Thyr. You know as well as I do, Corydon,
I never thought of anything of the kind.
Don't you?
Cory. I do not.
Thyr. Don't you?
Cory. Oh, I suppose so.
Thyrsis, let's drop this,—what do you say?—it's only
A game, you know ... we seem to be forgetting
It's only a game ... a pretty serious game
It's getting to be, when one of us is willing
To let the sheep go thirsty, for the sake of it.
Thyr. I know it, Corydon.
[They reach out their arms to each other across the wall.]
Coth. [prompting]. "But how do I know?"
Thyr. Oh, yes.... But how do I know this isn't a trick
To water your sheep, and get the laugh on me?
Cory. You can't know, that's the difficult thing about it,
Of course,—you can't be sure. You have to take
My word for it. And I know just how you feel.
But one of us has to take a risk, or else,
Why don't you see?—the game goes on forever—
It's terrible, when you stop to think of it....
Oh, Thyrsis, now for the first time I feel
This wall is actually a wall, a thing
Come up between us, shutting me away
From you.... I do not know you any more!
Thyr. No, don't say that! Oh, Corydon, I'm willing
To drop it all, if you will! Come on over
And water your sheep! It is an ugly game.
I hate it from the first.... How did it start?