Thou of the crafty soul and bitter tongue, Sinner, that did'st betray to mortal man The attributes of gods, stealer of fire, The Father bids thee tell what wedlock this That thou dost boast shall hurl him from his throne. Speak plain, Prometheus, and take heed that I Have not a second journey, for such shifts, As well thou seest, turn not the heart of Zeus. PROMETHEUS. High are the words and full of majesty For him that runs the errands of the gods. New are ye, new to rule, and deem your tower Of puissance proof against calamity. Yet therefrom two lords I have seen cast out; A third, him that now reigns, cast out shall see Most quickly and most foully. Think'st thou I Will crouch before these gods of yesterday? Far, far from me that thought of shame. Do thou The way thou camest measure back with speed, For to thy question I give answer none. HERMES. It was by such self-will before displayed, That thou did'st pluck these woes upon thy head. PROMETHEUS. My woes, how great so e'er, I would not change For servitude like thine; of that be sure. HERMES. Better, thou think'st, be bondsman to this rock Than be the faithful pursuivant of Zeus. PROMETHEUS. 'Tis meet the scorner should be met with scorn. HERMES. Thou seem'st to revel in thy present lot. PROMETHEUS. Revel! I would that I could see my foes Thus revelling, of whom I count thee one. HERMES. Layest thou the blame on me of thy mischance? PROMETHEUS. I hate, without exception, all the gods Who my good deeds with injury requite. HERMES. Thy words bespeak no common sickness thine. PROMETHEUS. If hating foes be sickness, I am sick. HERMES. Thou wert past bearing wert thou prosperous. PROMETHEUS. Alas! HERMES. Zeus knows not how to say Alas! PROMETHEUS. Time in its course can teach us anything. HERMES. Yet thee it has not taught to rule thy tongue. PROMETHEUS.. No, else I had not parleyed with a slave. HERMES. It seems thou wilt not tell what Zeus demands. PROMETHEUS. Were I his debtor I the debt would pay. HERMES. As though I were a child thou twittest me. PROMETHEUS. Art thou not sillier than a silly child, To think that I will tell thee what thou ask'st? No torture does Zeus know, he has no rack By which he can my secret wrest from me, Till from these cruel bonds I am released. Let him hurl lightnings with his red right hand, Let him with whirling snow and earthquake shock, Confound and wreck this universal frame, Never shall he constrain me to reveal The child of fate that hurls him from his throne. HERMES. Look, will this insolence amend thy lot? PROMETHEUS. I have well looked, and fixed is my resolve. HERMES. Bow thy proud soul, insensate wretch, and do What wisdom bids in thine extremity. PROMETHEUS.