Io
What profit then is life to me? Ah, why
Did I not cast me from this stubborn crag?
So, with one spring, one crash upon the ground,
I had attained surcease from all my woes.
Better it is to die one death outright
Than linger out long life in misery.
Prometheus
Ill would'st thou bear these agonies of mine—
Mine, with whose fate it standeth not to win
The goal of death, which were release from pain!
Now, there is set no limit to my woe
Till Zeus be hurled from his omnipotence.
Io
Zeus hurled from pride of place! Can such things be?
Prometheus
Thou wert full fain, methinks, to see that sight!
Io
Even so—his overthrow who wrought my pain.
Prometheus
Then may'st thou know thereof; such fall shall be.
Io
And who shall wrench the sceptre from his hand?
