Prometheus (17)

Be idle and drink our nectar and eat our ambrosia without doing anything! But what sticks in my throat most is that although you censure me for making men “and particularly the women,” you fall in love with them just the same, and are always going down below, transformed now into bulls, now into satyrs and swans, and you deign to beget gods upon them!

Perhaps, however, you will say that men should have been made, but in some other form and not like us. What better model could I have put before myself than this, which I knew to be beautiful in every way? Should I have made my creatures unintelligent and bestial and savage? Why, how could they have sacrificed to gods or bestowed all the other honours upon you if they were not as they are? You gods do not hang back when they bring you the hecatombs, even if you have to go to the river of Ocean,

to the Ethiopians guileless,