I have well looked, and fixed is my resolve.

HERMES.

Bow thy proud soul, insensate wretch, and do
What wisdom bids in thine extremity.

PROMETHEUS.

Waste no more words, thou dost but chide the sea;
Dream not that I can be o'erawed by Zeus,
That I will from my manhood derogate
And sue to him that from my soul I hate,
With womanish uplifting of my hands,
For liberation from these fetters.--Never!

HERMES.

Methinks I spend my eloquence in vain,
For all my prayers nor melt nor move thy heart.
Like a raw colt that pulls against the reins,
Taking the bit between his teeth, art thou.
And yet thy mettle will but weakness prove;
For dogged resolution by itself,
With wisdom unallied, is impotence.
See if thou wilt not to my words give ear,
What stormy billows of resistless woe
Will overwhelm thee. First the Almighty Sire
Will with his thunder cleave this beetling rock,
And bury thee beneath its shattered base,