To a mysterious art; of fire-eyed signs,
I purged the vision, over-filmed before.
Such were the boons I gave; and 'neath the earth
Those other helps to men, concealed which lie,
Brass, iron, silver, gold, who dares affirm 510
That before me he had discovered them?
No one, I know, but who would idly vaunt.
The sum of all learn thou in one brief word;
All arts to mortals from Prometheus came.
Chorus.
Not now for mortals beyond measure care
Thy hapless self neglecting; since, in sooth,
Good hope have I that, loosen'd from these bonds,
In might thou'lt prove an equal match for Zeus.
Prometheus.
Not yet nor thus is it ordained that fate
These things shall compass; but by myriad pangs 520
And tortures bent, so shall I 'scape these bonds;
Art than necessity is weaker far.
Chorus.
Who then is helmsman of necessity?
Prometheus.
The triform Fates and ever-mindful Furies.
Chorus.
Is Zeus in might less absolute than these?
Prometheus.
E'en he the fore-ordain'd cannot escape.
