SCENE.-STRENGTH and FORCE, HEPHASTUS and PROMETHEUS, at

the Rocks.

Strength.

WE reach the utmost limit of the earth,

The Scythian track, the desert without man,—
And now, Hephæstus, thou must needs fulfill
The mandate of our father, and, with links
Indissoluble of adamantine chains,
Fasten against this beetling precipice,

This guilty god! Because he filched away
Thine own bright flower, the glory of plastic fire,
And gifted mortals with it,-such a sin,
It doth behoove he expiate to the gods,
And learn free service to the rule of Zeus,
And leave disused his 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 god,
Howbeit necessity compels me so

That I must dare it,—and our Zeus commands
With word as heavy as bolts-inevitable!
Ho!-lofty 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!-where thy beauty's
flower,

Scorched in the sun's clear heat, shall fade away,
And night come up with garniture of stars
To comfort thee with shadow, and the sun
Disperse, with retrickt beams, the morning frosts;
And 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!--for in that thou, a god,
Didst brave the wrath of gods, 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 god the gods hate?—one too who betrayed
Thy glory unto men?

Hephaestus.

An awful thing

Grant it be;

Is kinship joined to friendship.

Strength.

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 labor on the air

To bootless uses.

Hephaestus.

Cursed handicraft!

I curse and hate thee, O my craft!

Except to rule the gods. There is none free

Except King Zeus.

Hephaestus.

I know it very well:

I

argue not against it.

Why not, then,

Strength.

Make haste, and bind the fetters over HIM,

Lest Zeus behold thee lagging.

Wedge him in deeper,

The work is done,

Still faster grapple him,leave no inch to stir!

Here's an arm, at least,

Now, then, clench along

He's terrible for finding a way out

Where others could not.

The other strongly. Let the sophist learn

He's duller than our Zeus.

Hephaestus.

Accuse me justly!

Strength.

Oh, none but HE

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 shrink again,

And breathe groans for the enemies of Zeus ?
Beware, lest thine own pity find thee out.

Hephaestus. Thou dost behold a spectacle that turns The sight o' the eyes to pity.

Strength.

I behold

A sinner suffer his sin's penalty.

But lash the thongs about his sides.
Hephaestus.

So much,

I must do. Urge no farther than I must. Strength. Ay, but I will urge!-and, with shout on shout,

Will hound thee at this quarry! Get thee down
And ring amain the iron round his legs!

Hephaestus. That work was not long doing.
Strength.

Heavily now

Let fall the strokes upon the perforant gyves!
For He who rates the work has a heavy hand.
Hephaestus. Thy speech is savage as thy shape.
Strength.

Gentle and tender! but revile not me

For the firm will and the untruckling hate.

Be thou

Hephaestus. Let us go! He is netted round with chains.

Strength. Here, now, taunt on! and having spoiled the gods

Of honors, crown withal thy
Who live a whole day out!

mortal men

Why how could they Draw off from thee one single of thy griefs? Methinks the Demons gave thee a wrong name, Prometheus, which means Providence, because Thou dost thyself require a providence,

To escape the crushing of this rolling Doom. Prometheus alone. O holy Æther, and swiftwinged Winds,

And River-wells, and laughter infinite
Of yon Sea-waves! Earth, mother of us all,
And all-viewing cyclic Sun, I cry on you!-
Behold me a god, what I endure from gods!
Behold, with throe on throe,

How, wasted by this woe,

I wrestle down the myriad years of Time!
Behold, how, fast around me,

The new King of the happy ones sublime
Has flung the chain he forged, has shamed and
bound me!

Woe, woe! to-day's woe and the coming mor

row's,

I cover with one groan! And where is found me
A limit to these sorrows?

And yet
what word do I say? I have foreknown
Clearly all things that should be-nothing done,
Comes sudden to my soul-and I must bear
What is ordained with patience, being aware
Necessity doth front the universe

With an invincible gesture. Yet this curse
Which strikes me now, I find it hard to brave
In silence or in speech. Because I gave
Honor to mortals, I have yoked my soul
To this compelling fate! Because I stole