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VIII. In the Garden, The Masque of Pandora
EPIMETHEUS.The storm is past, but it hath left behind itRuin and desolation. All the walksAre 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 togetherAs if some dreadful deed had been committedThey dare not name, and all the air is heavyWith an unspoken sorrow! Premonitions,Foreshadowings of some terrible disasterOppress my heart. Ye Gods, avert the omen! PANDORA (coming from the house).O Epimetheus, I no longer dareTo 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 guardedThe fatal secret from us, and my handLifted 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 fallThe vengeance of the Gods, for I betrayedTheir secret when, in evil hour, I saidIt 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 meThe greatest punishment. To be left aloneAnd face to face with my own crime, had beenJust 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 weaknessHath brought thee nearer to me, and henceforthMy 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, revoltsAt 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 walksUpon the ground I saw a fallen nestRuined and full of rain; and over meBeheld the uncomplaining birds alreadyBusy in building a new habitation. PANDORA.Auspicious omen! EPIMETHEUS. May the EumenidesPut out their torches and behold us not,And fling away their whips of scorpionsAnd touch us not. PANDORA. Me let them punish.Only through punishment of our evil deeds,Only through suffering, are we reconciledTo 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 airSend forth prophetic sounds before they smite. Never by lapse of time The soul defaced by crimeInto its former self returns again; For every guilty deed Holds in itself the seedOf retribution and undying pain. Never shall be the loss Restored, till HeliosHath purified them with his heavenly fires; Then what was lost is won, And the new life begun,Kindled with nobler passions and desires.