSe'aSat) thrice a 
 myriad years." The use of the perfect 
 infinitive is a distinct proof that the Fire- 
 Bearer followed the other plays, and can 
 be avoided only by supposing that the 
 commentator's pen slipped, and that he 
 meant to say, " In the Prometheus 
 Loosed." 
 
 A careful reading of the last play of 
 ^Eschylus' great Oresteian trilogy, the 
 Eumenides, in which the baffled and en- 
 raged Furies are conciliated, and finally 
 take up their permanent abode in a sa- 
 cred cave at the foot of the Areopagus, 
 will give the reader a very good idea 
 of the manner in which JSschylus might, 
 and probably did, treat the Prometheus 
 myth in a similar final drama. 1 
 
 But of one point we may in any case 
 
 Persians formed a part. This is undoubtedly 
 the play alluded to by an ancient author under 
 the title Prometheus Fire-Kindler. Like most 
 of the satyr dramas, it had already disap- 
 peared when the list of plays mentioned above 
 was drawn up. 
 
344 
 
 The Prometheus of ^Eschylus. 
 
 [September, 
 
 be quite certain. Not merely the supe- 
 rior power, but the higher wisdom and 
 
 /justice, of Zeus from the beginning 
 became evident to every spectator, as the 
 poet believed that they were made clear 
 to the great sufferer himself. Our sym- 
 pathies are drawn inevitably to Prome- 
 theus. Indeed, later antiquity doubtless 
 had the same feeling, else why is this 
 act of the great drama, in which Pro- 
 metheus has the last word and seems 
 so nearly innocent, alone preserved for 
 us, although the picture of the Titan 
 on Caucasus, tortured by the vulture 
 and released by Heracles, was far more 
 familiar in ancient literature and art ? 
 Doubtless because Prometheus still defi- 
 ant and confident in the justice of his 
 cause pleased the later Greeks better than 
 the scene of penitence and humility. 
 
 There is no especial need to defend 
 the popular Hellenic conception of Zeus. 
 " Great Pan is dead ! " and all the Greek 
 world of mythic gods has crumbled into 
 nothingness with him. But ^Eschylus is 
 still a living voice among men, and it 
 should not be forgotten that he had as 
 earnest and unquestioning a faith in the 
 eternal goodness and wisdom as Whittier 
 himself. If he could know that many 
 of his noblest and wisest modern hear- 
 ers bid us approve and emulate his defi- 
 ant, unrepentant rebel, he would receive 
 
 I it as Milton would have received the 
 remark of a gallant English nobleman 
 who had just read the opening books of 
 Paradise Lost, and who, on being asked 
 his opinion of the Miltonic Satan, ex- 
 claimed, " A mighty fine fellow, and I 
 hope he '11 win ! " 
 
 The closing portion of the fine solilo- 
 quy of Prometheus on the Rock, written 
 forty-five years ago by the poet Lowell, 
 illustrates the prevailing sympathy and 
 admiration for the heroic Titan ; and it 
 also exemplifies the inevitable tendency 
 
 of modern man to turn .such a concep- 
 tion as Prometheus back again into an 
 allegory : only, the influence of Chris- 
 tian thought, directing the eyes of the 
 soul inward upon itself, and making the 
 individual the supreme object of inter- 
 est, is at work here as everywhere. 
 
 . . . Therefore, great heart, bear up ! Thou 
 
 art but type 
 
 Of what all lofty spirits endure, that fain 
 Would win men back to strength and peace 
 
 through love : 
 
 Each hath his lonely peak, and on each heart 
 Envy, or scorn, or hatred, tears lifelong 
 With vulture beak ; yet the high soul is left ; 
 And faith, which is but hope grown wise ; and 
 
 love 
 And patience, which at last shall overcome. 
 
 It is not to be questioned that such 
 treatment of Greek myths in the hands 
 of modern men of genius and wisdom 
 has a precious value of its own. Often 
 a deeper and nobler significance than 
 the classic poet ever dreamed may thus 
 be gained for us. 
 
 An elaborate discussion of such mod- 
 ern poems on the theme of the Pro- 
 methean myth lies, however, wholly be- 
 yond our present scope. It is the single 
 aim of this paper to make the drama 
 of ^Eschylus intelligible to a thought- 
 ful modern reader essentially as it was 
 received by the poet's contemporaries, 
 so far as our fragmentary knowledge 
 makes this still possible. To this end, 
 the one constant and unmistakable ele- 
 ment in ^Eschylus' creed, as stated and 
 illustrated in every drama, must be kept 
 always in mind : 
 
 The world is governed by infinite wis- 
 dom and unfailing justice. Men err 
 fatally who impute to the gods the petty 
 jealousies or weaknesses of humanity. 
 What seems to our eyes injustice is but 
 a partial and distorted view of the cy- 
 cle through which the divine purpose 
 sweeps. 
 
 William Cranston Laivton. 
 

 JAN 12 1943 
 FEB 9 i943 
 
 2l-50w-8,'32 
 

 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 

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