Hephaestus, the smith god.
Prometheus, the god of fire.
Oceanus, the god of the sea.
Chorus of the daughters of Oceanus (Nymphs of the sea, Oceanids)
A bleak rough mountain face in the Caucasus.
(Power and Violence enter leading their prisoner Prometheus.
Hephaestus accompanies them)
Power: _We’ve come to the ends of the earth, to Scythia, barren and deserted. Now, Hephaestus, carry out the orders of your father Zeus: shackle our criminal here to this towering cliff, in unbreakable chains made of adamant. He stole your flower, the shining fire of creativity, and gave it to Man. This was his crime: he must pay the penalty to the gods and learn to love Zeus’s tyranny instead of his absurd devotion to humans.
Hephaestus: _Power and Violence, you’re perfect representatives for carrying out the orders of Zeus: nothing is beyond you. I can’t bring myself to chain a relative by force to this icy cliff, but I have to do this since I know well. It’s no light offense to disobey commands from Zeus. To Prometheus wise son of Clymene who advises well, with both of us unwilling, I must chain you to this rocky cliff in bronze fetters which no one can release, where you will never hear the voice of people, nor see his shape, but the sun will beat down mercilessly, withering your fair skin. You will be happy when Night in her starry robes will hide the sun’s bright rays, but they will return at dawn to melt the frozen dew. Every day your cares will weigh you down, for the man to release you is not yet born. Look what you earned for loving Man too much; you were a god who defied gods and gave gifts to human beings, far beyond what they deserved. So you are posted to guard this joyless cliff, upright, sleepless: you can’t bend your knees. You will shed many a useless tear, and cry out your sorrow, but Zeus has a heart of stone, like all tyrants who just have come to power.
Power: _Why do you delay, and waste your pity? Shouldn’t you hate this enemy of the gods, since he gave to men the power that is rightly yours?
Hephaestus: _Blood is a strong tie, and so is friendship.
Power: _Yes. But how can you disobey the orders of your father? Aren’t you more afraid of him?
Hephaestus: _You always like to throw taunts in my face!
Power: _You can complain all you want, but you can’t release him. Don’t waste your valuable time.
Hephaestus: _I curse my skill. My craft is a heavy burden.
Power: _Don’t despise your craft! It’s clearly not to blame for this present problem.
Hephaestus: _I wish someone else were chosen to do this.
Power: _We all have to obey orders, except the god who rules: for no one is free but Zeus.
Hephaestus: _What we’re doing proves it; you’re right.
Power: _Hurry and put the chains in place. You don’t want our father to see you wasting time.
Hephaestus: _Here are his handcuffs and chains. Are you blind?
Power: _Put them on and use your strength to hammer them into the cliff; make sure he’s secure.
Hephaestus: _There. I’m at it. He cannot escape without help.
Power: _Drive them in deeper. Make sure everything is tight. He’s very clever at wriggling out of trouble.
Hephaestus: _That arm’s secure; he won’t escape those chains.
Power: _Secure this one too: he has to learn he’s nothing by comparison to Zeus, for all his cleverness.
Hephaestus: _He’s the only one who can criticize my work.
Power: _Now drive this stake of adamantine right through his chest with all your force.
Hephaestus: _Oh, Prometheus, I weep for your sufferings.
Power: _Wingeing again? Pitying Zeus’s enemies, are you? You’d better watch out for your own day of suffering.
Hephaestus: _You see a sight that calls for tears.
Power: _I see a criminal being punished. Now, attach those iron bands around his waist to the rock.
Hephaestus: _Enough! I’m doing it! I’ve had enough of you bossing me!
Power: _You’ll never shut me up until you get it done! I’ll even force you. Chain his legs there!
Hephaestus: _There. It’s done. It was easy.
Power: _Drive the spikes in with all your might. The one who sees all is a critical judge.
Hephaestus: _you order is as ugly as you are.
Power: _Oh isn’t he a dainty little thing! You can’t blame me for an iron will and violent moods. That’s what I am!
Hephaestus: _Let’s go then. The net that holds him is secure.
Power: _Now you can be as proud as you like, and keep on stealing the gods’ treasures to give to your precious men, these creatures of a day. See what help they can give you now! What a name, Prometheus, “thinking things out in advance.” Now’s your time to figure some way out of this.
(Exit Power, Hephaestus and Violence)
Prometheus: _I call on you bright light of day; swift-winged breezes; you flowing rivers; unquenchable laughter of the sea’s waves; Earth, mother of all, and lastly, circle of the sun, that sees all things. See a god’s suffering, Inflicted on me by other gods. I shall be tortured for centuries. This is the ugly sentence passed on me by the lord of the gods. I weep for what I suffer now, and will suffer in years to come.
No savior is yet in sight to end this misery. But why do I say this? I know all things that are to come; I see endless agony in store for me. I must try to bear it as easily as I can, since I know that no force can stop necessity. Both speaking and silence are beyond me. because I gave a gift to men, necessity yokes me to misery. I hid my stolen prize, fire, in a hollow fennel stalk: it taught men all the arts and gave them great resources. That’s why I suffer these torments, nailed with chains under an open sky. Oh, misery! What do I hear? What scent hovers on the wind? I still cannot see what it is. Human? Divine? Both? Who comes to the edge of the World to stare at my torment, and for what Reason? See a chained god who is condemned to misery, enemy of Zeus, and all the gods who frequent his court, just because I loved humankind too much.
What is this rustling that I hear? Birds? The light fluttering of wings pipes Through the air. I am terrified of Everything that approaches.
(Enter Chorus of the Oceanids)
Chorus: _Don’t be afraid! We are friends! We flew to this place as fast as we could, after reluctant permission from our father. Swift blowing breezes sped us on our way; the sound of the pounded iron Reached us deep in our caves, and drove away our proper modesty which fled in fright; we rushed away so quickly in our winged chariot, we left our sandals behind.
Prometheus: _Aiai! Aiai! Children of Tethys, the mother of many, And Oceanus, whose sleepless stream Circles the earth, Look on me, see what chains bind me tightly on the tip of this cliff hanging over a deep chasm. Where I am posted to keep dire watch.
Chorus: _I see you, Prometheus. I fear for you. I see through a mist of tears your wasted body, Fettered and hanging on this cliff. New gods run Olympus now. Zeus secures his unlawful power by new laws; he obliterates what once was mighty.
Prometheus: _I wish Zeus had thrust me below the earth, into the bottomless pit of Tartarus, beyond Hades that welcomes the dead. Although he fasten me brutally with unyielding chains, at least no god, or any other might come to gloat over me; then I would not have to endure the scorn of my enemies as I do now, hanging here, a plaything of winds.
Chorus: _What god is so cruel as to rejoice at what you suffer? Who does not sympathize with you except Zeus? But he nurses his anger in his inflexible mind, while he oppresses the offspring of Uranus; he will not end this until his heart is satisfied, or someone by some clever trick overthrows his adamantine rule.
Prometheus: _There will come a time, although I’m tortured, constrained by strong chains, when this leader of the Immortals will need me to reveal the new plot to deprive him of both rule and honors. But he will get nothing from me. No honeyed words or charms, nor grim threats will pry out this secret until he releases me from this savage bondage and makes reparation for all the abuse I’ve had to suffer.
Chorus: _You’re a bold one, and are not subdued by your bitter pain, but you speak a bit too freely. Fear pierces my heart and I am afraid what will happen to you. Into what harbor will you steer your ship to end your voyage of pain? The child of Cronus is stubborn and his heart knows no sympathy.
Prometheus: _I know how cruel Zeus is, and how he holds justice fast in his fist, but one day his thoughts will soften, when he is broken by my secret. When his blind rage calms down, he will rush into my willing arms to welcome his new-found friend.
Chorus: _Tell me everything: on what charge has Zeus convicted you? Why does he dishonor you this way, torturing you bitterly. Tell us, unless it hurts you to tell the story.
Prometheus: _It is painful to speak but also painful to keep silent; either way I suffer. When the gods first became angry, and opposed each other, some demanding Cronus be unseated in favor of Zeus, and others the opposite, claiming that Zeus should never rule, then I gave the best advice to the Titans, those children of Heaven and Earth, but they could not be convinced. They scorned my clever stratagem, and thought they could easily seize power, they arrogantly trusted in their own strength. My mother Clymene has foretold to me, and not just once, how the future would turn out, and the victory would come from strategy, not from force. I explained this in detail to the Titans but they rejected my whole plan. From all the choices left, I thought it was best that I and my mother go over to Zeus’s side: we were willing and he willingly welcomed us. So because of my advice, the dark depths of Tartarus hide old Cronus along with his allies. Zeus owes me for his being king of the gods, and you see how he pays me back with evil. This is a tyrant’s disease, not to trust his friends.
But you asked why he tortures me this way, so I’ll answer that clearly for you. As soon as he sat on his father’s throne, he gave to all the gods special privileges and divided up their rule, but poor humans didn’t even cross his mind. In fact, he wanted to destroy them and create some new race. No one objected, except me. I was the only one to have the courage to save mortals from being crushed and sent off to Hades. That’s why I’m twisted in pain, terrible to suffer, and pitiful to see. I had pity on human race, but I am not given pity for myself: I am pitilessly tortured and this spectacle of my misery indicts Zeus.
Chorus: _Anyone whose heart would not pity you for your suffering is either made of iron or stone. I wish I had never seen how you are abused, but now that I do, my heart shares your pain.
Prometheus: _Yes. My friends have pity on me.
Chorus: _Is that really all you did?
Prometheus: _I made it so they could not foretell their own deaths.
Chorus: _What drug did you give them to cure this disease?
Prometheus: _I gave them a indestructible faith.
Chorus: _That’s a great gift for mortals.
Prometheus: _I also gave them fire.
Chorus: _Now these creatures of a day have splendid fire?
Prometheus: _Yes. They will learn many skills from it.
Chorus: _So this was why Zeus condemned you…
Prometheus: _He tortures me, and the pain never lets go.
Chorus: _Do you see no end to this?
Prometheus: _No. I’m a victim of his whim.
Chorus: _What are your thoughts? Any hope? Don’t you see that you were wrong? I won’t go into the details; too painful for you. Let’s change the subject. You should find some means of escape.
Prometheus: _It’s easy for someone who walks on the safe side to give advice to those who fail. I knew
what would happen when I did what I did, but I did it willingly; I won’t deny it. By helping mortals I know I harmed myself. What I didn’t know was how I would be punished: left to waste away, chained to an overhanging cliff in a desolate, deserted place. I beg you not to cry over my pain, but come down and listen to what fate has in store for me: I’ll tell you the whole story from start to finish. Please consent to this, say yes, and show pity to someone who is struggling. For suffering wanders from one to another, touching each man in turn.
Chorus: _Your appeal has not fallen on deaf ears, Prometheus. My nimble foot will step onto this rough ground, leaving my swift chariot, and the pure air where birds fly. I am eager to hear all your story.
(Enter Oceanus on a Hippocamp, a winged horse with sea-serpent tail)
Oceanus: _I have reached the end of a long journey to see you Prometheus, I steered this swift-winged bird With no bit at all, simply by my will. First of all, I sympathize with your suffering; This is what I should do, Since I am your relative. Even if we weren’t related, there’s no one I respect more than you. I’m telling you the truth. I’m not a flatterer, who makes empty claims. Tell me how I can help you. You’ll never say you had a more loyal friend than Oceanus.
Prometheus: _So what have we here? Have you come to gawk at my misery? How could you leave your Ocean and the rock-roofed caves you carved out to visit this land of iron? Did you come to ogle me and add your pity to my misery? Enjoy the spectacle: see how this friend of Zeus who helped him establish his rule, is twisted in pain as my reward.
Oceanus: _I see, Prometheus, and I am prepared to give you advice, although I know you are wise. Know yourself, and learn to fit in with the new ways, for the ruler of the gods is also new. If you keep on hurling harsh, sharp words, Zeus may hear, even though he is far away, throned on high, and then your present misery will seem like child’s play. Oh, you poor creature, calm your anger, and try to find some way out of your predicament. Perhaps you’ve heard all this already, but what you suffer is just because of your boastful proud words. Even now, you have not learned humility from your pain; and you go on adding insult to injury. Learn from me, and don’t chafe at your bit; your leader is cruel but he holds absolute power: he answers to no one. So I’m going now to see, as far as I am able, whether I can find some release for you from this suffering. But you hold your tongue and check your pride. For all your wisdom, don’t you realize yet that there is a price to pay for speaking too freely?
Prometheus: _I envy your ability to keep yourself free from blame, although you dared to share my suffering. So forget me now, and don’t let it bother you. Whatever you do you will not persuade Zeus. That’s not his nature. Just watch out for yourself.
Oceanus: _You’re much better at advising others, rather than yourself. I have proof, not hearsay. Don’t try to stop me from what I’m going to do. I’m sure, yes, sure, Zeus will grant me what I ask, that you will be released from your troubles.
Prometheus: _I praise you for this, and I’ll never stop praising your eagerness to help. But you really shouldn’t bother. If you do insist on working on my behalf, it will be useless to me. Keep quiet, and protect yourself. Even if I suffer, I would not want everyone to do so. No, indeed, since I know what happened to Atlas, and how he stands carrying on his shoulders the heavens above, a weight that constantly wears him down. I also pitied wild Typhon, born of Mother Earth. That fierce monster of the hundred heads, who lived in the Cilician caves, finally was defeated by force. He stood against all the gods, hissing terror out from his huge jaws, a tremendous blazing fire shot out of his eyes: violence dedicated to destroying Zeus’s rule. Zeus hurled his unsleeping missile; lightning swept down with its breath of flame, and put a stop to his boastful taunts; for the first time he felt fear. Pierced to the heart, he burnt to ash, his life strength consumed by the lightning bolt. Now his weak sprawling body lies next to the straits of the sea weighed down by Aetna’s roots while Hephaestus sits on the mountain peak and pounds the glowing metal. From there one day rivers of fires will burst out and chew up with wild jaws the level fields of Sicily, known for its fair fruits. Such rage Typhon, although burnt by Zeus’s thunderbolt, will vomit up in volleys the hot spears of a fierce firestorm. But you don’t need me to teach you this. Save yourself in any way you can. I’ll stay here in my misery and drink it to the dregs until the mind of Zeus chooses to calm its fury.
Oceanus: _Don’t you know, Prometheus, that words can heal a mind diseased with passion?
Prometheus: _Gradually in time one can soften the heart, but no one can use force to limit a swelling anger.
Oceanus: _What is wrong with my eagerness to help, when matched by energy? Tell me.
Prometheus: _Just wasted effort and thoughtless foolishness.
Oceanus: _Trust my folly then, since it is best for a man truly wise to be thought a fool.
Prometheus: _But I shall be considered the one to blame.
Oceanus: _Your words show me it’s time for me to leave.
Prometheus: _Yes. Don’t let your moaning incite anger against you.
Oceanus: _From him who sits on his almighty throne? He’s new, you know.
Prometheus: _However new, avoid having his heart turn against you.
Oceanus: _Your own circumstance is my teacher.
Prometheus: _Fine, go, but remember what I’ve said.
Oceanus: _I’m as eager to go, as you are to send me off. The wings of my four-legged bird already beat the smooth path of sky; he’s eager to curl up his knees in his stall at home.
(Exit Oceanus on his Hippocamp)
Chorus: _I mourn your grim fate, Prometheus. Tears flood from my eyes to moisten my cheeks with their flowing stream. Zeus rules tyrannically making up his rules as he goes, scornfully lording his might over the older gods. The whole earth groans and weeps; Lamented is the splendor of your former honor, honor that was yours and your brothers. All those who live in holy Asia share your suffering; they add their tears to the lament as do those who live in Colchis, Amazons, fearless in battle, and the many Scythians who live in that far-flung place next to the Maeotic Lake. And the war-seasoned flower of Arabia, who live in a lofty city in mountains near the Caucasus— A fierce army that thunders its war cry in battles with sharpened spears. Only one other Titan have I seen, a god suffering in relentless constraint, Atlas, the strongest of all, who holds the heavens on his back and groans. The falling waves shout out their splashing lament; Black Hades answers by rumbling deep under the earth, rivers with clear-flowing streams moan as they pity your pain.
Prometheus: _Do not think I am prideful or scorn you because I am silent, but my heart is stung by the thought of how I am abused in this way. I, no one else, was the one to divide the powers and privileges among these nouveau gods. But I won’t go over this tale; you’ve already heard it. Listen instead to the tale of suffering men, how they knew nothing before me, but I educated them and taught them to think. I am not saying this as a reproach to men, but to show how much I helped them. First of all, they had eyes, but could not see, they had ears, but could not understand; they wandered like dreams throughout their long lives, and created chaos in the world. They did not know how to build houses either of stone or wood as protection against the sun. They lived deep within dark caves, and swarmed the earth like throngs of ants. They could not recognize the signs of winter, nor spring with its flowers, nor fruit-laden summer, so they did everything without any rational plan, until I taught them to read the risings of stars and their settings, which up to now they ignored. I gave them numbers, that knowledge most to be prized, and the art of writing words to help
memory, the mother of all the Muses. I first yoked beasts and made them work so they could relieve Man’s back of his heaviest burdens. I harnessed horses to the chariot and made them respond to reins, a delight for the wealthy. It was me who invented the ship with sails that wanders the sea, a chariot for sailors. All this, to my own misery, I dared to invent and pass on to human race, but for all my cleverness, I could devise no escape from my present suffering.
Chorus: _You have suffered what you should never have suffered. Now your mind wanders and, like a bad physician, you are sick and in despair; you cannot find any drug to heal your own disease.
Prometheus: _Hear the rest and you will be even more amazed at the arts and inventions I devised. The greatest was this: before, if a man fell sick, there was no remedy: nothing, no pill, ointment, nor drink, and without drugs they wasted away. I showed them how to mix healing medicines that could ward off all diseases. I also gave them skills so that they could predict the future: I showed them which dreams were true; how to interpret strange voices and sayings, and how to understand chance meetings during travel. I taught humankind to understand the flight of the taloned bird, what was beneficial, and what meant harm, their daily lives, loves and hates, and how they mate. Then I taught about the smoothness of entrails, the right color of gall so that it please the gods, and how to read the liver’s lovely mottled lobe. I showed humanity thighbones wrapped in fat, and how to burn the long backbone, and thus I taught human beings the obscure art of prophecy, sacrifice, and the language of fire, which had not yet been understood. But so much for that. Who could claim before me that he discovered the hidden treasures that lay buried under earth: bronze, iron, silver and gold? No one. That’s clear, unless some fool babbles nonsense. I’ll make a long story short: all the arts and crafts that humans possesses came from me.
Chorus: _You should not help men beyond what is right, and think nothing of your own suffering, because
I hope one day that you will be released from your chains and be the equal of Zeus.
Prometheus: _Not yet is fate destined to bring that about, but only after years of my collapsing under torture will I be released from my chains. Art is never as strong as Necessity.
Chorus: _Who determines Necessity?
Prometheus: _The three Moirai, and the Furies who never forget.
Chorus: _Is Zeus weaker than they are?
Prometheus: _He cannot escape what is destined to happen.
Chorus: _What is destined for him, except eternal rule?
Prometheus: _I’m not going to tell you this: don’t ask again.
Chorus: _It must be important if you conceal it.
Prometheus: _Talk about something else; it’s not the right time to speak of this. This has to be kept secret,
because through it I shall gain release from these humiliating chains and my suffering.
Chorus: _May Zeus, ruler of all things, never set his might against my will, nor may I delay in the holy sacrifice of cattle to honor the gods slaughtered beside the unquenchable stream of Ocean, my father, nor may I sin in word, But let this wish remain secure and never vanish. It is sweet to spend a long life fostering courageous hopes, and fattening one’s heart in happiness. But I shudder when I see you racked by a thousand pains. You weren’t afraid of Zeus, but you stubbornly loved humankind too much, Prometheus. The gift you gave yielded you nothing in return, my friend; Tell me, where is there help? How are these creatures of a day benefiting you now? Do you see how weak they are, useless, like a dream in which the blind race of humans sleeps forever. Humanity can never second-guess the master plan of God.
I have learned this from witnessing your terrible fate, Prometheus. What a different song is this, from the one That I sang around your bath and bed to celebrate your marriage to the bride, My sister Hesione, whom you persuaded to share your bed as your wife.
(Enter Io, crazed, wearing ox horns)
IO: _What land is this? What people? Who do I see hanging on this cliff for the hail and rain to beat on his body? What wrong did you do to merit this terrible punishment? Tell me, where have I wandered in my misery? To what land? The gadfly stings me, a ghost of Argos, born of Earth. Keep far from my sight that creature I fear, the herdsman with one hundred eyes, those eyes with which he searches for me, not even the earth hides that sight, but even from the underworld he hunts me, wretched as I am, driving me starving along the sandy shore of the sea. The reed pipe fashioned with wax drones on and on a tune that urges sleep. Io! Io! Where does my far wandering take me now? Why, O child of Cronus? What have I done to offend you that you torture me this way? Why do you drive this miserable creature mad with fear of the gadfly’s sting? Consume me with flame; bury me in the earth, or feed me to sea monsters; Oh lord, hear my prayer.My wanderings over land and sea have tortured me enough, but I do not know how to escape my own misery. Do you hear the voice of this maiden with horns?
Prometheus: _How could I not hear this young girl, daughter of Inachus, whom the gadfly drives mad? She kindled the fire of love in Zeus’s heart, and now Hera’s hate forces her to endless wandering.
Io: _How do you know my father’s name? Tell this wretched one, who you are. Who is it that in his misery,
correctly recognizes this miserable maiden? You name the Heaven-sent disease that wastes me, that goad with a sting. That drives me bounding over endless lands. Tortured by a shameful hunger, a victim of Hera’s angry scheme. Who, of all those suffering, suffers as much as I? Tell me clearly, what do I have yet to endure? Is there a cure or drug to treat this disease? Tell me if you know, speak out and tell this to a maiden wandering in misery.
Prometheus: _I shall tell you clearly what you want to know, and I won’t use riddling language, but plain speech that is right to use when speaking with friends. You see Prometheus, the fire-bringer.
Io: _You have given a great gift to mortals, poor Prometheus. Why are you punished this way?
Prometheus: _I have just gone over the long sad tale.
Io: _Will you please tell me one thing, at least?
Prometheus: _Ask whatever you wish. You can learn it all from me.
Io: _Who was it who nailed you to this cliff?
Prometheus: _Zeus ordered it, but Hephaestus carried it out.
Io: _What did you do wrong to earn this punishment?
Prometheus: _I’ve said enough on this subject.
Io: _Then tell me where am I headed, and where will I end? How long will this suffering continue?
Prometheus: _You would be better off not knowing.
Io: _Please do not hide from me what I have yet to suffer.
Prometheus: _It’s not that I don’t want to tell you this…
Io: _Why then do you hesitate to relate everything?
Prometheus: _I don’t begrudge you, but I don’t want to crush your heart.
Io: _Do not be concerned about me. I do not ask for that.
Prometheus: _If you want me to speak so much, fine. Listen.
Chorus: _Not yet. I also want to share in this. First we want to ask why she suffers this way. We want her to tell us how this disaster happened. Then you can reveal what she has yet to suffer.
Prometheus: _Io, you should grant them this favor, most of all because they are sisters of your father. It is good to tell a tale full of grief about your sufferings when you are likely to earn a gift of tears from your listeners.
Io: _I can’t refuse. I’ll tell you clearly what you want to know. Yet I’ll be ashamed when I speak of the storm of misery that the gods sent, the mutilation of my former beauty, and from where destruction swooped down on me. Visions came to me at night and spoke flattering words: Maiden, fortunate above all, why do you guard your virginity so long when you could enjoy the greatest union possible? Zeus has been struck by passion’s dart and burns for you: he wishes sexual union. Child, do not despise the bed of Zeus, but go now to the rich meadows of Lerna where your father’s cattle are sheltered, so that you can satisfy Zeus’s love-struck glance. These were the temptations that visited me night after night, until I dared to tell my father about the dreams that so obsessed me in my sleep. He sent to Dodona and Delphi to learn what he could do or say to satisfy the will of the gods. Their answers were dark riddles, unintelligible oracles and could not be understood. But finally there came a clear message to my father, that he must drive me out of the house, and let me wander at large like a sacred animal to the ends of the earth; and if he disobeyed, a lightning bolt would come from Zeus utterly to destroy his race. So he obeyed the commands of Apollo and drove me away, thrusting me out of the house against his will and mine; Zeus’s whip forced him to carry this out. Both my shape and mind were twisted; you see my horns; driven by a stinging gadfly I wildly leapt to the sweet water of Cerchnea and Lerna’s spring. But that herdsman born of Earth, Argos followed, continually raging, tracking me with his many eyes. Death pounced on him suddenly, but I am still driven from land to land by this curse sent to me from heaven. That’s my story. Please tell me what trials await me. Don’t out of pity sweeten the tale by telling me lies. I say the worst plague of all afflictions is a story that turns out to be untrue.
Chorus:_Please! Stop! Stop! Never, never, have I heard such a strange story, suffering hard to imagine, and hard to bear! Outrageous, a double goad to strike my heart. Io, Io! What fate, what luck! I shudder to see Io’s sufferings.
Prometheus: _It’s too soon for you to cry out or be afraid. Wait until you hear the end of the story.
Chorus: _Continue. Tell me. It benefits the sick to know clearly in advance the pain still to come.
Prometheus: _The story was easy up to now, since you asked to hear her tell all the sufferings that happened to her up to this point. Now hear what lies ahead and what she still must suffer because of Hera. And you, child of Inachus, listen to my tale, so you know the end of your wanderings. First, from here, go east, towards the rising sun and over plains that have never known the plow, until you reach the Scythian nomads, skilled at the far-shooting bow, who live in houses built on top of wagons that roll right along. Don’t approach them, but stay close to the shore against which the sea waves crash with a roar. Go past their land where the Chalybes do iron work, but be careful, because they are savage, and don’t take kindly to strangers. Then you will reach the river Hybristes, true to its name. Don’t cross it: it’s difficult, but walk along its bank until you reach the Caucasus, tallest of all mountains, and from whose crest the river cascades furiously down. You cross the peak that almost touches the stars and go south to where you reach the army of Amazons, who hate all men; they will settle Themiscyra, on the Thermodon, where Salmydessus’ fierce jaw lies next to the sea, hostile to sailors, wicked step-mother of ships. The Amazons will gladly speed you on your way. Then, at the narrow entrance to the swamp, you will reach the Cimmerian Isthmus. Take heart, and pass through the Maeotic channel; men will tell tales of your passing and name the Bosporus after you. You will be famous! Next you will leave Europe and come to Asia. Doesn’t it seem to you that the lord of the gods is excessively cruel in every way? For this god not only wanted to lure her into sexual union, but then damned her to wandering. Poor girl, you have found yourself the suitor from underworld, and the story you have heard was only the beginning of a long tale to come.
Prometheus: _What? Moaning again? What are you going to do when you hear all that lies in store for you? Chorus: _You don’t mean to say that there’s more suffering to come?
Prometheus: _An unimaginable stormy sea of torture!
Io: _Why should I continue to live? Why don’t I throw myself from this jagged cliff, so that, crashing to the ground, I make an end to all my troubles? It’s better to die once, than live an entire life suffering torment.
Prometheus: _I can see it would be impossible for you to bear the agonies that I must since I cannot die. I see no limit to my suffering until Zeus himself is thrown from his tyrannous rule.
Io: _Will Zeus one day lose his power?
Prometheus: _I think you would be pleased to see it happen.
Io: _Of course, since I suffer because of Zeus.
Prometheus: _Then take heart from this, it will happen.
Io: _Who will remove his scepter from him?
Prometheus: _He will do it himself, because he is foolish.
Io: _How? Please tell me. That is, if it doesn’t hurt you.
Prometheus: _He will choose a sexual partner who will ruin him.
Io: _A god? Or a mortal? If you can tell me, I want to know.
Prometheus: _Why do you ask? I can’t tell you that.
Io: _Will a sexual partner seize his power from him?
Prometheus: _Yes. Because her child will be greater than the father.
Io: _Can he do anything to avoid this?
Prometheus: _No. Unless I am released from these chains.
Io: _Who could do that except Zeus?
Prometheus: _It is going to be one of your descendants.
Io: _What is this? A child of mine release you?
Prometheus: _The third child born after ten generations.
Io: _Now I cannot understand what you are saying.
Prometheus: _So don’t ask about the full extent of your labors.
Io: _Don’t promise to give me this, then take it back.
Prometheus: _I’ll give you a choice of two tales.
Io: _What do you mean? Tell me so I can choose.
Prometheus: _I can either relate what is yet to come for you, or tell you the story about who will rescue me. Chorus: _Tell her one of those tales, and me the other. Be generous, and don’t begrudge us this. To her, tell of the wanderings that are left, and tell me who will release you. I want to hear this.
Prometheus: _Well, since you are so eager, I won’t refuse to give you an account of all that you still want to know. First for you Io, I’ll explain the painful wandering left—engrave it in your memory. When you have crossed the stream that separates the two continents, go to the flaming East, where the sun walks, then cross the roaring sea to reach the Gorgonian plains of Cisthene, where the ancient daughters of Phorcys dwell, three in the shape of swans, with one eye and one shared tooth; the sun’s rays never shine on them nor does the moon at night. Near them are the snake-haired Gorgons, hated by men, whom no man
gazes upon and still draws the breath of life. This is what I am warning you to guard against. Now there’s something even more frightening to see. Beware the sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that don’t bark, the Griffins, and the one-eyed army of Arimasps who ride horses and live next to the stream of Hades, that flows with gold. Do not go close to them. Next you will come to a faraway land filled with dark-skinned people, who live near the streams of the sun, and the river called Aethiop. Go up its banks until you reach the waterfall in the Bybline mountains where the holy Nile jets out its sweet-tasting streams. This will lead you to the triangular land called Nilotis, where it is destined to found your distant colony for you and your children. If there is some of this you do not understand or it is unclear, tell me and I shall explain: for I have more leisure time than I would like.
Chorus: _If you left something out of her terrible wandering, let me know. But if you have related the entire account, then tell us what we requested. I’m sure you remember.
Prometheus: _She has heard the end of all her journeying. But so she knows that all I’ve said is genuine, I shall go through all the troubles she had to face to get to this place. I offer that as proof! I shall leave out most of this dreary account, but just tell what happened recently. You will reach the Molossian plain, and the steep ridge near Dodona, there where Thesprotian Zeus holds his prophetic seat, the incredible wonder of the speaking oaks, where you were praised as the famous spouse of Zeus. Does this please you to remember? Then, driven by the gadfly’s sting, you came to the shore of the great gulf of Rhea, but from there you were driven backwards. Be assured for the rest of time, a recess of the ocean will be called by all men to come the Ionian Sea just to commemorate your passage. This is proof of my ability to show you how I can see the unseen, how I know the past and can tell you about the future. I shall now tell both you and Io all the rest, taking up my tale where I left off. There is a city, Canopus, which lies at the edge of the Nile’s mouth with its piles of silt, and in that place Zeus will touch you with his gentle hand, and restore you to your senses. You will give birth to dark Epaphus, “son of touch,” to commemorate his origin. He will harvest all the fruit produced by the land watered by the stream of the wide Nile. After five generations, fifty maidens
will come back to Argos to flee marriage to their cousins, who are mad with lust for an unlawful marriage, and follow hot on the girls’ trail like hawks pursuing doves. God will intervene and deprive them of their catch. The Pelasgian land will shelter these women after they savagely murder these men at night. Each bride will deprive her husband of life, dyeing a two-edged sword in his blood. I pray that such a lust visit only my enemies. One of the maidens will spare her husband out of love, and this spell will blunt her purpose. She
will choose the lesser of two evils and would rather be called a coward than a murderess. In Argos she will give birth to many kings. All the details would take too long to relate, but from her offspring will be born a brave man, famous for his bow, and it will be he who releases me finally from my suffering. This is all the
prophecy as told me by my Titan mother, Clymene. How this will be done is too long a story, and besides it doesn’t help you to know that.
Io: _The pain, the pain, it stings me, and drives me mad, I’m burning up! The gadfly’s barbed sting never made in a forge, bites me deeply. My heart pounds in my chest with fear; my eyeballs spin in my frenzy. Madness whirls me out of my course. I can’t control my speech; my muddy words tossed randomly about, beat against the waves of vengeful ruin.
Chorus: _He was wise, wise was he, who weighed this problem in his mind before he spoke this wise saying: To marry one’s equal is best by far. A man who labors should not marry above his station, either those puffed up with wealth, or those who boast about their birth. Never, never, Lady Luck, will you see me taking Zeus as my bedmate. Nor would I marry a bridegroom that descends from heaven. I am terrified by this maiden without her mate, Io, reaping Hera’s hate that forces her into cruel and endless wandering. I do not fear mating with equals, but I fear the burning desire of a god casting his glance on me, one I could not escape. It’s a war that’s no war at all; an unfavorable favor; I don’t know what would happen to me, or how to escape Zeus’s crafty designs.
Prometheus: _Yes, the day will come, no matter how stubborn he is, for Zeus to fall, since he is planning to mate in such a way that he will be thrust into darkness from his tyrant’s throne, and so he will bring to pass the curse of his father Cronus, uttered at the time when he fell from his throne. How to save himself, only I, from all the gods, have the means to reveal clearly. I know exactly what to do and how. He can sit boldly all he wants, trusting in the reverberating might of his lightning bolt. He can shake it all he likes, but it won’t help him. These fire-breathing bolts cannot protect him against this dishonorable and unbearable fall. Such an opponent is he creating against himself, and a marvel impossible to defeat. He will discover a flame stronger
than lightning, a roar that will deafen thunder, and shatter the trident, Poseidon’s spear, scourge of the sea, and land-shaker. In his catastrophic fall, Zeus will learn how great a difference there is between ruling and being a slave.
Chorus: _You’re just telling us what you would like to have happen.
Prometheus: _Both. I’m telling the future and what I want.
Chorus: _May we expect someone to come and defeat Zeus?
Prometheus: _What he suffers will surpass even what I have to bear.
Chorus: _Aren’t you afraid to make these predictions?
Prometheus: _I’m immortal, what can he do to me?
Chorus: _He can make your suffering much worse.
Prometheus: _Let him try. I’m prepared for anything.
Chorus: _Wise are those who respect necessity.
Prometheus: _You go on respecting, adoring, and flattering those in power, but I couldn’t care less about Zeus. Let him do what he likes, and rule for his brief day; his authority over the gods won’t last long. But I see his servant coming here, that messenger boy of the new tyrant. He seems to have some news.
Hermes: _I’m speaking to you, too clever for your own good, nastier than nasty, who stole fire from the gods, in misplaced loyalty to creatures of a day. My father orders you to tell him about the marriage you boast will destroy his power. And you can forget those riddles: lay it out plain and simple, in detail. Don’t make me come back Prometheus; you see, Zeus is not amused and he has a short temper.
Prometheus: _Well done, great choice of words, and just as crude as suits a servant of the gods. You’re only a weak child, and you think like one too, when you imagine nothing can happen to you, and you’re safe in your lofty tower. I’ve already seen two tyrants fall from that height, and I’m about to see a third collapse in shame. Do you think I fear you young upstart gods? Not in the least. Soon your riddle will be solved. Everything I have said, you will soon see come to pass.
Hermes: _It was your own stubbornness that landed you in trouble before, and you’re at it again.
Prometheus: _I’m better off than you are. At least I’m not a servant.
Hermes: _Of course, better to hang on this rock than to be Zeus’s trusted messenger.
Prometheus: _Just like the criminal you are, hurling insults.
Hermes: _You seem quite content to suffer as you do.
Prometheus: _ “Content”? I wish my enemies could be just as “content” as I am. And you too.
Hermes: _So now you blame me for your troubles?
Prometheus: _I blame all the gods who benefited from what I did for them, and wrong me in return.
Hermes: _What you say shows that you have gone mad.
Prometheus: _Is it madness to hate one’s enemies?
Hermes: _You would be unbearable, if things went well for you.
Prometheus: _...Bullshit.
Hermes: _Bullshit? That’s not in Zeus’s vocabulary.
Prometheus: _Aging time teaches everything.
Hermes: _But you have not learned to nourish a sensible mind.
Prometheus: _True. Otherwise I wouldn’t waste my time talking to a servant.
Hermes: _I gather you won’t give our father the answer he wants.
Prometheus: _Oh, I really should. I owe him so much.
Hermes: _You insult me as if I were a child.
Prometheus: _Am I wrong? Aren’t you even more foolish than a child to expect an answer from me? Zeus can do his worst. No torture will force me to speak, only release from my bonds. Let him hurl all the blazing thunderbolts he likes, let the white wings of snow embrace me; may he shake all the world with his earthquakes and throw all the world into a chaotic tailspin. He won’t get a thing from me, nor bend my will; I won’t identify who will throw him out of power.
Hermes: _Well, you’ll soon see how this helps you.
Prometheus: _Are you trying to tell me, the prophet, about my future?
Hermes: _You foolish Titan!. Won’t you learn from your pain and learn how to be sensible at last?
Prometheus: _You have as much chance of convincing me as turning a wave of the sea. Don’t think that
fear of what Zeus has in mind will turn me into a weak, and force me onto my knees, to lift my hands in prayer to him, and beg him to release me from my bonds. That’s not me.
Hermes: _I see I’m getting nowhere. My pleas neither convince you, nor change your mind. You take the
bit in your mouth like a young colt, chew at it, and fight against your reins. Your tactic is less than effectual and if you don’t make sense, your being stubborn has no power at all. If my words were not able to convince you, Zeus has other plans; a storm will whirl you to destruction beyond belief; its wave of suffering will overwhelm you. First, Zeus will shatter this cliff with his thunder and lightning, bury your body inside,
with the rock embracing you. After a long span of time, you will be returned to the light of day, so that the winged hound of Zeus, a huge golden-red eagle, will fiercely shred your body into bloody rags. He will arrive every day, an uninvited guest at a feast, and turn your liver into pieces of black gore. There will be no end to your agony until a god take on your suffering in your place, and of his own free will goes to the sunless gloomy land of death, in the depths of Hades. So consider this. It’s not idle boasting, but total truth, all said for your benefit. The mouth of Zeus is incapable of telling lies, so it all will soon come to pass. Think about it; ponder on it well; stubbornness is never better than accepting a wise suggestion.
Chorus: _I think that Hermes is giving you good advice; he tells you not to be stubborn, and to follow the path of wise good judgment. Listen to him. No wise man compounds his error. He makes amends.
Prometheus: _I already knew what this messenger said. It’s no disgrace for an enemy to be harmed by an enemy. Let the forked lightning wrap around me; the sky redden with lightning and thunder away; whirl its tempests; shake the earth from its roots; waves of the sea should reach the stars, force them out of their nightly paths; whirl my body to heaven! Blast it down to Tartarus in fierce. Eddies of necessity. No matter what he does, he cannot kill me
Hermes: _I’m convinced I’m hearing the words of one whose mind is deranged. This is the prayer of a madman. Will his madness never let up? You girls, so sympathetic to him, get out of here quickly, so the thunder and lightning do not hurl you out of your senses.
Chorus: _You had better change your story, if you want to convince me.What you say is outrageous. So you want me to be a coward? I’ll suffer what he suffers; I hate traitors, There’s no disease that I hate more. Hermes: _Well, just remember what I said, and don’t blame me when your own blindness lands you in trouble. Don’t say that Zeus tossed you into something you didn’t deserve. Blame yourselves. You’ve been warned, and I didn’t speak in riddles. Its your folly’s fault that this Inescapable net of disaster will drag you down along with him. Lightning flashes, sound of thunder, earthquake rumbles and signs of total destruction. Prometheus: _Now the time for words ends; and the action begins. The earth shakes; thunder echoes from the depths and roars past me; bright lightning flashes twist around me; the winds swirl up dust in dizzying eddies; the blasts battle with each other, whipping up counter attacks; sea spray reaches the sky. The storm approaches, sent by Zeus to cause me fear. I don't care about it. I'm Prometheus, son of Iapetus.
Clarissa Lake - Prometheus Bound in: Aeschylus (Adapted)
