ACT II

A Hall. Early morning. Enter Thoas.

Thoas.

I will and must have further parley with him.

To think what I’ve been forced to hear this night!

Heaven knows I went not out to catch the talk,

Yet home I come as packed as though I were

The wandering ear o’ the bloodiest of tyrants

And scarce had faith I’d see my Lord again.

Rebellion, imminent raid of sudden foemen,

Yea, a new choice of King! Is’t possible?

I dreaded much, but dreaded not so much.

Hist, hist! Are those not footfalls? Yes! Why, who

Is out of bed with greybeards ere the morn?

The youthful Gyges! Ho! but if you knew

What I now know you’d have no droop i’ the gait!

[He retires. Enter Gyges.

Gyges.

And once again I’m here! What will I here?

I sicken in the fresh of heaven. With scent

The air’s besprent, so leaden and sense-steeping

’Twould seem that every flower with one accord

Were opened, that the lungs of men be stifled,

And Earth herself outgasped her latest breath.

Thoas.

So gay and early, Karna? Pardon, I took you,

Lord, for another. You not yet in bed?

I trow the taste of fame bans sleep—oho!

Gyges.

The taste of fame?

Thoas.

Why, look at all the garlands

You carried off——

Gyges.

So that the laurel-tree

Need never fear me more! My wish was merely

To prove that bones may be inside a man

And marrow in those bones, although that man

Snap not a zither’s strings to tattered shreds

At the first touch. Now not a soul but knows it

Whate’er the doubt he may till now have had;

And that is good.

Thoas.

But why then take no sleep?

Gyges.

Why do you take no drink?

Thoas.

I guess you rose

Once ere this.

Gyges.

If I went to bed, why yes!

Thoas.

Just what I’d like to know; for if he’s heard

What I have heard—Pooh! no—I’ll vow he can’t have.

[Slowly retires.

Gyges.

She slumbers still! O blest, who dares to wake her!

’Tis dared by the nightingale that even now

Still half in dream sweet orison begins;

’Tis dared—He comes! What can he think of me?

[Enter Kandaules.

She wakes, and yet she offers show of sleeping.

Kan.

Gyges! So soon? Or should I ask you—still?

But no, I have your word.

Gyges.

Here is the ring!

Kan.

So early and so hasty?

Gyges.

’Tis your own.

Kan.

You trust yourself no longer to retain it?

Gyges.

Why not? And yet why should I? Take the thing!

Kan.

This tells me even more than what your sigh

Already told i’ the night.

Gyges.

Forgive it, Sire!

Kan.

Why, what a thing you say! It was my triumph!

Gyges.

And did you only hear it then?

Kan.

Oh no—

She started up, she shrieked—and did all that

So fully slip your eyes? No further then

I need to ask if I am conqueror.

Gyges.

It did not slip my eyes.

Kan.

Keep on—deny

Your wits were all a pother. Nay, I have

Still better proof to clinch the thing—you went

So far to turn the ring and know it not!

Gyges.

And know it not!

Kan.

She trembled, and when she

Grew ’ware o’ the noise, she cried, “Arise, Arise!

I’ the corner lurks a man! It is his will

Thy bane to be, or mine! Where is thy sword?”

I made pretence I felt her fear, and did so—

When lo, revealed stood—you, before me there,

Sharp outlined by the lamp’s intensest beam.

Is that enough? Now are you dumb to me?

Gyges.

My will was to be seen.

Kan.

You say that now

To rob my victory of its edge. Had I

Not stepped between to shut you from her glances

Or ere they lit on you, I had been forced

To strike you dead.

Gyges.

Sire, this I knew right well,

And just because I’d force you to the action

I turned the ring around with hasty twitch.

Kan.

What, Gyges?

Gyges.

Yes, it shocked the sight of heaven

This boldness—yes, I felt it.

Kan.

I allowed it.

Gyges.

But in the stifling closeness of that moment,

It seemed as though you had no right thereto,

And I would punish you with me; for fain

You had not been to strike me dead.

Kan.

You varlet!

Gyges.

And even now a shudder thrills my soul

As though some ugly thing I had committed

For which ’tis true the lip may lack a name

But not the conscience the implanted sense.

Yea, if I held that trash, that Dead Man’s Ring

Thrust on my hand by you, nor yet in wrath

Pitched it before your feet; and if instead

I used its power once more for speedy flight,

What checked the act was shame I felt for her,

For her I’d spare the shocked recoil, for her

The eternal crypt of shadow round her Being,

Not you—forgive my fevered wish—the deed.

Kan.

You are a fool!

Gyges.

A fool! It drove me forth

As though, if still I tarried there, a sense,

A newer, purer, must in her awaken,

The self-same sense that woke in Artemis

Before Actaeon’s scan, that must betray

To woman, as to goddess, what had passed.

I’ll flee not after murder in such mind.

Kan.

Murder—Nay, nay!

Gyges.

Who knows? The gods’ aversion

Is on polluted heads. Oh, what if now

The golden Aphrodite, deep-offended,

Were forced t’ avert her from her dearest daughter,

Because a stranger eye had ’filed the pure!

She’s loath to do’t; she lingers, for she hopes

The swoop of retribution follows on.

Goddess, remit no smile! I bring the due!

Kan.

There spake the Grecian!

Gyges.

Sire, vouchsafe to me

A last request.

Kan.

A thousand, if you will,

But not the last request; that comes too soon.

Gyges.

Take me as sacrifice! I make you gift

Of my young life—turn not the gift away!

Still many a splendid year I count as mine

And every one will swell your own if you

Will but accept them at Zeus’ altar-stone.

Then follow; let me hold to you one hand

In the firm grip of pact, and with the other

Thrust me clean through by custom’s holy ordinance;

With rapture, yea, with smiles it shall be done.

Kan.

I almost rue the deed! Here rant and rave,

Within suspicion—Bah!

Gyges.

Why vacillate?

How oft have young men in free-willed devotion

Libated their own blood to some war-chief

What time death’s shadow merely fringed his peril,

How oft been spent for some stark maniac’s rage!

Why not this once then for a happy soul,

Why not for you, whereby long time to come

You may be blest and blessing among men?

You rob me nowise. What have I, what can I

Accomplish? Speak! But you win much indeed,

For envious are the gods, and it may chance

The snipping shears o’ the jealous-minded Parcae

May sever all too soon life’s golden cord

The while their malice stretches out my span.

Outstrip their will; give joy the unbroken length

She meant should cling to pain. Do it forthwith!

Kan.

No more of this! You know your worth to me,

And if I turned a greybeard on the spot

With drouthy lips and wither in my veins

I’d borrow not the newer glow from you.

Gyges.

Nay, e’en in this your prime the bid were fruitless,

For if my blood with yours could be immingled,

For all its heat ’twere left but what it is.

Kan.

At this late hour you’re shaken in the mind

And know not what you say and what you do.

Gyges.

Forgive me, Sire!

Kan.

Good faith, I chide you not!

Mere reel of head like that from winy fumes,

A cooling breath of morn will blow it hence!

(As he goes) Such is at least my hope, and such I’ll see.

[Exit.

Gyges.

Why did I let the ring go back? I should have

Evanished, nevermore be seen of men;

Thus could I ever be about her, thus

Could see her as the gods alone may see her;

For this or that they hold as private hoard,

One charm of beauty to herself unknown,

One brightness in the deepest solitude,

One last, one utter mystery of spell

That lives for them and now would live for me.

’Tis true I would not cheat them of revenge

Should I take stolen sippings from the chalice

That for them only brims and sparkles o’er;

The air with sudden bruit would soon be ringing

And Helios, at the inciting beckon of flame

From wrathful Aphrodite all afired,

Would launch on me the most unerring arrow

Of all the unerring store his quiver bears.

Then would I reel from life, but that were naught,

For with the rattle at throat I’d clasp the ring,

Once more to turn it, abject at her feet;

And all her soul, as mine sank to its ebbing,

I’d suck into my parched self from her glances,

Upyielding thus my latest gasp of breath.

[Thoas enters with Lesbia, who is veiled.

Thoas.

The King sends Gyges, as his honoured favourite,

The beauteous slave that pleases him right well.

Gyges.

The King will have me for his mirth; such usage

I’ve earned not at his hands, nor will endure.

Thoas.

’Tis true the gift is rich and of the rarest,

But doubt not of the King’s sincere intent.

Gyges.

Peace, densest loon among all densest loons,

The King’s “sincere intent” is grossest mock.

Thoas.

Open your mouth, my girl, and say’t yourself

If he can’t trust me when I open mine.

Gyges (to Lesbia).

Girl, girl—no word!

Thoas.

You spurn the gift o’ the King?

Gyges.

Yes!

Thoas.

Gyges! Well, well, you know what you do!

Gyges.

The King kills me, and now to pay the body

For life, he thrusts a jewel in its hand!

Thoas.

I know not what you mean, and will announce

What I have heard. (To Lesbia.) So come you back with me.

Lesbia (to Gyges).

You’ll see me not a second time. Forgive

That I have spoken, though indeed it sounds

So roughly in your ears.

Gyges.

Nay, sweetest child,

But place yourself behind yon platanus

And speak as now—some love-lorn boy will cry,

“A nightingale that speaks as well as sings!”

Lesbia.

You are no boy.

Gyges.

Nay, nay, I’m not so much;

You see that well. ’Tis true I had a notion,

A thought I’m not the weakest hand at weapons,

That I’d done thus and thus, and none could ever

Get nipping at my ears without his buffet;

And, if by just the twist of luck a better

Were absent, I’d be called in danger’s hour.

But those are boyish dreams—the lash to the booby

For tippling wine i’ the night!

Lesbia.

First bring to me

A bough of laurel-tree, then will I lash you

And after weave for you the wreath.

Gyges.

And so

You shared my dream? Maybe then it was true,

And yet the mock!

Lesbia.

The mock? Where is the mock?

Gyges.

Stand you not there?

Lesbia.

Oh, cruel!

Gyges.

Not so, not so,

In truth not so!

Lesbia.

You’ve killed ere now a many;

Have you e’er brought one to his re-awakening?

Gyges.

You are most fair—Ay, verily, a blend

Of lily and of rose that in their plot

Make variant weft of hues, by pranksome winds

In such a juggling mingle set to swaying

There’s not an eye can sift the shades apart.

Now you are red, now pale—and lo, you’re neither,

You’re both at once!

Lesbia.

What know you, then, of me?

That was your dream; I look far otherwise—

See and recoil!

[She offers to unveil herself.

Gyges (preventing her).

No, no.

Lesbia (to Thoas).

Back to the Queen!

(To Gyges.) She gave me not away in joy, she’ll take

Me gladly back again.

Gyges.

Then say to her

I have not cast one look upon your face.

Lesbia.

Oh, insult!

Gyges.

Nay, you know I spied at you

How often yesterday; till then I ne’er

Had seen you.

Lesbia.

Then, it seems, I ever

Was at some childish trick. Oh, I am ashamed

I marked it not till now; and yet the others

Deserve the blame for all their teasing pranks.

Gyges.

I only saw what charmed me.

Lesbia.

Surely so,

For that which charms we love beneath a veil.

Come, come, old man!

Gyges.

And wherefore hasten so?

I am your lord, but tremble not at me;

I ask of you one service, only one,

Which granted you may leave.

Lesbia (to THOAS).

Then go alone.

Gyges.

Stay, stay! But no. Present the King my thanks.

I take his present; how I do it honour

I’ll give him proof.

Thoas.

’Tis good.

[Exit.

Lesbia.

And now the service?

Gyges.

You’ll tarry long enough to make your smiling

Come back to you.

Lesbia.

That will not happen soon.

Gyges.

And meantime while the hour in talk with me.

You tend the Queen’s own person—there’s no taste

No faintest in the peach you have not brought,

Tell me of her.

Lesbia.

Of her?

Gyges.

I only mean——

Well, if you will, of something else—the garden

In which she wanders—or about the flowers

She loves the most to pluck—of yourself too;

I’m fain to hear’t—Where are you like each other?

Tell me at once and win my smiles at once!

In stature? Nay, not quite; far less in form,

But, for amends, your hair is black like hers

But not so full—hers creeps about her face,

Fringing it as the night the evening star.

What else have you of hers?

[Lesbia makes an involuntary movement.

Nay, nay—stand still.

In gait she’s none but she; when you go stepping

’Tis seen your trend is hitherward or thither,

You swerve to the lure o’ the date or else the spring;

But when she moves we cast our upward eyes

Upon the Heaven, to see if Helios

Will set the golden sun-car earthward dipping

To lift her in, and companied with her

Trample his path through all Eternity!

Lesbia.

Yes, she is fair.

Gyges.

And why the downward eyelids?

Come, pretty maid, uplift them, for methinks

They rain her very fire.

Lesbia (with a dry sobbing laugh).

That well may be

In such an hour!

Gyges.

My words have caused you pain?

Lesbia.

I laughed, I think—and now have leave to go.

Gyges.

But not without a gift; yes, sweetest child,

I’d have you think on Gyges still with loving,

I own he’s rough and deals the unwary wound

Full oft, and not least often with the tongue,

But never has he left one yet unhealed.

[Enter Kandaules.

Kan.

Well?

Gyges.

Sire, your coming fits the nick of time.

Kan.

Then here must be two happy souls to find.

Gyges.

Not yet, but soon; (to Lesbia) I pray you, give your hand!

How tender ’tis, how hard of grain is mine,

How scarry-seamed from sword and dart! To match them—

Fie, an ill thought! On this a rose’s leaf,

A crumpled nothing, must imprint a pang,

On mine the sharpest thorn goes bent and blunt;

Yours twitches as a gyve were smithied round it.

Child, have no fear! I do not grip you thus

Because I wish to stay you. The King knows

I grasp not merely his express word’s meaning,

I’m quick as well i’ the uptake of his hint.

He saw with pain that Nature has for you

So much achieved, and naught that hussy Luck;

He bids me succour you and fill Luck’s office.

I do so (releasing her) and herewith declare you free!

Lesbia.

They say that liberty’s a noble boon;

I know it not, being snatched as child for spoil,

And yet one must give thanks for noble boons,

So for my liberty I give you thanks.

Gyges.

Are you contented, Sire?

Kan.

I’m thunderstruck!

Gyges (to Lesbia).

And since it seems you know not where your mother

Weeps yearning tears, or where your sire’s house stands

Enter, until you find it, into mine,

’Tis yours; I’ll rob it only of my sword.

[Exit Lesbia.

Kan.

What means this, Gyges?

Gyges.

Sire, my thanks that you

Have wished me bring this work to the rounding finish;

Yet yours it stays to the end.

Kan.

You wish, it seems,

To see just once the Heraclid aroused;

Then have a care, his sleep is not so sound!

Gyges.

Can I to-day offend you?

Kan.

No—forgive!

But go forthwith and take from out my hoard

Double the measure of your squandered present.

Your deed has vexed me, and it hurts me still.

Gyges.

Be gracious if I cannot meet your wish.

Such trash is changed like magic to a load,

And when, with all this gold and precious stones,

The beauteous slave-girl came to swell the treasure,

I used the slender whiteness of her neck

And hung thereon the precious vanities.

I can employ naught further than my sword,

But if you will be gracious unto me

Make me a present of your foemen’s heads;

I’ll make their tale complete to the very last.

Kan.

O Gyges, you are other than you were!

Gyges.

I am so, Sire.

Kan.

You love!

Gyges.

You saw that maiden?

I could have hewn her piecemeal! Do I love?

Kan.

You love Rhodope!

Gyges.

Sire, ’tis only this—

I cannot serve you more.

Kan.

Go, if you must.

It grieves me, but I dare not now refuse you,

And since you will not take a gift from me

I cannot keep a present of your making.

Here is your ring.

Gyges.

Give me your sword instead.

Kan.

I thank you that you show such noble mind.

[Is about to go.

Gyges.

There’s something yet (takes a jewel from his breast)—this (proferring it).

Kan.

Why, what——

Gyges.

Well you know it.

Kan.

Rhodope’s diamond!

Gyges.

I took the thing,

From there upon her neck—forgive the deed!

It is atoned.

Kan.

Is this your hand, Erinnyes?

Oh, verily ye are most light of sleep!

Gyges.

You’re bitter ’gainst me.

Kan.

No, not you. Farewell,

But never must we see each other more.

[Exit.

Gyges.

Never! I go forthwith. Then where’s the goal?

Come, come—what was my quest before this Lydian

Countered my path? Forgot so soon? Why no!

There was the lure that drew me to old Nile

Where men with yellow skins and slitten eyes

Build for dead monarchs everlasting houses.

Then ho for the old road! I’ll give a spell

To some poor wretch down there who’s wearied out.