Gyges.
O Queen,
Be you the prize that draws me with its lure
When far and wide I’ve crushed my foes in rout.
Rhod.
Nay, nay! You gain no hour of grace from me.
We cannot go before my Father’s presence;
Then come with me and stand at Hestia’s altar,
And give to me before her countenance
The hand’s eternal bond I give to you.