Cory. Oh, Thyrsis, give me a bowl
Of water!—and I'll find the bowl with jewels,
And bring it back!
Thyr. Be off, I'm busy now.
[He catches sight of the weed, picks it up and looks at it, unseen by Corydon.]
Wait!—Pick me out the finest stones you have....
I'll bring you a drink of water presently.
Cory. [goes back and sits down, with the jewels before him].
A bowl of jewels is a lot of jewels.
Thyr. [chopping up the weed]. I wonder if it has a bitter taste?
Cory. There's sure to be a stone or two among them
I have grown fond of, pouring them from one hand
Into the other.
Thyr. I hope it doesn't taste
Too bitter, just at first.
Cory. A bowl of jewels
Is far too many jewels to give away....
And not get back again.