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144 Aeschylus [594-621]
That callest me thus by name,
Oh name most wretched! and tellest
The wasting plague heaven-sent
And the pest with its haunting sting?
Ah me! behold I am come
With leapings of madness, by hunger
And craving impelled, and subdued
By the crafty anger of Hera.
Who in this world of calamity,
Who suffers as I?—But thou,
If thou canst, declare what awaits me
Of sorrow; what healing balm
I may find. Speak thou, I implore thee,
I, the wandering virgin of sorrows.
PROMETHEUS
Clearly I will set forth all you would learn; speaking not in dark riddles,
but in full simplicity, as speech is due between friends. Behold, I
whom you see am Prometheus, the giver of fire to mankind.
Io
You who appeared to men with all-sufficient bounty,—tell me why are
you, O enduring Prometheus, given over to chastisement?
PROMETHEUS
But now I have ceased bewailing these calamities.
Io
And will you deny me this simple boon?
PROMETHEUS
What do you ask? You may learn all from me.
Io
Declare who chained you to this rocky gorge.
PROMETHEUS
The will of Zeus, but Hephaestus' hand.
Io
For what crimes are you punished thus?
PROMETHEUS
I have told you enough; ask no more.