FIRST ECHO:
Lies fallen and vanquished!
SECOND ECHO:
Fallen and vanquished!
IONE:
Fear not: ’tis but some passing spasm,
The Titan is unvanquished still. _315
But see, where through the azure chasm
Of yon forked and snowy hill
Trampling the slant winds on high
With golden-sandalled feet, that glow
Under plumes of purple dye, _320
Like rose-ensanguined ivory,
A Shape comes now,
Stretching on high from his right hand
A serpent-cinctured wand.
PANTHEA:
’Tis Jove’s world-wandering herald, Mercury. _325
IONE:
And who are those with hydra tresses
And iron wings that climb the wind,
Whom the frowning God represses
Like vapours steaming up behind,
Clanging loud, an endless crowd— _330
PANTHEA:
These are Jove’s tempest-walking hounds,
Whom he gluts with groans and blood,
When charioted on sulphurous cloud
He bursts Heaven’s bounds.
IONE:
Are they now led, from the thin dead _335
On new pangs to be fed?
PANTHEA:
The Titan looks as ever, firm, not proud.
FIRST FURY:
Ha! I scent life!
SECOND FURY:
Let me but look into his eyes!