Thyr. I don't believe
He'll notice. He's thirsty. He'll gulp it down
And never notice.
Cory. There ought to be some way
To get them back again.... I could give him a necklace,
And snatch it back, after I'd drunk the water,
I suppose ... why, as for that, of course, a necklace....
[He puts two or three of the colored tapes together and tries their strength by pulling them, after which he puts them around his neck and pulls them, gently, nodding to himself. He gets up and goes to the wall, with the colored tapes in his hands.
Thyrsis in the meantime has poured the powdered root—black confetti—into the pot which contains the flower and filled it up with wine from the punch-bowl on the floor. He comes to the wall at the same time, holding the bowl of poison.]
Thyr. Come and get your bowl of water, Corydon.
Cory. Ah, very good!—and for such a gift as that
I'll give you more than a bowl of unset stones.
I'll give you three long necklaces, my friend.
Come closer. Here they are. [Puts the ribbons about Thyrsis' neck.]
Thyr. [putting bowl to Corydon's mouth]. I'll hold the bowl
Until you've drunk it all.
Cory. Then hold it steady.
For every drop you spill I'll have a stone back
Out of this chain.
Thyr. I shall not spill a drop.
[Corydon drinks, meanwhile beginning to strangle Thyrsis.]