“Noble Prometheus,” said Hephaestus, “it pains my soul to lend my skill to such a deed as this. What wretchedness awaits thee! Thousands of years must pass and no end to thy suffering! Never wilt thou have sight of one human being to comfort thee. The strength of thy limbs will wane in the heat of the sun and longingly thou wilt yearn for the star-sown night to cover thee with its mantle and bring coolness to thy burning wounds.” Thereupon Hephaestus and the two servants of Zeus left the fettered one, who cried out: “Thou sacred sky! Ye swift-winged winds! Thou billowy thundering ocean! Earth, thou all-giver! Sun, thou all-seer, I cry to you. Behold the fate which has overtaken me, a deity. By the decree of the ruler of all I must endure constant bitter pain a thousand years. But I will submit to the decree, knowing that the power of fate is irresistible.” His groans were heard by the winged Oceanides in the crystalline grotto of their father, Oceanus.[5] They hurried to him and when they witnessed the fate of the son of Titan, they filled the air with lamentation. Sorrowfully they turned away. Soon appeared their father, the gray Oceanus, upon his winged sea horse, inquiring what Prometheus had done that he should be exposed to such a dreadful penalty. When he was told, he promised Prometheus to entreat mercy from Zeus. But Prometheus admonished him, saying: “Well I know you have always been my friend, worthy Oceanus, but I pray you do not appeal to Zeus for me. It would avail me nothing and only prejudice Zeus against you.” Concealing his deep grief in his heart, Oceanus left the tortured one. A long time passed. Zeus, believing that the Titan’s obstinate spirit had been broken, sent his winged messenger, Hermes, to him, who said: “Zeus desires to know what you heard from your brother about that marriage which, if he enters into it, will some time precipitate his ruin. You know it and have found how severely he punishes the theft of the fire. So anger him no longer, but tell him what he wishes to know.” Prometheus replied: “Never shall Zeus know what he desires to learn until I am freed from my fetters and relieved of my torments.” Hermes returned to the ruler of the skies and told him that Prometheus, in spite of his unspeakable torments, still remained obstinate. Zeus stormed wrathfully and decided to subject his victim to still more dreadful punishment. All at once black clouds gathered over Caucasus, fiery thunderbolts, hurled by his hand, shook the lofty jagged cliffs, and the roar of the hurricane filled all the space between the sky and earth. “Wrathful, implacable deity,” cried Prometheus, “I know this is the manifestation of thy power, but thou canst not move me.”