Spreads its benignant shade: too well already
I see my fate; more knowledge would but show
New horrors; and yet, spite of all my woes,
Urged on by fatal curiosity,
I thirst for more: I cannot bear to rest
In sad suspense: to doubt is to be wretched:
I dread the torch that lights me to my ruin:
I fear to know myself, yet cannot long
Remain unknown.

Surprising! sure the more I look, the more——
'Tis he, my lord, it must be he.

'Tis he, my lord, it must be he. Forgive me [To Icarus
If still that face unknown——

If still that face unknown—— Dost thou remember?
On mount Citheron——

On mount Citheron—— How! The child you gave me,
The child to death——