Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/425

Rh Spectator of my pangs? How hast thou dared

Quitting thy namesake flood, thy rock-roof'd caves

Self-wrought, this iron-teeming land to reach?

Art come indeed to gaze upon my doom,

And with my grievous woes to sympathize?

A spectacle behold;—this friend of Zeus,

This co-appointer of his sovereignty,

By what dire anguish I by him am bow'd.

I see, Prometheus, and would fain to thee,

All subtle as thou art, best counsel give;

Know thine own self, thy manners mould anew,

For new the monarch who now rules the gods;

But if thou thus harsh, keenly-whetted words

Still hurlest, Zeus, though thron'd so far aloft,

Mayhap may hear thee, so the pangs which now

His wrath inflicts but childish sport may seem.

But come, O much enduring, quell thy rage;

Seek thou releasement from these miseries;

Stale may appear to thee the words I speak;

Yet such the penalty that waits, Prometheus,

On a too haughty tongue; But thou, e'en now

Nowise art humbled, nor dost yield to ills,

But to the present wouldest add new woe;

Therefore, I charge thee, hearkening my rede,

Kick not against the pricks, since harsh the king

Who now holds sway, accountable to none.

And now I go and will forthwith essay

If I avail to free thee from these toils.