Merchant.
She tasted not a morsel that thou placed
Before her.
Servant.
Lord, her modest maidenhood
Was like a noose about her throat; but yet
She ate some of the fruit.
Merchant.
Yes, one small seed,
I noticed that, 'twas a pomegranate seed.
Servant.
Then too she suddenly bethought herself
That wine, a blood-red flame in sparkling crystal,
Before her stood, and raised the splendid goblet
And drank as with a sudden firm resolve
The half of it, so that the color flooded
Her cheeks, and deep she sighed as with relief.
Merchant.
Methinks that was no happy resolution.
So acts the man who would deceive himself,
And veils his glance, because the road affrights him.
Servant.
Vain torments these: this is but women's way.
Merchant (looks about the room, smiles).
A mirror, too, I see thou hast provided.
Servant.
Thine own command, the mirror is thy mother's,
Brought hither from her chamber with the rest.
And thou thyself didst bid me, just this one ...
Merchant.
What, did I so? It was a moment, then,
When I was shrewder than I am just now.
Yes, yes, a youthful bride must have a mirror.
Servant.
Now I will go to fetch your mother's goblet
And bring the cooling evening drink.