Aeschylus' PROMETHEUS BOUND Complete

Translated by G. M. Cookson.

Aeschylus Bilingual Anthology  Studies  Aeschylus in Print

66 pages - You are on Page 42

Chorus: Off! lost one! off! Horror, I cry!
Horror and misery
Was this the traveller's tale I craved to hear?
Oh, that mine eyes should see
A sight so ill to look upon! Ah me!
Sorrow, defilement, haunting fear,
Fan my blood cold,
Stabbed with a two-edged sting!
O Fate, Fate, Fate, tremblingly I behold
The plight of Io, thine apportioning!

Prometheus: Thou dost lament too soon, and art as one
All fear. Refrain thyself till thou hast heard
What's yet to be.

Chorus: Speak and be our instructor:
There is a kind of balm to the sick soul
In certain knowledge of the grief to come.

Prometheus: Your former wish I lightly granted ye:
And ye have heard, even as ye desired,
From this maid's lips the story of her sorrow.

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