No More Learning

_Prometheus. _ The will of Zeus,
The hand of his Hephaestus.

_Io. _ And what crime
Dost expiate so?

_Prometheus. _ Enough for thee I have told
In so much only.

_Io. _ Nay, but show besides
The limit of my wandering, and the time
Which yet is lacking to fulfil my grief.

_Prometheus. _ Why, not to know were better than to know
For such as thou.

_Io. _ Beseech thee, blind me not
To that which I must suffer.

_Prometheus. _ If I do,
The reason is not that I grudge a boon.

_Io.
_ What reason, then, prevents thy speaking out?

_Prometheus. _ No grudging; but a fear to break thine heart.

_Io. _ Less care for me, I pray thee. Certainty
I count for advantage.

_Prometheus. _ Thou wilt have it so,
And therefore I must speak. Now hear--

_Chorus. _ Not yet.
Give half the guerdon my way. Let us learn
First, what the curse is that befell the maid,--
Her own voice telling her own wasting woes:
The sequence of that anguish shall await
The teaching of thy lips.

_Prometheus. _ It doth behove
That thou, Maid Io, shouldst vouchsafe to these
The grace they pray,--the more, because they are called
Thy father's sisters: since to open out
And mourn out grief where it is possible
To draw a tear from the audience, is a work
That pays its own price well.

_Io. _ I cannot choose
But trust you, nymphs, and tell you all ye ask,
In clear words--though I sob amid my speech
In speaking of the storm-curse sent from Zeus,
And of my beauty, from what height it took
Its swoop on me, poor wretch!