Page:Prometheus Bound (Bevan 1902).djvu/74

 Of fiery ferment unapproachable,

Albeit by the thunder of Zeus calcined.

Thou art not all unschool'd, nor needest me

To learn thee. Save thyself: thou knowest how.

For me,

My fate is come, and I will bear it out,

Until the soul of Zeus be eased of wrath.

But know'st thou not, Prometheus, this for sure—

Choler distemper'd finds in words a cure?

Yea, if they work upon the soul in season,

On passion in full pulse not forcing reason.

But for the will, for making the adventure

Were one the worse? If thou see'st loss, declare it.

Superfluous pains and fond simplicity.