PROMETHEUS BOUND
Of fiery ferment unapproachable,
Albeit by the thunder of Zeus calcined.
Thou art not all unschool'd, nor needest me
To learn thee. Save thyself: thou knowest how.
For me,
My fate is come, and I will bear it out,
Until the soul of Zeus be eased of wrath.
OKEANOS
But know'st thou not, Prometheus, this for sure—
Choler distemper'd finds in words a cure?
PROMETHEUS
Yea, if they work upon the soul in season,
On passion in full pulse not forcing reason. 380
OKEANOS
But for the will, for making the adventure
Were one the worse? If thou see'st loss, declare it.
PROMETHEUS
Superfluous pains and fond simplicity.
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