PROMETHEUS BOUND. 335 PROMETHEUS BOUND. ANTISTROPH III. And lo! the ocean billows murmur loud The sea-depths groan, and Hades' swarthy pit Bewail his bitter griefs. [ÆSCHYLUS, a famous tragic poet of Greece, was born in Attica, B. c. 525, and died in Sicily, at the age of 68. At the age of 25, he was a competitor for the prize of And fountains of clear rivers as they flow, tragedy, which he did not gain, however, until fifteen years later. Eschylus fought at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Platea. In 468 B. C., Sophocles defeated him in a contest for the honors of tragedy, when he quitted Athens, and took up his residence at Syraeuse. The dramas of Eschylus which have survived, are only seven, out of seventy said to have been written by him. He was a great and original genius, and did much to perfect dramatic art, limiting the choral parts, introducing the dialogue, and improving the costumes And scenery of the stage.] Chor. I grieve, Prometheus, for thy dreary fate, With streams, as when the watery south wind blows, For lo! these things are all unenviable, ANTISTROPH. And all the country echoeth with the moan, Of ancient days far-seen that thou did'st share And all the mortal men who hold the plain They grieve in sympathy For thy woes lamentable. STROPH II. And they, the maiden band who find their home Or Scythian horde in earth's remotest clime, ANTISTROPH II. And warlike glory of Arabia's tribes, Who nigh to Caucasos In rock fort dwell, An army fearful with sharp pointed spear STROPH III. One other Titan only have I seen, One other of the gods, Thus bound in woes of adamantine strength Atlas, who ever groans Beneath the burden of a crushing might, Prom. Think not it is through pride or stiff self-will By which to free myself from this my woe. Chor. Foul shame thou sufferest: of thy sense reaved, Thou errest greatly: and like leech unskilled, Wherewith to heal thine own soul's sicknesses. Prom. Hearing what yet remains thou'lt wonder more, What arts and what resources I devised: And this the chief: if any one fell ill, There was no help for him, nor healing food, Nor unguent, nor yet potion; but for want Of drugs they wasted, till I showed to them The blendings of all mild medicaments, I gave them many modes of prophecy; And I first taught them what dreams needs must prove True visions, and made known the ominous sounds Full hard to know; and tokens by the way, And flights of taloned birds I clearly marked,— Those on the right propitious to mankind, They each maintain, and what their enmities And I gave eyes to omens drawn from fire, In one short word, then, learn the truth condensed- Chorus: Nay, be not thou to men so over kind, Prom. It is not thus that Fate's decree is fixed; Chor. Who guides the helm, then, of Necessity? Prom. Of other theme make mention, for the time It must be hidden to the uttermost ; For by thus keeping it it is that I Escape my bondage foul, and these my pains. STROPH I. Chor. Ah! ne'er may Zeus the lord Nor may I sin in speech! May this grace more and more Never shall counsels vain Of mortal men break through Prom. Yea, now in very deed, No more in word alone, The earth shakes to and fro, In wild conflicting blasts, O Mother venerable! O Æther! rolling round The common light of all, ETIQUETTE AT THE COURT OF UGANDA. [CAPTAIN JOHN H. SPEKE, born in 1827, died in 1864 an English traveller, led with Captain Grant the expedi tion for African discovery which established the con nection of the Nile with the lakes of Central Africa. He published a "Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile" (1863), and "What Led to the Discovery of the Source of the Nile" (1864).] The mighty king was now reported to be sitting on his throne in the state-hut of the third tier. I advanced hat in hand, with my guard of honor following, formed in |