With hot discharges of insatiable fire-breathing tempest,
Though by the bolt of Zeus burnt to a coal.
Pr. Thou art not inexperienced, nor dost want
My counsel; secure thyself as thou know'st how;
And I against the present fortune will bear up,
Until the thought of Zeus may cease from wrath.
Oc. Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, that
Words are healers of distempered wrath?
Pr. If any seasonably soothe the heart,
And swelling passion check not rudely.
Oc. In the consulting and the daring
What harm seest thou existing? Teach me.
Pr. Trouble superfluous, and light-minded folly.
Oc. Be this my ail then, since it is
Most profitable, being wise, not to seem wise.
Pr. This will seem to be my error.
Oc. Plainly homeward thy words remand me.
Pr. Aye, let not grief for me into hostility cast thee.
Oc. To the new occupant of the all-powerful seats?
Pr. Beware lest ever his heart be angered.
Oc. Thy fate, Prometheus, is my teacher.
