What offence hath condemned thee to such bitter pain?

O declare tome, where

In the world have my wanderings borne me?

Ah, ah!

Again the gadfly’s sting — unhappy maiden!

The ghost of earth-born Argus wakes again.

I see the Herdsman hundred-eyed approach me.

Ever he follows, fixed on me his crafty eye;

Whom even after death the earth conceals not.

Ever he tracks me down out of the land of death,

He hunts me hungry, far astray, hapless wanderer on sand-strewn shores.

Strophe

Ever the sleepy music is around my ears,

Melody shrill whispered on waxen reed.

Alas, where, alas,

Where do these wand’rings lead, wanderings aimless, wild?

How have I, O Cronian King,

How have I given offence that I am maltreated so, bound and yoked fast to these miseries, woe is me!

What cause hast thou to madden a helpless maid

With terror of goading torment?

Give me to flames to burn, bury me underground,

Ay, to sea-monsters cast my flesh.

Grudge me not, I pray thee, grant my prayer, O king!

Enough my restless wanderings,

I can no more endure, and know not where to find

Respite from this anguish.

The cow-horned maid cries to thee: hear her cry!

PROMETHEUS

I hear indeed the gadfly-hunted maid,

Daughter of Inachus, who fired the heart

Of Zeus with love, and now by Hera’s hate

Is doomed to run her lengthy race of pain.

IO (Antistrophe)

How dost thou know to call me by my father’s name?

Tell me, speak to an unhappy maid,

Who art thou, hapless one,

Quick to greet me by my true name with knowledge sure

Of the distemper heaven-sent to waste my limbs, pangs that spur feet afar wandering, woe is me!

Distraught with pain and leaping in frenzy high

I come, to spiteful Hera’s

Venomous wiles a victim, and I ask, of all

Evil-starred mortal kind, alas,

Who hath known such anguish? Nay but tell me true,

Declare to me what sufferings

Remain, what physic can assuage my plague —

Show me, if thou knowest!

O speak, hear the far-wandering maiden’s cry!

PROMETHEUS

I will tell clearly all thou seek’st to know,

No riddles weaving, but a plain-told tale,

Even as ’tis meet to open the lips to friends.

Thou seest Prometheus, giver of fire to man.

IO

O common benefactor of mankind,

Prometheus, why art thou condemned to this?

PROMETHEUS

Even now I ceased to mourn my own misfortunes.

IO

Wilt thou not grant the gift I ask of thee?

PROMETHEUS

Say what thou askest: all shalt thou be told.

IO

Declare who prisoned thee in this rocky glen.

PROMETHEUS

The will of Zeus worked by Hephaestus’ hand.

IO

Of what offence is this the penalty?

PROMETHEUS

If I reveal so much, that will suffice.

IO

Nay, show me also when shall I behold

The term of my unhappy wanderings.

PROMETHEUS

Better remain in ignorance of that.

IO

O hide not from me that which I must suffer!

PROMETHEUS

’Tis not that I am jealous of the gift.