THE EARTH:
Misery, Oh misery to me,
That Jove at length should vanquish thee.
Wail, howl aloud, Land and Sea,
The Earth's rent heart shall answer ye.
Howl, Spirits of the living and the dead, _310
Your refuge, your defence, lies fallen and vanquished.
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!