FROM men the source of life has been hidden well. Else you would lightly do enough work in a day to keep you the rest of the year while you lounged at play. Over the smoke you'd store your rudder in haste, no oxen or sturdy mules would reclaim the waste. But the source was hidden by Zeus, in the rage of his heart, because Prometheus tricked him with cunning art. Therefore he planned for men a grief and a bane. Fire he concealed. But the good Prometheus again stole it from counsellor Zeus in a hollow reed -- stole it for men while the Thunderer paid no heed. Then Zeus, who gathers the clouds, in anger cried: 'Son of Iapetos, craftiest one, in your pride you rejoice at your theft, you have made me a thing of your scorn, and won a plague for yourself and for men yet unborn. For I shall give men an evil as price of fire: they will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.' So cried the Father of gods and men, and laughed. He bade Hephaistos to mingle clay with craft, giving it power of limb and speech, and to trace the tender and darling shape of a girl with the face of a goddess. Athene he bade to add to the mould all skill with the needle and loom; Aphrodite the Gold to shed on the image, along with the gifts that please, cruel lust, and shattering anxieties. And Hermes, the Guide, the Slayer of Argos, he bade to fix a deceitful heart in the shameless maid. So the son of Kronos spoke, and they turned to obey. At once the famous Lame-god moulded the clay till the shape of a modest maiden was duly shown. Bright-eyed Athene draped her and fastened the zone. The Graces and lady Persuasion laced her with gold, and the Hours, who came with their lovely tresses, were told to deck her with flowers of the spring as a garlanded bride. And the Herald of gods, the Slayer of Argos, the Guide, put lies and intricate cunning and lack of shame deep in her heart, and gave her @3Pandora@1 for name, for all the Olympian gods had their bounty shed -- a dower of plagues for mortals, eaters of bread. When the image was made, a sheer inescapable snare, the Father sent Hermes (who swiftly wings through the air, the Argos-slayer) to offer the maid thus adorned to Epimetheus, who forgot what his brother had warned: 'Accept no gift from Zeus. Be sure to refuse, for something harmful to mortals may lurk in the ruse.' O he took the gift, and through suffering learned what he'd done. Till now in peace all the days of the earth had run; the tribes of men had been saved from the toil that drives, and disease that flings the swarming Fates on our lives. But Pandora lifted the jar's great lid, and then its plagues were scattered abroad, with mischief for men. Only Hope remained, entrapped for evermore, under the rim of the jar; through the open door she'd failed to escape; and now she's imprisoned fast. All else, a numberless plague, on the world were cast, and earth is full of evil, and full is the sea, by day diseases are here, and the night's not free -- countless, assailing our lives, forever they come in silence; for Zeus in his wisdom left them dumb. |