PROMETHEUS
Ay--but mark this: mine heritage of pain
I would not barter for thy servitude.
Ay--but mark this: mine heritage of pain
I would not barter for thy servitude.
Aeschylus
HERMES
Thou, double-dyed in gall of bitterness,
Trickster and sinner against gods, by giving
The stolen fire to perishable men!
Attend--the Sire supreme doth bid thee tell
What is the wedlock which thou vauntest now,
Whereby he falleth from supremacy?
Speak forth the whole, make all thine utterance clear,
Have done with words inscrutable, nor cause
To me, Prometheus! any further toil
Or twofold journeying. Go to--thou seest
Zeus doth not soften at such words as thine!
PROMETHEUS
Pompous, in sooth, thy word, and swoln with pride,
As doth befit the lacquey of thy lords!
O ye young gods! how, in your youthful sway,
Ye deem secure your citadels of sky,
Beyond the reach of sorrow or of fall!
Have I not seen two dynasties of gods
Already flung therefrom? and soon shall see
A third, that now in tyranny exults,
Shamed, ruined, in an hour! What sayest thou?
Crouch I and tremble at these stripling powers?
Small homage unto such from me, or none!
Betake thee hence, sweat back along thy road--
Look for no answer from me, get thee gone!
HERMES
Think--it was such audacities of will
That drove thee erst to anchorage in woe!
PROMETHEUS
Ay--but mark this: mine heritage of pain
I would not barter for thy servitude.
HERMES
Better, forsooth, be bond-slave to a crag,
Than true-born herald unto Zeus the Sire!
PROMETHEUS
Take thine own coin--taunts for a taunting slave!
HERMES
Proud art thou in thy circumstance, methinks!
PROMETHEUS
Proud? in such pride then be my foemen set,
And I to see--and of such foes art thou!
HERMES
What, blam'st thou me too for thy sufferings?
PROMETHEUS
Mark a plain word--I loathe all gods that are,
Who reaped my kindness and repay with wrong.
HERMES
I hear no little madness in thy words.
PROMETHEUS
Madness be mine, if scorn of foes be mad.
HERMES
Past bearing were thy pride, in happiness.
PROMETHEUS
Ah me!
HERMES
Zeus knoweth nought of sorrow's cry!
PROMETHEUS
He shall! Time's lapse bringeth all lessons home.
HERMES
To thee it brings not yet discretion's curb.