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!”A
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.