Chapter II: Act I: Scene 1

_A Hall_

_Enter_ KANDAULES _and_ GYGES. KANDAULES _buckles on his sword_. THOAS _follows with the diadem_.

KANDAULES.

To-day you’ll see what Lydia can achieve!
I know you Grecians, though your necks are bended,
Just for your standstill plight bear the old yoke
With gnashing teeth and lip-curl at your lords.
No thing on earth were easily invented
You were not quick to better, were’t alone
The crown you add, you set it on--and lo,
The thing’s your work, you see that it is good!

[THOAS _hands him the diadem_.

Bring the new diadem! What use is this?
Has your dolt’s hand the sword as well mistaken?

[_Looks at his sword._

Why yes, by Herakles whose feast we’re holding!
What, Thoas, are you doddering ere your time?

THOAS.

I thought----

KAN.

Well, what?

THOAS.

Not for five hundred years
Has King in other trapping graced the games
Your Ancestor, the Puissant, has stablished,
And when, the feast before, you made endeavour
To oust the hallowed things from olden honour,
The folk stood rooted, horrified, amazed,
Muttering as ne’er before.

KAN.

And so you think
I should have marked their gapes for my salvation?
I’ve hit your thought?

THOAS.

Lord, not without a shudder
I touch this diadem, and not till now
Has hand of mine been closed on this sword’s hilt
That all the seed of Herakles once brandished;
But these new baubles I can see unblenching
Like any other such as blinks and glances
And is your own for paying of the price.
Not on Hephaestus do I need to think,
At sight of these, who for divine Achilles
His weapons smithied,--ay, and in the fire
Wherewith the thunderbolts for Zeus are steeled;
Nor yet on Thetis, she who bade her daughters
For him be fisherfolk of pearl and coral
That thus his decking fail not of its fill.
But _this_ sword--why, I knew the man that forged it,
And him by whom _this_ diadem was pieced!

KAN.

Eh, Gyges!

THOAS.

Sire, fair faith speaks out of me!
If I am overbold, ’tis for your welfare.
Believe my words, the many thousand folk
That stream t’assembly hither,--ay, albeit
They walk in finer wool and fare the daintier,--
Are just as fond or pious-prim as I.
This crown here and your head--these are for them,
Your henchman vouches, halves of a single whole,
And in like grade this sword here and your arm.

KAN.

And that’s the thought of all?

THOAS.

Yes, by my head!

KAN.

Then there’s no room for dawdling! Take them off
And do what I have bid!

[THOAS _takes off the regalia_.

GYGES.

You’ve hurt the man.

KAN.

I know; but say, what else could I have done?
’Tis true what he has said; here the King’s worth
Is gauged but by his crown, and the crown’s worth
Owed to its rust. Woe to its furbisher!
Brighter but lighter--gain and loss are matched.
But why bemoan it if for just this once
I so forgot me--sheer worn out, and loath
Only by force of heirloom garb to glitter,
Pass current just as minted coins pass current
By take-for-granted worth, and share with statues
That in the sacred temple-niches stand
A blind and blockish sacrosanctity?
You can’t undo what’s done.

[THOAS _comes with the new adornment_.

Ah, thus ’tis good!

[_He puts on the diadem._

That fits in place, and only what my realm
Of pearls and precious jewels disenwombs
From out the miner’s shaft or bed of ocean,
Not more nor less, is here enharmonied.
The noble stone that is not found among us,
It matters not how fair, is straitly banned.
I need not say I’ve left a place for such
As are unearthed in the next hundred years.
Now do you follow?
(_To_ GYGES.) That one fitly suits
Some massive giant-skull such as your sculptors
Are wont to give my forebear for a head-piece,
When in his lion-skin, with bulky club,
Towering above a streamlet’s mossy rim,
You make him useful as a children’s bogy.

[_He girds on the sword._

This sword is somewhat lighter than the old one;
But that’s no loss--you’ll swing it, if you must,
Not outside merely ’neath unhampered heaven
Where giants at each other volley boulders,

[_He draws it and swings it._

No, but in space cramped human-small, like this!
Then, Thoas, spare the pains of a third sermon,
To-day I’ve heard the second.

THOAS.

Pardon, sire!
And yet you know ’tis not the young man’s limbs
In which a change of weather gives its warning,
It is the old man’s bones that feel it first.

[_Exit._

GYGES.

He goes in sorrow!

KAN.

True; he’s loath to think
That the next thunderbolt will now strike me;
And that’s fast in his mind. I may, perhaps,
Ere that can hap, be gulped into Earth’s entrails
Unless, forsooth, the Minotaur appears!
Such is their fashion; do not therefore think
But light of them. This very day you’ll see
Their fighting stuff.

GYGES.

And wish to join the fighting.

KAN.

What, Gyges?

GYGES.

Sire, I beg you for the boon.

KAN.

No, no! Beside myself you shall be seated
That all may see how much I give you honour
And will that all men give you honour-meed.

GYGES.

But if you honour me you’ll not refuse.

KAN.

You know not what you do. Know you the Lydians?
You Grecians are a cunning folk; you set
The others all to spinning, and you weave,
And lo, a net wherein no piece of cordage
Belongs to you, yet the whole thing’s your own!
How easy ’twere to tighten, and how swift
The wide world clutched in capture if the arm
The fisher stretched were but a little stronger,
The arm that should control! But there’s the rub!
You have no trick to lure the nervy tendons
From out our bodies, so with artful seeming
We look much blinder than in truth we are,
And with a covert laugh we bungle in
Because a tiny fin-flick sets us free.

GYGES.

We celebrate these games as well.

KAN.

Yes, yes,
After a fashion, ’mongst yourselves. There Dorians
Grip with Ionians, and then, to cap it,
It comes to this--Boeotians join the fray,
And so you think that Ares’ self looks on
And with a shudder marks your every blow.
Gyges, had every prize that’s offered there
Been won by you, still were I forced to warn you
Avoid the lists e’en for the lowest guerdon.
We’ve ever set a wild and bloody pace;
But even a single twig of silver poplar,
Such as to-day are in their thousands strown,
Ventured by you, a Greek and in my graces,
Would ne’er allow you scapement of your life.

GYGES.

And so I have your “yes”; no longer now
Can you withhold consent.

KAN.

You take it so?
I were best mute.

GYGES.

I came, Sire, not alone
For begging. (_He brings forth a ring._) Take it! ’Tis a royal ring.
You look on it, find naught of mark therein,
You’re mazed I am so bold to make the offer,
You’ll take it, too, as from a child a flower,
To keep the poor and artless grace unwounded
That plucked it for you, not because you’re pleased.
It’s surface-show is meagre--true--and plain
And yet you cannot, for your kingly realm,
Purchase it for your own, nor yet with force,
’Spite all your power, turn robber ’gainst its wearer
Unless of free consent he will the gift.
You wear it so (_indicating with signs_) to make the metal rest
With forward trend--’tis but a trinket-thing,
Perchance not even as much, but give a twist
Just so far round that with its tiny shine
This stone of dullish red can fling its rays
And presto! you are viewless and go striding
Like gods enclouded up and down the world.
Therefore contemn it not, for once again--
It is a royal ring, and this same day
Long since I chose in which to make my present.
’Tis you alone may wear it, no one else.

KAN.

Why, things before unheard sent even to us
Their rumouring; men spoke about a woman,
Medea was her name, and arts she plied
Such that the very moon was earthwards chanted;
But never have I heard of such a ring.
Where did you get it, then?

GYGES.

From out a grave.
From out a grave that lies in Thessaly.

KAN.

You oped a grave and sacrileged its peace?

GYGES.

Nay, nay, my King--I found it oped to hand.
I only crept therein to slip from robbers
Toward hid retreat, for they in whelming odds
Were hot-foot on my track and harried me
As I, by some adventurous prompting driven,
Of late a desolate wooded mountain ranged.
The urns were overthrown and spilt their ashes,
In touching disarray the shards were scattered,
And in the sickly shaft of westering sunlight
That pierced a passage through the chinkéd wall
I saw a wisp of pallid dust was swaying.
It rose before me as the final motes
That vestige death, and turned my mood so eerie
That, lest my fellow-flesh, my very fathers
Perchance, be mixed with my unconscious breathing,
Long time I held the air within my breast.

KAN.

Well? And the robbers?

GYGES.

Found my every trace
Was vanished, so it seemed, for far and farther
Their dwindling voices died, and now I thought me
Already safe assured, although not yet
I left my glimmering retreat. As now
In such a plight I cramped upon my knees
My sight fell suddenly upon this ring.
From out the wreckage heaped in tangled waste
Its stone, as though it were a living thing,
Half minding me of some sharp serpent’s eye,
Shot sparkles at me. Straight I raised it up,
I blew the ashes from it and I spoke:--
“Who bore thee once on his long-mouldered finger?”
And then, to see if ’twere a man had worn it,
I put it on, and scarce the deed was done
When from without rang--“Halt! He must be here!
See you the grave? Then onward, onward, comrades!
We have our man!” and quick appeared the troop.
But I was loath, like some defenceless beast
Harried into a hole, to suffer slaughter,
And springing forth I charged impetuous--flashing
Full at them, in my hand the lifted sword.
The sun was near the dipping of its disc
And streaming, like a candle destined soon
To quench its glow, with doubly vivid ray.
But they, as though for them alone the night
Outran its hour, stormed on with furious curses
Passing me by, and ringed them round the grave.
They raked it through, and, as I still was hid,
Cried out in scorn--“What odds? We’d find he bore
Nothing upon him but the truculent eye
That with its taunting glance so roused our rage;
Some other soon enough will blow _that_ out!”
Then once again, but with chagrin’s slow footsteps,
Peering around and in my face even staring,
They passed me by and I was still unseen.

KAN.

And then you thought----

GYGES.

Not on the ring--not yet.
My notion was a god had wrought a wonder
To save me, and upon my knees I flung me
And thus to the Invisible One I spoke:--
“I know not who thou art, and if from me
Thy face thou hid’st, I cannot slay for thee
The beast that is thy consecrated due;
But for a sign that I have thanks at heart
And lack not courage, I will bring to thee
The fiercest of these robbers as thy meed,
And this I swear, how hard soe’er it prove.”
I hastened after them and slipped amid
Their company, and I was seized with shudders
Before myself, to see how I alone
Was marked not of them, how they spoke together,
As I were air and void, right through my form
And through it even handed bread and wine.
My eyes grew overveiled and ranging fell
Upon the ring-set stone whose radiance red
And brilliant from my hand was scintillating
With restless well and swell and pearly bubbling
Puffed into vapour; and it seemed an eye
That ever breaks in blood which ever steams.
I turned it, sheer compelled, to make confession,
Sheer terrified; for all these pearls were glinting
Like just as many stars; it touched my mood
As though the pure ethereal stream of light
Lay naked to mine eyes and I were blind
From overglory, as the harmony
They tell of in the spheres makes all men deaf.
But straight I felt me in a lusty grip
And “What is this? Hey! Who held him concealed?
A pretty joke!” was ringing in my ears.
And now ten fists were grappling for my throttle,
Ten others made to rip my raiment from me,
And I had surely met inglorious end
Had not the clumsiest fist of all the mob
Held back to snatch the ring; for suddenly
The cry was raised--“Hallo! He is not poor!
Here’s a fine fish i’ the net! See, blinking gold,
Ay, and a precious stone! Come, here with it!”
But almost in the selfsame-taken breath
Rang out--“A god, a god is come among us!”
And lo, they all were lying at my feet!

KAN.

Just as their hands about the ring were scrambling
They turned it round again and went a-quiver
As you evanished like a shape of cloud.

GYGES.

It must be so. But now I turned it back,
At last initiate in its mystic secret,
And filled with pride and recklessness I called,
“A god! Even so! And each pays penance due!”
Then hot-foot set upon them. Horror-struck,
As though I bore within my hands the thunder
And at my side new modes of death in thousands,
They scarce retained the heart and strength for flight.
But I was on their heels as though compelled
To act the vicar in the Furies’ office,
And not a soul came free of my revenge.
I would have rendered to the grave its ring,
But though I’d strewn the way with bloody corses
That marked the backward path, neither at evening
Nor yet with morning could it be discovered,
And so against my will the ring was mine.

KAN.

Such treasure has no peer.

GYGES.

Said I not so?
A royal ring! Then take it, Royal One!

KAN.

Not till the battle’s ended.

GYGES.

Sire, since then
I never have and ne’er again will wear it.
So niggard of your wood? O fie! A forest
Will not be needed for my funeral pyre;
A single tree’s enough, and trust this arm,
You’ll get remittance of the single tree.

KAN.

Then give’t! I’ll test it.

GYGES.

And I’ll weapon me.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE 2

_The Queen’s Apartment_

_Enter_ RHODOPE _with her attendants, among them_ LESBIA _and_ HERO.

RHODOPE.

And now be happy, maidens mine; to-day
Your whims are free. Though I must blame you dear
If other times you even hide and listen,
And though my gay-heart Hero yesterday,
Who clambered up the tree, were sternly scolded
Had not a bough, for all her lightsome limb,
Swift-snapping dealt her punishment enough,
Being over-weak for such a weight of wonder----

HERO.

O Queen, and if it verily caught your eyes
You’ll know as well it was the thickest one
Of all our garden-trees that I had chosen.

RHOD.

The thickest one! Maybe; but certain ’tis
The one that stood the nearest to the wall.

HERO.

The thickest one of all! I clambered up
And pierced into a very night of green.
’Twas well-nigh eerie when the golden day
Was thus behind me left, and in the darkness
I still crept on.

RHOD.

What made you do it, then?

HERO.

No wish to bring Olympus some few feet
Nearer my reach; no, such I freely granted
The nightingale a-trilling overhead.
I wanted--nay, but laugh not--I can never
Forget my cradle-rocking, and I wanted
A tiny rock up yonder.

RHOD.

Nothing more?

HERO.

And as I swung, nay not of set desire,
But as I swung--no more, just peep a fraction;
I’d be so glad to know if round our garden,
As scowling Karna ever says to us,
There runs a lake.

LESBIA.

A lake!

HERO.

Ah, you know better?

LESBIA.

Ho, have you ever heard it here a-swishing?
And is a lake untroublous as yourself?

RHOD.

I will not question further, for I know
You’ll not do thus again. Ne’er fell a maiden
So soft as you, nor e’er was frighted so.

LESBIA.

Yes, all her limbs were swooned away.

HERO.

And never
Ought I have fallen, for a stronger bough
Was near enough; but as it moved it swayed
A nest with young ones, and I would beware
Of trampling on them lest the tender brood,
Its featherless wings already in a flutter,
Be thrown in flurry.

LESBIA.

This then was the cause?
Yet they flew up. You ended with a grasp,
There’s not a doubt, a desperate grasp for safety.

RHOD.

Tease long as e’er you will; this is the day
On which the cabined house for you is open;
Now to it as you may and sate your eyes!

HERO.

And you?

RHOD.

Nay, eye not me. What’s granted you
Is merely not forbid to me. To-day
I cannot be your paragon and pattern.

HERO.

And once again you will not see the feast?

RHOD.

Nay, lest my presence mar your merry frolic.
With us it is not wont, and I should feel
As though I were to eat and have no hunger
Or drink and feel no thirst. It seems to me
That we’ve a better way at home than yours,
For ne’er without a shudder turn you home
From feasts like these whose outset is so luring.
And her I love most dearly who most deeply
Can thrill with pain nor goes a second time.
But that would not show blame in you--why, no!
Only I’m happy that my Lesbia,
Who’s grown to woman with you, feels as I.

LESBIA.

Will you to-day forgive me----

RHOD.

Why, what’s this?
And what must I forgive you? You would go?
Oh, but to take my praise back! Now she’s shamed,
Ashamed to be the daughter of her folk,
And has no cause. Am I myself aught other?
Go, go, and tell me who the victor was.

HERO.

Young Gyges too will surely join the fighting,
He of the noble voice.

RHOD.

So soon you know
How rings his voice?

HERO.

Oh, yes--but nothing more.
To-day we’ll see him, and believe my words,
She goes, like us, only for him.

LESBIA.

But I
May cheat you, and remaining prove your falsehood.

HERO.

Oh, that you’ll never do.

[KANDAULES _enters in haste_.

KAN.

Rhodope, greeting!
But know you who I am? A carpet-gallant,
A kingly ninth-of-man, forsooth a measurer
Of ells but not of swords, who is to blame
That Herakles’ twelve deeds have not long since
Found four-and-twenty other feats and greater
For overmatch. If you will not believe ’t
Why only ask Alcaeus--old curmudgeon!
You know him not? Nor I, before to-day.
And know you how I use to make men happy?
I speak thus:--“Come, young man, here is a seed!
Now plant it in the earth and sprinkle o’er
The spot with water; do it day by day
And be assured that when your hair is frosty
You’ll have a meal of cherries for your pains.
What? ‘Sweet or sour?’--You’ll not find out till then!”
I give you Agron as my guarantee
Worthy Alcaeus names him worthy friend,
His perfect peer, but not so white of beard.

RHOD.

Your mood is merry.

KAN.

Ay, and wherefore not?
’Tis true Alcaeus, outright in rebellion,
Will make against me soon as e’er I venture
To show myself to him as thus to you,
Bedecked, I mean, with the new diadem.
Agron will deign me succour, and for thanks
I’m merely forced to swear--be not astounded
At such a lamblike heart--to keep my garb
For aye unaltered, and a sword to carry
Whose mere unsheathing drains my utmost strength.

RHOD.

Where did you gain this knowledge?

KAN.

Through no spy,
Nor yet the more through any false-heart friend,
But from themselves, direct from their own mouths.

RHOD.

You’re pleased to mock my questioning.

KAN.

No, no!
I speak in utter earnest. I stood by
While they set nails a-grubbing at the tables,
Digging their whetted teeth in their own lips
As though ’twere game and not their very flesh,
And took the oath which sure enough they’ll hold.
It makes a Bar of God here in a fashion--
One hacks at me, the other wards the blow,
And Diké passes verdict if she can.

RHOD.

You must have eavesdropped, then; I’ll not believe ’t.
If I come in a place all unexpected
I make a warning noise that I be marked,
And what should be unheard be left unsaid.
And you--no, no--that is no kingly act.

KAN.

Why, surely not--but _that_ you’d ne’er unriddle.
You see this ring? How do you rate its worth?

RHOD.

How can I tell from whom it comes?

KAN.

From Gyges.

RHOD.

You’ll think it past all rating then.

KAN.

It is;
And yet you dream not why. Then hear the marvel--
If any put it on it makes him viewless.

RHOD.

Viewless?

KAN.

Just now I tried it for myself.
“Nay, no more climbing, Hero! Only birdlings
Go hiding in the leafage!”[1]

RHOD.

Lesbia!

KAN.

Through every door I stalk along--naught holds me,
Nor lock nor bolt, at distance due.

RHOD.

How fearful!

KAN.

For all bad souls, you mean.

RHOD.

No, no, I say!
For all good souls, still more, still more! (_To_ LESBIA.) Can you
Still breathe unruffled, will not blushing shame
Dissolve you now you know’t? Sire, cast it hence
Down, down into the deepest flood! When more
Than mortal strength is given a man, he’s born
Half-god, innate, sufficient. Give it me!
My people say that things through which the world
May fly to fragments, here and there on earth
Are lying hid. They reach us from the time
When men and gods still walked the world together
And pledged their love with mutual gifts. This ring
Is of that time, and who can tell what hand
Bore this, what goddess put it on, what bond
It sealed of yore? Do you not shiver to think
That her dark gift’s your arrogated plunder
And that you draw her vengeance on your head?
I shudder at the very sight--then give it!

KAN.

On one condition--this, that you as Queen
Will show you at the feast to-day.

RHOD.

How can I?
You bore away a bride from farthest borders
Seclusion-hedged, and knew her as she was.
Once you were glad that never an eye ere yours,
Except alone my Sire’s, had rested on me
And that none after you should win the sight.

KAN.

Forgive! I only think the precious stone
That’s not displayed----

RHOD.

Will lure no robber’s lust!

KAN.

Enough. Alas, this “No” is but your wont.
Yes, let the wind blow fresh from every quarter
On fluttered veils--you’ll keep yours tight and trim.

[_Music_.

The pomp! No time for kings to fail their presence.

RHOD.

Yes, but the rebels? Ah, I’m pained to-day
That I dare not go with you.

KAN.

You are kind,
But have no anxious fret--the matter’s settled.

RHOD.

In truth?

KAN.

In truth. I need not say through fear;
I punished them through force alone, not choice.
This life’s too short to let a man therein
Earn even so much as the desert of death,
And so to-day I’d not condemn one gladly.

[_Exit._

RHOD.

Now all of you begone!

LESBIA.

I’ll stay, my Queen.

RHOD.

Oh, no; your nurse ne’er crooned a prophecy
That some man’s face would token death for you.

[_Exeunt_ LESBIA, HERO, _and the others_.

They’re over-dull to dream here; even the noblest (_looking
after_ LESBIA)
Is irked by what I deem peculiar joy.

SCENE 3

_Open space. A crowd._ KANDAULES _on his throne_. LESBIA, HERO,
_and others at one side, on a raised structure. The games are
just over. General stir and drifting into groups. Wrestlers,
boxers, charioteers, etc., come by degrees to sight, all crowned
with branches of the Silver Poplar. Wine is handed round. Music.
The Feast begins._

THE PEOPLE.

Hail, Gyges, hail!

KAN. (_gazing into the background_).

In discus-throwing, too?
For the third time? I should be sore to see it!
Why this leaves not a doit for mine own people!

[_He descends and goes to meet_ GYGES _as he
comes from the background. The people are
still acclaiming him and make way for him._

A modest fellow, you, forsooth! You take
No more than’s here.

GYGES.

My Lord, I fought to-day
As Greek and not as Gyges.

KAN.

All the sorrier
For us if the new standard’s set by you.
Why, then we’ll have to start at lumber-hunting
And stuff to bulging those old skins of dragons
That, left by Herakles in some odd place,
Some temple hiding-hole, must now lie mouldering.
The bladdered serpent, too, the hundred-headed,
And any bogy that can raise Greek hair.
You hear me not.

GYGES.

I do, I do!

KAN.

Oh no!
I see too well. You slant at yonder maidens
Your listless eyes. They see it too. Look there!
The shorter twits the taller. You go red?
Pooh, shame on you!

GYGES.

I’m thirsty, Sire.

KAN.

You’re thirsty?
Why, that’s another tale. Who fights like you
Has honest right unto a goodly drink,
And though I lack the right I’ll share the draught.
Ah, now there comes the part o’ the feast I love!
(_Beckons to a servant._) Come hither!

[_The servant brings a goblet of wine._
KANDAULES _pours some drops on the earth_.

First the root and then the branch!

[_He drinks and is about to hand the goblet to_ GYGES,
_but he is again looking towards the raised structure_.

Come! Ho! Brunette or dark? That is the question,
Eh, friend?

GYGES.

Oh, Sire?

KAN.

Your palate likes the wine?

GYGES.

I’ve not yet drunk.

KAN.

You know’t? Then let your ears
Accept reminder of your thirst and to it!
I guarantee you this, that long enough
She’ll stay to let you ease the press of pain.

GYGES (_drinks_).

That cools!

KAN.

Alack the day, down sinks your star!

[_The maidens retire, but can still be seen._

Well, it was time. Just glance around. Already
They twine as though about a Thyrsus-staff
That, sudden-launched from earth in upward sally,
And swift and swifter dartwise nearing heaven,
Cascades the clusters of a million grapes.
Wine fits the subtler stuff of winged Beings,
But not the world of hobbling crawling man,
It stands him on his head. That old man there
Would never stick at mounting on a tiger
Or pranking his shrunk temples with a garland,
As Dionysos did when Ganges-bound.
But I’m at home with loosed wits--Was she fair?

GYGES.

I know not if what pleases me be fair.

KAN.

Say “yes”--no blushes! an eye like a coal,
Only a-glimmer, but at lightest breath
Bursting in sparks shot with such twining hues
You could not tell if it be black or brown;
And then, as though this restless weft of colour
Immingled with her every drop of blood,
’Tis fluctuant ’twixt shame and love unbreathed
That gives her blush a tint of peerless charm.

GYGES.

You make complete what the wind half-way wrought;
It stirred the fringes, you uplift the veil.

KAN.

Not that you owe the bent knee at her power--
Nay, should I guide you to another vision,
A sight like this, for all its winsomeness,
You’d purge your eye of as it were a fleck
That touched your glass with tarnish.

GYGES.

Think you, Sire?

KAN.

Even so; but stay--you should not cry a prize
Which cannot be displayed--that earns you jeering.
Who’s gulled by cries of “pearls!” when the hand’s shut?

GYGES.

I.

KAN.

Gyges--why, the shadow of Rhodope
Cast in the shine o’ the moon--you smile! We’ll drink.

GYGES.

I smile not.

KAN.

Smile you should, then! Where’s the man
That cannot boast thus? Should you speak to me
As I to you, I’d say--“Then show her me
Else hold your tongue.”

GYGES.

I trust you.

KAN.

Trust me, eh?
The eye commands your credence, not the ear.
You trust me! Ho! This shrinking bit of a girl
Gave you hot cheeks, and now--enough, enough--
I’ll pout my breast no more with windy babble
Such as for all this length of time I’ve used.
Nay, you shall see her.

GYGES.

See her!

KAN.

And to-night.
I want some soul to witness that I’m not
A futile fool, a mere self-dupe that boasts
He has the fairest woman for his kissing.
I fill the want with you.

GYGES.

Oh, never more
Think on it!--for the man ’twere blot of soul,
But for a woman,--woman such as she
That even by day----

KAN.

Why, why--she’ll never learn it.
Have you forgot the ring? And I’ll ne’er be
A happy man till your lips say I am.
Come, ask you--if the crown were to your liking
Should you be bound to wear it but in darkness?
Well, that’s the plight I’m in with her. She is
The Queen of women, but I hold possession
Of her as Ocean holds its pearls--none dreams
How rich I am, and when I’m dead and done with
There’s not a friend can set it on my tombstone,
And so I lie i’ the grave, beggar to beggar.
Then do not say me nay, but take the ring.

[_He proffers it to_ GYGES,
_who will not take it_.

The night is closing in; I’ll show the chamber
And when you see me tread the floor with her
Then follow us.

[_Takes_ GYGES _by the hand
and draws him along with him_.

I lay demand on you,
And is it not a debt to Lesbia forfeit?
Perhaps she is the vanquisher.

[_Exeunt._