cian caverns, a tremendous prodigy, the hundred-headed
impetuous Typhon, overpowered by force, who withstood all the gods,
hissing slaughter from his hungry jaws; and from his eyes there flashed
a hideous glare, as though he would perforce overthrow the sovereignty
of Jove. But the sleepless shaft of Jupiter came upon him, the
descending thunderbolt breathing forth flame, which scared him out of
his presumptuous bravadoes; for having been smitten to his very soul he
was crumbled to a cinder, and thunder-blasted in his prowess. And now, a
helpless and paralyzed form is he lying hard by a narrow frith, pressed
down beneath the roots of AEtna.[25] And, seated on the topmost peaks,
Vulcan forges the molten masses, whence there shall one day burst forth
floods devouring with fell jaws the level fields of fruitful Sicily:
with rage such as this shall Typhon boil over in hot artillery of a
never-glutted fire-breathing storm; albeit he hath been reduced to ashes
by the thunder-bolt of Jupiter. But thou art no novice, nor needest thou
me for thine instructor. Save thyself as best thou knowest how; but I
will exhaust my present fate until such time as the spirit of Jupiter
shall abate its wrath.

OC. Knowest thou not this then, Prometheus, that words are the
physicians of a distempered feeling?[26]

PR. True, if one seasonably soften down the heart, and do not with rude
violence reduce a swelling spirit.

OC. Ay, but in foresight along with boldness[27] what mischief is there
that thou seest to be inherent? inform me.

PR. Superfluous trouble and trifling folly.

OC. Suffer me to sicken in this said sickness, since 'tis of the highest
advantage for one that is wise not to seem to be wise.

PR. (Not so, for) this trespass will seem to be mine.

OC. Thy language is plainly sending me back to my home.

PR. Lest thy lamentation over me bring thee into ill-will.

OC. What with him who hath lately seated himself on the throne that
ruleth over all?

PR. Beware of him lest at any time his heart be moved to wrath.

OC. Thy disaster, Prometheus, is my monitor.

PR. Away! withdraw thee, keep thy present determination.

OC. On me, hastening to start, hast thou urged this injunction; for my
winged quadruped flaps with his pinions the smooth track of aether; and
blithely would he recline his limbs in his stalls at home.

[_Exit_ OC.

CH. I bewail thee for thy lost fate, Prometheus. A flood of trickling
tears from my yieldin