“Hermes! How…unexpected.” Epimetheus grimaced as he opened the door.
“Yes, just thought I’d pop by. See how thing are going.”
“Well do come in, can’t have you hopping about on my doorstep like that. And what’s that you’ve got behind you? It looks awfully intriguing.”
“Indeed. This is something we’ve just created. Hot off the production line. It’s a ‘fe-male’. Like you, but with other bits and pieces, which I’ll let you find out in your own good time.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Yes – Pandora. Come, show yourself my dear. Don’t be shy. That’s it. Let him get a good look at you.”
“Pandora you say?” Epimetheus looked at the strange creation and felt a strange feeling in his heart. He was suddenly lost for words.
“We’re thinking of mass producing them but wanted to do some market research first,” continued Hermes. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, she’s…erm. She’s certainly. Yes definitely. I mean, I don’t really know. Pandora you say? I’m not exactly sure what I’ll do with…but I certainly could.”
“Excellent,” said Hermes, pushing Pandora into the house. “You’ll be married in a couple of days.”
“Married?!” Epimetheus stuttered. “But…why me?”
“Well Zeus felt a little bit guilty about the incident with your brother, Prometheus.”
“Chaining him to a rock and sending an eagle to eat his liver every day for eternity?”
“Yes, that whole messy business, and by way of an apology he’s made the beautiful Pandora your bride.”
“Can he not free my brother from his eternal torture instead?”
“…so you’ll be getting married in a couple of days anyway. Lots of planning to do. I’ll leave you two alone to get cracking.” Hermes turned to leave. “Oh, silly me. I nearly forgot! Your wedding present.” Hermes handed Epimetheus a large, plain looking clay jar.
“Thank you,” said Epimetheus, trying to hide his disappointment. “You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have.”
“Not a problem. A couple of things to mention. Bury it in the bottom of your garden and, whatever you do, never, ever, open it.”
“What is the point of it exactly if I…”
“Must dash. Lots of messages to send. Toodlepips.” Hermes winged sandals fluttered and he disappeared in an instant.
“How very strange,” muttered Epimetheus to himself before turning to his new bride.
“Hello,” she said, and Epimetheus lost himself in her eyes. The wedding present sat forgotten in the doorway.
*
“Whatever happened to that jar dear?” Pandora asked whilst knitting her beloved Epimetheus a new cardigan.
“What jar?”
“The one Hermes brought with him when we first met.”
“Oh that old thing. They could have bought us something a little more useful couldn’t they. A coffee-maker or some towels or something. They are Gods after-all.”
“Hush dear, they might hear you. But what happened to it?”
“I buried it like he said, right at the bottom of the garden near the old oak tree. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, it keeps popping into my head is all.”
“Yes, well, better left alone if you ask me. Before Prometheus was sent to be tortured for the rest of his life he said ‘brother, whatever you do, don’t trust those Gods’ so I’m going to leave well enough alone.”
“But surely if we shouldn’t trust them, we should do the opposite of what they said.”
“No, Pandora.”
“Just a little peak at it. I’ve not really seen it.”
“No.”
“I could just…”
“No.”
“Not even a little, tiny…”
“No.”
“You’re no fun,” moaned Pandora.
As they slept that night, the jar kept returning to Pandora’s thoughts. It was in her mind as she laid in bed and when sleep finally arrived it came to her in her dreams. She was woken by Epimetheus’ loud snoring and decided that the only way to rid her mind of it was to take a little look at it. She didn’t have to open it; she could just dig it up.
Pandora put on her dressing gown and found the old oak tree that Epimetheus had mentioned. Taking a spade that had been conveniently left by the tree she began to dig until she hit the jar, chipping a piece off. “Bugger,” she whispered.
The jar looked plain, just like all the other jars they had in the house. What an unusual gift! There must be something special inside. Looking around to make sure she was alone, Pandora gently lifted the lid.
An explosion knocked Pandora off her feet. The lid flew off and out came sorrow and hunger and conflict. Pandora shrieked.
“Pandora!?” Epimetheus had been woken by the noise and was running down the garden path.
“Oh bugger,” said Pandora as disease and famine escaped.
“Pandora what have you done! Put the lid back on. Where’s the lid?”
Pandora searched desperately for the lid and found it in the rose garden.
“PUT THE LID ON!” screamed Epimetheus.
Pandora managed to put the lid back on, noticing that it was almost empty. “At least we know what was in it now,” she tried.
“Do you think you managed to contain most of it?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Good. Bury it again, and let’s never talk of this again. Hopefully no-one will notice...”
And so Pandora buried the jar, having managed to contain just one thing: hope.
“Yes, just thought I’d pop by. See how thing are going.”
“Well do come in, can’t have you hopping about on my doorstep like that. And what’s that you’ve got behind you? It looks awfully intriguing.”
“Indeed. This is something we’ve just created. Hot off the production line. It’s a ‘fe-male’. Like you, but with other bits and pieces, which I’ll let you find out in your own good time.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Yes – Pandora. Come, show yourself my dear. Don’t be shy. That’s it. Let him get a good look at you.”
“Pandora you say?” Epimetheus looked at the strange creation and felt a strange feeling in his heart. He was suddenly lost for words.
“We’re thinking of mass producing them but wanted to do some market research first,” continued Hermes. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, she’s…erm. She’s certainly. Yes definitely. I mean, I don’t really know. Pandora you say? I’m not exactly sure what I’ll do with…but I certainly could.”
“Excellent,” said Hermes, pushing Pandora into the house. “You’ll be married in a couple of days.”
“Married?!” Epimetheus stuttered. “But…why me?”
“Well Zeus felt a little bit guilty about the incident with your brother, Prometheus.”
“Chaining him to a rock and sending an eagle to eat his liver every day for eternity?”
“Yes, that whole messy business, and by way of an apology he’s made the beautiful Pandora your bride.”
“Can he not free my brother from his eternal torture instead?”
“…so you’ll be getting married in a couple of days anyway. Lots of planning to do. I’ll leave you two alone to get cracking.” Hermes turned to leave. “Oh, silly me. I nearly forgot! Your wedding present.” Hermes handed Epimetheus a large, plain looking clay jar.
“Thank you,” said Epimetheus, trying to hide his disappointment. “You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have.”
“Not a problem. A couple of things to mention. Bury it in the bottom of your garden and, whatever you do, never, ever, open it.”
“What is the point of it exactly if I…”
“Must dash. Lots of messages to send. Toodlepips.” Hermes winged sandals fluttered and he disappeared in an instant.
“How very strange,” muttered Epimetheus to himself before turning to his new bride.
“Hello,” she said, and Epimetheus lost himself in her eyes. The wedding present sat forgotten in the doorway.
*
“Whatever happened to that jar dear?” Pandora asked whilst knitting her beloved Epimetheus a new cardigan.
“What jar?”
“The one Hermes brought with him when we first met.”
“Oh that old thing. They could have bought us something a little more useful couldn’t they. A coffee-maker or some towels or something. They are Gods after-all.”
“Hush dear, they might hear you. But what happened to it?”
“I buried it like he said, right at the bottom of the garden near the old oak tree. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, it keeps popping into my head is all.”
“Yes, well, better left alone if you ask me. Before Prometheus was sent to be tortured for the rest of his life he said ‘brother, whatever you do, don’t trust those Gods’ so I’m going to leave well enough alone.”
“But surely if we shouldn’t trust them, we should do the opposite of what they said.”
“No, Pandora.”
“Just a little peak at it. I’ve not really seen it.”
“No.”
“I could just…”
“No.”
“Not even a little, tiny…”
“No.”
“You’re no fun,” moaned Pandora.
As they slept that night, the jar kept returning to Pandora’s thoughts. It was in her mind as she laid in bed and when sleep finally arrived it came to her in her dreams. She was woken by Epimetheus’ loud snoring and decided that the only way to rid her mind of it was to take a little look at it. She didn’t have to open it; she could just dig it up.
Pandora put on her dressing gown and found the old oak tree that Epimetheus had mentioned. Taking a spade that had been conveniently left by the tree she began to dig until she hit the jar, chipping a piece off. “Bugger,” she whispered.
The jar looked plain, just like all the other jars they had in the house. What an unusual gift! There must be something special inside. Looking around to make sure she was alone, Pandora gently lifted the lid.
An explosion knocked Pandora off her feet. The lid flew off and out came sorrow and hunger and conflict. Pandora shrieked.
“Pandora!?” Epimetheus had been woken by the noise and was running down the garden path.
“Oh bugger,” said Pandora as disease and famine escaped.
“Pandora what have you done! Put the lid back on. Where’s the lid?”
Pandora searched desperately for the lid and found it in the rose garden.
“PUT THE LID ON!” screamed Epimetheus.
Pandora managed to put the lid back on, noticing that it was almost empty. “At least we know what was in it now,” she tried.
“Do you think you managed to contain most of it?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Good. Bury it again, and let’s never talk of this again. Hopefully no-one will notice...”
And so Pandora buried the jar, having managed to contain just one thing: hope.
John William Waterhouse's "Pandora"
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