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117 PROMETHEUS BOUND 117

Nevermore for the wrong and the woe and the fear

So hard to behold,

So cruel to bear, Piercing my soul with a double-edged sword

Of a sliding cold. 8io

Ah, Fate ! ah, me !

I shudder to see This wandering maid in her agony.

Prometheus. Grief is too quick in thee, and fear too full : Be patient till thou hast learnt the rest.

Chorus. Speak: teach. sis

To those who are sad already, it seems sweet, By clear foreknowledge to make perfect, pain.

Prometheus. The boon ye asked me first was lightly won; For first ye asked the story of this maid's grief, As her own lips might tell it. Now remains 820

To list what other sorrows she so young Must bear from Here. Inachus's child, Ο thou ! drop down thy soul my weighty words, And measure out the landmarks which are set To end thy w^andering. Toward the orient sun 825 First turn thy face from mine, and journey on Along: the desert-flats till thou shalt come Where Scythia's shepherd-peoples dwell aloft, Perched in wheeled wagons under woven roofs, And twang the rapid arrow past the bow. sso

Approach them not, but, siding in thy course The rugged shore-rocks resonant to the sea. Depart that country. On the left hand dwell The iron-workers, called the Chalybes, Of whom beware, for certes they are uncouth, 835