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.