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.