Page:Prometheus Bound (Webster 1866).djvu/71



Thou dost so vainly importune as though

Thou didst persuade a wave out of its course.

Nay, never think that I, afraid of aught

Zeus may resolve, will woman-hearted turn

And will that most abhorred one supplicate,

Lifting beseeching hands as women do,

To free me from these bonds. That may not be.

It seems I may speak much and speak in vain,

For thou art nothing touched nor thy heart moved

By entreaties, but dost, like some new-yoked colt,

Champing the bit, plunge and resist the reins.

But 'tis poor cleverness that puffs thee up,

For by mere stubbornness left to itself

The unwise are less than nothing profited.

But, ponder it, if thou yield not to my words

What tempest and what triple wave of woes

Will whelm thee past escape. For first of all

With thunder and the lightning's flame the father

Will cleave this rugged precipice, and hide

Thy body, and the rocks shall gird thee in;