From sinking blasted down to Hades' gloom.
For this by these dire tortures I am bent,
Grievous to suffer, piteous to behold.
I who did mortals pity, of like grace
Am deem'd unworthy,—but am grimly thus
Tuned to his will, a sight of shame to Zeus.
Chorus.
Iron of heart, ay, fashion'd out of rock 250
Who at thy pangs thine anger shareth not,
Prometheus; for myself, fain had I shunned
This sight;—beholding it, my heart is wrung.
Prometheus.
To friends, in sooth, a spectacle of woe.
Chorus.
But beyond this didst haply aught essay?
Prometheus.
Mortals I hindered from foreseeing death.
Chorus.
Finding what medicine for this disease?
Prometheus.
Blind hopes I caused within their hearts to dwell.
Chorus.
Vast boon was this thou gavest unto mortals.
Prometheus.
Yea, and besides 'twas I that gave them fire. 260
