Priest.
You make my heart beat so high, sire, that I can hardly speak. Deign, sire, to recall that incident.
Zeus [with extreme affability].
It was hardly an incident.... I merely happened, while you were reciting your song, to remember an occasion on which—on which Iris, at the rampart of our golden wall, bending back, was caught by the wind, and—and the contours were delicious.
Priest.
Oh! the word, the word!
Zeus [with slight hauteur].
I do not follow you. Her rainbow——
Priest.