Seite 3 von 8
Act III
Io, Prometheus and the Chorus
Buch kaufen
IO: What country? What race? who is he,
This man, whom, rock-bound, I survey,
Storm-battered? What trespass hath thee
Thus doomed to destruction? Oh, say,
To what region of earth have I wandered, forlorn?
Ah me! The dire anguish! Ah me!
Again the barbed pest doth assail!
Thou phantom of Argos, earth-born;
Avert him, O earth! Ah, I quail,
The herdsman beholding with myriad eyes.
With crafty look, onward, still onward he hies;
Not even in death is he hid 'neath the earth;
But, e'en from the shades coming back,
He hounds me, forlorn one, in anguish of dearth,
To roam by the sea-waves' salt track.
Still droneth the wax-moulded reed,
Shrill-piping, a sleep-breathing strain.
Ah me! The dire anguish! Woe! Woe!
Ah, whither on earth do these far-roamings lead?
What trespass canst find, son of Kronos, in me,
That thou yokest me ever to pain?
Woe! Ah, woe!
And wherefore with brize-driven fear torture so
A wretchèd one, phrenzied in brain?
Oh burn me with fire, or o'erwhelm 'neath the soil,
Or fling me to ravenous beasts of the sea.
Begrudge not, O lord! to my prayers to give heed.
Enough hath out-worn me my much-roaming toil.
Nor wist I from torment how may I be freed.
The voice dost thou hear of the cow-horned maid?
[...] Whence know'st thou to speak my sire's name?
Oh answer a wretched one's prayer;—
Ah me! the dire anguish! Woe! Woe!
Who art thou, poor wretch, who dost truly proclaim
My plague, with its phrenzying torture, that came
From Zeus and doth sting to despair?
Woe! ah woe!
With boundings, by food-craving anguish pursued,
On rushing with passionate throe,
By wrathful devices of Hera subdued,
I come. Of the wretched are any who know
Such pangs as I suffer? But now by clear sign,
Reveal what for me yet remaineth to bear;
What cure for my plague. If such knowledge be thine,
Forthwith to the sad-roaming maiden declare.
