Mythos: A Retelling of the Myths of Ancient Greece

It was not long before Zeus chanced to look down from Olympus and saw points of dancing orange light dotting the landscape all around. He knew at once what had happened. Nor did he need to be told who was responsible. His anger was swift and terrible. Never had such almighty, such tumultuous, such apocalyptic fury been witnessed. Not even Ouranos in his mutilated agony had been so filled with vengeful rage. Ouranos was brought low by a son he had no regard for, but Zeus had been betrayed by the friend he loved most. No betrayal could be more terrible.

The Punishments

The Gift

Zeus’s wrath was so overwhelming that all Olympus feared Prometheus would be blasted with such power that his atoms would never reassemble. It is possible that just such a fate might have befallen the once-favoured Titan had not the wise and stabilizing presence of Metis inside Zeus’s head counselled a subtler and more dignified revenge. The intensity of his rage was in no way dimmed, but rather it was now focussed, channelled into clearer lines of retribution. He would leave Prometheus for the time being and unleash his cosmic fury upon man, puny impudent man, the creature he had taken such delight in and for whom now he felt nothing but resentment and cold contempt.

For a whole week, watched by a grave and concerned Athena, the King of the Gods paced up and down in front of his throne considering how best humans should pay for daring to appropriate fire, for presuming to ape the Olympians. A voice within him seemed to whisper that one day, no matter what vengeance he took, mankind would reach ever upwards until they came level with the gods – or, perhaps more terribly, until they no longer needed the gods and felt free to abandon them. No more worship, no more prayers sent up to heavenly Olympus. The prospect was too blasphemous and absurd for Zeus to entertain, but the fact that such a scandalous idea could even enter his mind served only to fuel his rage.

Whether the magnificent scheme that was finally put into operation was his or Metis’s or even Athena’s is unclear, but it was, Zeus believed, a screamer of a plan. There was a golden symmetry to it that appealed to his very Greek mind. He would show Prometheus and, by heaven, he would show mankind.

First he commanded Hephaestus to do as Prometheus had done, to shape a human being from clay moistened by his spittle. But this was to be the figure of a young female. Taking his wife Aphrodite, his mother Hera, his aunt Demeter and his sister Athena as models, Hephaestus lovingly sculpted a girl of quite marvellous beauty into whom Aphrodite then breathed life and all the arts of love.

The other gods joined together to equip this girl uniquely for the world. Athena trained her in the household crafts, embroidery and weaving, and dressed her in a glorious silver robe. The Charites were put in charge of accessorizing this with necklaces, brooches and bracelets of the finest pearl, agate, jasper and chalcedony. The Horai plaited flowers around her hair until she was so beautiful that all who saw her caught their breath. Hera endowed her with poise and self-possession. Hermes schooled her in speech and the arts of deception, curiosity and cunning. And he gave her a name. Since each of the gods had conferred upon her a notable talent or accomplishment, she was to be called ‘All-Gifted’, which in Greek is PANDORA.fn1

Hephaestus bestowed one more gift upon this paragon, which Zeus presented himself. It was a container filled with … secrets.

Now, you probably think I am going to say the container was a box, or perhaps a chest of some description, but in fact it was the kind of glazed and sealed earthenware jar that is known in Grecian lands as a pithos.fn2

‘Here you are, my dear,’ said Zeus. ‘Now, this is purely decorative. You are never ever to open it. You understand?’

Pandora shook her lovely head. ‘Never,’ she breathed with great sincerity. ‘Never!’

‘There’s a good girl. It is your wedding gift. Bury it deep below your marriage bed, but you must not open it. Ever. What it contains … well, never mind. Nothing of interest to you at all.’

Hermes took Pandora by the hand and transported her to the little stone house where Prometheus and his brother Epimetheus lived, right in the centre of a prosperous human town.

The Brothers

Prometheus knew that Zeus would seek some kind of retribution for his disobedience and warned his brother Epimetheus that, while he was away teaching the newly sprung up villages and towns how to use fire, he should on no account accept any gift from Olympus, no matter in what guise it presented itself.

Epimetheus, who always acted first and considered the consequences later, promised to obey his more perspicacious brother.

Nothing could prepare him for Zeus’s gift, however.

Epimetheus answered a knock at the door one morning to see the cheerful smiling face of the messengers of the gods.