The Truth Of Prometheus (The Play) Part 1

The Truth of Prometheus

Written by Lorient Montaner

(Contents)

Dramatis Personae ix

ACT I

ACT II

ACT III

ACT IV

ACT V

Dramatis Personae

PROMETHEUS–A poet

DEMOTIMOS–A poet

PERSEPHONE–A philosopher and teacher

NICHOMACHOS–A student of Persephone

HEDISTE–A student of Persephone

ARISTION–An artisan

MIKRION–A politician

POLYKRATES–A money-changer

SOPHOKLES–A student of Persephone

PHILLIPPOS–An astronomer

XANTHOS–A soldier

CEBES–A friend and student of Socrates

SIMMIAS–A friend and student of Socrates

Setting: Athens, Greece. The year is 389 BCE.

ACT I

SCENE I.

The centre of the Agora in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus, a poet from Thebes, arrives in Athens and reunites with his good friend Demotimos, ten years after the death of Socrates.

PROMETHEUS

Demotimos, thou hast not changed in thind appearance in ten years, whilst I have aged ten years more than my true years.

DEMOTIMOS

Indeed! Prometheus, what ill hath befallen thee, that thine eyes are full of gloom and thy countenance so haggard?

PROMETHEUS

I am troubled by the inescapable shadow of my failure—to find the one thing that has eluded me for ten long years.

DEMOTIMOS

What is that one thing that haunteth thy soul with such fervent passion?

PROMETHEUS

The quest for knowledge—to fully grasp the meaning of mine existence, the universal truth, and what fate awaiteth me.

DEMOTIMOS

Why? Thou must learn to live, like me—a true voluptuary and lover of life.

PROMETHEUS

The thought of sybaritic enjoyment bringeth me no satisfaction, not in its fullest form. I do not revel in the pleasures of indulgence and idleness as thou dost.

DEMOTIMOS

What art thou implying? Why dost thou speak in such veiled and condescending words? We all possess appetites—why should mine differ from thine?

PROMETHEUS

Forgive me, my friend, if I sounded patronising. I only meant that my purpose in life must be more than merely satisfying fleeting desires.

DEMOTIMOS

Dost thou suggest that I am wrong in seeking enjoyment and delight?

PROMETHEUS

Those words were thine, not mine.

DEMOTIMOS

Then speak no more in riddles. Tell me plainly what thou meanest, that I might understand thee.

PROMETHEUS

That is the trouble, dear friend—I know not precisely what I want. But I know it is not mere pleasure I seek.

DEMOTIMOS

But surely thou knowest that pleasure and delight are what all men desire. By Zeus, they are gifts from the gods! The talent of the poets, the passion of politicians, the vision of seers, the brilliance of craftsmen, the wonder of artists—these all belong to the history of ideas, institutions, and deeds.

PROMETHEUS

Perhaps. Yet it is not such a gift that I seek. I desire my ultimate destiny. As for the gods—why must I rely upon them for what I need? Have I not already honoured them enough, as any common man?

DEMOTIMOS

Were I not thy friend, I might think thee irreverent to the gods of Athens. Thou speakest as Socrates did—with dangerous rhetoric. Thou wouldst do better to consult the oracle at Delphi than chase after such foolishness elsewhere. Speak to the Pythian priestesses, and ask them of truth and destiny!

PROMETHEUS

It is not my intent to show irreverence. But is it wrong to earnestly seek knowledge, and thus, my purpose?

DEMOTIMOS

What truth dost thou seek? And which destiny? The one appointed by the gods, or one of thine own choosing?

PROMETHEUS

The universal truth, which applies to all men. As for my destiny—I must find it myself, through introspection and inquiry.

DEMOTIMOS

I warn thee, Prometheus. Socrates was condemned for this same pursuit. Thou knowest his fate. I cannot fathom the curiosities of men with such minds. Still, if thou art resolute, go to the southern quarter of the marketplace tomorrow.

PROMETHEUS

Why? What shall I find there?

DEMOTIMOS

There I shall introduce thee to the philosopher Persephone, a learnt man well-versed in the Attic traditions of philosophy. He once knew Socrates, and admired his teachings. Perhaps thou shalt meet Echecrates and Apollodorus as well, devoted pupils of the master. Now, I must leave thee, for I have unfinished business awaiting me.

SCENE II.

The phrontistery of the paideia of philosophy in Athens.

Demotimos escorts Prometheus to meet the philosopher. After greetings and Demotimos’ departure, Persephone, accompanied by his student Sophokles, addresses Prometheus.

PERSEPHONE

Thy friend has told me thou art on a special quest—for knowledge and to uncover thy destiny.

PROMETHEUS

And I have been told thou art a respected philosopher amongst thy students, sir.

PERSEPHONE

Then it is true? Thou seekest knowledge, and thy destiny?

PROMETHEUS

Indeed!

SOPHOKLES

Thou hast come to the right place. But I must ask—what kind of knowledge dost thou seek? And how can one foresee such an impossible thing as destiny?

PROMETHEUS

I seek that which has evaded me for decades: the knowledge of a universal truth that aligneth with my fate.

PERSEPHONE

The universal truth? Dost thou know what that is?

PROMETHEUS

Is it not knowledge itself, I wonder?

SOPHOKLES

I have not heard of this ‘universal truth’ before. I should be intrigued to know how it relates to the nature of human knowledge and wisdom.

PERSEPHONE

The universal truth, my young questioners, is a form of knowledge understood by only a rare few—those who have grasped its true essence.

SOPHOKLES

Why is it so rare? Why so secretive?

PERSEPHONE

A truth is called ‘universal’ if it is logically valid and unchanging across all times and places. Such a truth transcends the physical universe and is regarded as eternal or absolute.

PROMETHEUS

Then, teacher, what is this truth? And how might I obtain it, that I may understand my fate?

PERSEPHONE

Those are wise questions—yet I can answer only by supposition and inference.

PROMETHEUS

Is this not the same truth spoken of by Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle in their dialogues?

PERSEPHONE

It depends on what thou seekest in that truth, and how it relateth to the destiny thou wouldst fulfil.

PROMETHEUS

I seek the ultimate knowledge—the kind that will reveal to me my purpose.

PERSEPHONE

Then I ask thee—what shall this knowledge reveal? Will it be more or less than what thou hopest to find?

PROMETHEUS

I confess—I do not yet know.

PERSEPHONE

Then to gain knowledge, thou must first understand the deeper meaning of wisdom.

SOPHOKLES

Is not wisdom born of experience, master?

PERSEPHONE

Wisdom may be gained through experience or memory—what we call rote or ordalium, young man.

PROMETHEUS

And where might I obtain this wisdom of which thou speakest?

PERSEPHONE

Go forth—speak with the money-changer, the poet, the politician, the artisan, the astronomer, the soldier. Ask each about knowledge. Then return to me, the philosopher, and thou mayest discover thy destiny. For only through encountering many perspectives may one see the shape of truth.

SCENE III.

At the Agora in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus speaks to a money changer, by the name of Polykrates from the marketplace, in search of the universal truth to his destiny.

PROMETHEUS.

Art thou a money changer, if I may enquire?

POLYKRATES.

Aye! I am a money changer. How much money dost thou need to exchange?

PROMETHEUS.

I do not need to exchange any money.

POLYKRATES.

Thou dost not wish to exchange money? No drachmas or minae?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay! I do not wish to exchange any money, as I have mentioned to thee ere.

POLYKRATES.

Then what dost thou want from me that I am a busy man?

PROMETHEUS.

I merely came to ascertain what is called knowledge from thee. That is all!

POLYKRATES.

Come now, I have not time to waste on this senseless conversation that shall lead to nowhere!

PROMETHEUS.

Then am I to think that a money changer such as thyself hath no real knowledge whatsoever?

POLYKRATES.

Knowledge, I have a lot of knowledge, but little time and patience to spare.

PROMETHEUS.

What is thy knowledge?

POLYKRATES.

I have the great knowledge to count money and remember numerals effectively.

PROMETHEUS.

Nay! That is not knowledge, but a talent.

POLYKRATES.

I know how the economy and the market function well in Athens.

PROMETHEUS.

Then tell me, what is the universal truth to thee?

POLYKRATES.

The universal truth? I have not heard it mentioned. But if thou must know, to me, ’tis the truth found only in these drachmas and minae I hold in mine hands that reveal the ways of quotidian commerce. That is mine universal truth.

PROMETHEUS.

But is that all that the universal truth signifieth to thee?

POLYKRATES.

Is it not sufficient enough for thee? For me, ’tis the only truth that is important in this society and world.

PROMETHEUS.

That is thy truth only? Is it not?

POLYKRATES.

The truth is, without money a poor man shall remain poor, whilst a rich man shall become rich every time.

PROMETHEUS.

If I may interject, my good money changer, if I understand the premise of that truth, then I shall be condemned to abstract poverty whilst thou shalt be an opulent man.

POLYKRATES.

I believe that shall be the case!

PROMETHEUS.

However, thou hast failed to reveal the fact that I may become poor compared to thee, yet, when we both die, our flesh shall rot and our bones decay into ashes eventually. Now tell me, my good money changer. What good is it to have money and opulence, if that money thou hast in thine hands shall not accompany thee beyond thy death? Dost thou not see the contradiction in thy words?

POLYKRATES.

True, but I shall prefer to die rich than poor, strange fellow. Anyways, ’tis thou that asked me about this universal truth in the first place?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed! I go now, knowing the universal truth to a money changer. Thereafter, I must seek the universal truth from a poet.

SCENE IV.

At the Lyceum in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus has come to converse with his dear friend Demotimos, about the universal truth.

DEMOTIMOS.

Prometheus, I was not expecting to see thee so soon. Art thou still in search of that universal truth to thy destiny? Did not the sage Persephone apprise thee of its introduction and illusive nature?

PROMETHEUS.

He told me that I must ask men of distinctive occupations what they believe to be the universal truth. I have enquired of the money changer, but his universal truth is about the greed of money.

DEMOTIMOS.

What exactly dost thou want to know from me that shall serve thy purpose?

PROMETHEUS.

What kind of knowledge dost thou have that is relevant?

DEMOTIMOS.

I am a marvellous poet, with a unique knowledge that few persons possess in our society.

PROMETHEUS.

What is that particular knowledge, my friend?

DEMOTIMOS.

I was born with the extraordinary gift of language and the masterful eloquence of poetry that few men can declare.

PROMETHEUS.

However, that is not knowledge. That is a talent!

DEMOTIMOS.

Talent ’tis, but we as poets have the knowledge of the quill that hath captivated men for centuries.

PROMETHEUS.

Then, what is the universal truth to thee?

DEMOTIMOS.

The universal truth, if thou must know, is found in the eloquent stanzas of the poetry I write and recite. That is mine universal truth, my friend.

PROMETHEUS.

Surely, thou must know that poetry is an expression of mere words. What truth could be discovered in the stanzas of a poem that define knowledge, my good friend?

DEMOTIMOS.

Thou art a poet and know that poetry is the essence of the beauty of our dialogues. I would prefer to recite a thousand poems than to die an ignoramus in this world.

PROMETHEUS.

But the words of poetry shall not serve thee when thou art dead, besides, what good is it to be a poet, if poetry is but words that carry no substance of the truth? I mean, why do we recite poetry that is no more than the reflection of our own selfish desires and sorrows only?

DEMOTIMOS.

No substance? That is not accurate. I would not call my desires and sorrows selfish, and my words bear memorable substance to mine audience.

PROMETHEUS.

Do they carry more weight than the words of the philosophers or the politicians? I have not met a ruler who is a poet. Therefore, thy knowledge is not the universal truth I seek, my friend!

DEMOTIMOS.

Then, wherefore did thou waste my time with thine enquiry knowing the nature of my character?

PROMETHEUS.

Forgive me, my friend, but I was told by the philosopher Persephone to ask men of distinction what is the universal truth, so that I may find my fate.

DEMOTIMOS.

I have revealed to thee what mine universal truth is. Now, I must continue with the recital of my poetry. Therefore, thou shalt have to be content with what I have disclosed to thee already.

PROMETHEUS.

Ye poets are always lost in thy vision of a utopian world in the universe. I shall go forthwith and speak to the artisan about the matter. Surely, he must know something of knowledge that would be germane to my search.

SCENE V.

At the corner of one of the main streets of Athens.

Prometheus addresses a local artisan, who is constructing a wooden chest. The name of the artisan is Aristion.

PROMETHEUS.

Forgive me, kind sir. Thou art an artisan, if I am not mistaken in my description?

ARISTION.

I am an artisan! What can I make for thee? Dost thou desire a wooden chest to be made?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay! I do not need a wooden chest to be made.

ARISTION.

Then, what dost thou seek at this moment that I might be of service to thee?

PROMETHEUS.

What I merely seek is the universal truth. But I came to learn of thy knowledge in particular.

ARISTION.

What universal truth? I have never before heard any utterance or mention of such a strange thing.

PROMETHEUS.

I do not quite know its actual meaning. But I was told by a wise man that I might find it by enquiring into the knowledge of others.

ARISTION.

Knowledge? Thou dost want to know what an artisan like myself would know?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed! I am here because thou must surely have some worthy knowledge to reveal to me that I might learn and ponder its pertinence.

ARISTION.

I do not know if what I have as knowledge is truly worthy. But, if thou must know, I know how to build things from nothing and create wondrous art that I profit from afterwards. I am a sculptor, carpenter, coin maker, and more. All that is built by hand I master with mine own skill.

PROMETHEUS.

I fear that is not knowledge, but talent. Dost thou not possess any knowledge beyond these skills?

ARISTION.

Of course! I have the knowledge that a man needeth to build anything from nothing. Is that not sufficient knowledge?

PROMETHEUS.

Then, what is the universal truth to thee?

ARISTION.

The only truth that is important to me is the use of mine hands to build, and the objects I create which men reward me for, in the form of money.

PROMETHEUS.

Dost thou not believe that the world is more than building and creating things and being handsomely rewarded?

ARISTION.

Perhaps! However, for me ’tis what rewards the constant needs of my family.

PROMETHEUS.

Life must be more than building and creating things from which only men profit by their toil.

ARISTION.

’Tis enough for me! I can think of no better thing than to labour for profit.

PROMETHEUS.

But what of the quest for knowledge? Dost thou not wish to know more of life and the world beyond thy trade or toil?

ARISTION.

Since I am not a politician, poet, or philosopher, wherefore should I indulge myself in the knowledge of others that doth not serve my purpose or needs?

PROMETHEUS.

Because there is still so much of this world and the universe unknown to discover and reveal, and we have barely begun to understand its salient function.

ACT II

SCENE I

At the oracle in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus visits the oracle and speaks to an astronomer, by the name of Phillippos.

PROMETHEUS.

Art thou an astronomer?

PHILLIPPOS.

Indeed! And who art thou, that I know not thy countenance?

PROMETHEUS.

I am Prometheus of Thebes.

PHILLIPPOS.

Is something weighing upon thy thoughts?

PROMETHEUS.

I seem to be on a quest for the universal truth, to discover mine own fate. That is chiefly why I seek the knowledge of others.

PHILLIPPOS.

What dost thou mean by universal truth?

PROMETHEUS.

The truth that is universal and understood by all — or so I believe, in definition.

PHILLIPPOS.

If thou askest what knowledge I possess, then I shall say this: I know how to observe the countless stars in the heavens, and to discern the difference between the distance of the moon and the sun. I can also predict the movements and alignments of the planets within the cosmos.

PROMETHEUS.

That may seem like knowledge, yet it is more a matter of refined skill.

PHILLIPPOS.

True, yet I know these things because I can observe or deduce them plainly.

PROMETHEUS.

If thou art thus knowledgeable, then what is universal truth to thee?

PHILLIPPOS.

To me, the only truth that beareth weight is the vast universe itself — that which is existential.

PROMETHEUS.

If the universe is indeed vast, then what canst thou tell me of mine own existence?

PHILLIPPOS.

I can tell thee, young man, that thy being is bound to the relativity of the cosmos and its eternal evolution.

PROMETHEUS.

Let us say for the sake of discourse that this be true — what knowledge, then, can I gain from such truth?

PHILLIPPOS.

Perhaps the better question is: what is the difference between good and poor knowledge?

PROMETHEUS.

Or rather, between substantial and superficial knowledge?

PHILLIPPOS.

Indeed!

PROMETHEUS.

Then what can be truly learnt from thy knowledge?

PHILLIPPOS.

Only thou shalt discover that answer in time, Theban. But know this: any established truth must always be universal, and tied to the relevance of the cosmos — which is boundless and eternal in its nature and composition.

SCENE II

At the Agora in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus approaches a soldier, named Xanthos, and converses with him.

PROMETHEUS.

Pardon me! Art thou a soldier? I judge by thy garb and armaments.

XANTHOS.

Aye! And who art thou that askest?

PROMETHEUS.

I am a philosopher, and I wish to know what knowledge thou holdest.

XANTHOS.

A philosopher! And what interest hast thou in the knowledge of a soldier?

PROMETHEUS.

I mean not to intrude with my questions. If thou must know, I am on a quest for the universal truth — to better understand mine own destiny.

XANTHOS.

Universal truth, thou sayest? I know not what that may be, nor what it containeth.

PROMETHEUS.

Surely, thou possessest some knowledge of great worth.

XANTHOS.

I have but the necessary knowledge of a common soldier.

PROMETHEUS.

What knowledge is that, good sir?

XANTHOS.

I know the art of warfare — how to wield a sword and throw a spear to strike down mine enemies upon the battlefield.

PROMETHEUS.

That is courage and skill. Yet still, it is not knowledge in the truest sense.

XANTHOS.

Call it what thou wilt — it is what a soldier must know to survive and defend himself.

PROMETHEUS.

Granted — but what other knowledge dost thou possess that may be considered universal?

XANTHOS.

To me, what is universal are the battles I fight and the victories I claim. That is all that truly mattereth.

PROMETHEUS.

There must be more to knowledge than conquest. Some truth must lie beyond the sword and shield.

XANTHOS.

If there is, thou shalt not find it in me.

PROMETHEUS.

Perhaps a politician might speak of the universal truth with more clarity.

XANTHOS.

Thou shalt not like what the politician sayeth.

PROMETHEUS.

Wherefore?

XANTHOS.

Because his truth is the most corrupted of all truths known to man. Mark my words — here in Athens, power is a mighty thing to wield, and if thou hast it, thou canst rule with impunity.

PROMETHEUS.

And what of democracy?

XANTHOS.

Democracy is the ideal dream of poets and philosophers. Yet few politicians honour its true value — for once power taketh hold, it corrupteth blindly.

SCENE III

At the Symposium in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus meets a politician outside the Symposium. He confronts him regarding his knowledge, unaware of the perilous nature of his discourse. The politician’s name is Mikrion. Unbeknownst to Prometheus, Mikrion is a powerful statesman.

PROMETHEUS.

I do not mean to interpose with mine own presence, sir, but I must needs settle a certain curiosity. Art thou a politician?

MIKRION.

A politician or a statesman, if thou must. Yet I prefer the title of Senator. Who art thou?

PROMETHEUS.

I am a poet and philosopher, and my name is Prometheus.

MIKRION.

Where art thou from? Judging by thy parlance, thou art not Athenian.

PROMETHEUS.

If thou must know, I hail from Thebes.

MIKRION.

A Theban— the worst kind of enemy. Tell me then, why should I trust aught that proceedeth from thy lips?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed, I am Theban. Yet I have naught to conceal from thee!

MIKRION.

Then what hath brought thee to Athens, Theban?

PROMETHEUS.

I am embarked upon a quest — though a quest unlike any other.

MIKRION.

What manner of quest, Theban?

PROMETHEUS.

I seek the eternal universal truth.

MIKRION.

And what is this universal truth that thou pursuest?

PROMETHEUS.

That is precisely why I seek thy counsel, politician. Surely a man of thy station possesseth greater knowledge than a money changer, an artisan, an astronomer, a soldier — or even a poet.

MIKRION.

'Tis true, for the knowledge I wield exceedeth that of those lesser men.

PROMETHEUS.

Then speak, good politician — what knowledge dost thou claim as thine own?

MIKRION.

Thou meanest to ask what it is that I know?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed!

MIKRION.

Then I shall answer thus: I know how to govern with authority and with words that only men of power may utter and command with mastery.

PROMETHEUS.

That is not true knowledge — but an art of imposition.

MIKRION.

Call it talent or call it knowledge, it mattereth not. The only thing of importance is the power I hold within the Senate.

PROMETHEUS.

Then tell me, good Senator — what is the universal truth to thee?

MIKRION.

The universal truth is naught but the power I command, both in Senate and city. That is my universal truth, inquisitive Theban. Art thou perchance a follower of Socrates?

PROMETHEUS.

I have heard his name — yet, alas, I have never met the man.

MIKRION.

Then hear this warning, and heed it well: follow not in the footsteps of Socrates. The gods shall not be merciful. Beware their judgement and decree.

PROMETHEUS.

I mean not to provoke the gods, yet until I uncover the universal truth, I must defer to the notion that the gods themselves are the arbiters of enquiry.

MIKRION.

Remember this: they are the divine bearers of all knowledge. Defame them not with thine insolence!

PROMETHEUS.

I have no intention to defame any — least of all the gods!

SCENE IV

At the phrontistery in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus returns to the phrontistery, where the philosopher Persephone is imparting his teachings. Prometheus reveals what he has discovered through his inquiries.

PERSEPHONE.

Prometheus, thou hast returned.

PROMETHEUS.

Aye, master — I have returned in haste.

PERSEPHONE.

What hast thou uncovered in thy pursuit?

PROMETHEUS.

I believe I have discovered many things — yet I remain baffled by the candour of these men and their so-called knowledge.

PERSEPHONE.

What dost thou imply?

PROMETHEUS.

Perhaps ’tis better I speak plainly, that thou mayest understand my meaning.

PERSEPHONE.

Pray, proceed. I am most eager to hear what thou hast uncovered.

PROMETHEUS.

I have learnt this: to the money changer, the universal truth is the custom of daily commerce. To the poet, it is found in the stanzas of verse. To the artisan, it is the profit in the object fashioned. To the astronomer, it is the vast and existential cosmos. To the soldier, it is battle fought and victory claimed. And to the politician, the universal truth is power and control.

PERSEPHONE.

Then, what hast thou gleaned from these truths?

PROMETHEUS.

Little, I fear. For what I have witnessed are their talents, not their knowledge. Surely, I must have failed to perceive something in their revelations.

PERSEPHONE.

What revelations dost thou speak of, precisely?

PROMETHEUS.

Frankly... I know not.

PERSEPHONE.

If thou hast not discovered the universal truth amongst these men, then I would bid thee become my pupil — a student of philosophy.

PROMETHEUS.

If that is the path by which I might reach the knowledge of the universal truth, then I shall gladly become thy student.

PERSEPHONE.

I must forewarn thee — thou shalt have to bear a heavy burden in thy search. Know this: without knowledge, thou canst not grasp even the shadow of truth.

PROMETHEUS.

What dost thou mean by heavy burden?

PERSEPHONE.

I mean to say that the path to truth shall not be easily trodden.

PROMETHEUS.

If that be the case, then I am both willing and ready to embrace the challenge.

PERSEPHONE.

Now that thou hast chosen the way of wisdom, thou must prepare thyself for a long and arduous journey.

PROMETHEUS.

What must I do to prepare?

PERSEPHONE.

Thou must seek the path of enlightenment.

PROMETHEUS.

And how shall I find that path? Where doth enlightenment begin?

PERSEPHONE.

Thou shalt begin it now — from this very moment in time.

SCENE V.

At the centre of the Agora in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus is with his friend Demotimos, discussing his quest for knowledge.

DEMOTIMOS.

Prometheus, what hast thou discovered in thy quest for knowledge?

PROMETHEUS.

What I know is that I have discovered practically nothing!

DEMOTIMOS.

Why dost thou say that, my good friend?

PROMETHEUS.

I have learnt nought, and moreover, the universal truth I seek hath still eluded my comprehension.

DEMOTIMOS.

As a fellow poet, may I suggest that thou employ the acumen of the intellect?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed! Perhaps there is more to be developed within me—such as within my mind.

DEMOTIMOS.

The intellectual mind is always relevant to knowledge, but it would depend on what that knowledge is. Is that not so?

PROMETHEUS.

True! I wonder if I shall ever find this universal truth here in Athens—or anywhere else, for that matter.

DEMOTIMOS.

I wonder myself, is it not better to remain a poet than attempt to find something that only a true philosopher would discover in time? I would find my time wasted on such a tedious task.

PROMETHEUS.

Art thou suggesting that I remain a poet and abandon my philosophical pursuit—for the universal truth, and for my destiny?

DEMOTIMOS.

I know it would be better to be a sage than a mere poet, but thou art searching for a certain knowledge that only a true philosopher can answer—with scholarly ability.

PROMETHEUS.

But how would I know that such knowledge is truthful?

DEMOTIMOS.

I suppose only thou canst answer that question, in the quiet of thine own reflection.

PROMETHEUS.

If I became a philosopher, what might I expect?

DEMOTIMOS.

Surely, thou art aware of the unique world of the philosophers?

PROMETHEUS.

I am—to a certain degree.

DEMOTIMOS.

I believe thou wouldst enjoy an intellectual discourse with some of my philosophical friends, who are students of the great scholar Persephone.

PROMETHEUS.

The thought of such intellectual conversation is most fascinating.

DEMOTIMOS.

Then why dost thou not join me this evening at mine abode?

PROMETHEUS.

I shall be most willing to join thee and the others tonight.

ACT III

SCENE I.

At the home of Demotimos in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus arrives at the residence of his good friend Demotimos, where he is greeted by other guests—students of philosophy—such as Nichomachos, Sophoklos, and Hediste.

DEMOTIMOS.

Welcome to my home, Prometheus. I am glad that thou didst accept my kind invitation.

PROMETHEUS.

I could not reject thy gracious hospitality. Besides, I am eager indeed to converse with thy esteemed guests.

DEMOTIMOS.

Naturally. Then allow me to introduce thee to them. These are my friends Nichomachos, Sophoklos, and the lovely Hediste.

NICHOMACHOS.

Thou art from Thebes—and a poet, I am told?

PROMETHEUS.

Aye.

SOPHOKLOS.

I have not met a Theban poet before. Art thou of any noble lineage?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay. I shall tell thee honestly—my father was an established poet, and my mother the daughter of a reputable merchant.

HEDISTE.

I have heard that thou art on a quest for the knowledge known as universal truth. Is that a fair assumption?

PROMETHEUS.

If I must be candid, my fair lady, then yes—that is so.

HEDISTE.

Why so? And what is this universal truth that thou seekest?

DEMOTIMOS.

Indeed, I too have asked my good friend the same question.

PROMETHEUS.

I wish I had the answer, but as yet—I do not.

HEDISTE.

If thou seekest this universal truth, thou must first determine its essence.

PROMETHEUS.

That is indeed a rational conclusion!

NICHOMACHOS.

I was once told by a philosopher that in order to understand anything, one must first discover one’s own identity.

SOPHOKLOS.

Aye, I too have heard such a saying.

DEMOTIMOS.

I can think of nought better for discovering oneself than discovering the leisure of pleasure.

PROMETHEUS.

But what knowledge can I acquire through leisure?

DEMOTIMOS.

Pleasure is a natural gift bestowed by the gods—Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, Cronus, Uranus, Hephaestus. We Athenians, unlike you Thebans, recite poetry and are skilled orators. I much prefer the marvels of Anacreon to the tedium of Homer. Moreover, we feast on fruits, raisins, pomegranates, roasted hare—and we drink wine in the hours of leisure. What more could an Athenian desire?

NICHOMACHOS.

Surely thou knowest that not all Athenians are so fortunate as to indulge in leisure?

DEMOTIMOS.

If thou referrest to the poor slave, then save thy breath for piety.

NICHOMACHOS.

I meant the slave, yes—but the unprivileged citizens of Athens also.

PROMETHEUS.

But what good is pleasure if there be no knowledge to be gained from it?

HEDISTE.

First, thou must realise: one is acquired, the other—a benefit.

DEMOTIMOS.

I would not exaggerate its importance. Even Socrates and Plato partook of pleasure and company.

SCENE II.

At the phrontistery (school of thought) in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus revisits the philosopher Persephone to discuss his continued failure to uncover the universal truth.

PERSEPHONE.

Prometheus! Why hast thou returned so swiftly? Hast thou discovered the universal truth?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay. I have not yet found it.

PERSEPHONE.

There is much to be learnt in philosophy, Prometheus.

PROMETHEUS.

That is why I am here in Athens—to acquire knowledge from the Athenians. But I have found few who possess knowledge from which I might benefit in practice.

PERSEPHONE.

Many men of philosophy have undertaken the quest for knowledge—such as Prodicus of Ceos, Gorgias of Leontini, Evenus of Paros, Hippias of Elis, and Socrates of Athens.

PROMETHEUS.

But did any of them discover the universal truth?

PERSEPHONE.

That only they knew. But know this: philosophy itself is knowledge.

PROMETHEUS.

Still, I am troubled. I have not yet found the universal truth.

PERSEPHONE.

As I told thee before—thy search hath only just begun.

PROMETHEUS.

I have wandered all over this city, yet I know not where to seek the knowledge necessary to find either the universal truth or the course of my destiny.

PERSEPHONE.

Perhaps thou hast not been searching in the right place.

PROMETHEUS.

Why dost thou say that?

PERSEPHONE.

Philosophy teacheth us that human beings must first discover the oneness within themselves—their ipseity.

PROMETHEUS.

How do I find this oneness—this ipseity?

PERSEPHONE.

In philosophy, we learn the true meaning of oneness or ipseity through the practice of virtue.

PROMETHEUS.

And what is virtue?

PERSEPHONE.

It is a fascinating thing, yet few men have understood its worth.

PROMETHEUS.

Where shall I find its significance?

PERSEPHONE.

To find virtue, thou must search elsewhere. But take great care, Prometheus. Many men proclaim to know virtue—but practise it not.

PROMETHEUS.

Who are these men of whom thou speakest? Tell me their names.

PERSEPHONE.

I may only warn thee of their presence—and advise thee to beware the pretender who speaketh wisdom but heedeth it not.

SCENE III

At the centre of the Agora in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus is walking with Demotimos, when he is confronted by the politician Mikrion.

MIKRION.

I see thou hast returned to the Agora, Theban. Hast thou come to corrupt the citizens with thy foolishness?

PROMETHEUS.

By Zeus! What corruption dost thou accuse me of committing?

MIKRION.

The very crime for which Socrates was accused and executed.

PROMETHEUS.

I fail to perceive the point of thine argument.

MIKRION.

Perhaps I should accentuate my point, that it may convince thee more thoroughly.

DEMOTIMOS.

Forgive him, Senator! He is not an Athenian; therefore, he doth not know the laws of the city, nor how they function.

MIKRION.

Naturally. Yet this doth not excuse his poor behaviour in the public domain.

PROMETHEUS.

I beg to differ! What crime have I committed that merits such false accusation?

MIKRION.

I warn thee of the consequences of thine actions. I see that thou hast not heeded my previous warning.

PROMETHEUS.

If I have committed no corruption, then wherefore must I defend myself? Once more, I ask—whom have I corrupted?

MIKRION.

The citizens of Athens, who require not senseless philosophers to influence their beliefs and destroy their traditions.

DEMOTIMOS.

Surely, thou must take into strong consideration the fact that my noble friend is not accustomed to our Athenian ways and laws.

MIKRION.

If that be the case, am I to assume that thy friend shall henceforth cease his activity and admit his naivety?

PROMETHEUS.

Art thou willing, then, to admit thine own ignorance?

MIKRION.

Brash and daring thou art, to impose thy foolish hubris. Hast thou forgotten I am a powerful politician within Athenian society?

DEMOTIMOS.

Senator, allow me to escort my friend to my home. I assure thee his stay in the city shall be brief, and he shall no longer infringe upon the law.

MIKRION.

If he agreeth to cease his corrupted ways and activity.

PROMETHEUS.

If I concede to that notion, I must then acknowledge my supposed naivety.

MIKRION.

Is it not better, Theban, to do so than to face the full severity of Athenian justice? The choice is thine! Which shall it be?

PROMETHEUS.

What I choose is solely mine to determine—and when I choose, I shall face the consequences.

MIKRION.

Do not be foolish like Socrates! Thou art young! Do not allow thy vulgar youth to display thy ignorance and poor judgement.

SCENE IV

At the home of Demotimos in Athens, Greece.

Demotimos urges his Theban friend to leave Athens or disengage from his pursuit of universal truth and destiny.

DEMOTIMOS.

Truly, I implore thee, Prometheus—return to Thebes ere thou art apprehended.

PROMETHEUS.

I do not fear apprehension. I have not yet completed my quest.

DEMOTIMOS.

Thou art aware of the consequences of that decision?

PROMETHEUS.

Indeed, I am.

DEMOTIMOS.

Then what is thy position?

PROMETHEUS.

I shall leave Athens forthwith, but not of mine own desire. Rather, I wish not to bring upon thee or others any difficulty or unnecessary predicament due to my association with thee.

DEMOTIMOS.

'Tis regretful that thou must depart in such a manner—but it is for the best, at least until the tyranny against philosophers hath passed.

PROMETHEUS.

True. Yet it is not of my own conviction, for I have committed no grievous crime.

DEMOTIMOS.

Is it not preferable to be a poet in our Greek society than to be a wise philosopher or sage?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay! 'Tis cruel to imagine forsaking one's principles.

DEMOTIMOS.

I would have warned thee myself of the tyranny of our politicians, yet I did not anticipate thy persistence.

PROMETHEUS.

Nor did I consider the consequence of a mere enquiry on my part.

DEMOTIMOS.

I fear thy quest for universal truth is now viewed as controversial in Athenian society. Alas, we have only Socrates and Plato to blame for this propagation of philosophy.

PROMETHEUS.

I detest such a prosaic notion of mankind—to impose their doctrines upon the citizens, who possess no voice in the matter.

DEMOTIMOS.

I admire thy perspective, Prometheus, yet what use is analysis of that which is embedded within our society?

PROMETHEUS.

Is not change a virtue when it betters society—including thine?

DEMOTIMOS.

Our society is, indeed, ideological. It is what we have chosen over many decades.

PROMETHEUS.

But what advanced knowledge hath this system of governance brought forth?

DEMOTIMOS.

I suppose thou speakest with some truth—yet 'tis the only system I have ever known.

PROMETHEUS.

Then I pity thee, O proud Athenians. I cannot fathom a society built upon such erroneous principles.

SCENE V

At the home of Persephone the philosopher in Athens, Greece.

Prometheus visits the sage to announce his immediate departure. But he learns that Persephone has been arrested by the politician Mikrion, on the charge of corrupting the youth. He then confronts Mikrion, who is alone in the Agora.

PROMETHEUS.

Mikrion, wherefore hast thou arrested the philosopher Persephone?

MIKRION.

Theban, I thought thou hast departed the city of Athens.

PROMETHEUS.

I had indeed planned my departure—but that was ere I was informed of the swift apprehension of the philosopher.

MIKRION.

What troubling concern is this to thee, Theban, since it doth not concern thee in the first place?

PROMETHEUS.

To witness the arrest of an innocent man is a grave travesty of justice.

MIKRION.

Art thou cognisant of thy poignant words?

PROMETHEUS.

I am—and I shall not retract them.

MIKRION.

A feisty man art thou, Theban—or am I mistaken in mine assumption?

PROMETHEUS.

I am indeed feisty—but is that a crime under Athenian law?

MIKRION.

Nay, ’tis not a crime. However, corrupting the youth is!

PROMETHEUS.

And what dost thou mean by corrupting the youth?

MIKRION.

Simple: anyone who influences the youth with non-Athenian ways of thinking and behaviour is guilty of this intolerable offence.

PROMETHEUS.

Who hath made these false accusations?

MIKRION.

There is no need for a claim to be made to justify the charge.

PROMETHEUS.

Then according to thee, the old philosopher is a threat to Athenian society and hath violated the law—yet no man hath accused him of any crime whatsoever?

MIKRION.

And what of that?

PROMETHEUS.

Is he not an Athenian—and a member of Athenian society?

MIKRION.

Aye, he is.

PROMETHEUS.

Then speak I not unjustly when I say that, under Athenian law, he—being Athenian—hath the right to defend himself?

MIKRION.

True! But thou art no politician. May I strongly advise thee not to doubt mine authority?

PROMETHEUS.

I do not doubt thy authority. I am merely enquiring, Senator.

MIKRION.

Remember thy place, Theban—for I shall not be so merciful with thee again.

PROMETHEUS.

Art thou going to arrest me? And if so, on what charge?

MIKRION.

Art thou daring me to arrest thee, Theban?

PROMETHEUS.

Nay. All that I request is a gesture of humility and compassion. Is that too much to ask—from a powerful Senator?

MIKRION.

Humility and compassion, Theban, do not get one far in this world. Remember well—there is a clear distinction between a powerful man and a powerless one. Now, tell me: which of us is the powerful, and which the powerless, at this moment

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