CORYDON: There's sure to be a stone or two among them I have grown fond of, pouring them from one hand Into the other.
THYRSIS: I hope it doesn't taste Too bitter, just at first.
CORYDON: A bowl of jewels Is far too many jewels to give away And not get back again.
THYRSIS: I don't believe He'll notice. He's too thirsty. He'll gulp it down And never notice.
CORYDON: There ought to be some way To get them back again. . . . I could give him a necklace, And snatch it back, after I'd drunk the water, I suppose. . . . Why, as for that, of course a necklace. . . .
[He puts two or three of the colored tapes together and tries
their strength by pulling them, after which he puts them around
his neck and pulls them, gently, nodding to himself. He gets up
and goes to the wall, with the colored tapes in his hands.]
[THYRSIS in the meantime has poured the powdered root—black
confetti—into the pot which contained the flower and filled
it up with wine from the punch-bowl on the floor. He comes
to the wall at the same time, holding the bowl of poison.]
THYRSIS: Come, get your bowl of water, Corydon.
CORYDON: Ah, very good!—and for such a gift as that I'll give you more than a bowl of unset stones. I'll give you three long necklaces, my friend. Come closer. Here they are. [Puts the ribbons about THYRSIS' neck.]
THYRSIS: [Putting bowl to CORYDON'S mouth.] I'll hold the bowl Until you've drunk it all.
CORYDON: Then hold it steady. For every drop you spill I'll have a stone back Out of this chain.