Volume I Part 17 (1/2)

_Strength._ We reach the utmost limit of the earth, The Scythian track, the desert without man.

And now, Hephaestus, thou must needs fulfil The mandate of our Father, and with links Indissoluble of adamantine chains Fasten against this beetling precipice This guilty G.o.d. Because he filched away Thine own bright flower, the glory of plastic fire, And gifted mortals with it,--such a sin It doth behove he expiate to the G.o.ds, Learning to accept the empery of Zeus And leave off his old trick of loving man.

_Hephaestus._ O Strength and Force, for you, our Zeus's will Presents a deed for doing, no more!--but _I_, I lack your daring, up this storm-rent chasm To fix with violent hands a kindred G.o.d, Howbeit necessity compels me so That I must dare it, and our Zeus commands With a most inevitable word. Ho, thou!

High-thoughted son of Themis who is sage!

Thee loth, I loth must rivet fast in chains Against this rocky height unclomb by man, Where never human voice nor face shall find Out thee who lov'st them, and thy beauty's flower, Scorched in the sun's clear heat, shall fade away.

Night shall come up with garniture of stars To comfort thee with shadow, and the sun Disperse with retrickt beams the morning-frosts, But through all changes sense of present woe Shall vex thee sore, because with none of them There comes a hand to free. Such fruit is plucked From love of man! and in that thou, a G.o.d, Didst brave the wrath of G.o.ds and give away Undue respect to mortals, for that crime Thou art adjudged to guard this joyless rock, Erect, unslumbering, bending not the knee, And many a cry and unavailing moan To utter on the air. For Zeus is stern And new-made kings are cruel.

_Strength._ Be it so.

Why loiter in vain pity? Why not hate A G.o.d the G.o.ds hate? one too who betrayed Thy glory unto men?

_Hephaestus._ An awful thing Is kins.h.i.+p joined to friends.h.i.+p.

_Strength._ Grant it be; Is disobedience to the Father's word A possible thing? Dost quail not more for that?

_Hephaestus._ Thou, at least, art a stern one: ever bold.

_Strength._ Why, if I wept, it were no remedy; And do not _thou_ spend labour on the air To bootless uses.

_Hephaestus._ Cursed handicraft!

I curse and hate thee, O my craft!

_Strength._ Why hate Thy craft most plainly innocent of all These pending ills?

_Hephaestus._ I would some other hand Were here to work it!

_Strength._ All work hath its pain, Except to rule the G.o.ds. There is none free Except King Zeus.

_Hephaestus._ I know it very well: I argue not against it.

_Strength._ Why not, then, Make haste and lock the fetters over HIM Lest Zeus behold thee lagging?

_Hephaestus._ Here be chains.

Zeus may behold these.

_Strength._ Seize him: strike amain: Strike with the hammer on each side his hands-- Rivet him to the rock.

_Hephaestus._ The work is done, And thoroughly done.

_Strength._ Still faster grapple him; Wedge him in deeper: leave no inch to stir.

He's terrible for finding a way out From the irremediable.

_Hephaestus._ Here's an arm, at least, Grappled past freeing.

_Strength._ Now then, buckle me The other securely. Let this wise one learn He's duller than our Zeus.

_Hephaestus._ Oh, none but he Accuse me justly.

_Strength._ Now, straight through the chest, Take him and bite him with the clenching tooth Of the adamantine wedge, and rivet him.

_Hephaestus._ Alas, Prometheus, what thou sufferest here I sorrow over.

_Strength._ Dost thou flinch again And breathe groans for the enemies of Zeus?

Beware lest thine own pity find thee out.