Page:Prometheus Bound (Webster 1866).djvu/66



What should I fear, for whom death is not writ.

But he might try thee with yet keener pangs.

Let him do it then; I am prepared for all.

Wise are they who to Adrasteia bow.

Do ye your homage still to whoso reigns,

Pray to him, fawn upon him. But for me

I prize Zeus less than nothing. Let him do,

Let him play the master for this little while

As it likes him, he'll not rule the gods for long.

But Zeus's errandsman I see at hand,

The minister of this new autocrat.

Be sure he comes to herald some ill news.

Thou the great sage; thou in thy bitterness

Something too bitter; thou who against the gods

Hast sinned, giving greatness to the ephemerals;