And, holding mortals up to pity, myself am not
Thought worthy to obtain it; but without pity
Am I thus corrected, a spectacle inglorious to Zeus.
Ch. Of iron heart and made of stone,
Whoe'er, Prometheus, with thy sufferings
Does not grieve; for I should not have wished to see
These things, and having seen them I am grieved at heart.
Pr. Indeed to friends I'm piteous to behold.
Ch. Did you in no respect go beyond this?
Pr. True, mortals I made cease foreseeing fate.