49
CHORUS.
Woe! woe! Oh keep her still!
Alas! oh never, never, had we thought
That tale so strange as this is should be brought 705 (708)
To our ears,
Nor that woes and pains and fears
Sad to bear and sad to see should thus
With a two-edged goading chill
The heart in us. 710 (712)
Woe! woe! Oh fate! oh fate!
We shiver looking upon Io's state.
Prometheus.
Too soon ye make lament and are afraid;
Refrain until ye have been told the rest.
Chorus.
Speak, show the whole; 'tis good for the afflicted 715 (717)
Fully to apprehend the coming griefs.
Prometheus.
Lightly ye won from me your former wish,
For first ye sought to hear her history
Of her own trials. And now hear the rest,
