He was compelled to have the cruel order executed, but he spoke words of compassion, at which his more brutal henchmen frowned. So Prometheus was forced to hang from the cliff, upright and sleepless, and never could he bend his tired knees. “You will utter many plaints and sighs, and they will all be in vain,” said Hephaestus. “For the purpose of Zeus is unshakable; hard of heart are those who have but lately wrested power from others and taken it to themselves.”

The torments of the captive were intended to endure forever, or for thirty thousand years at the very least. He moaned aloud and called on the winds and the rivers, on the zodiac, from which nothing is hidden, and on Earth, the mother of all, to witness his agony, but his spirit remained steadfast. “Whoever has learned to accept the unshakable power of necessity,” he said, “must suffer what Destiny decrees.” Nor could the threats of Zeus induce him to explain his dark prophecy that new wedlock would bring ruin and destruction to the king of the gods. Zeus was true to his word. Every day he sent an eagle to feed on his captive’s liver, which, however much it was devoured, always grew back again. This torture was to last until one came who, of his own free will, would consent to suffer in Prometheus’ stead.

This came about earlier than the son of the Titans might have supposed, considering the sentence Zeus had pronounced upon him. When he had been hanging from his cliff for many a bitter year, along came Heracles, bound on his quest for the golden apples of the Hesperides. He saw the descendant of the gods shackled to the Caucasus and was about to ask him for advice on how to prosper in his search, when he was overwhelmed with pity at his fate, for he observed the eagle perched on the knees of the luckless Prometheus. Heracles laid his club and his lion’s skin on the ground behind him, bent his bow, launched the arrow, and shot the cruel bird from the liver of its anguished host. Then he loosed the chains, delivered Prometheus, and led him away. But to satisfy the conditions stipulated by Zeus, he brought Chiron, the centaur, as a substitute, for even though Chiron had claim to immortality, he offered to die in the Titan’s stead. And to fulfill the judgment of Zeus, son of Cronus, in every point, Prometheus, who had been sentenced to the cliff for a far longer time, had always to wear an iron ring, set with a chip from the stony wall of the Caucasus, so that Zeus could boast that his enemy was still forged to the mountain.

THE AGES OF MAN

THE first men the gods created were the race of the Men of Gold. As long as Cronus (Saturn) ruled the heavens, they lived free of care and untouched by toil or sorrow, almost like the gods themselves. Nor did they ever grow old. Their hands and feet retained their young strength. Lithe of limb, unvexed by ills, they rejoiced in feasting and gaiety, and the immortals loved them and gave them plentiful harvests and stately herds. When their time came to die, they slipped into untroubled sleep, but while they lived they had many desirable things. Earth yielded them her fruits of her own accord and in great abundance. Rich in all they had need of, they lived out their days in calm serenity. When Destiny decreed that they pass from the earth, they became benevolent patron deities, who pace the length and breadth of the land garmented in cloud, grant gifts, uphold justice, and avenge wrongs.

Then the gods created a second race, the race of the Men of Silver. These were very different from the first, both in appearance and spirit. Their sons remained boys for a full hundred years, immature in their ways, tended and indulged by their mothers. And when such a child at last grew to young manhood, only a brief span of life was left him. Reckless actions plunged these new men into disaster, for they could not check their passions. They were savage and proud, sinned against one another, and no longer paid homage to the gods by bringing fitting sacrifice to their altars. Zeus was so displeased at this lack of reverence for the immortals that he removed this race from the earth. But even the silver race was not so devoid of all virtues that certain honors were not accorded them, for when they had ceased to live as human beings, they were permitted to roam the earth as demons.

And now Father Zeus created a third race, the race of the Men of Bronze.