os tachista ton patroon eis thronon kathezet',
euthus daimosin nemei gera alloisin alla--k.t.l.],[1] all the while
Prometheus being the first among the first in honour, as [Greek:
kaitoi theoisi tois neois toutois gera tis allos, e 'go, pantelos
diorise]?[2] then the one black hand-cloudlet storming the joyous
blue and gold everywhere, [Greek: broton de ton talaiporon logon ouk
eschen oudena],[3] and the design of Zeus to blot out the whole race,
and plant a new one. And Prometheus with his grand solitary [Greek:
ego d' etolmesa],[4] and his saving them, as the _first_ good, from
annihilation. Then comes the darkening brow of Zeus, and estrangement
from the benign circle of grateful gods, and the dissuasion of old
confederates, and all the Right that one may fancy in Might, the
strongest reasons [Greek: pauesthai tropou philanthropou][5] coming
from the own mind of the Titan, if you will, and all the while he
shall be proceeding steadily in the alleviation of the sufferings of
mortals whom, [Greek: nepious ontas to prin, ennous kai phrenon
epebolous etheke],[6] while still, in proportion, shall the doom he is
about to draw on himself, manifest itself more and more distinctly,
till at the last, he shall achieve the salvation of man, body (by the
gift of fire) and soul (by even those [Greek: tuphlai elpides],[7]
hopes of immortality), and so having rendered him utterly, according
to the mythos here, _independent_ of Jove--for observe, Prometheus in
the play never talks of helping mortals more, of fearing for them
more, of even benefiting them more by his sufferings. The rest is
between Jove and himself; he will reveal the master-secret to Jove
when he shall have released him, &c. There is no stipulation that the
gifts to mortals shall be continued; indeed, by the fact that it is
Prometheus who hangs on Caucasus while 'the ephemerals possess fire,'
one sees that somehow mysteriously _they_ are past Jove's harming now.
Well, this wholly achieved, the price is as wholly accepted, and off
into the darkness passes in calm triumphant grandeur the Titan, with
Strength and Violence, and Vulcan's silent and downcast eyes, and then
the gold clouds and renewed flushings of felicity shut up the scene
again, with Might in his old throne again, yet with a new element of
mistrust, and conscious shame, and fear, that writes significantly
enough above all the glory and rejoicing that all is not as it was,
nor will ever be. Such might be th