SCENE 1

_A Hall_

_Enter_ KANDAULES _and_ GYGES. KANDAULES _buckles on his sword_. THOAS _follows with the diadem_.

KANDAULES.

To-day you’ll see what Lydia can achieve! I know you Grecians, though your necks are bended, Just for your standstill plight bear the old yoke With gnashing teeth and lip-curl at your lords. No thing on earth were easily invented You were not quick to better, were’t alone The crown you add, you set it on--and lo, The thing’s your work, you see that it is good!

[THOAS _hands him the diadem_.

Bring the new diadem! What use is this? Has your dolt’s hand the sword as well mistaken?

[_Looks at his sword._

Why yes, by Herakles whose feast we’re holding! What, Thoas, are you doddering ere your time?

THOAS.

I thought----

KAN.

Well, what?

THOAS.

Not for five hundred years Has King in other trapping graced the games Your Ancestor, the Puissant, has stablished, And when, the feast before, you made endeavour To oust the hallowed things from olden honour, The folk stood rooted, horrified, amazed, Muttering as ne’er before.

KAN.

And so you think I should have marked their gapes for my salvation? I’ve hit your thought?

THOAS.

Lord, not without a shudder I touch this diadem, and not till now Has hand of mine been closed on this sword’s hilt That all the seed of Herakles once brandished; But these new baubles I can see unblenching Like any other such as blinks and glances And is your own for paying of the price. Not on Hephaestus do I need to think, At sight of these, who for divine Achilles His weapons smithied,--ay, and in the fire Wherewith the thunderbolts for Zeus are steeled; Nor yet on Thetis, she who bade her daughters For him be fisherfolk of pearl and coral That thus his decking fail not of its fill. But _this_ sword--why, I knew the man that forged it, And him by whom _this_ diadem was pieced!

KAN.

Eh, Gyges!

THOAS.

Sire, fair faith speaks out of me! If I am overbold, ’tis for your welfare. Believe my words, the many thousand folk That stream t’assembly hither,--ay, albeit They walk in finer wool and fare the daintier,-- Are just as fond or pious-prim as I. This crown here and your head--these are for them, Your henchman vouches, halves of a single whole, And in like grade this sword here and your arm.

KAN.

And that’s the thought of all?

THOAS.

Yes, by my head!

KAN.

Then there’s no room for dawdling! Take them off And do what I have bid!

[THOAS _takes off the regalia_.

GYGES.

You’ve hurt the man.

KAN.

I know; but say, what else could I have done? ’Tis true what he has said; here the King’s worth Is gauged but by his crown, and the crown’s worth Owed to its rust. Woe to its furbisher! Brighter but lighter--gain and loss are matched. But why bemoan it if for just this once I so forgot me--sheer worn out, and loath Only by force of heirloom garb to glitter, Pass current just as minted coins pass current By take-for-granted worth, and share with statues That in the sacred temple-niches stand A blind and blockish sacrosanctity? You can’t undo what’s done.

[THOAS _comes with the new adornment_.

Ah, thus ’tis good!

[_He puts on the diadem._

That fits in place, and only what my realm Of pearls and precious jewels disenwombs From out the miner’s shaft or bed of ocean, Not more nor less, is here enharmonied. The noble stone that is not found among us, It matters not how fair, is straitly banned. I need not say I’ve left a place for such As are unearthed in the next hundred years. Now do you follow? (_To_ GYGES.) That one fitly suits Some massive giant-skull such as your sculptors Are wont to give my forebear for a head-piece, When in his lion-skin, with bulky club, Towering above a streamlet’s mossy rim, You make him useful as a children’s bogy.

[_He girds on the sword._

This sword is somewhat lighter than the old one; But that’s no loss--you’ll swing it, if you must, Not outside merely ’neath unhampered heaven Where giants at each other volley boulders,

[_He draws it and swings it._

No, but in space cramped human-small, like this! Then, Thoas, spare the pains of a third sermon, To-day I’ve heard the second.

THOAS.

Pardon, sire! And yet you know ’tis not the young man’s limbs In which a change of weather gives its warning, It is the old man’s bones that feel it first.

[_Exit._

GYGES.

He goes in sorrow!

KAN.

True; he’s loath to think That the next thunderbolt will now strike me; And that’s fast in his mind. I may, perhaps, Ere that can hap, be gulped into Earth’s entrails Unless, forsooth, the Minotaur appears! Such is their fashion; do not therefore think But light of them. This very day you’ll see Their fighting stuff.

GYGES.

And wish to join the fighting.

KAN.

What, Gyges?

GYGES.

Sire, I beg you for the boon.

KAN.

No, no! Beside myself you shall be seated That all may see how much I give you honour And will that all men give you honour-meed.

GYGES.

But if you honour me you’ll not refuse.

KAN.

You know not what you do. Know you the Lydians? You Grecians are a cunning folk; you set The others all to spinning, and you weave, And lo, a net wherein no piece of cordage Belongs to you, yet the whole thing’s your own! How easy ’twere to tighten, and how swift The wide world clutched in capture if the arm The fisher stretched were but a little stronger, The arm that should control! But there’s the rub! You have no trick to lure the nervy tendons From out our bodies, so with artful seeming We look much blinder than in truth we are, And with a covert laugh we bungle in Because a tiny fin-flick sets us free.

GYGES.

We celebrate these games as well.

KAN.

Yes, yes, After a fashion, ’mongst yourselves. There Dorians Grip with Ionians, and then, to cap it, It comes to this--Boeotians join the fray, And so you think that Ares’ self looks on And with a shudder marks your every blow. Gyges, had every prize that’s offered there Been won by you, still were I forced to warn you Avoid the lists e’en for the lowest guerdon. We’ve ever set a wild and bloody pace; But even a single twig of silver poplar, Such as to-day are in their thousands strown, Ventured by you, a Greek and in my graces, Would ne’er allow you scapement of your life.

GYGES.

And so I have your “yes”; no longer now Can you withhold consent.

KAN.

You take it so? I were best mute.

GYGES.

I came, Sire, not alone For begging. (_He brings forth a ring._) Take it! ’Tis a royal ring. You look on it, find naught of mark therein, You’re mazed I am so bold to make the offer, You’ll take it, too, as from a child a flower, To keep the poor and artless grace unwounded That plucked it for you, not because you’re pleased. It’s surface-show is meagre--true--and plain And yet you cannot, for your kingly realm, Purchase it for your own, nor yet with force, ’Spite all your power, turn robber ’gainst its wearer Unless of free consent he will the gift. You wear it so (_indicating with signs_) to make the metal rest With forward trend--’tis but a trinket-thing, Perchance not even as much, but give a twist Just so far round that with its tiny shine This stone of dullish red can fling its rays And presto! you are viewless and go striding Like gods enclouded up and down the world. Therefore contemn it not, for once again-- It is a royal ring, and this same day Long since I chose in which to make my present. ’Tis you alone may wear it, no one else.

KAN.

Why, things before unheard sent even to us Their rumouring; men spoke about a woman, Medea was her name, and arts she plied Such that the very moon was earthwards chanted; But never have I heard of such a ring. Where did you get it, then?

GYGES.

From out a grave. From out a grave that lies in Thessaly.

KAN.

You oped a grave and sacrileged its peace?

GYGES.

Nay, nay, my King--I found it oped to hand. I only crept therein to slip from robbers Toward hid retreat, for they in whelming odds Were hot-foot on my track and harried me As I, by some adventurous prompting driven, Of late a desolate wooded mountain ranged. The urns were overthrown and spilt their ashes, In touching disarray the shards were scattered, And in the sickly shaft of westering sunlight That pierced a passage through the chinkéd wall I saw a wisp of pallid dust was swaying. It rose before me as the final motes That vestige death, and turned my mood so eerie That, lest my fellow-flesh, my very fathers Perchance, be mixed with my unconscious breathing, Long time I held the air within my breast.

KAN.

Well? And the robbers?

GYGES.

Found my every trace Was vanished, so it seemed, for far and farther Their dwindling voices died, and now I thought me Already safe assured, although not yet I left my glimmering retreat. As now In such a plight I cramped upon my knees My sight fell suddenly upon this ring. From out the wreckage heaped in tangled waste Its stone, as though it were a living thing, Half minding me of some sharp serpent’s eye, Shot sparkles at me. Straight I raised it up, I blew the ashes from it and I spoke:-- “Who bore thee once on his long-mouldered finger?” And then, to see if ’twere a man had worn it, I put it on, and scarce the deed was done When from without rang--“Halt! He must be here! See you the grave? Then onward, onward, comrades! We have our man!” and quick appeared the troop. But I was loath, like some defenceless beast Harried into a hole, to suffer slaughter, And springing forth I charged impetuous--flashing Full at them, in my hand the lifted sword. The sun was near the dipping of its disc And streaming, like a candle destined soon To quench its glow, with doubly vivid ray. But they, as though for them alone the night Outran its hour, stormed on with furious curses Passing me by, and ringed them round the grave. They raked it through, and, as I still was hid, Cried out in scorn--“What odds? We’d find he bore Nothing upon him but the truculent eye That with its taunting glance so roused our rage; Some other soon enough will blow _that_ out!” Then once again, but with chagrin’s slow footsteps, Peering around and in my face even staring, They passed me by and I was still unseen.

KAN.

And then you thought----

GYGES.

Not on the ring--not yet. My notion was a god had wrought a wonder To save me, and upon my knees I flung me And thus to the Invisible One I spoke:-- “I know not who thou art, and if from me Thy face thou hid’st, I cannot slay for thee The beast that is thy consecrated due; But for a sign that I have thanks at heart And lack not courage, I will bring to thee The fiercest of these robbers as thy meed, And this I swear, how hard soe’er it prove.” I hastened after them and slipped amid Their company, and I was seized with shudders Before myself, to see how I alone Was marked not of them, how they spoke together, As I were air and void, right through my form And through it even handed bread and wine. My eyes grew overveiled and ranging fell Upon the ring-set stone whose radiance red And brilliant from my hand was scintillating With restless well and swell and pearly bubbling Puffed into vapour; and it seemed an eye That ever breaks in blood which ever steams. I turned it, sheer compelled, to make confession, Sheer terrified; for all these pearls were glinting Like just as many stars; it touched my mood As though the pure ethereal stream of light Lay naked to mine eyes and I were blind From overglory, as the harmony They tell of in the spheres makes all men deaf. But straight I felt me in a lusty grip And “What is this? Hey! Who held him concealed? A pretty joke!” was ringing in my ears. And now ten fists were grappling for my throttle, Ten others made to rip my raiment from me, And I had surely met inglorious end Had not the clumsiest fist of all the mob Held back to snatch the ring; for suddenly The cry was raised--“Hallo! He is not poor! Here’s a fine fish i’ the net! See, blinking gold, Ay, and a precious stone! Come, here with it!” But almost in the selfsame-taken breath Rang out--“A god, a god is come among us!” And lo, they all were lying at my feet!

KAN.

Just as their hands about the ring were scrambling They turned it round again and went a-quiver As you evanished like a shape of cloud.

GYGES.

It must be so. But now I turned it back, At last initiate in its mystic secret, And filled with pride and recklessness I called, “A god! Even so! And each pays penance due!” Then hot-foot set upon them. Horror-struck, As though I bore within my hands the thunder And at my side new modes of death in thousands, They scarce retained the heart and strength for flight. But I was on their heels as though compelled To act the vicar in the Furies’ office, And not a soul came free of my revenge. I would have rendered to the grave its ring, But though I’d strewn the way with bloody corses That marked the backward path, neither at evening Nor yet with morning could it be discovered, And so against my will the ring was mine.

KAN.

Such treasure has no peer.

GYGES.

Said I not so? A royal ring! Then take it, Royal One!

KAN.

Not till the battle’s ended.

GYGES.

Sire, since then I never have and ne’er again will wear it. So niggard of your wood? O fie! A forest Will not be needed for my funeral pyre; A single tree’s enough, and trust this arm, You’ll get remittance of the single tree.

KAN.

Then give’t! I’ll test it.

GYGES.

And I’ll weapon me.

[_Exeunt._