PROMETHEUS THE FIREGIVER

A Mask

in the Greek Manner

PREVIOUS EDITIONS

1. Private Press of H. Daniel. Oxford, 1883.
2. Chiswick Press. G. Bell & Sons, 1884.

3. Clarendon Press. Smith, Elder & Co. Vol. I, 1898.

ARGUMENT

Prometheus coming on earth to give fire to men appears before the palace of Inachus in Argos on a festival of Zeus. He interrupts the ceremony by announcing fire and persuades Inachus to dare the anger of Zeus and accept the gift. Inachus fetching Argeia his wife from the palace has in turn to quiet her fears. He asks a prophecy of Prometheus who foretells the fate of Io their daughter. Prometheus then setting flame to the altar and writing his own name thereon in the place of Zeus disappears.

The Chorus sing (1) a Hymn to Zeus with the stories of the birth of Zeus and the marriage of Hera with the dances of the Curetes and the Hesperides, (2) their anticipation of fire with an Ode on Wonder, (3) a Tragic Hymn on the lot of man, (4) a Fire-chorus, (5) a final Chorus in praise of Prometheus. All the characters are good. Prometheus prologizes. He carries a long reed.

DRAMATIS PERSONE

PROMETHEUS.

INACHUS.

ARGEIA.

SERVANT.

IO (persona muta).

CHORUS: Youths and maidens of the house of
Inachus.

The SCENE is in ARGOS before the palace of Inachus. An altar inscribed to Zeus is at the

centre of the stage.

PROMETHEUS

THE FIREGIVER

PROMETHEUS.

FROM high Olympus and the ætherial courts,
Where mighty Zeus our angry king confirms

The Fates' decrees and bends the wills of the gods,

I come and on the earth step with glad foot.
This variegated ocean-floor of the air,

The changeful circle of fair land, that lies
Heaven's dial, sisterly mirror of night and day :
The wide o'er-wandered plain, this nether world
My truant haunt is, when from jealous eyes
I steal, for hither 'tis I steal, and here
Unseen repair my joy: yet not unseen
Methinks, nor seen unguessed of him I seek.
Rather by swath or furrow, or where the path
Is walled with corn I am found, by trellised vine
Or olive set in banks or orchard trim :

I watch all toil and tilth, farm, field and fold,
And taste the mortal joy; since not in heaven
Among our easeful gods hath facile time.

A touch so keen, to wake such love of life

As stirs the frail and careful being, who here,
The king of sorrows, melancholy man,
Bows at his labour, but in heart erect

A god stands, nor for any gift of god

Would barter his immortal-hearted prime.

Could I but win this world from Zeus for mine, With not a god to vex my happy rule,

I would inhabit here and leave high heaven :

So much I love it and its race of men,