Page:Prometheus bound - Browning (1833).djvu/60

 And none, save I, contrived the linen-wing'd,14 Sea-wand'ring ships, whereon the sailors ride. Now, I unhappy, who such arts devised For mortal man, myself have no device, Whereby I may escape my present woe. Cho. Thou hast endured unseemly punishment Madden'd by error; and, as leech unskill'd Who falleth sick, thou yieldest to despair, Nor findest 'mid thy drugs thy proper cure. Pro. More wilt thou wonder, having heard the rest, Touching what arts and manners I devised;— The greatest, this. Of old, were any sick, There was no help, nor esculent, nor liquid, Nor yet anointive; but men lay outworn For lack of drugs, till I declared to them The combinations of soft remedies, Whereby all sicknesses were warded off. And divination's many rules I fix'd, And first adjudged what dreams possess the mark