Kratos.
'Words,' quotha? Aye, and shout 'em if need be.
Come down and cast a ring-bolt round his legs.
Hephaestus.
The thing is featly done;—and 'twas quick work.
Kratos.
Now with a sound rap knock the bolt-pins home!
For heavy handed is thy task-master.
Hephaestus.
So villainous a form vile tongue befits.
Kratos.
Be thou the heart of wax, but chide not me
That I am gruffish, stubborn and stiff-willed.
Hephaestus.
Oh, come away! The tackle holds him fast.
Kratos.
Now, where thou hang'st, insult! Plunder the Gods
For creatures of a day! To thee what gift
Will mortals tender to requite thy pains?
The destinies were out miscalling thee
Designer: a designer thou wilt need
From trap so well contrived to twist thee free.
[Exeunt.
Prometheus.
O divine air! Breezes on swift bird-wings,
Ye river fountains, and of ocean-waves
The multitudinous laughter! Mother Earth!
And thou all-seeing circle of the sun,
Behold what I, a God, from Gods endure!