Part 31 (1/2)
PROMETHEUS
Yea-seek not therefore to foreknow thy woes.
IO
As thou didst proffer hope, withdraw it not.
PROMETHEUS
Two tales I have-choose! for I grant thee one.
IO
And which be they? reveal, and leave me choice.
PROMETHEUS
I grant it: shall I in all clearness show Thy future woes, or my deliverance?
CHORUS
Nay! of the two, vouchsafe her wish to her And mine to me, deigning a truth to each- To her, reveal her future wanderings- To me, thy future saviour, as I crave!
PROMETHEUS
I will not set myself to thwart your will Withholding aught of what ye crave to know.
First to thee, Io, will I tell and trace Thy scared circuitous wandering mark it well, Deep in retentive tablets of the soul.
When thou hast overpast the ferry's flow That sunders continent from continent, Straight to the eastward and the flaming face Of dawn, and highways trodden by the sun, Pa.s.s, till thou come unto the windy land Of daughters born to Boreas: beware Lest the strong spirit of the stormy blast s.n.a.t.c.h thee aloft, and sweep thee to the void, On wings of raving wintry hurricane!
Wend by the noisy tumult of the wave, Until thou reach the Gorgon-haunted plains Beside Cisthene. In that solitude Dwell Phorcys' daughters, beldames worn with time, Three, each swan-shapen, single-toothed, and all Peering thro' shared endowment of one eye; Never on them doth the sun shed his rays, Never falls radiance of the midnight moon.
But, hard by these, their sisters, clad with wings, Serpentine-curled, dwell, loathed of mortal men,- The Gorgons!-he of men who looks on them Shall gasp away his life. Of such fell guard I bid thee to beware. Now, mark my words When I another sight of terror tell- Beware the Gryphon pack, the hounds of Zeus, As keen of fang as silent of their tongues!
Beware the one-eyed Arimaspian band That tramp on horse-hoofs, dwelling by the ford Of Pluto and the stream that flows with gold: Keep thou aloof from these. To the world's end Thou comest at the last, the dark-faced tribe That dwell beside the sources of the sun, Where springs the river, Aethiopian named.
Make thou thy way along his bank, until Thou come unto the mighty downward slope Where from the overland of Bybline hills Nile pours his hallowed earth-refres.h.i.+ng wave.
He by his course shall guide thee to the realm Named from himself, three-angled, water-girt; There, Io, at the last, hath Fate ordained, For thee and for thy race, the charge to found, Far from thy native sh.o.r.e, a new abode.
Lo, I have said: if aught hereof appear Hard to thy sense and inarticulate, Question me o'er again, and soothly learn- G.o.d wot, I have too much of leisure here!
CHORUS
If there be aught beyond, or aught pa.s.s'd o'er, Which thou canst utter, of her woe-worn maze, Speak on! if all is said, then grant to us That which we asked, as thou rememberest.
PROMETHEUS
She now hath learned, unto its utmost end, Her pilgrimage; but yet, that she may know That 'tis no futile fable she hath heard, I will recount her history of toil Ere she came hither; let it stand for proof Of what I told, my forecast of the end.
So, then-to sum in brief the weary tale- I turn me to thine earlier exile's close.
When to Molossia's lowland thou hadst come, Nigh to Dodona's cliff and ridge sublime, (Where is the shrine oracular and seat Of Zeus, Thesprotian styled, and that strange thing And marvel past belief, the prophet-oaks That syllable his speech), thou by their tongues, With clear acclaim and unequivocal, Wert thus saluted-Hail, O bride of Zeus That art to be-hast memory thereof?
Thence, stung anew with frenzy, thou didst hie Along the sh.o.r.eward track, to Rhea's lap, The mighty main; then, stormily distraught, Backward again and eastward. To all time, Be well a.s.sured, that inlet of the sea All mortal men shall call Ionian, In memory that Io fared thereby.
Take this for proof and witness that my mind Hath more in ken than ever sense hath shown.
(To the CHORUS) That which remains, to you and her alike I will relate, and, to my former words Reverting, add this final prophecy.
(To Io) There lieth, at the verge of land and sea, Where Nilus issues thro' the silted sand, A town, Canopus called: and there at length Shall Zeus renew the reason in thy brain With the mere touch and contact of his hand Fraught now with fear no more: and thou shalt bear A child, dark Epaphus-his very name Memorial of Zeus' touch that gave him life.
And his shall be the foison and the fruit Of all the land enriched by spreading Nile.
Thence the fifth generation of his seed Back unto Argos, yet unwillingly, Shall flee for refuge-fifty maidens they, Loathing a wedlock with their next in blood, More kin than kind, from their sire's brother sprung.
And on their track, astir with wild desire, Like falcons fierce closing on doves that flee, Shall speed the suitors, craving to achieve A prey forbidden, a reluctant bride.
Yet power divine shall foil them, and forbid Possession of the maids, whom Argive land Shall hold protected, when unsleeping hate, Horror, and watchful ambush of the night, Have laid the suitors dead, by female hands.
For every maid shall smite a man to death, Dyeing a dagger's edges in his throat- Such bed of love befall mine enemies!
Yet in one bride shall yearning conquer hate, Bidding her spare the bridegroom at her side, Blunting the keen edge of her set resolve.