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This cannot by any reasonable stretch of the imagination be called a "restoration," or even an attempted one, since the "original" consists of just a few words! The limitless depth of the Prometheus myth is here unearthed in all its potential, in much more subtle and less overwrought a fashion than Shelley's undeniably impressive but almost absurdly baroque "Prometheus Unbound." The language and structure are both pretty good imitations of Aesychlus, but I don't think the great tragedian would have focused his play around the peculiarly nineteenth-century humanistic milieu in which Bennett (a strangely obscure personage) was writing. It is best seen as a completely separate product of its time with strong and admirable classical homages; and as such, it is a solid poetical work that deserves to be more widely known and read.