Woe, woe, woe! Where shall my weary course be done? What wouldst thou with me, Saturn's son? And in what have I sinned, that I should go Thus yoked to grief by thine hand for ever? Ah! ah! dost vex me so That I madden and shiver Stung through with dread? Flash the fire down to burn me! Heave the earth up to cover me! Plunge me in the deep, with the salt waves over me, That the sea-beasts may be fed! O king, do not spurn me In my prayer! For this wandering everlonger, evermore, Hath overworn me, And I know not on what shore I may rest from my despair. _Chorus._ Hearest thou what the ox-horned maiden saith? _Prometheus._ How could I choose but hearken what she saith, The phrensied maiden?--Inachus's child?-- Who love-warms Zeus's heart, and now is lashed By Herè's hate along the unending ways? _Io._ Who taught thee to articulate that name,-- My father's? Speak to his child By grief and shame defiled! Who art thou, victim, thou who dost acclaim Mine anguish in true words on the wide air, And callest too by name the curse that came From Herè unaware, To waste and pierce me with its maddening goad? Ah--ah--I leap With the pang of the hungry--I bound on the road-- I am driven by my doom-- I am overcome By the wrath of an enemy strong and deep! Are any of those who have tasted pain, Alas! as wretched as I? Now tell me plain, doth aught remain For my soul to endure beneath the sky? Is there any help to be holpen by? If knowledge be in thee, let it be said! Cry aloud--cry To the wandering, woful maid! _Prometheus._ Whatever thou wouldst learn I will declare,-- No riddle upon my lips, but such straight words As friends should use to each other when they talk. Thou seest Prometheus, who gave mortals fire. _Io._ O common Help of all men, known of all, O miserable Prometheus,--for what cause Dost thou endure thus? _Prometheus._ I have done with wail For my own griefs, but lately. _Io._ Wilt thou not Vouchsafe the boon to me? _Prometheus._ Say what thou wilt, For I vouchsafe all. _Io._ Speak then, and reveal Who shut thee in this chasm. _Prometheus._ The will of Zeus, The hand of his Hephæstus. _Io._ And what crime Dost expiate so? _Prometheus._ Enough for thee I have told In so much only. _Io._ Nay, but show besides The limit of my wandering, and the time Which yet is lacking to fulfil my grief. _Prometheus._ Why, not to know were better than to know For such as thou. _Io._ Beseech thee, blind me not To that which I must suffer.