_Chor._ I see it, O Prometheus, and a mist Of fear and full of tears comes o'er mine eyes, Thy frame beholding thus, Writhing on these high rocks 150 In adamantine ills. New pilots now o'er high Olympos rule, And with new-fashioned laws Zeus reigns, down-trampling right, And all the ancient powers He sweeps away. _Prom._ Ah! would that 'neath the Earth, 'neath Hades too, Home of the dead, far down to Tartaros 160 Unfathomable He in fetters fast In wrath had hurled me down: So neither had a God Nor any other mocked at these my woes; But now, the wretched plaything of the winds, I suffer ills at which my foes rejoice. _Chor._ Nay, which of all the Gods Is so hard-hearted as to joy in this? Who, Zeus excepted, doth not pity thee In these thine ills? But He, Ruthless, with soul unbent, Subdues the heavenly host, nor will He cease[148] 170 Until his heart be satiate with power, Or some one seize with subtle stratagem The sovran might that so resistless seemed. _Prom._ Nay, of a truth, though put to evil shame, In massive fetters bound, The Ruler of the Gods Shall yet have need of me, yes, e'en of me, To tell the counsel new That seeks to strip from him His sceptre and his might of sovereignty. In vain will He with words Or suasion's honeyed charms 180 Soothe me, nor will I tell Through fear of his stern threats, Ere He shall set me free From these my bonds, and make, Of his own choice, amends For all these outrages. _Chor._ Full rash art thou, and yield'st In not a jot to bitterest form of woe; Thou art o'er-free and reckless in thy speech: But piercing fear hath stirred My inmost soul to strife; For I fear greatly touching thy distress, As to what haven of these woes of thine 190 Thou now must steer: the son of Cronos hath A stubborn mood and heart inexorable. _Prom._ I know that Zeus is hard, And keeps the Right supremely to himself; But then, I trow, He'll be Full pliant in his will, When He is thus crushed down. Then, calming down his mood Of hard and bitter wrath, He'll hasten unto me, As I to him shall haste, 200 For friendship and for peace. _Chor._ Hide it not from us, tell us all the tale: For what offence Zeus, having seized thee thus, So wantonly and bitterly insults thee: If the tale hurt thee not, inform thou us.