PROMETHEUS
Grievous to me it is these things to tell,
Grief to be silent: trouble every way.
When first the heavenly powers were moved to rage,
And in opposing factions ranged their might,
These wishing Kronos from his seat to hurl
That Zeus forsooth might reign; these, counter-wise,
Resolved that o'er the gods Zeus ne'er should rule;
Then I with sagest counsel strove to move
The Titans, progeny of heaven and earth,
But strove in vain; for they, in stubborn souls
Of crafty wiles disdainful, thought by force,
An easy task, the mastery to gain.
But me, not once but oft, my mother Themis,
And Earth (one shape with many names) had told
Prophetic, how the future should be wrought.
That not by strength of thew or hardiment
Should mastery be compassed, but by guile;
But when this lore I did expound in words,
They deigned me not a single look; whereon,
Of courses free to choose, the wisest seemed
Leagued with my mother, of my own free will
The will of Zeus to meet, siding with him,
And by my counsels black-roofed Tartaros'
Murky abyss primeval Kronos now
Engulfs with his allies; such benefits
From me the tyrant of the gods received,
And hath requited with these base returns.
For, someway, cleaveth aye to tyranny
This fell disease; to have no faith in friends.
But touching which ye ask me, on what charge
He thus maltreats me; this will I make clear.
When seated on his father's throne, forthwith,
He to the several gods was dealing out
Their several honours, marshalling his realm;
But he of toil-worn mortals took no count;
The race entire he ardently desired
To quench, and plant a new one in its stead.
And none but I opposed his purposes;
I dared alone;—I saved the mortal race
From sinking blasted down to Hades' gloom.
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For this by these dire tortures I am bent,
Grievous to suffer, piteous to behold.
I who did mortals pity, of like grace
Am deem'd unworthy, but am grimly thus
Tuned to his will, a sight of shame to Zeus.
