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 æther; and blithely would he recline his limbs in his stalls at home.
[Exit Ocean.
Ch. I bewail thee for thy lost fate, Prometheus. A flood of trickling tears from my yielding eyes has bedewed my cheek with its humid gushings; for Jupiter commanding this thine unenviable doom by laws of his own, displays his spear appearing superior o'er the gods of old.[28] And now the whole land echoes with wailing—they wail thy stately and time-graced honors, and those of thy brethren; and all they of mortal race that occupy a dwelling neighboring on hallowed Asia[29] mourn with thy deeply-deplorable sufferings: the virgins that dwell in the land of Colchis too, fearless of the fight, and the Scythian horde who possess the most remote regions of earth around lake Mæotis; and the war-like flower of Arabia,[30] who occupy a fortress on the craggy heights in the neighborhood of Caucasus, a warrior-host, clamoring amid sharply-barbed spears.