61

Chorus: Speak, instruct me; to the sick it is solace clearly
to fathom the course of their illness.

Prometheus: Your previous request has been quickly ob.-
tained, for you desired first to learn from Io’s lips the tale
of her ordeal; but hearken, mark the march of pain succeed-
ing pain which Hera will impose upon this tender maid—
you, Inachus’ daughter—hold my words close to your
heart, that you may learn the tokens of your journey’s end.
First turn yourself toward the rising sun and trace your steps
over fields untilled, when you shall come to Scythian no-
mads, who, aloft on wagon wheels, in woven cabins rudely live;
far-darting bows accouter them, so draw away, and push
beyond this sullen host; then guide your feet along the rug-
ged rocks which touch the rasping sea—on the left hand
dwell the Chalybes, who work in iron, a savage race repelling
strangers, so be wary all the while; next will you reach Hy-
bristes’ stream—a torrent not unjustly named—cross it
not, it is hard to cross, until you arrive at Caucasus, whose tops
top all the other peaks, and the river spews its might and
main from out the mountain’s very brow; its star-bordered
crest you must overleap then straightway cleave a southward
path, making your way to the maiden band of furious, man-
hating Amazons. Someday Themiscyra they will settle, a place
on the Thermodon, where Salmydessus’ jagged jaws—
stepmother of gallant ships—await the mariner with evil
entertainment, but the maidens will gladly guide you on
your way. At the portals of the mere making passage narrow
you will find Cimmerian isthmus, but this you must abandon
and boldly plunge into Maeotic channel. The story of your
crossing there will be renowned for ever more and men will call
it Bosphorus. Then leaving European soil over Asia you will