tale again, Prometheus consents to tell it. He tells how war arose in heaven, how he had helped Zeus to the throne, and joined him in the overthrow of his own brother Titans. The ingratitude of Zeus suggests a remark which was welcome to Athenian ears—a remark in disparagement of despotism,—
"For somehow this disease in sovereignty
Inheres, of never trusting to one's friends."
For when Zeus set his kingdom in order he entirely neglected the wellbeing of mankind, and even designed utterly to obliterate the race. "And I only," says Prometheus, "dared to cross his will, and my present plight is the result." After a few words of sincere sympathy from the Chorus, Prometheus goes on to describe the steps by which he had improved the condition of mortals. Especially he gave them blind hopes, to keep them from dwelling on their fate, and Fire, the mother of all arts. This is his only sin; for this is laid on him a punishment which can have no end except by the will of Zeus. The Chorus would urge him to leave off regrets and seek some remedy for his trouble; but he tells them that the consequences of his act were all well known to him, and that he did it all advisedly. He begs them to descend from their airy place and listen to the rest of his story. So they quickly alight upon the stage, form into rank, and walk down to the orchestra, chanting as they go the words,—
"Not to unwilling hearers hast thou uttered,
Prometheus, thy request.
