PROMETHEUS
Have there been women yet? I misremember.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, I shouldn’t think so.
PROMETHEUS
Only I think there’s one now. Just outside.
EPIMETHEUS
Hang on, how can’t there have been women previously?
PROMETHEUS
How do you mean?
EPIMETHEUS
Well, we made mankind yesterday. Presumably that includes women.
PROMETHEUS
Well, that’s not what the note says.
EPIMETHEUS
Note?
PROMETHEUS
She’s got a note with her. Just says “THE FIRST WOMAN.”
EPIMETHEUS
If she’s the first one, how come we’re already familiar with the general concept? And who was our mother?
PROMETHEUS
Oh, I don’t like that, reducing women to motherhood. Doesn’t sit right with me.
EPIMETHEUS
I just don’t understand on what basis anyone can claim that woman outside is the first one when there’s already clearly some sort of platonic (heh) ideal of women we’re both familiar with.
PROMETHEUS
Why are you arguing with me about this? I didn’t write the note.
EPIMETHEUS
Well, you’re defending it.
PROMETHEUS
I’m not defending anything, I’m just reading – oh, shit, I think she can see us.
EPIMETHEUS
Is she coming over here?
PROMETHEUS
I don’t know. I’m not looking.
[The door opens. Both brothers dive beneath the couch, or whatever the ancient Greeks might have had instead of a couch. A divan? Pandora enters, carrying a jar.]
PANDORA [Jovially. A bit forced, but with some real oomph behind it.]
Man, where are you? Who told you that you were naked?
EPIMETHEUS [Despite himself. Still hiding.]
We’re not naked.
PROMETHEUS
It’s a reference.
EPIMETHEUS
Ah. Well.
PANDORA
You’re – where are you?
PROMETHEUS
Hiding behind the divan.
PANDORA
Is that usual?
EPIMETHEUS [Simultaneously]
Are you the first woman, or merely an woman? A woman? An. Neither sounds quite right, does it?
PANDORA
I haven’t the faintest idea.
EPIMETHEUS
I’ve never hidden behind a divan before. I can’t speak for my brother.
PROMETHEUS
Certainly not. [Rising] Hello.
PANDORA
How do you do&c.
EPIMETHEUS
How did you do that? Say a typically-written valediction aloud without just saying “ampersand-c-period”?
PANDORA
I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea.
EPIMETHEUS [Getting up.]
It was wonderful. Are all women going to be able to do that?
PANDORA
I wish you wouldn’t keep asking me about other women. I’m not representative.
PROMETHEUS
We’re terribly sorry. What – well, what are you, exactly, then?
PANDORA
Oh, gosh, it’s a lot to remember, let me see – Hephaestus molded clay in the likeness of a modest maid, as the son of Cronos purposed, the goddess bright-eyed Athene girded and clothed me, and the divine Graces and queenly Persuasion put necklaces of gold upon me, and the rich-haired Hours crowned my head with spring flowers. And Pallas Athene bedecked my form with all manners of finery. Also the Guide, the Slayer of Argus, contrived within me lies and crafty words and a deceitful nature at the will of loud thundering Zeus, and the Herald of the gods put speech in me. And they called me Pandora, because all they who dwelt on Olympus gave each a gift, a plague to men who eat bread. A sheer, hopeless snare.
[A pause.]
EPIMETHEUS
Well, I’m called Epimetheus.
PANDORA
How do y’do&c.
PROMETHEUS
I’m Prometheus. And a little taken aback.
PANDORA
The jar is part of it, I think.
EPIMETHEUS
Part of being a woman?
PROMETHEUS
Ass.
PANDORA
Part of the snare.
EPIMETHEUS
What is in the jar?
PANDORA
Horrors, chiefly.
PROMETHEUS [Carefully.]
Ah. How thoughtful. I’ll just take that, shall I? And place it very carefully over here by the fireplace, where no one needs to touch it or try to open it, or anything else.
EPIMETHEUS
Is that it? Just – ah – horrors?
PANDORA
All I know is that someone very tall was very upset about being given a specific bag of meat – I suppose he wanted the other bag of meat, I’m not sure, it wasn’t particularly clear – and so he wanted to give you a woman as revenge, and it become very evident that this revenge-woman was supposed to be me, so here I am.
EPIMETHEUS
So you’re – what are you planning on doing with us, then? Is telling us all this part of the revenge, or are you on our side, or what?
PANDORA [Settling in on the divan.]
Look, I just work here. And it’s my first day on the job. All I’m telling you is what my supervisors told me. “There’s women now, you’re it, bring the jar of horrors to the brothers who invented lobsters et al, good luck.” Far as I can see, I’ve done my job. Also, you might offer me a drink or something.
PROMETHEUS
Sorry.
EPIMETHEUS
Would you like a drink or something?
PANDORA
I could eat.
EPIMETHEUS
What do women eat?
PANDORA
How on earth should I know? I’ve been a woman for all of six hours. I haven’t the faintest idea what eating is. Why don’t you make me a plate of a little bit of everything, and that way we can find out what I like?
EPIMETHEUS
Have you ever tried god-meat? That one was my idea. I’ve a feeling that’s what Zeus – the tall one – was cross about. He wants meat from people, of all things –
PROMETHEUS
Meat provided by people, to be clear, not the meat of people
EPIMETHEUS
– Right, that’s what I said, meat from people in addition to all the food he’s already got laying around –
PROMETHEUS
Isn’t it lying around?
EPIMETHEUS
I haven’t the faintest. Anyhow, that struck us as rather churlish, and so we gave him the option of two manners of offering, and hid all the good meat under some scraps, and like an idiot he chose the bones and offal just because it was under a fat-cap, so now that’s all he gets, and we have plenty of leftovers. Do you like leftovers?
PROMETHEUS
She hasn’t had anything, how can she possibly know if she likes leftovers?
EPIMETHEUS
Right, sorry. Do you like us?
PANDORA
It’s a bit early to tell.
EPIMETHEUS
Because I don’t mind saying that I quite like you, even if you did bring us a jar of horrors and not a normal housewarming gift like some candles. I like candles, too. The big expensive ones that can’t possibly be worth thirty dollars, but I buy them anyways. Do you want to live with us?
PROMETHEUS
Epimetheus.
EPIMETHEUS
Sorry, I should have asked first. Can I ask her to live with us?
PANDORA
You can get rid of the jar if you like. I was only supposed to deliver it, I don’t care what you do with it.
PROMETHEUS
Not that you’d listen if I said otherwise, but yes, you can.
EPIMETHEUS
Do you know, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll bury it in the yard later? I can’t imagine what on earth we’d do with horrors. [To Prometheus.] Have we got a yard, or are those like women and haven’t been invented yet? [To Pandora.] Do you think there are going to be more of you? Women, I mean?
PANDORA
I certainly hope so.
EPIMETHEUS [Bustling.]
I do, too. Well, it’s settled, then, at least on our end. If you’d like to live with us, we’d enjoy it immensely – I’d enjoy it immensely – and if you’d rather not, I hope you’ll visit often. And if they make any other women, they’re welcome too. We’ll have lots of women, and lots of candles, and absolutely no horrors. My brother invented fire, you know, which is why so many candles.
PROMETHEUS
I didn’t invent it.
EPIMETHEUS
Well, we didn’t have any before, and then you brought some round, and now we do. If that’s not inventing, I don’t know what is.
PANDORA
They had fire on Olympus.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, I expect loads of places have it now. [Bringing out a plate.] Right. Here’s meat – goat, mainly, but also I think a bird of some kind (I invented birds, don’t think he’s the only one who invents things), and there’s a bit of cheese there, and bread, and I don’t remember what we decided to call that only it sort of makes your mouth burn to eat it, but a nice burn, I think, and if you want seconds of anything, just tell me, it’s no trouble to make another plate. Have you invented anything?
PANDORA [Chewing.]
Jars. Oh, this is good.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, jars were you?
PANDORA
Yes, they wanted me to just carry the horrors with me, but I thought that might be unwieldy, and frighten you off besides, so I just – thought a jar might come in handy, and then there were jars.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, well done. I suppose one could put other things in jars besides horrors, if one wanted?
PANDORA
Leftovers, possibly.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, that’s a famous idea. I knew I liked her. A house of inventors, they’ll call us. I’m glad you like eating; it’s one of my favorite things. Do you like us yet, or do you think you need more time?
PROMETHEUS
You can’t keep asking the same question just because she isn’t ready to answer.
PANDORA
No, it’s all right. He hasn’t any – he’s not like you, is he?
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, not at all. Sorry, I know you were talking to him, but you’re quite right. I haven’t any guile. Not a drop of it. He’s chockablock with it, Prometheus is, but the gods made me the offer, and I said I’d rather be happy, and you can’t be happy with guile, so I said I didn’t want any.
PROMETHEUS
That doesn’t mean he’s simple, mind you.
EPIMETHEUS
Not at all.
PANDORA
I never thought you were.
EPIMETHEUS
One can be complex and happy, of course. Guile isn’t the same thing.
PROMETHEUS
And I’m not unhappy, exactly.
EPIMETHEUS
But you’ve never bustled. Can I make you another plate?
PANDORA
Yes, please. Must one bustle, in order to be happy?
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, there’s hundreds of ways to be happy. I haven’t discovered even half of them yet. Are those more women in the yard?
PANDORA [Looking out the window.]
Yes, I think so.
EPIMETHEUS
Oh, how famous, how wonderful, how exciting.
PROMETHEUS
I’ll – get the door?
EPIMETHEUS
Well, we can’t keep diving under the sofa. Ask them if they’re hungry.
PANDORA [Opening the window and leaning out.]
Are you hungry?
WOMEN [In chorus.]
We could eat!
PANDORA
Well, come in, then! There’s something here that burns your mouth, but in a sort of nice way, and there’s loads of it.
EPIMETHEUS
Thank God we’ve got so much left over, from [He makes a gesture that is somehow immediately indicative of “deceiving Zeus”]. Prometheus, will you go bury that jar while I’m getting dinner ready? It gives me the creeps just to look at it. Oh, that’s another invention, isn’t it?
PANDORA
It’s not one of your better inventions, I don’t think.
EPIMETHEUS
Yes, I’ll try harder next time. Prometheus, the door! Our guests are hungry! Oh, guests, that’s nice, that’s much nicer than the creeps, have I just invented guests?
PANDORA
I rather think I did. Seeing as how I was one, earlier. And I think the first.
EPIMETHEUS
And a very good invention it was, too. Right back – I won’t be a minute – push some of the chairs together while I’m in the kitchen, will you? Hello, ladies, come on in. This is my dear friend Pandora, who likes me well enough. She’s just invented guests, and that’s what all of you are. You can leave your jars outside; my brother will bury them for you.
My friend Mara Wilson has started a newsletter called Shan't We Tell The Vicar. It’s got all manner of ideas, stories, and titles for imaginary BBC shows. As a friend of the Chatner, she is offering a discount, should you like to sign up. Use this link to get 25% off if you sign up within the next 48 hours.
The spirit of The Toast lives on! It's like some mad hybrid of Monty Python, P.G. Wodehouse, and Aristophanes.
Good good this reminds me how much I love Wilde's stage directions.
Very Stoppard-esque as well.
Which is to say, absurd and wonderful.