Kitap 4
All unforgetful of his ancient craft,
Transforms himself to every wondrous thing,
Fire and a fearful beast, and flowing stream.
But when no trickery found a path for flight,
Baffled at length, to his own shape returned,
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With human lips he spake, “Who bade thee, then,
So reckless in youth's hardihood, affront
Our portals? or what wouldst thou hence?”—But he,
“Proteus, thou knowest, of thine own heart thou knowest;
For thee there is no cheating, but cease thou
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To practise upon me: at heaven's behest
I for my fainting fortunes hither come
An oracle to ask thee.” There he ceased.
Whereat the seer, by stubborn force constrained,
Shot forth the grey light of his gleaming eyes
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Upon him, and with fiercely gnashing teeth
Unlocks his lips to spell the fates of heaven:
“Doubt not 'tis wrath divine that plagues thee thus,
Nor light the debt thou payest; 'tis Orpheus' self,
Orpheus unhappy by no fault of his,
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