The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 31

NOTE: _137 And love 1820; And lovest cj. Swinburne.

PROMETHEUS: Venerable mother!

All else who live and suffer take from thee Some comfort; flowers, and fruits, and happy sounds, And love, though fleeting; these may not be mine.

But mine own words, I pray, deny me not. _190

THE EARTH: They shall be told. Ere Babylon was dust, The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, Met his own image walking in the garden.

That apparition, sole of men, he saw.

For know there are two worlds of life and death: _195 One that which thou beholdest; but the other Is underneath the grave, where do inhabit The shadows of all forms that think and live Till death unite them and they part no more; Dreams and the light imaginings of men, _200 And all that faith creates or love desires, Terrible, strange, sublime and beauteous shapes.

There thou art, and dost hang, a writhing shade, 'Mid whirlwind-peopled mountains; all the G.o.ds Are there, and all the powers of nameless worlds, _205 Vast, sceptred phantoms; heroes, men, and beasts; And Demogorgon, a tremendous gloom; And he, the supreme Tyrant, on his throne Of burning gold. Son, one of these shall utter The curse which all remember. Call at will _210 Thine own ghost, or the ghost of Jupiter, Hades or Typhon, or what mightier G.o.ds From all-prolific Evil, since thy ruin, Have sprung, and trampled on my prostrate sons.

Ask, and they must reply: so the revenge _215 Of the Supreme may sweep through vacant shades, As rainy wind through the abandoned gate Of a fallen palace.

PROMETHEUS: Mother, let not aught Of that which may be evil, pa.s.s again My lips, or those of aught resembling me. _220 Phantasm of Jupiter, arise, appear!

IONE: My wings are folded o'er mine ears: My wings are crossed o'er mine eyes: Yet through their silver shade appears, And through their lulling plumes arise, _225 A Shape, a throng of sounds; May it be no ill to thee O thou of many wounds!

Near whom, for our sweet sister's sake, Ever thus we watch and wake. _230

PANTHEA: The sound is of whirlwind underground, Earthquake, and fire, and mountains cloven; The shape is awful like the sound, Clothed in dark purple, star-inwoven.

A sceptre of pale gold _235 To stay steps proud, o'er the slow cloud His veined hand doth hold.

Cruel he looks, but calm and strong, Like one who does, not suffers wrong.

PHANTASM OF JUPITER: Why have the secret powers of this strange world _240 Driven me, a frail and empty phantom, hither On direst storms? What unaccustomed sounds Are hovering on my lips, unlike the voice With which our pallid race hold ghastly talk In darkness? And, proud sufferer, who art thou? _245

PROMETHEUS: Tremendous Image, as thou art must be He whom thou shadowest forth. I am his foe, The t.i.tan. Speak the words which I would hear, Although no thought inform thine empty voice.

THE EARTH: Listen! And though your echoes must be mute, _250 Grey mountains, and old woods, and haunted springs, Prophetic caves, and isle-surrounding streams, Rejoice to hear what yet ye cannot speak.

PHANTASM: A spirit seizes me and speaks within: It tears me as fire tears a thunder-cloud. _255

PANTHEA: See, how he lifts his mighty looks, the Heaven Darkens above.

IONE: He speaks! O shelter me!

PROMETHEUS: I see the curse on gestures proud and cold, And looks of firm defiance, and calm hate, And such despair as mocks itself with smiles, _260 Written as on a scroll: yet speak! Oh, speak!

PHANTASM: Fiend, I defy thee! with a calm, fixed mind, All that thou canst inflict I bid thee do; Foul Tyrant both of G.o.ds and Humankind, One only being shalt thou not subdue. _265 Rain then thy plagues upon me here, Ghastly disease, and frenzying fear; And let alternate frost and fire Eat into me, and be thine ire Lightning, and cutting hail, and legioned forms _270 Of furies, driving by upon the wounding storms.

Ay, do thy worst. Thou art omnipotent.

O'er all things but thyself I gave thee power, And my own will. Be thy swift mischiefs sent To blast mankind, from yon ethereal tower. _275 Let thy malignant spirit move In darkness over those I love: On me and mine I imprecate The utmost torture of thy hate; And thus devote to sleepless agony, _280 This undeclining head while thou must reign on high.

But thou, who art the G.o.d and Lord: O, thou, Who fillest with thy soul this world of woe, To whom all things of Earth and Heaven do bow In fear and wors.h.i.+p: all-prevailing foe! _285 I curse thee! let a sufferer's curse Clasp thee, his torturer, like remorse; Till thine Infinity shall be A robe of envenomed agony; And thine Omnipotence a crown of pain, _290 To cling like burning gold round thy dissolving brain.

Heap on thy soul, by virtue of this Curse, Ill deeds, then be thou d.a.m.ned, beholding good; Both infinite as is the universe, And thou, and thy self-torturing solitude. _295 An awful image of calm power Though now thou sittest, let the hour Come, when thou must appear to be That which thou art internally; And after many a false and fruitless crime _300 Scorn track thy lagging fall through boundless s.p.a.ce and time.

PROMETHEUS: Were these my words, O Parent?

THE EARTH: They were thine.

PROMETHEUS: It doth repent me: words are quick and vain; Grief for awhile is blind, and so was mine.

I wish no living thing to suffer pain. _305

THE EARTH: Misery, Oh misery to me, That Jove at length should vanquish thee.

Wail, howl aloud, Land and Sea, The Earth's rent heart shall answer ye.

Howl, Spirits of the living and the dead, _310 Your refuge, your defence, lies fallen and vanquished.

FIRST ECHO: Lies fallen and vanquished!

SECOND ECHO: Fallen and vanquished!

IONE: Fear not: 'tis but some pa.s.sing spasm, The t.i.tan is unvanquished still. _315 But see, where through the azure chasm Of yon forked and snowy hill Trampling the slant winds on high With golden-sandalled feet, that glow Under plumes of purple dye, _320 Like rose-ensanguined ivory, A Shape comes now, Stretching on high from his right hand A serpent-cinctured wand.

PANTHEA: 'Tis Jove's world-wandering herald, Mercury. _325

IONE: And who are those with hydra tresses And iron wings that climb the wind, Whom the frowning G.o.d represses Like vapours steaming up behind, Clanging loud, an endless crowd-- _330

PANTHEA: These are Jove's tempest-walking hounds, Whom he gluts with groans and blood, When charioted on sulphurous cloud He bursts Heaven's bounds.

IONE: Are they now led, from the thin dead _335 On new pangs to be fed?

PANTHEA: The t.i.tan looks as ever, firm, not proud.

FIRST FURY: Ha! I scent life!

SECOND FURY: Let me but look into his eyes!

THIRD FURY: The hope of torturing him smells like a heap Of corpses, to a death-bird after battle. _340

FIRST FURY: Darest thou delay, O Herald! take cheer, Hounds Of h.e.l.l: what if the Son of Maia soon Should make us food and sport--who can please long The Omnipotent?

MERCURY: Back to your towers of iron, And gnash, beside the streams of fire and wail, _345 Your foodless teeth. Geryon, arise! and Gorgon, Chimaera, and thou Sphinx, subtlest of fiends Who ministered to Thebes Heaven's poisoned wine, Unnatural love, and more unnatural hate: These shall perform your task.

FIRST FURY: Oh, mercy! mercy! _350 We die with our desire: drive us not back!

MERCURY: Crouch then in silence.

Awful Sufferer!

To thee unwilling, most unwillingly I come, by the great Father's will driven down, To execute a doom of new revenge. _355 Alas! I pity thee, and hate myself That I can do no more: aye from thy sight Returning, for a season, Heaven seems h.e.l.l, So thy worn form pursues me night and day, Smiling reproach. Wise art thou, firm and good, _360 But vainly wouldst stand forth alone in strife Against the Omnipotent; as yon clear lamps That measure and divide the weary years From which there is no refuge, long have taught And long must teach. Even now thy Torturer arms _365 With the strange might of unimagined pains The powers who scheme slow agonies in h.e.l.l, And my commission is to lead them here, Or what more subtle, foul, or savage fiends People the abyss, and leave them to their task. _370 Be it not so! there is a secret known To thee, and to none else of living things, Which may transfer the sceptre of wide Heaven, The fear of which perplexes the Supreme: Clothe it in words, and bid it clasp his throne _375 In intercession; bend thy soul in prayer, And like a suppliant in some gorgeous fane, Let the will kneel within thy haughty heart: For benefits and meek submission tame The fiercest and the mightiest.

PROMETHEUS: Evil minds _380 Change good to their own nature. I gave all He has; and in return he chains me here Years, ages, night and day: whether the Sun Split my parched skin, or in the moony night The crystal-winged snow cling round my hair: _385 Whilst my beloved race is trampled down By his thought-executing ministers.

Such is the tyrant's recompense: 'tis just: He who is evil can receive no good; And for a world bestowed, or a friend lost, _390 He can feel hate, fear, shame; not grat.i.tude: He but requites me for his own misdeed.

Kindness to such is keen reproach, which breaks With bitter stings the light sleep of Revenge.

Submission, thou dost know I cannot try: _395 For what submission but that fatal word, The death-seal of mankind's captivity, Like the Sicilian's hair-suspended sword, Which trembles o'er his crown, would he accept, Or could I yield? Which yet I will not yield. _400 Let others flatter Crime, where it sits throned In brief Omnipotence: secure are they: For Justice, when triumphant, will weep down Pity, not punishment, on her own wrongs, Too much avenged by those who err. I wait, _405 Enduring thus, the retributive hour Which since we spake is even nearer now.

But hark, the h.e.l.l-hounds clamour: fear delay: Behold! Heaven lowers under thy Father's frown.

MERCURY: Oh, that we might be spared; I to inflict _410 And thou to suffer! Once more answer me: Thou knowest not the period of Jove's power?

PROMETHEUS: I know but this, that it must come.

MERCURY: Alas!

Thou canst not count thy years to come of pain?