She was crying
bitterly, and sobbing as if her heart would break.
Suddenly there was a gentle little tap on the inside of the lid.
"What can that be?" cried Pandora, lifting her head.
But either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or was too much out of
humour to notice it. At any rate, he made no answer.
"You are very unkind," said Pandora, sobbing anew, "not to speak to me!"
Again the tap! It sounded like the tiny knuckles of a fairy's hand,
knocking lightly and playfully on the inside of the box.
"Who are you?" asked Pandora, with a little of her former curiosity.
"Who are you, inside of this naughty box?"
A sweet little voice spoke from within--
"Only lift the lid, and you shall see."
"No, no," answered Pandora, again beginning to sob, "I have had enough
of lifting the lid! You are inside of the box, naughty creature, and
there you shall stay! There are plenty of your ugly brothers and sisters
already flying about the world. You need never think that I shall be so
foolish as to let you out!"
She looked toward Epimetheus, as she spoke, perhaps expecting that he
would commend her for her wisdom. But the sullen boy only muttered that
she was wise a little too late.
"Ah," said the sweet little voice again, "you had much better let me
out. I am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their
tails. They are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at
once, if you were only to get a glimpse of me.
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