_Oceanus._ Prometheus, I behold: and I would fain Exhort thee, though already subtle enough, To a better wisdom. Titan, know thyself, And take new softness to thy manners since A new king rules the gods. If words like these, Harsh words and trenchant, thou wilt fling abroad, Zeus haply, though he sit so far and high, May hear thee do it, and so, this wrath of his Which now affects thee fiercely, shall appear A mere child's sport at vengeance. Wretched god, Rather dismiss the passion which thou hast, And seek a change from grief. Perhaps I seem To address thee with old saws and outworn sense,-- Yet such a curse, Prometheus, surely waits On lips that speak too proudly: thou, meantime, Art none the meeker, nor dost yield a jot To evil circumstance, preparing still To swell the account of grief with other griefs Than what are borne. Beseech thee, use me then For counsel: do not spurn against the pricks,-- Seeing that who reigns, reigns by cruelty Instead of right. And now, I go from hence, And will endeavour if a power of mine Can break thy fetters through. For thee,--be calm, And smooth thy words from passion. Knowest thou not Of perfect knowledge, thou who knowest too much, That where the tongue wags, ruin never lags? _Prometheus._ I gratulate thee who hast shared and dared All things with me, except their penalty. Enough so! leave these thoughts. It cannot be That thou shouldst move HIM. HE may _not_ be moved; And _thou_ beware of sorrow on this road. _Oceanus._ Ay! ever wiser for another's use Than thine! the event, and not the prophecy, Attests it to me. Yet where now I rush, Thy wisdom hath no power to drag me back; Because I glory, glory, to go hence And win for thee deliverance from thy pangs, As a free gift from Zeus.