Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/17

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PROMETHEUS BOUND.
11

Strength. Why, if I wept, it were no remedy!
And do not thou spend labor on the air
To bootless uses.

Hephæstus. Cursed handicraft!
I curse and hate thee, O my craft!

Strength. Why hate
Thy craft, most plainly innocent of all
These pending ills?

Hephæstus. I would some other hand
Were here to work it!

Strength. All work hath its pain,
Except to rule the gods. There is none free
Except King Zeus.

Hephæstus. I know it very well:
I argue not against it.

Strength. Why not, then,
Make haste, and bind the fetters over him,
Lest Zeus behold thee lagging.

Hephæstus. Here be chains—
Zeus may behold these.

Strength. Seize him,—strike amain!
Strike with the hammer on each side his bands—
Rivet him to the rock.

Hephæstus. The work is done,
And thoroughly done.

Strength. Still faster grapple him,—
Wedge him in deeper,—leave no inch to stir!
He's terrible for finding a way out
Where others could not.

Hephæstus. Here's an arm, at least,
Grappled past freeing.

Strength. Now, then, clench along
The other strongly. Let the sophist learn
He's duller than our Zeus.