98 AESCHYLUS
/dared it ! /drew mortals back to light,
From meditated ruin deep as hell !
For which wrong I am bent down in these pangs 28β
Dreadful to suffer, mournful to behold.
And I who pitied man am thought myself
Unworthy of pity ; while I render out
Deep rhythms of anguish 'neath the harping hand
That strikes me thus, — a sight to shame your Zeus ! 285
Chorus. Hard as thy chains, and cold as all these rocks. Is he, Prometheus, who withholds his heart From joining in thy woe. I yearned before To fly this sight ; and, now I gaze on it, I sicken inwards.
Pi'ojnetheus. To my friends, indeed, 290
I must be a sad sight.
Chorus. And didst thou sin
No more than so?
Prometheus. I did restrain besides
My mortals from premeditating death.
Chorus. How didst thou medicine the plague-fear of death?
Prometheus. I set blind Hopes to inhabit in their house. 295
Chorus. By that gift thou didst help thy mortals well.
Prometheus. I gave them also fire.
Chorus. And have they now,
Those creatures of a day, the red-eyed fire ?
Prometheus. They have, and shall learn by it many arts.
Chorus. And truly for such sins Zeus tortures thee, And will remit no anguish ? Is there set m
No limit before thee to thine agony ?