52

Prometheus: This distress will seem to be mine.

Oceanus: Your pointed words return me home.
Prometheus: Beware lest your mourning me beckon hate.
bceanus: From him new-t hroned, omnipotent?
Prometheus: Watch, lest you chafe his temper someday.
CGceanus: Your plight, Prometheus, forewarns me.
Prometheus: Then begone, and preserve your present pur-
pose.

Oceanus: You press and urge one eager to go. My four-footed
bird is ruffling the calm of this airway. His wings flutter in
anxiety for his stall at home. (exit)

Chorus: I mourn for your mournful doom, Prometheus,
there roll from my eyes rivulets of dew; I moisten my tender
cheeks with the blpom of tears and rue; for Zeus, with
self-made laws and customs new, rules over the olden gods
and shows cont empt and face of stone to you.

All of the land la ments, undone, constrained to voice its tears,
for your fa mily so honored of old, for lost magnificance;
it sings of sorrow; and all the mortals who inhabit Asia know
your many mournful sufferings and share the canticle of woe.
And maidens facing battle fearless, dwellers of Colchis land;
and Scythian bands inhabiting the end of earth rounding drear
Maeotic firth:

And in the crags of Caucasus Arabia’s warlike flower housed
in high towers, roaring warlike hostile hordes among their
sharp and pointed swords:

And the sea billows weep as they fall, and mournfully rumbles
the deep; a wall comes reechoing from Hades’ black hall,
from underground; and the pale pure river springs flowing
deplore your pain with plaintive sound.

Prometheus: Not pride norarrogance silences me, but dark-