Originally from Lucian of Samosata’s Dialogues of the Gods (2nd century BCE). Fowler’s 1905 translation of the Dialogues here; Tooke’s 1820 translation here.
Prometheus and Zeus.
PROMETHEUS. [Stapled to a rock face, liver half-out, the whole nine.]
Release me, God, or let me die. I have suffered every hour of every day for ten thousand thousand years. It is enough.
ZEUS.
If I had any idea how to make metal heavier, I would make your life worse in a heartbeat. You know, that’s not a bad idea right there. I’m going to ask the boy if he knows how to make metal heavier.
PROMETHEUS.
What boy?
ZEUS.
Oh, Lord, I’m hopeless with names. One of mine. Hunchback or something. Extra foot, or not enough feet, he’s got. Always messing about in the dirt. He always seems to have tongs with him. Clackety-clack. Fingernails like a trainyard, that boy, but he’s very good at whatever it is that he does. He’s always making things. Made a shoulder for dark-faced Pelops once. My wife threw him off the top of the world when he was born. Can’t remember why, but she must have had her reasons. Wrought, I think, is what they call it when you make things the way he does. I’m going to see if he can wrought some worse metal for you. Cast you down further, or smite particularly your impudence.
PROMETHEUS. [Groaning thinly.]
ZEUS.
And I’m getting more birds for you. This eagle can only eat so much in a day. More birds, and worse. If only for the trick at Mecone, I think every bird there is should take a crack at you at least once. All anyone ever gives me now is bones. You deserve everything.
PROMETHEUS.
I’m not asking something for nothing. I can offer you prophetic information.
ZEUS.
Titan chicanery! [Still dwelling on Mecone.] Anyone with eyes would have chosen the bones wrapped in fat. They were glistening with delicious fat!
PROMETHEUS.
If I speak in error, you lose nothing. You can always find a mountain and shackles again, if I mislead you and you decide you want to chain me up again.
ZEUS.
I like the part where I stand to lose nothing…You may speak.
PROMETHEUS.
Am I right in thinking you’re off to visit the nymph Thetis?
ZEUS.
Warlock and sibyl! …Is Sibyls ours now, or is that later? I mean, are Sibyls with me when I’m Zeus, or are Sibyls afterwards, when I’m Jove? Oracle, anyhow. Forget everything I said before. You knew I was going to try to sleep with a nymph…Oraculous. [Tearing up a little] You are my most trusted advisor. I want to know everything you’ve ever thought.
PROMETHEUS.
You must not sleep with her. Any child of yours by Thetis will treat you as you treated your own father.
ZEUS.
I enjoyed it at the time, of course…but on reflection, I don’t think I’d like to be treated that way myself at all. Thetis: Farewell. Thank you kindly, young man. I didn’t catch your name. I’ll send the boy round to unchain you later. The eagle I’m afraid I can’t do anything about. He just does that.
PROMETHEUS. [Groans thinly.]
ZEUS.
Hephaestus. That’s the name. I knew it would come to me.
Zeus and Hermes.
ZEUS.
Hermes! You remember that beautiful girl — Inachus’ daughter, the one I was so fond of?
HERMES.
Io? The priestess of Hera in Argos?
ZEUS.
I don’t know about that. Not sure she was priestess of any goddess in particular, just a priestess of goddesses generally. They’re very general on Argus. At any rate, she’s been made into a cow now. Oh, that’s awful. That doesn’t make it sound serious at all, the way that rhymes. She is presently a cow, through no fault of her own.
HERMES.
Remarkable. How did it happen?
ZEUS.
Oh, how does anyone get turned into cows these days? My wife did it. I told her not to bother, that it certainly wouldn’t slow me down any, but that just made her madder.
HERMES.
[Diplomatically] I see.
ZEUS.
So she sat around trying to think of ways to make a cow’s life worse, which as you might imagine is pretty difficult, but she managed to find a shepherd — whatever you’d call a shepherd for cows —
HERMES.
A cowherd?
ZEUS.
That doesn’t sound right at all. You don’t call a fellow who raises horses a horseherd.
HERMES.
There’s goatherds.
ZEUS.
Yes, but that’s different.
HERMES.
How’s that?
ZEUS.
Geese have wings.
HERMES.
I don’t follow.
ZEUS.
It’s just different, qualitatively. She’s found — Hera’s found, I mean — a fellow to look at Io all day, so she can’t slip out and have any fun for even a minute, who’s eyes entirely. He’s eyes throughout. Utterly eyes, this man.
HERMES.
And how can I help you resolve this situation?
ZEUS.
Oh, Lord, I don’t know. Find the pasture, kill Argus, take her to Egypt, and transform her into the goddess Isis, making her responsible for flooding the Nile annually and regulating the winds?
HERMES.
This would help, you think?
ZEUS.
I don’t see how it could hurt. Give her something to look forward to. I’m sure she would prefer being the Egyptian goddess Isis and managing the Nile to being a cow that’s not allowed to have sex with me anymore.
See to it that she floods it annually, now. In summer, I think is when they expect it. After Shemu but before Peret. And if the flooding of the Nile’s already got a god associated with it, give him my fulsomest apologies and a helm that grants invisibility to its wearer, or a boar that can run faster than a horse or something. You ever made it with a cow, Hermes? The trick is to [Exit Hermes]
A shower of comedic gold!