The Masque Of Pandora

I     THE WORKSHOP OF HEPHAESTUS     HEPHAESTUS (standing before the statue of Pandora.)     Not fashioned out of gold, like Hera's throne,     Nor forged of iron like the thunderbolts     Of Zeus omnipotent, or other works     Wrought by my hands at Lemnos or Olympus,     But moulded in soft clay, that unresisting     Yields itself to the touch, this lovely form     Before me stands, perfect in every part.     Not Aphrodite's self appeared more fair,     When first upwafted by caressing winds     She came to high Olympus, and the gods     Paid homage to her beauty.    Thus her hair     Was cinctured; thus her floating drapery     Was like a cloud about her, and her face     Was radiant with the sunshine and the sea.     THE VOICE OF ZEUS.     Is thy work done, Hephaestus?     HEPHAESTUS.     It is finished!     THE VOICE.     Not finished till I breathe the breath of life     Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks.     HEPHAESTUS.     Will she become immortal like ourselves?     THE VOICE.     The form that thou hast fashioned out of clay     Is of the earth and mortal; but the spirit,     The life, the exhalation of my breath,     Is of diviner essence and immortal.     The gods shall shower on her their benefactions,     She shall possess all gifts: the gift of song,     The gift of eloquence, the gift of beauty,     The fascination and the nameless charm     That shall lead all men captive.     HEPHAESTUS.     Wherefore? wherefore?     (A wind shakes the house.)     I hear the rushing of a mighty wind     Through all the halls and chambers of my house!     Her parted lips inhale it, and her bosom     Heaves with the inspiration.    As a reed     Beside a river in the rippling current     Bends to and fro, she bows or lifts her head.     She gazes round about as if amazed;     She is alive; she breathes, but yet she speaks not!     (PANDORA descends from the pedestal.)     CHORUS OF THE GRACES     AGLAIA.     In the workshop of Hephaestus         What is this I see?     Have the Gods to four increased us         Who were only three?     Beautiful in form and feature,         Lovely as the day,     Can there be so fair a creature         Formed of common clay?     THALIA.     O sweet, pale face!    O lovely eyes of azure,         Clear as the waters of a brook that run         Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!         O golden hair that like a miser's treasure     In its abundance overflows the measure!         O graceful form, that cloudlike floatest on         With the soft, undulating gait of one         Who moveth as if motion were a pleasure!     By what name shall I call thee?    Nymph or Muse,         Callirrhoe or Urania?    Some sweet name         Whose every syllable is a caress     Would best befit thee; but I cannot choose,         Nor do I care to choose; for still the same,         Nameless or named, will be thy loveliness.     EUPHROSYNE.     Dowered with all celestial gifts,         Skilled in every art     That ennobles and uplifts         And delights the heart,     Fair on earth shall be thy fame         As thy face is fair,     And Pandora be the name         Thou henceforth shalt bear.     II     OLYMPUS.     HERMES (putting on his sandals.)     Much must he toil who serves the Immortal Gods,     And I, who am their herald, most of all.     No rest have I, nor respite.    I no sooner     Unclasp the winged sandals from my feet,     Than I again must clasp them, and depart     Upon some foolish errand.    But to-day     The errand is not foolish.    Never yet     With greater joy did I obey the summons     That sends me earthward.    I will fly so swiftly     That my caduceus in the whistling air     Shall make a sound like the Pandaean pipes,     Cheating the shepherds; for to-day I go,     Commissioned by high-thundering Zeus, to lead     A maiden to Prometheus, in his tower,     And by my cunning arguments persuade him     To marry her.    What mischief lies concealed     In this design I know not; but I know     Who thinks of marrying hath already taken     One step upon the road to penitence.     Such embassies delight me.    Forth I launch     On the sustaining air, nor fear to fall     Like Icarus, nor swerve aside like him     Who drove amiss Hyperion's fiery steeds.     I sink, I fly! The yielding element     Folds itself round about me like an arm,     And holds me as a mother holds her child.     III     TOWER OF PROMETHEUS ON MOUNT CAUCASUS     PROMETHEUS.     I hear the trumpet of Alectryon     Proclaim the dawn.    The stars begin to fade,     And all the heavens are full of prophecies     And evil auguries.    Blood-red last night     I saw great Kronos rise; the crescent moon     Sank through the mist, as if it were the scythe     His parricidal hand had flung far down     The western steeps.    O ye Immortal Gods,     What evil are ye plotting and contriving?     (HERMES and PANDORA at the threshold.)     PANDORA.     I cannot cross the threshold.    An unseen     And icy hand repels me.    These blank walls     Oppress me with their weight!     PROMETHEUS.     Powerful ye are,     But not omnipotent.    Ye cannot fight     Against Necessity.    The Fates control you,     As they do us, and so far we are equals!     PANDORA.     Motionless, passionless, companionless,     He sits there muttering in his beard.    His voice     Is like a river flowing underground!     HERMES.     Prometheus, hail!     PROMETHEUS.     Who calls me?     HERMES.     It is I.     Dost thou not know me?     PROMETHEUS.     By thy winged cap     And winged heels I know thee.    Thou art Hermes,     Captain of thieves!    Hast thou again been stealing     The heifers of Admetus in the sweet     Meadows of asphodel? or Hera's girdle?     Or the earth-shaking trident of Poseidon?     HERMES.     And thou, Prometheus; say, hast thou again     Been stealing fire from Helios' chariot-wheels     To light thy furnaces?     PROMETHEUS.     Why comest thou hither     So early in the dawn?     HERMES.     The Immortal Gods     Know naught of late or early.    Zeus himself     The omnipotent hath sent me.     PROMETHEUS.     For what purpose?     HERMES.     To bring this maiden to thee.     PROMETHEUS.     I mistrust     The Gods and all their gifts. If they have sent her     It is for no good purpose.     HERMES.     What disaster     Could she bring on thy house, who is a woman?     PROMETHEUS.     The Gods are not my friends, nor am I theirs.     Whatever comes from them, though in a shape     As beautiful as this, is evil only.     Who art thou?     PANDORA.     One who, though to thee unknown,     Yet knoweth thee.     PROMETHEUS.     How shouldst thou know me, woman?     PANDORA.     Who knoweth not Prometheus the humane?     PROMETHEUS.     Prometheus the unfortunate; to whom     Both Gods and men have shown themselves ungrateful.     When every spark was quenched on every hearth     Throughout the earth, I brought to man the fire     And all its ministrations.    My reward     Hath been the rock and vulture.     HERMES.     But the Gods     At last relent and pardon.     PROMETHEUS.     They relent not;     They pardon not; they are implacable,     Revengeful, unforgiving!     HERMES.     As a pledge     Of reconciliation they have sent to thee     This divine being, to be thy companion,     And bring into thy melancholy house     The sunshine and the fragrance of her youth.     PROMETHEUS.     I need them not.    I have within myself     All that my heart desires; the ideal beauty     Which the creative faculty of mind     Fashions and follows in a thousand shapes     More lovely than the real.    My own thoughts     Are my companions; my designs and labors     And aspirations are my only friends.     HERMES.     Decide not rashly.    The decision made     Can never be recalled.    The Gods implore not,     Plead not, solicit not; they only offer     Choice and occasion, which once being passed     Return no more.    Dost thou accept the gift?     PROMETHEUS.     No gift of theirs, in whatsoever shape     It comes to me, with whatsoever charm     To fascinate my sense, will I receive.     Leave me.     PANDORA.     Let us go hence.    I will not stay.     HERMES.     We leave thee to thy vacant dreams, and all     The silence and the solitude of thought,     The endless bitterness of unbelief,     The loneliness of existence without love.     CHORUS OF THE FATES     CLOTHO.     How the Titan, the defiant,     The self-centred, self-reliant,     Wrapped in visions and illusions,     Robs himself of life's best gifts!     Till by all the storm-winds shaken,     By the blast of fate o'ertaken,     Hopeless, helpless, and forsaken,     In the mists of his confusions     To the reefs of doom he drifts!     LACHESIS.     Sorely tried and sorely tempted,     From no agonies exempted,     In the penance of his trial,     And the discipline of pain;     Often by illusions cheated,     Often baffled and defeated     In the tasks to be completed,     He, by toil and self-denial,     To the highest shall attain.     ATROPOS.     Tempt no more the noble schemer;     Bear unto some idle dreamer     This new toy and fascination,     This new dalliance and delight!     To the garden where reposes     Epimetheus crowned with roses,     To the door that never closes     Upon pleasure and temptation,     Bring this vision of the night!     IV     THE AIR     HERMES (returning to Olympus.)     As lonely as the tower that he inhabits,     As firm and cold as are the crags about him,     Prometheus stands.    The thunderbolts of Zeus     Alone can move him; but the tender heart     Of Epimetheus, burning at white heat,     Hammers and flames like all his brother's forges!     Now as an arrow from Hyperion's bow,     My errand done, I fly, I float, I soar     Into the air, returning to Olympus.     O joy of motion!    O delight to cleave     The infinite realms of space, the liquid ether,     Through the warm sunshine and the cooling cloud,     Myself as light as sunbeam or as cloud!     With one touch of my swift and winged feet,     I spurn the solid earth, and leave it rocking     As rocks the bough from which a bird takes wing.     V     THE HOUSE OF EPIMETHEUS     EPIMETHEUS.     Beautiful apparition! go not hence!     Surely thou art a Goddess, for thy voice     Is a celestial melody, and thy form     Self-poised as if it floated on the air!     PANDORA.     No Goddess am I, nor of heavenly birth,     But a mere woman fashioned out of clay     And mortal as the rest.     EPIMETHEUS.     Thy face is fair;     There is a wonder in thine azure eyes     That fascinates me.    Thy whole presence seems     A soft desire, a breathing thought of love.     Say, would thy star like Merope's grow dim     If thou shouldst wed beneath thee?     PANDORA.     Ask me not;     I cannot answer thee.    I only know     The Gods have sent me hither.     EPIMETHEUS.     I believe,     And thus believing am most fortunate.     It was not Hermes led thee here, but Eros,     And swifter than his arrows were thine eyes     In wounding me.    There was no moment's space     Between my seeing thee and loving thee.     O, what a telltale face thou hast!    Again     I see the wonder in thy tender eyes.     PANDORA.     They do but answer to the love in thine,     Yet secretly I wonder thou shouldst love me.     Thou knowest me not.     EPIMETHEUS.     Perhaps I know thee better     Than had I known thee longer.    Yet it seems     That I have always known thee, and but now     Have found thee.    Ah, I have been waiting long.     PANDORA.     How beautiful is this house!    The atmosphere     Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers     Seem full of welcomes.     EPIMETHEUS.     They not only seem,     But truly are.    This dwelling and its master     Belong to thee.     PANDORA.     Here let me stay forever!     There is a spell upon me.     EPIMETHEUS.     Thou thyself     Art the enchantress, and I feel thy power     Envelop me, and wrap my soul and sense     In an Elysian dream.     PANDORA,     O, let me stay.     How beautiful are all things round about me,     Multiplied by the mirrors on the walls!     What treasures hast thou here!    Yon oaken chest,     Carven with figures and embossed with gold,     Is wonderful to look upon!    What choice     And precious things dost thou keep hidden in it?     EPIMETHEUS.     I know not.    'T is a mystery.     PANDORA.     Hast thou never     Lifted the lid?     EPIMETHEUS.     The oracle forbids.     Safely concealed there from all mortal eyes     Forever sleeps the secret of the Gods.     Seek not to know what they have hidden from thee,     Till they themselves reveal it.     PANDORA.     As thou wilt.     EPIMETHEUS.     Let us go forth from this mysterious place.     The garden walks are pleasant at this hour;     The nightingales among the sheltering boughs     Of populous and many-nested trees     Shall teach me how to woo thee, and shall tell me     By what resistless charms or incantations     They won their mates.     PANDORA.     Thou dost not need a teacher.     (They go out.)     CHORUS OF THE EUMENIDES.     What the Immortals     Confide to thy keeping,     Tell unto no man;     Waking or sleeping,     Closed be thy portals     To friend as to foeman.     Silence conceals it;     The word that is spoken     Betrays and reveals it;     By breath or by token     The charm may be broken.     With shafts of their splendors     The Gods unforgiving     Pursue the offenders,     The dead and the living!     Fortune forsakes them,     Nor earth shall abide them,     Nor Tartarus hide them;     Swift wrath overtakes them!     With useless endeavor,     Forever, forever,     Is Sisyphus rolling     His stone up the mountain!     Immersed in the fountain,     Tantalus tastes not     The water that wastes not!     Through ages increasing     The pangs that afflict him,     With motion unceasing     The wheel of Ixion     Shall torture its victim!     VI     IN THE GARDEN     EPIMETHEUS.     Yon snow-white cloud that sails sublime in ether     Is but the sovereign Zeus, who like a swan     Flies to fair-ankled Leda!     PANDORA.     Or perchance     Ixion's cloud, the shadowy shape of Hera,     That bore the Centaurs.     EPIMETHEUS.     The divine and human.     CHORUS OF BIRDS.     Gently swaying to and fro,     Rocked by all the winds that blow,     Bright with sunshine from above     Dark with shadow from below,     Beak to beak and breast to breast     In the cradle of their nest,     Lie the fledglings of our love.     ECHO.     Love! love!     EPIMETHEUS.     Hark! listen!    Hear how sweetly overhead     The feathered flute-players pipe their songs of love,     And echo answers, love and only love.     CHORUS OF BIRDS.     Every flutter of the wing,     Every note of song we sing,     Every murmur, every tone,     Is of love and love alone.     ECHO.     Love alone!     EPIMETHEUS.     Who would not love, if loving she might be     Changed like Callisto to a star in heaven?     PANDORA.     Ah, who would love, if loving she might be     Like Semele consumed and burnt to ashes?     EPIMETHEUS.     Whence knowest thou these stories?     PANDORA.     Hermes taught me;     He told me all the history of the Gods.     CHORUS OF REEDS.     Evermore a sound shall be     In the reeds of Arcady,     Evermore a low lament     Of unrest and discontent,     As the story is retold     Of the nymph so coy and cold,     Who with frightened feet outran     The pursuing steps of Pan.     EPIMETHEUS.     The pipe of Pan out of these reeds is made,     And when he plays upon it to the shepherds     They pity him, so mournful is the sound.     Be thou not coy and cold as Syrinx was.     PANDORA.     Nor thou as Pan be rude and mannerless.     PROMETHEUS (without).     Ho!    Epimetheus!     EPIMETHEUS.     'T is my brother's voice;     A sound unwelcome and inopportune     As was the braying of Silenus' ass,     Once heard in Cybele's garden.     PANDORA.     Let me go.     I would not be found here.    I would not see him.     (She escapes among the trees.)     CHORUS OF DRYADES.     Haste and hide thee,     Ere too late,     In these thickets intricate;     Lest Prometheus     See and chide thee,     Lest some hurt     Or harm betide thee,     Haste and hide thee!     PROMETHEUS (entering.)     Who was it fled from here?    I saw a shape     Flitting among the trees.     EPIMETHEUS.     It was Pandora.     PROMETHEUS.     O Epimetheus!    Is it then in vain     That I have warned thee?    Let me now implore.     Thou harborest in thy house a dangerous guest.     EPIMETHEUS.     Whom the Gods love they honor with such guests.     PROMETHEUS.     Whom the Gods would destroy they first make mad.     EPIMETHEUS.     Shall I refuse the gifts they send to me?     PROMETHEUS.     Reject all gifts that come from higher powers.     EPIMETHEUS.     Such gifts as this are not to be rejected.     PROMETHEUS.     Make not thyself the slave of any woman.     EPIMETHEUS.     Make not thyself the judge of any man.     PROMETHEUS.     I judge thee not; for thou art more than man;     Thou art descended from Titanic race,     And hast a Titan's strength, and faculties     That make thee godlike; and thou sittest here     Like Heracles spinning Omphale's flax,     And beaten with her sandals.     EPIMETHEUS.     O my brother!     Thou drivest me to madness with thy taunts.     PROMETHEUS.     And me thou drivest to madness with thy follies.     Come with me to my tower on Caucasus:     See there my forges in the roaring caverns,     Beneficent to man, and taste the joy     That springs from labor.    Read with me the stars,     And learn the virtues that lie hidden in plants,     And all things that are useful.     EPIMETHEU5.     O my brother!     I am not as thou art.    Thou dost inherit     Our father's strength, and I our mother's weakness:     The softness of the Oceanides,     The yielding nature that cannot resist.     PROMETHEUS.     Because thou wilt not.     EPIMETHEUS.     Nay; because I cannot.     PROMETHEUS.     Assert thyself; rise up to thy full height;     Shake from thy soul these dreams effeminate,     These passions born of indolence and ease.     Resolve, and thou art free.    But breathe the air     Of mountains, and their unapproachable summits     Will lift thee to the level of themselves.     EPIMETHEUS.     The roar of forests and of waterfalls,     The rushing of a mighty wind, with loud     And undistinguishable voices calling,     Are in my ear!     PROMETHEUS.     O, listen and obey.     EPIMETHEUS.     Thou leadest me as a child, I follow thee.     (They go out.)     CHORUS OF OREADES.     Centuries old are the mountains;     Their foreheads wrinkled and rifted     Helios crowns by day,     Pallid Selene by night;     From their bosoms uptossed     The snows are driven and drifted,     Like Tithonus' beard     Streaming dishevelled and white.     Thunder and tempest of wind     Their trumpets blow in the vastness;     Phantoms of mist and rain,     Cloud and the shadow of cloud,     Pass and repass by the gates     Of their inaccessible fastness;     Ever unmoved they stand,     Solemn, eternal, and proud,     VOICES OF THE WATERS.     Flooded by rain and snow     In their inexhaustible sources,     Swollen by affluent streams     Hurrying onward and hurled     Headlong over the crags,     The impetuous water-courses,     Rush and roar and plunge     Down to the nethermost world.     Say, have the solid rocks     Into streams of silver been melted,     Flowing over the plains,     Spreading to lakes in the fields?     Or have the mountains, the giants,     The ice-helmed, the forest-belted,     Scattered their arms abroad;     Flung in the meadows their shields?     VOICES OF THE WINDS.     High on their turreted cliffs     That bolts of thunder have shattered,     Storm-winds muster and blow     Trumpets of terrible breath;     Then from the gateways rush,     And before them routed and scattered     Sullen the cloud-rack flies,     Pale with the pallor of death.     Onward the hurricane rides,     And flee for shelter the shepherds;     White are the frightened leaves,     Harvests with terror are white;     Panic seizes the herds,     And even the lions and leopards,     Prowling no longer for prey,     Crouch in their caverns with fright.     VOICES OF THE FOREST.     Guarding the mountains around     Majestic the forests are standing,     Bright are their crested helms,     Dark is their armor of leaves;     Filled with the breath of freedom     Each bosom subsiding, expanding,     Now like the ocean sinks,     Now like the ocean upheaves.     Planted firm on the rock,     With foreheads stern and defiant,     Loud they shout to the winds,     Loud to the tempest they call;     Naught but Olympian thunders,     That blasted Titan and Giant,     Them can uproot and o'erthrow,     Shaking the earth with their fall.     CHORUS OF OREADES.     These are the Voices Three     Of winds and forests and fountains,     Voices of earth and of air,     Murmur and rushing of streams,     Making together one sound,     The mysterious voice of the mountains,     Waking the sluggard that sleeps,     Waking the dreamer of dreams.     These are the Voices Three,     That speak of endless endeavor,     Speak of endurance and strength,     Triumph and fulness of fame,     Sounding about the world,     An inspiration forever,     Stirring the hearts of men,     Shaping their end and their aim.     VII     THE HOUSE OF EPIMETHEUS     PANDORA.     Left to myself I wander as I will,     And as my fancy leads me, through this house,     Nor could I ask a dwelling more complete     Were I indeed the Goddess that he deems me.     No mansion of Olympus, framed to be     The habitation of the Immortal Gods,     Can be more beautiful.    And this is mine     And more than this, the love wherewith he crowns me.     As if impelled by powers invisible     And irresistible, my steps return     Unto this spacious hall.    All corridors     And passages lead hither, and all doors     But open into it.    Yon mysterious chest     Attracts and fascinates me.    Would I knew     What there lies hidden!    But the oracle     Forbids.    Ah me!    The secret then is safe.     So would it be if it were in my keeping.     A crowd of shadowy faces from the mirrors     That line these walls are watching me.    I dare not     Lift up the lid.    A hundred times the act     Would be repeated, and the secret seen     By twice a hundred incorporeal eyes.     (She walks to the other side of the hall.)     My feet are weary, wandering to and fro,     My eyes with seeing and my heart with waiting.     I will lie here and rest till he returns,     Who is my dawn, my day, my Helios.     (Throws herself upon a couch, and falls asleep.)     ZEPHYRUS.     Come from thy caverns dark and deep.     O son of Erebus and Night;     All sense of hearing and of sight     Enfold in the serene delight     And quietude of sleep!     Set all the silent sentinels     To bar and guard the Ivory Gate,     And keep the evil dreams of fate     And falsehood and infernal hate     Imprisoned in their cells.     But open wide the Gate of Horn,     Whence, beautiful as planets, rise     The dreams of truth, with starry eyes,     And all the wondrous prophecies     And visions of the morn.     CHORUS OF DREAMS FROM THE IVORY GATE.          Ye sentinels of sleep,          It is in vain ye keep     Your drowsy watch before the Ivory Gate;          Though closed the portal seems,          The airy feet of dreams     Ye cannot thus in walls incarcerate.          We phantoms are and dreams          Born by Tartarean streams,     As ministers of the infernal powers;          O son of Erebus          And Night, behold! we thus     Elude your watchful warders on the towers!          From gloomy Tartarus          The Fates have summoned us     To whisper in her ear, who lies asleep,          A tale to fan the fire          Of her insane desire     To know a secret that the Gods would keep.          This passion, in their ire,          The Gods themselves inspire,     To vex mankind with evils manifold,          So that disease and pain          O'er the whole earth may reign,     And nevermore return the Age of Gold.     PANDORA (waking).     A voice said in my sleep: "Do not delay:     Do not delay; the golden moments fly!     The oracle hath forbidden; yet not thee     Doth it forbid, but Epimetheus only!"     I am alone.    These faces in the mirrors     Are but the shadows and phantoms of myself;     They cannot help nor hinder.    No one sees me,     Save the all-seeing Gods, who, knowing good     And knowing evil, have created me     Such as I am, and filled me with desire     Of knowing good and evil like themselves.     (She approaches the chest.)     I hesitate no longer.    Weal or woe,     Or life or death, the moment shall decide.     (She lifts the lid.    A dense mist rises from     the chest, and fills the room.    PANDORA     falls senseless on the floor.    Storm without.)     CHORUS OF DREAMS FROM THE GATE OF HORN.     Yes, the moment shall decide!     It already hath decided;     And the secret once confided     To the keeping of the Titan     Now is flying far and wide,     Whispered, told on every side,     To disquiet and to frighten.     Fever of the heart and brain,     Sorrow, pestilence, and pain,     Moans of anguish, maniac laughter,     All the evils that hereafter     Shall afflict and vex mankind,     All into the air have risen     From the chambers of their prison;     Only Hope remains behind.     VIII     IN THE GARDEN     EPIMETHEUS.     The storm is past, but it hath left behind it     Ruin and desolation.    All the walks     Are strewn with shattered boughs; the birds are silent;     The flowers, downtrodden by the wind, lie dead;     The swollen rivulet sobs with secret pain,     The melancholy reeds whisper together     As if some dreadful deed had been committed     They dare not name, and all the air is heavy     With an unspoken sorrow!    Premonitions,     Foreshadowings of some terrible disaster     Oppress my heart.    Ye Gods, avert the omen!     PANDORA (coming from the house).     O Epimetheus, I no longer dare     To lift mine eyes to thine, nor hear thy voice,     Being no longer worthy of thy love.     EPIMETHEUS.     What hast thou done?     PANDORA.     Forgive me not, but kill me.     EPIMETHEUS.     What hast thou done?     PANDORA.     I pray for death, not pardon.     EPIMETHEUS.     What hast thou done?     PANDORA.     I dare not speak of it.     EPIMETHEUS.     Thy pallor and thy silence terrify me!     PANDORA.     I have brought wrath and ruin on thy house!     My heart hath braved the oracle that guarded     The fatal secret from us, and my hand     Lifted the lid of the mysterious chest!     EPIMETHEUS.     Then all is lost!    I am indeed undone.     PANDORA.     I pray for punishment, and not for pardon.     EPIMETHEUS.     Mine is the fault not thine.    On me shall fall     The vengeance of the Gods, for I betrayed     Their secret when, in evil hour, I said     It was a secret; when, in evil hour,     I left thee here alone to this temptation.     Why did I leave thee?     PANDORA.     Why didst thou return?     Eternal absence would have been to me     The greatest punishment.    To be left alone     And face to face with my own crime, had been     Just retribution.    Upon me, ye Gods,     Let all your vengeance fall!     EPIMETHEUS.     On thee and me.     I do not love thee less for what is done,     And cannot be undone.    Thy very weakness     Hath brought thee nearer to me, and henceforth     My love will have a sense of pity in it,     Making it less a worship than before.     PANDORA.     Pity me not; pity is degradation.     Love me and kill me.     EPIMETHEUS.     Beautiful Pandora!     Thou art a Goddess still!     PANDORA.     I am a woman;     And the insurgent demon in my nature,     That made me brave the oracle, revolts     At pity and compassion.    Let me die;     What else remains for me?     EPIMETHEUS.     Youth, hope, and love:     To build a new life on a ruined life,     To make the future fairer than the past,     And make the past appear a troubled dream.     Even now in passing through the garden walks     Upon the ground I saw a fallen nest     Ruined and full of rain; and over me     Beheld the uncomplaining birds already     Busy in building a new habitation.     PANDORA.     Auspicious omen!     EPIMETHEUS.     May the Eumenides     Put out their torches and behold us not,     And fling away their whips of scorpions     And touch us not.     PANDORA.     Me let them punish.     Only through punishment of our evil deeds,     Only through suffering, are we reconciled     To the immortal Gods and to ourselves.     CHORUS OF THE EUMENIDES.          Never shall souls like these          Escape the Eumenides,     The daughters dark of Acheron and Night!          Unquenched our torches glare,          Our scourges in the air     Send forth prophetic sounds before they smite.          Never by lapse of time          The soul defaced by crime     Into its former self returns again;          For every guilty deed          Holds in itself the seed     Of retribution and undying pain.          Never shall be the loss          Restored, till Helios     Hath purified them with his heavenly fires;          Then what was lost is won,          And the new life begun,     Kindled with nobler passions and desires.