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your mind by his stroke and caress unterrifying, to beget there-
by a child, your swarthy son Epaphus, named from Zeus’ en-
gendering touch. He will gather the flowers and fruits of the
flat lands the Nile waters nourish, and five generations later
a band of fifty maidens sprung from him will flee to Argive
shores again, involuntary exiles, sped by fear of marriage
with their kin—fifty cousins fierce with lust, pursuing their
illicit chase like falcons following fast on doves. Yet the god
will give them no joy, he will grudge them their prey, and
Pelasgia will entertain these maids fear spurred to virile bold-
ness. Then deep and turbid midnight watches will bode man’s
murder, for each bride will bereave her husband of breath
by plunging a double-edged blade in his breast. If Cypris would
thus cut down my foes! But love will melt the wrath of one
maid and she will not destroy her lord; or, love will sully her
resolve, for she will choose as recreant, rather, to be remem-
bered, than to wear the stained mame of murderess.

She will give birth to a kingly race on Argive earth, but this
account requires another lengthy discourse. Yet, from her seed
there will be born that bold and staiwart man renowned for
his bow, Heracies, and he will come as my deliverer. This is
the oracle my mother, Titan Themis, told to me, with the
manner and means, but the knowledge would nothing you
avail, and besides, it is a long and intricate tale.

(lo utters a priercing cry and begins her reckless descent of the
rock.)

Io: Eleleu! Eleleu! Once again convuisive pain and mad.-
ness masters me. The gadfiy’s dart—a dart unfired—instills
my mind with flame. My heart with terror tensing lacerates
my sides and my eyes are rolled around and round without

control, for the breath of madness blows me off my course
and swells my unruled tongue into a stream of sluggish words

which stumble in disorder against dark ruin’s onsurge! (exit)