HERMES

You, the sophistical rogue, the heart of gall,

The renegade of heaven, to short-lived men

Purveyor of prerogatives and tities,

Fire-thief! Dost hear me? I've a word for thee.

Thou'rt to declare-this is the Father's pleasure

These marriage-feasts of thine, whereof thy tongue

Rattles a-pace, and by the which his greatness

Shall take a fall. And look you rede no riddles,

But tell the truth, in each particular

Exact. I am not to sweat for thee, Prometheus,

Upon a double journey. And thou seest

Zeus by thy dark defiance is not moved.

PROMETHEUS

A very solemn piece of insolence

Spoken like an underling of the Gods! Ye are young!

Ye are young! New come to power And ye suppose

Your towered citadel Calamity

Can never enter! Ah, and have not

Seen from those pinnacles a two-fold fall

Of