OCEAN. I see, Prometheus; and I come to speak A wise word to the wise; receive it wisely. Know what thou art, and make thy manners new; For a new king doth rule the subject gods. Compose thy speech, nor cast such whetted words 'Gainst Jove, who, though he sits apart sublime, Hath ears, and with new pains may smite his victim, To which his present wrath shall seem a toy. Listen to me; slack thy fierce ire, and seek Speedy deliverance from these woes. Trite wisdom Belike I speak, Prometheus; but thou knowest A lofty-sounding tongue with passionate phrase Buys its own ruin. Proud art thou, unyielding, And heap'st new woes tenfold on thine own head. Why should'st thou kick against the pricks? Jove reigns A lord severe, and of his acts need give {192} Account to none, I go to plead for thee, And, what I can, will try to save my kinsman; But be thou calm the while; curb thy rash speech, And let not fame report, that one so wise Fell by the forfeit of a foolish tongue. PROMETHEUS. Count thyself happy, Ocean, being free From blame, who shared and dared with me. Be wise, And what thy meddling aids not, let alone. In vain thou plead'st with him; his ears are deaf. Look to thyself: thy errand is not safe. OCEAN. Wise art thou, passing wise, for others' weal, For thine own good most foolish. Prithee do not So stretch thy stubborn whim to pull against The friends that pull for thee. 'Tis no vain boast; I know that Jove will hear me. PROMETHEUS. Thou art kind; And for thy kind intent and friendly feeling Have my best thanks. But do not, I beseech thee, Waste labour upon me. If thou wilt labour, Seek a more hopeful subject. Thou wert wiser, Being safe, to keep thee safe. I, when I suffer, Wish not that all my friends should suffer with me. Enough my brother Atlas' miseries grieve me.[n25] Who in the extreme West stands, stoutly bearing The pillars of Heaven and Earth upon his shoulders,[n26] No lightsome burden. Him too, I bewail, That made his home in dark Cilician caverns. The hostile portent, Earth-born, hundred-headed Impetuous Typhon,[n27] quelled by force, who stood Alone, against the embattled host of gods, Hissing out murder from his monstrous jaws; And from his eyes there flashed a Gorgon glare, As he would smite the tyranny of great Jove Clean down; but he, with sleepless thunder watching, Hurl'd headlong a flame-breathing bolt, and laid The big-mouthed vaunter low. Struck to the heart With blasted strength, and shrunk to ashes, there A huge and helpless hulk, outstretched he lies, Beside the salt sea's strait, pressed down beneath The roots of Ætna, on whose peaks Hephaestus Sits hammering the hot metal. Thence, one day, Shall streams of liquid fire, swift passage forcing, With savage jaws the wide-spread plains devour {193} Of the fair-fruited Sicily. Such hot shafts, From the flame-breathing ferment of the deep,