THE FIRST ACT
The dinner-hour on the slave-fields of King Darniak. King Argimenes is sitting upon the ground, bowed, ragged and dirty, gnawing a bone. He has uncouth hair and a dishevelled beard. A battered spade lies near him. Two or three slaves sit at back of stage eating raw cabbage-leaves. The tear-song, the chant of the low-born, rises at intervals, monotonous and mournful, coming from distant slave-fields.
KING ARGIMENES
This is a good bone; there is juice in this bone.
ZARB
I wish I were you, Argimenes.
KING ARGIMENES
I am not to be envied any longer. I have eaten up my bone.
ZARB
I wish I were you, because you have been a king. Because men have prostrated themselves before your feet. Because you have ridden a horse and worn a crown and have been called Majesty.