The Masque of Pandora Read Online

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.

Epimetheus.

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.

Oh 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 Forests.

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 be 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 thy 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.