And with dishonor and dire insult loads thee.
Unfold the tale; unless, perhaps, such sorrow
Irks thee to tell.
Prometheus.
To tell or not to tell
Irks me the same; which way I turn is pain.
When first the gods their fatal strife began,
And insurrection raged in Heaven—some striving
To cast old Kronos from his hoary throne,
That Jove might reign, and others to crush i’ the bud