Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/47

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It is ordained so.

Io. What is this thou sayest—

A son of mine shall loose thee from thy woe?

Prometheus. After ten generations, count three more,

And find him in the third.

Io. The oracle

Remains obscure.

Prometheus. And search it not, to learn

Thine own griefs from it.

Io. Point me not to a good,

To leave me straight bereaved.

Prometheus. I am prepared

To grant thee one of two things.

Io. But which two?

Set them before me—grant me power to choose.

Prometheus. I grant it—choose—if I shall name aloud

What griefs remain to wound thee, or what hand

Shall save me out of mine.

Chorus. Vouchsafe, O god,

The one grace of the twain to her who prays,

The next to me—and turn back neither prayer

Dishonored by denial. Thus, to her,

Declare the future wandering of her feet—

Then point me to the looser of thy chain—

Because I yearn to know it.

Prometheus. Since ye will,

Of absolute will, this knowledge, I will set

No contrary against it, nor keep back

A word of all ye ask for. Io, first

To thee I must recount thy wandering course

Far winding; as I tell it, write it down

In thy soul's book of memories. When thou hast past