uman race beyond what is profitable, nor
disregard thyself in thy distress: since I have good hopes that thou
shalt yet be liberated from these shackles, and be not one whit less
powerful than Jove.

PR. Not at all in this way is Fate, that brings events to their
consummation ordained to accomplish these things: but after having been
bent by countless sufferings and calamities, thus am I to escape from my
shackles. And art is far less powerful than necessity.

CH. Who then is the pilot of necessity?

PR. The triform Fates and the remembering Furies.

CH. Is Jupiter then less powerful than these?

PR. Most certainly he can not at any rate escape his doom.[43]

CH. Why, what is doomed for Jupiter but to reign for evermore?

PR. This thou mayest not yet learn, and do not press it.

CH. 'Tis surely some solemn mystery that thou veilest.

PR. Make mention of some other matter; it is by no means seasonable to
proclaim this; but it must be shrouded in deepest concealment; for it is
by keeping this secret that I am to escape from my ignominious shackles
and miseries.

CH. Never may Jupiter, who directs all things, set his might in
opposition to my purpose: nor may I be backward in attending upon the
gods at their hallowed banquets, at which oxen are sacrificed, beside
the restless stream of my sire Ocean; and may I not trespass in my
words; but may this feeling abide by me and never melt away. Sweet it is
to pass through a long life in confident hopes, making the spirits swell
with bright merriment; but I shudder as I behold thee harrowed by
agonies incalculable.... For not standing in awe of Jupiter, thou,
Prometheus, in thy self-will honorest mortals to excess. Come, my
friend, own how boonless was the boon; say where is any aid? What relief
can come from the creatures of a day? Sawest thou not the powerless
weakness, nought better than a dream, in which the blind race of men is
entangled? Never shall at any time the schemes of mortals evade the
harmonious system of Jupiter. This I learned by witnessing thy
destructive fate, Prometheus. And far different is this strain that now
flits toward me from the hymenaeal chant which I raised around the baths
and thy couch with the consent[44] of nuptials, when, after having won
Hesione with thy love-tokens, thou didst conduct her our sister to be
thy bride, the sharer of thy bed.

_Enter_ IO.[45]

What land is this? what race? whom shall I say I here behold
storm-toss