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Prometheus.
I gave to them blind hopes to dwell with them.
Chorus.
Thou gavest mortals a rare help in that! 275 (259)
Prometheus.
But furthermore 'twas I that gave them fire.
Chorus.
And have these creatures of a day live fire?
Prometheus.
Yea, and with it shall master many arts.
Chorus.
Are these indeed the charges on which Zeus
Thus persecutes thee and will nought abate 280 (264)
Thy woes? And is there no term set thy pain?
Prometheus.
None else, in sooth, than when it fits his whim,
Chorus.
Say how were that? What hope? Dost thou not see
That thou hast sinned? But in what way hast sinned
