PROMETHEUS BOUND. A TRAGEDY. (Translated from the Greek of Eschylus.) [IN putting forth a new translation of a master-piece of ancient literature, which has already given employment to the pens of scholars, the author may be, with apparent reason, suspected of presumption, and an exaggerated opinion of his own powers; with a view to the removal of such suspicions, it may be as well for him candidly to state the motives which induced him to take upon himself so arduous a task. It was not with the hope of surpassing former translations of the same work (for, in fact, he must plead guilty to a very limited acquaintance with them,) nor with his mind fixed on defects existing in them, but simply in the belief that the King's College Magazine might fall into the hands of some, who, unacquainted with the language of the original, and previous versions of it, would nevertheless be glad to become familiar with so noble a specimen of the Greek drama, that the following translation has been undertaken and continued.] SCENE.-The Caucasian range of mountains, surrounded by desert plains, and looking down on the Euxine and Caspian Seas. It remains unchanged throughout the Play. Enter PROMETHEUS, guarded by KRATOS, BIA, and VULCAN. KRATOS. Earth's farthest confines have our steps attained, This robber-god; who, beyond measure bold, By impious theft has given; for which condemned, He shall unlearn his love for human race, And own with awe the royal power of Jove. VULCAN. Your task is done, and Jove's behest by you Where neither kindly voice, nor human form, Scatter the morning frost; thy pining form, Honours unmeet to mortals thou didst give; KRAT. Why tardy thus in pity waste thy breath? Oh! rather hate the enemy of heaven, By every god abhorred, who durst betray Thy sacred honours to that earth-born race. VULC. Friendship of old, by kindred blood cemented, Strikes horror to my soul. KRAT. Be it so ; and yet Thy father's high behest to disobey A stouter heart demands. This rather fear. VULC. Oh! thou art ever deaf to pity's voice. KRAT. Will pity heal his wounds? Cease then to spend Thy words and tears in profitless regret. KRAT. Ay! nought will please, but 'mid the gods to reign Supreme-but Jove alone from toil is free. VULC. 'Tis but too true. KRAT. Thy prisoner here, lest his all-seeing glance Spy thy delay. VULC. Then to thy task, and bind [weight The fetters lie prepared. KRAT. Then take them; and with strength the hammer's Wielding, around his hands securely twine them, And rivet to the rock. VULC. KRAT. 'Tis done. Strike harder, And strengthen every link; relax not one; VULC. This arm at least is firmly fixed and safe. VULC. So far I'm blameless. Now then, firmly wedge Th' unyielding iron's tooth between his breasts. VULC. Thou seest a sight, that well may shock the VULC. It must be done : But moderate that stern commanding tone. KRAT. Command I will, and spur you to the task: Quick now-descend, and bind his legs beneath. eye. VULC. Slight is the task, nor lengthened labour asks. KRAT. Now round his ancles fix the hollow rings; Securely fix-you have a strict taskmaster. VULC. Well suit thy rugged form and words severe. My fiery mood and stubborn soul as crimes? VULC. Let us depart; for fast his limbs around The chain is twined, and all my toil complete. KRAT. There now be proud; snatch from the gods their dues, And give them to those creatures of a day. Can any mortal save you now, my friend? 'Tis by mistake the gods have named you Wisdom, For now, it seems, you wisdom need yourself, To aid you in escaping from these chains. [Exeunt all but PROMETHEUS. PROMETHEUS. Oh! air divine, and ye swift-winged winds, Ye founts of waters, all ye countless smiles, That dance on ocean's wave, thou teeming earth, And thou, th' all-seeing orb of day, behold What ills I bear-a god by gods oppressed. And yet what words are these? 'Tis mine to read Can e'er befal; and, when the fates command, 'Tis folly to lament; since nought avails Here aye to hang, an airy prisoner. Alas! alas! what sound, What scent approacheth, scarce discernible Here ye see A prisoner god, and full of woe Who throng the high Olympian hall, Enter CHORUS OF OCEAN NYMPHS. Us our waving pinions bear. Aidance to our path have lent. CHORUS. All I see. A fearful cloud, While thy stately form I view Shackled to the mountain's height; |