Even with the gifts of Prometheus, men could not rest content. As years
went by, they lost all the innocence of the early world; they grew more
and more covetous and evil-hearted. Not satisfied with the fruits of
the Earth, or with the fair work of their own hands, they delved in the
ground after gold and jewels; and for the sake of treasure nations made
war upon each other and hate sprang up in households. Murder and theft
broke loose and left nothing sacred.

At last Zeus spoke. Calling the gods together, he said: "Ye see what
the Earth has become through the baseness of men. Once they were
deserving of our protection; now they even neglect to ask it. I will
destroy them with my thunderbolts and make a new race."

But the gods withheld him from this impulse. "For," they said, "let not
the Earth, the mother of all, take fire and perish. But seek out some
means to destroy mankind and leave her unhurt."

So Zeus unloosed the waters of the world and there was a great flood.

The streams that had been pent in narrow channels, like wild steeds
bound to the ploughshare, broke away with exultation; the springs
poured down from the mountains, and the air was blind with rain.
Valleys and uplands were covered; strange countries were joined in one
great sea; and where the highest trees had towered, only a little
greenery pricked through the water, as weeds show in a brook.

Men and women perished with the flocks and herds. Wild beasts from the
forest floated away on the current with the poor sheep. Birds, left
homeless, circled and flew far and near seeking some place of rest,