Now buckle this! and handsomely! Let him learn

Sharp though he be, he's a dull blade to Zeus.

None can find fault with this: -save him it tortures.

Now take thine iron spike and drive it in,

Until it gnaw clean through the rebel's breast.

Woe's me, Prometheus, for thy weight of woe!

Still shirking? still a-groaning for the foes

Of Zeus? Anon thou'lt wail thine own mishap.