Prometheus Bound

Aeschylus

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486113043
• Topic: Literatur
• Subtopic: Antikes & klassisches Drama

In Greek legend, Prometheus was the Titan who, against the will of Zeus, stole fire from the gods for the benefit of man. His terrible punishment by Zeus, and his continuing defiance of Zeus in the face of that punishment, remain universal symbols of man's vulnerability in any struggle with the gods.
In the epic drama Prometheus Bound, Aeschylus (c. 525–456 BC), first of the three great Greek tragic poets, re-creates this legendary conflict between rebellious subject and vengeful god. Chained for eternity to a barren rock, his flesh repeatedly torn by a ravaging eagle, Prometheus defends his championship of mankind, rejoicing in the many gifts of language and learning he has given man despite Zeus's cruel opposition.
Inspired by Prometheus's spirit, Aeschylus reaches beyond the myth to create one of literature's most gripping portrayals of man's inhumanity to man. How Prometheus clings to his convictions and braves his harsh fate give Prometheus Bound its extraordinary vitality and appeal. For over 2,000 years, this masterpiece of drama has held audiences enthralled. It is reprinted here in its entirety from the translation by George Thomson.

Prometheus Bound

(Enter PROMETHEUS, escorted by MIGHT and VIOLENCE, and accompanied by HEPHAESTUS, who carries the implements of his craft)

MIGHT

To Earth’s far-distant confines we are come,
The tract of Scythia, waste untrod by man.

And now, Hephaestus, thou must mind the task
Ordained thee by the Father — to enchain
This malefactor on yon mountain crags
In indissoluble bands of adamant.
Thy flower, fount of the arts, the light of fire,
He stole and gave to mortals. Such the sin
For which he must make recompense to heaven,
And so be taught to accept the tyranny
Of Zeus, and check his charity to man.

HEPHAESTUS

O Might, and Violence, for you the word
Of Zeus hath been fulfilled — your part is done.
But I have not the heart by force to bind
A god, my kinsman, in this wintry glen.
And yet I must brazen myself to do it;
For grave it is to scant the Father’s word.

True-counselling Themis’ lofty-ambitioned Son,
Not by my will, nor thine, shall rigorous bonds
Imprison thee in this unpeopled waste,
Where neither mortal form shall greet thine eye
Nor voice thine ear, but, parched in the sun’s pure flame,
Thy beauty’s bloom shall perish. Welcome to thee
Shall starry-kirtled Night enshroud the day,
Welcome the sun dispel the frosts of dawn;
And the anguish of thy state shall gnaw thy heart
For ever — unborn is thy deliverer.

Such thy reward for charity to man:
A god, thou didst defy the wrath of gods,
On men their powers bestowing unrighteously.
So on this cheerless rock must thou stand guard,
Upright, unsleeping, unbending the knee,
And with many a groan of unavailing grief
Cry out. Implacable is the heart of Zeus,
And harsh is every king whose power is new.

MIGHT

Enough: why this delay? why waste your pity?
Do you not hate the god all gods abhor,
Betrayer of your privilege to man?

HEPHAESTUS

The tie of kin and comradeship is strange.

MIGHT

True, but is’t possible to disregard
The Father’s word? do you not revere that more?

HEPHAESTUS

Ah, you were ever pitiless and proud!

MIGHT

To grieve for him cures nothing; so do you
Labour no more where labour is in vain.

HEPHAESTUS

O most abhorrent handicraft of mine!

MIGHT

Why do you hate it? In plain truth, your art
Is guiltless of the work that’s now to do.

HEPHAESTUS

Yet would that it had fallen to another!

MIGHT

All things are troublesome, save to rule the gods:
Liberty is the privilege of Zeus.

HEPHAESTUS (pointing to chains)

These teach me that, and I can make no answer.

MIGHT

No more delay then — in these chains bind him,
For fear the Father see your faltering.

HEPHAESTUS

Here are the curb-chains, ready to my hand.

MIGHT

Then manacle his hands with all your might,
Uplift the hammer, strike, and nail him down!

HEPHAESTUS

See, ’tis not vain, the work proceeds apace.

MIGHT

Strike harder, pin him, leave no fetter loose.
His wit can circumvent the closest strait.

HEPHAESTUS

That arm is fixed, fastened inextricably.

MIGHT

And now encase the other, that he may learn,
For all his craft, he is no match for Zeus.

HEPHAESTUS

Of none, save him, have I deserved reproach.

MIGHT

Now drive this stubborn adamantine edge
Deep through his breast and nail it firmly down.

HEPHAESTUS

Aiai, Prometheus! — for thy pains I groan.

MIGHT

Once more you falter, weeping for the foes
Of Zeus. Beware lest you should need your pity.

HEPHAESTUS

The spectacle thou seest doth wound the eye.

MIGHT

A knave I see repaid with his deserts.
Come, cast this iron girth about his ribs.

HEPHAESTUS

It must be done, you need not shout me on.

MIGHT

And yet I will shout — ay, I will hound you on.
Step down. Enclose his ankles in these rings.

HEPHAESTUS

See, without length of labour, it is done.

MIGHT

Now thrust these penetrating spancels home,
For hard it is to please our taskmaster.

HEPHAESTUS

How like your looks the utterance of your tongue!

MIGHT

Be soft yourself, so please you, but do not chide
My stubborn spirit and temperament severe.

HEPHAESTUS

His feet are netted. Let us go our ways.

(Exit)

MIGHT

Here now wax proud and plunder powers divine —
Thy gifts to creatures of a day! How can
Mortals relieve thee in thy present state?
Falsely we named thee the Foresighted One,
Prometheus — thine the need of foresight now,
How from this art to extricate thyself!

(Exeunt MIGHT and VIOLENCE)

PROMETHEUS

O divine Sky, and swiftly-winging Breezes,
O River-springs, and multitudinous gleam
Of smiling Ocean — to thee, All-Mother Earth,
And to the Sun’s all-seeing orb I cry:
See what I suffer from the gods, a god!

Witness how with anguish broken
Through ages of time without number
I shall labour in agony. Such are the bonds
That the new-throned Lord of the Blest hath designed
For my shame and dishonour.
Pheu, pheu! for the pain that is now and to come
I groan, and I cry, where is the destined
Term of my trial and my travail?

And yet what say I? All things I foreknow
That are to be: no unforeseen distress
Shall visit me, and I must bear the will
Of Fate as lightly as I may, and learn
The invincible strength of Necessity.
Yet of my present state I cannot speak,
Cannot be silent. The gifts I gave to man
Have harnessed me beneath this harsh duress.
I hunted down the stealthy fount of fire
In fennel stored, which schooled the race of men
In every art and taught them great resource.
Such the transgression which I expiate,
A helpless captive, shackled, shelterless!

Ah ah, ea ea!

What echo, what fragrance unseen wingeth nigh me?
Is it divine or mortal, or of mingled blood?

Visiting this desolate edge of earth,
Spectator of my agony — with what purpose else?

Behold in chains confined an ill-starred god,

The detested of Zeus and rejected of all
The celestial band that assembleth aloft
In the heavenly courts of the Highest,
For my too great love of the children of men!
Pheu, pheu! what again is the murmur I hear
As of birds hard by?
And the air is astir with the whispering beat
Of their hurrying wings.
Oh, fearful is all that approacheth.

CHORUS OF OCEANIDS (Strophe 1)

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