The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning Volume I Part 21

It ought not to be uttered, verily.

_Io._ Then It is his wife shall tear him from his throne?

_Prometheus._ It is his wife shall bear a son to him, More mighty than the father.

_Io._ From this doom Hath he no refuge?

_Prometheus._ None: or ere that I, Loosed from these fetters--

_Io._ Yea--but who shall loose While Zeus is adverse?

_Prometheus._ One who is born of thee: It is ordained so.

_Io._ What is this thou sayest?

A son of mine shall liberate thee from woe?

_Prometheus._ After ten generations, count three more, And find him in the third.

_Io._ The oracle Remains obscure.

_Prometheus._ And search it not, to learn Thine own griefs from it.

_Io._ Point me not to a good, To leave me straight bereaved.

_Prometheus._ I am prepared To grant thee one of two things.

_Io._ But which two?

Set them before me; grant me power to choose.

_Prometheus._ I grant it, choose now: shall I name aloud What griefs remain to wound thee, or what hand Shall save me out of mine?

_Chorus._ Vouchsafe, O G.o.d, The one grace of the twain to her who prays; The next to me; and turn back neither prayer Dishonour'd by denial. To herself Recount the future wandering of her feet; Then point me to the looser of thy chain, Because I yearn to know him.

_Prometheus._ Since ye will, Of absolute will, this knowledge, I will set No contrary against it, nor keep back A word of all ye ask for. Io, first To thee I must relate thy wandering course Far winding. As I tell it, write it down In thy soul's book of memories. When thou hast past The refluent bound that parts two continents, Track on the footsteps of the orient sun In his own fire, across the roar of seas,-- Fly till thou hast reached the Gorgonaean flats Beside Cisthene. There, the Phorcides, Three ancient maidens, live, with shape of swan, One tooth between them, and one common eye: On whom the sun doth never look at all With all his rays, nor evermore the moon When she looks through the night. Anear to whom Are the Gorgon sisters three, enclothed with wings, With twisted snakes for ringlets, man-abhorred: There is no mortal gazes in their face And gazing can breathe on. I speak of such To guard thee from their horror. Ay, and list Another tale of a dreadful sight; beware The Griffins, those unbarking dogs of Zeus, Those sharp-mouthed dogs!--and the Arimaspian host Of one-eyed hors.e.m.e.n, habiting beside The river of Pluto that runs bright with gold: Approach them not, beseech thee! Presently Thou'lt come to a distant land, a dusky tribe Of dwellers at the fountain of the Sun, Whence flows the river aethiops; wind along Its banks and turn off at the cataracts, Just as the Nile pours from the Bybline hills His holy and sweet wave; his course shall guide Thine own to that triangular Nile-ground Where, Io, is ordained for thee and thine A lengthened exile. Have I said in this Aught darkly or incompletely?--now repeat The question, make the knowledge fuller! Lo, I have more leisure than I covet, here.

_Chorus._ If thou canst tell us aught that's left untold, Or loosely told, of her most dreary flight, Declare it straight: but if thou hast uttered all, Grant us that latter grace for which we prayed, Remembering how we prayed it.

_Prometheus._ She has heard The uttermost of her wandering. There it ends.

But that she may be certain not to have heard All vainly, I will speak what she endured Ere coming hither, and invoke the past To prove my prescience true. And so--to leave A mult.i.tude of words and pa.s.s at once To the subject of thy course--when thou hadst gone To those Molossian plains which sweep around Dodona shouldering Heaven, whereby the fane Of Zeus Thesprotian keepeth oracle, And, wonder past belief, where oaks do wave Articulate adjurations--(ay, the same Saluted thee in no perplexed phrase But clear with glory, n.o.ble wife of Zeus That shouldst be,--there some sweetness took thy sense!) Thou didst rush further onward, stung along The ocean-sh.o.r.e, toward Rhea's mighty bay And, tost back from it, wast tost to it again In stormy evolution:--and, know well, In coming time that hollow of the sea Shall bear the name Ionian and present A monument of Io's pa.s.sage through Unto all mortals. Be these words the signs Of my soul's power to look beyond the veil Of visible things. The rest, to you and her I will declare in common audience, nymphs, Returning thither where my speech brake off.

There is a town Can.o.bus, built upon The earth's fair margin at the mouth of Nile And on the mound washed up by it; Io, there Shall Zeus give back to thee thy perfect mind, And only by the pressure and the touch Of a hand not terrible; and thou to Zeus Shalt bear a dusky son who shall be called Thence, Epaphus, _Touched_. That son shall pluck the fruit Of all that land wide-watered by the flow Of Nile; but after him, when counting out As far as the fifth full generation, then Full fifty maidens, a fair woman-race, Shall back to Argos turn reluctantly, To fly the proffered nuptials of their kin, Their father's brothers. These being pa.s.sion struck, Like falcons bearing hard on flying doves, Shall follow, hunting at a quarry of love They should not hunt; till envious Heaven maintain A curse betwixt that beauty and their desire, And Greece receive them, to be overcome In murtherous woman-war, by fierce red hands Kept savage by the night. For every wife Shall slay a husband, dyeing deep in blood The sword of a double edge--(I wish indeed As fair a marriage-joy to all my foes!) One bride alone shall fail to smite to death The head upon her pillow, touched with love, Made impotent of purpose and impelled To choose the lesser evil,--shame on her cheeks, Than blood-guilt on her hands: which bride shall bear A royal race in Argos. Tedious speech Were needed to relate particulars Of these things; 'tis enough that from her seed Shall spring the strong He, famous with the bow, Whose arm shall break my fetters off. Behold, My mother Themis, that old t.i.taness, Delivered to me such an oracle,-- But how and when, I should be long to speak, And thou, in hearing, wouldst not gain at all.

_Io._ Eleleu, eleleu!

How the spasm and the pain And the fire on the brain Strike, burning me through!

How the sting of the curse, all aflame as it flew, p.r.i.c.ks me onward again!

How my heart in its terror is spurning my breast, And my eyes, like the wheels of a chariot, roll round!

I am whirled from my course, to the east, to the west, In the whirlwind of phrensy all madly inwound-- And my mouth is unbridled for anguish and hate, And my words beat in vain, in wild storms of unrest, On the sea of my desolate fate.

[_IO rushes out._

_Chorus.--Strophe._ Oh, wise was he, oh, wise was he Who first within his spirit knew And with his tongue declared it true That love comes best that comes unto The equal of degree!

And that the poor and that the low Should seek no love from those above, Whose souls are fluttered with the flow Of airs about their golden height, Or proud because they see arow Ancestral crowns of light.

_Antistrophe._ Oh, never, never may ye, Fates, Behold me with your awful eyes Lift mine too fondly up the skies Where Zeus upon the purple waits!

Nor let me step too near--too near To any suitor, bright from heaven: Because I see, because I fear This loveless maiden vexed and laden By this fell curse of Here, driven On wanderings dread and drear.

_Epode._ Nay, grant an equal troth instead Of nuptial love, to bind me by!

It will not hurt, I shall not dread To meet it in reply.

But let not love from those above Revert and fix me, as I said, With that inevitable Eye!

I have no sword to fight that fight, I have no strength to tread that path, I know not if my nature hath The power to bear, I cannot see Whither from Zeus's infinite I have the power to flee.

_Prometheus._ Yet Zeus, albeit most absolute of will, Shall turn to meekness,--such a marriage-rite He holds in preparation, which anon Shall thrust him headlong from his gerent seat Adown the abysmal void, and so the curse His father Chronos muttered in his fall, As he fell from his ancient throne and cursed, Shall be accomplished wholly. No escape From all that ruin shall the filial Zeus Find granted to him from any of his G.o.ds, Unless I teach him. I the refuge know, And I, the means. Now, therefore, let him sit And brave the imminent doom, and fix his faith On his supernal noises, hurtling on With restless hand the bolt that breathes out fire; For these things shall not help him, none of them, Nor hinder his perdition when he falls To shame, and lower than patience: such a foe He doth himself prepare against himself, A wonder of unconquerable hate, An organizer of sublimer fire Than glares in lightnings, and of grander sound Than aught the thunder rolls, out-thundering it, With power to shatter in Poseidon's fist The trident-spear which, while it plagues the sea, Doth shake the sh.o.r.es around it. Ay, and Zeus, Precipitated thus, shall learn at length The difference betwixt rule and servitude.

_Chorus._ Thou makest threats for Zeus of thy desires.

_Prometheus._ I tell you, all these things shall be fulfilled.

Even so as I desire them.

_Chorus._ Must we then Look out for one shall come to master Zeus?

_Prometheus._ These chains weigh lighter than his sorrows shall.

_Chorus._ How art thou not afraid to utter such words?

_Prometheus._ What should _I_ fear who cannot die?

_Chorus._ But _he_ Can visit thee with dreader woe than death's.

_Prometheus._ Why, let him do it! I am here, prepared For all things and their pangs.

_Chorus._ The wise are they Who reverence Adrasteia.

_Prometheus._ Reverence thou, Adore thou, flatter thou, whomever reigns, Whenever reigning! but for me, your Zeus Is less than nothing. Let him act and reign His brief hour out according to his will-- He will not, therefore, rule the G.o.ds too long.

But lo! I see that courier-G.o.d of Zeus, That new-made menial of the new-crowned king: He doubtless comes to announce to us something new.

_HERMES enters._

_Hermes._ I speak to thee, the sophist, the talker-down Of scorn by scorn, the sinner against G.o.ds, The reverencer of men, the thief of fire,-- I speak to thee and adjure thee! Zeus requires Thy declaration of what marriage-rite Thus moves thy vaunt and shall hereafter cause His fall from empire. Do not wrap thy speech In riddles, but speak clearly! Never cast Ambiguous paths, Prometheus, for my feet, Since Zeus, thou mayst perceive, is scarcely won To mercy by such means.

_Prometheus._ A speech well-mouthed In the utterance, and full-minded in the sense, As doth befit a servant of the G.o.ds!

New G.o.ds, ye newly reign, and think forsooth Ye dwell in towers too high for any dart To carry a wound there!--have I not stood by While two kings fell from thence? and shall I not Behold the third, the same who rules you now, Fall, shamed to sudden ruin?--Do I seem To tremble and quail before your modern G.o.ds?

Far be it from me!--For thyself, depart, Re-tread thy steps in haste. To all thou hast asked I answer nothing.

_Hermes._ Such a wind of pride Impelled thee of yore full-sail upon these rocks.

_Prometheus._ I would not barter---learn thou soothly that!-- My suffering for thy service. I maintain It is a n.o.bler thing to serve these rocks Than live a faithful slave to father Zeus.

Thus upon scorners I retort their scorn.

_Hermes._ It seems that thou dost glory in thy despair.