Several of the women hastily untie their sandals.
Fourth Woman, kneeling to bind Danaë's feet.
Forget not me to heel, my mighty lady.
Various Women, clustering about Danaë and seizing her.
Come on, come on to Babylon, dread Madam....
Up and down to Babylon, cold Highness....
I'll be her coiffing slave and tend her head....
I'll be her nurse and hold her in my breast....
More humbly I will take her feet in mine....
What honour to be trusted with such life—
priceless load.... Ah, do not let it fall....
Danaë, to Laodice.
Yet I have served you well.
Laodice. Yea, very well.
Whereto did Sophron flee?
Danaë. I do not know.
Laodice.
Tell me why Sophron fled, and what he knew.
A pause.
Tell even where your thoughts are following him.
A pause.
Even at what point of my research in him
Your heart lifted, and I will keep you back.
A pause.
Then are you both completed and concluded.
Knot elbows too, and lift her to the columns.
Danaë.
Yet I have loved you.
Laodice.
You are not mine: this earth shall not contain you.
I could unmake the stars to ensure darkness,
To cheat me of the places that have known you.
Danaë.
Must I go out?
Then pay me for my spent devotion first.
Let not these spittly weeds close in and choke me;
Undrape these silk and Asiatic jeers;
Let me go loose, and I will go indeed
As far as your desire—serving you yet.
Laodice, severing Danaë's bonds with her dagger, then rending away her veil and upper garments.
Your rigid mortal bonds, ...
Your isolating veil, ...
Your scarf of earthly flowers, ...
Your robe that once was royal, ...
Your chill, worn-out simarre,
Slide as the world slides....
Put off your useless shoes
To enter a holy place....
Get to your high estate.
Danaë, standing in her under-garment.
Gather your jewels.
Laodice. You trifle to gain moments.
Danaë.
Give me one kiss.
Laodice. You have not time. These wait.