Io.
Nay,
Tender me not a boon to snatch it from me.
Prometheus.
Of two gifts thou hast asked one shall be thine.
Io.
What gifts? Pronounce and leave to me the choice.
Prometheus.
Nay, thou are free to choose. Say, therefore, whether
I shall declare to thee thy future woes
Or him who shall be my deliverer.
Chorus.
Nay, but let both be granted! Unto her
That which she chooseth, unto me my choice,
That I, too, may have honour from thy lips.
First unto her declare her wanderings,
And unto me him who shall set thee free;
'Tis that I long to know.
Prometheus.
I will resist
No further, but to your importunacy
All things which ye desire to learn reveal.
And, Io, first to thee I will declare
Thy far-driven wanderings; write thou my words
In the retentive tablets of thy heart.
When thou hast crossed the flood that flows between
And is the boundary of two continents,
Turn to the sun's uprising, where he treads
Printing with fiery steps the eastern sky,
And from the roaring of the Pontic surge
