DIALOGUES OF THE GODS

I

_Prometheus. Zeus_


_Prom_. Release me, Zeus; I have suffered enough.

_Zeus_. Release you? you? Why, by rights your irons should be heavier,
you should have the whole weight of Caucasus upon you, and instead of
one, a dozen vultures, not just pecking at your liver, but scratching
out your eyes. You made these abominable human creatures to vex us,
you stole our fire, you invented women. I need not remind you how you
overreached me about the meat-offerings; my portion, bones disguised
in fat: yours, all the good.

_Prom_. And have I not been punished enough--riveted to the Caucasus
all these years, feeding your bird (on which all worst curses light!)
with my liver?

_Zeus_. 'Tis not a tithe of your deserts.

_Prom_. Consider, I do not ask you to release me for nothing. I offer
you information which is invaluable.