PROMETHEUS AND PANDORA

Theogony & Works and Days

Hesiod

Translated by Richmond Lattimore, 1959

There was no one quite like Prometheus. A Titan, or giant, he stole fire from the gods, and gave it to mankind. The seventh-century BC poet Hesiod told his story across two poems, the Theogony and Works and Days. On the one hand Prometheus’ gift of fire was a blessing for humans since it enabled them to live self-sufficiently from the gods. On the other, it spelled the end of their Golden Age, in which they had lived happy lives free from work and suffering. Another consequence of Prometheus’ actions was the creation of the first woman, Pandora (‘all-gifted’). Epimetheus, Prometheus’ less intelligent brother, was quick to fall for her charms.

Theogony

for Prometheus once had matched wits
against the great son of Kronos.

It was when gods, and mortal men,
took their separate positions

at Mekone, and Prometheus,
eager to try his wits, cut up

a great ox, and set it before Zeus,
to see if he could outguess him.

He took the meaty parts and the inwards
thick with fat, and set them

before men, hiding them away
in an ox’s stomach,

but the white bones of the ox he arranged,
with careful deception,

inside a concealing fold of white fat,
and set it before Zeus.

At last the father of gods
and men spoke to him, saying:

“Son of Iapetos, conspicuous among all Kings,

old friend, oh how prejudicially
you divided the portions.”

So Zeus, who knows imperishable counsels,
spoke in displeasure,

but Prometheus the devious-deviser,
lightly smiling,

answered him again, quite well aware
of his artful deception:

“Zeus most high, most honored
among the gods everlasting,

choose whichever of these the heart within
would have you.”

He spoke, with intent to deceive, and Zeus,
who knows imperishable

counsels, saw it, the trick
did not escape him, he imagined

evils for mortal men in his mind,
and meant to fulfil them.

In both his hands he took up the portion
of the white fat. Anger

rose up about his heart
and the spite mounted in his spirit

when he saw the white bones of the ox
in deceptive arrangement.

Ever since that time the races of mortal men
on earth have burned

the white bones to the immortals
on the smoky altars.

Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer
in great vexation said to him:

“Son of Iapetos, versed in planning
beyond all others,

old friend, so after all you did not forget
your treachery.”

So Zeus, who knows imperishable counsels,
spoke in his anger,

and ever remembering this deception
thereafter, he would not

give the force of weariless fire
to the ash-tree people,

not to people who inhabit the earth
and are mortal,

no, but the strong son of Iapetos
outwitted him

and stole the far-seen glory
of weariless fire, hiding it

in the hollow fennel stalk;
this bit deep into the feeling

of Zeus who thunders on high,
and it galled the heart inside him

when he saw the far-seen glory of fire
among mortal people,

and next, for the price of the fire,
be made an evil thing for mankind.

Works and Days

He told glorious Hephaistos to make haste, and plaster

earth with water, and to infuse it with a human voice

and vigor, and make the face
like the immortal goddesses,

the bewitching features of a young girl;
meanwhile Athene

was to teach her her skills, and how
to do the intricate weaving,

while Aphrodite was to mist her head
in golden endearment

and the cruelty of desire and longings
that wear out the body,

but to Hermes, the guide, the slayer of Argos,
he gave instructions

to put in her the mind of a hussy,
and a treacherous nature.

So Zeus spoke. And all obeyed Lord Zeus,
the son of Kronos.

The renowned strong smith modeled her figure of earth,
in the likeness

of a decorous young girl, as the son of Kronos
had wished it.

The goddess gray-eyed Athene dressed and arrayed her;
the Graces,

who are goddesses, and hallowed Persuasion
put necklaces

of gold upon her body, while the Seasons,
with glorious tresses,

put upon her head a coronal of spring flowers,

[and Pallas Athene put all decor upon her body].

But into her heart Hermes, the guide,
the slayer of Argos,

put lies, and wheedling words
of falsehood, and a treacherous nature,

made her as Zeus of the deep thunder wished,
and he, the gods’ herald,

put a voice inside her, and gave her
the name of woman,

Pandora, because all the gods
who have their homes on Olympos

had given her each a gift, to be a sorrow to men

who eat bread. Now when he had done
with this sheer, impossible

deception, the Father sent the gods’ fleet messenger,
Hermes,

to Epimetheus, bringing her, a gift,
nor did Epimetheus

remember to think how Prometheus had told him never

to accept a gift from Olympian Zeus,
but always to send it

back, for fear it might prove
to be an evil for mankind.

He took the evil, and only perceived it
when he possessed her.
Since before this time the races of men
had been living on earth

free from all evils, free from laborious work,
and free from

all wearing sicknesses that bring
their fates down on men

[for men grow old suddenly
in the midst of misfortune];

but the woman, with her hands lifting away the lid
from the great jar,

scattered its contents, and her design
was sad troubles for mankind.

Hope was the only spirit that stayed there
in the unbreakable

closure of the jar, under its rim,
and could not fly forth

abroad, for the lid of the great jar
closed down first and contained her;

this was by the will of cloud-gathering Zeus
of the aegis;

Theogony

And in ineluctable, painful bonds
he fastened Prometheus

of the subtle mind, for he drove a stanchion
through his middle. Also

he let loose on him the wing-spread eagle,
and it was feeding

on his imperishable liver, which by night
would grow back

to size from what the spread-winged bird
had eaten in the daytime.