My father’s name thou know’st, and my descent!
Who art thou? god or mortal? Speak! what charm
Gives wretch like thee, the certain clue to know
My lamentable fate?
Aye, and the god-sent plague thou know’st; the sting
That spurs me o’er the far-stretched Earth; the goad
That mads me sheer, wastes, withers, and consumes,
A worn and famished maid,
Whipt by the scourge of jealous Hera’s wrath!
Ah me! ah me! Misery has many shapes,