Percy Bysshe Shelley - Prometheus Unbound (Act 2 Scene 2.4) lyrics

SCENE 2.4: THE CAVE OF DEMOGORGON. ASIA AND PANTHEA PANTHEA: What veiled form sits on that ebon throne? ASIA: The veil has fallen. PANTHEA: I see a mighty darkness Filling the seat of power, and rays of gloom Dart round, as light from the meridian sun. —Ungazed upon and shapeless; neither limb, Nor form, nor outline; yet we feel it is A living Spirit. DEMOGORGON: Ask what thou wouldst know. ASIA: What canst thou tell? DEMOGORGON: All things thou dar'st demand. ASIA: Who made the living world? DEMOGORGON: God. ASIA: Who made all That it contains? thought, pa**ion, reason, will, Imagination? DEMOGORGON: God: Almighty God. ASIA: Who made that sense which, when the winds of Spring In rarest visitation, or the voice Of one beloved heard in youth alone, Fills the faint eyes with falling tears which dim The radiant looks of unbewailing flowers, And leaves this peopled earth a solitude When it returns no more? DEMOGORGON: Merciful God. ASIA: And who made terror, madness, crime, remorse, Which from the links of the great chain of things, To every thought within the mind of man Sway and drag heavily, and each one reels Under the load towards the pit of d**h; Abandoned hope, and love that turns to hate; And self-contempt, bitterer to drink than blood; Pain, whose unheeded and familiar speech Is howling, and keen shrieks, day after day; And Hell, or the sharp fear of Hell? DEMOGORGON: He reigns. ASIA: Utter his name: a world pining in pain Asks but his name: curses shall drag him down. DEMOGORGON: He reigns. ASIA: I feel, I know it: who? DEMOGORGON: He reigns. ASIA: Who reigns? There was the Heaven and Earth at first, And Light and Love; then Saturn, from whose throne Time fell, an envious shadow: such the state Of the earth's primal spirits beneath his sway, As the calm joy of flowers and living leaves Before the wind or sun has withered them And semivital worms; but he refused The birthright of their being, knowledge, power, The sk** which wields the elements, the thought Which pierces this dim universe like light, Self-empire, and the majesty of love; For thirst of which they fainted. Then Prometheus Gave wisdom, which is strength, to Jupiter, And with this law alone, 'Let man be free,' Clothed him with the dominion of wide Heaven. To know nor faith, nor love, nor law; to be Omnipotent but friendless is to reign; And Jove now reigned; for on the race of man First famine, and then toil, and then disease, Strife, wounds, and ghastly d**h unseen before, Fell; and the unseasonable seasons drove With alternating shafts of frost and fire, Their shelterless, pale tribes to mountain caves: And in their desert hearts fierce wants he sent, And mad disquietudes, and shadows idle Of unreal good, which levied mutual war, So ruining the lair wherein they raged. Prometheus saw, and waked the legioned hopes Which sleep within folded Elysian flowers, Nepenthe, Moly, Amaranth, fadeless blooms, That they might hide with thin and rainbow wings The shape of d**h; and Love he sent to bind The disunited tendrils of that vine Which bears the wine of life, the human heart; And he tamed fire which, like some beast of prey, Most terrible, but lovely, played beneath The frown of man; and tortured to his will Iron and gold, the slaves and signs of power, And gems and poisons, and all subtlest forms Hidden beneath the mountains and the waves. He gave man speech, and speech created thought, Which is the measure of the universe; And Science struck the thrones of earth and heaven, Which shook, but fell not; and the harmonious mind Poured itself forth in all-prophetic song; And music lifted up the listening spirit Until it walked, exempt from mortal care, Godlike, o'er the clear billows of sweet sound; And human hands first mimicked and then mocked, With moulded limbs more lovely than its own, The human form, till marble grew divine; And mothers, gazing, drank the love men see Reflected in their race, behold, and perish. He told the hidden power of herbs and springs, And Disease drank and slept. d**h grew like sleep. He taught the implicated orbits woven Of the wide-wandering stars; and how the sun Changes his lair, and by what secret spell The pale moon is transformed, when her broad eye Gazes not on the interlunar sea: He taught to rule, as life directs the limbs, The tempest-winged chariots of the Ocean, And the Celt knew the Indian. Cities then Were built, and through their snow-like columns flowed The warm winds, and the azure ether shone, And the blue sea and shadowy hills were seen. Such, the alleviations of his state, Prometheus gave to man, for which he hangs Withering in destined pain: but who rains down Evil, the immedicable plague, which, while Man looks on his creation like a God And sees that it is glorious, drives him on, The wreck of his own will, the scorn of earth, The outcast, the abandoned, the alone? Not Jove: while yet his frown shook Heaven ay, when His adversary from adamantine chains Cursed him, he trembled like a slave. Declare Who is his master? Is he too a slave? DEMOGORGON: All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil: Thou knowest if Jupiter be such or no. ASIA: Whom calledst thou God? DEMOGORGON: I spoke but as ye speak, For Jove is the supreme of living things. ASIA: Who is the master of the slave? DEMOGORGON: If the abysm Could vomit forth its secrets…But a voice Is wanting, the deep truth is imageless; For what would it avail to bid thee gaze On the revolving world? What to bid speak Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal Love. ASIA: So much I asked before, and my heart gave The response thou hast given; and of such truths Each to itself must be the oracle. One more demand; and do thou answer me As my own soul would answer, did it know That which I ask. Prometheus shall arise Henceforth the sun of this rejoicing world: When shall the destined hour arrive? DEMOGORGON: Behold! ASIA: The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds Which trample the dim winds: in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars: Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed, As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing hair; they all Sweep onward. DEMOGORGON: These are the immortal Hours, Of whom thou didst demand. One waits for thee. ASIA: A Spirit with a dreadful countenance Checks its dark chariot by the craggy gulf. Unlike thy brethren, ghastly charioteer, Who art thou? Whither wouldst thou bear me? Speak! SPIRIT: I am the shadow of a destiny More dread than is my aspect: ere yon planet Has set, the darkness which ascends with me Shall wrap in lasting night heaven's kingless throne. ASIA: What meanest thou? PANTHEA: That terrible shadow floats Up from its throne, as may the lurid smoke Of earthquake-ruined cities o'er the sea. Lo! it ascends the car; the coursers fly Terrified: watch its path among the stars Blackening the night! ASIA: Thus I am answered: strange! PANTHEA: See, near the verge, another chariot stays; An ivory shell inlaid with crimson fire, Which comes and goes within its sculptured rim Of delicate strange tracery; the young spirit That guides it has the dove-like eyes of hope; How its soft smiles attract the soul! as light Lures winged insects through the lampless air. SPIRIT: My coursers are fed with the lightning, They drink of the whirlwind's stream, And when the red morning is bright'ning They bathe in the fresh sunbeam; They have strength for their swiftness I deem; Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean. I desire: and their speed makes night kindle; I fear: they outstrip the Typhoon; Ere the cloud piled on Atlas can dwindle We encircle the earth and the moon: We shall rest from long labours at noon: Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean.