Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/422

352 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.

Iron of heart, ay, fashion'd out of rock

Who at thy pangs thine anger shareth not,

Prometheus; for myself, fain had I shunned

This sight;—beholding it, my heart is wrung.

To friends, in sooth, a spectacle of woe.

But beyond this didst haply aught essay?

Mortals I hindered from foreseeing death.

Finding what medicine for this disease?

Blind hopes I caused within their hearts to dwell.

Vast boon was this thou gavest unto mortals.

Yea, and besides 'twas I that gave them fire.