Thanks, everlasting thanks, ye gods! Forgive The doubting of a heart whose innocence Misdeemed her trod and torn. Oh, ye are near As light and air! KAN. Erinnyes, down, you hounds! There! (_giving her the jewel_). RHOD. Take it to the temple-hoard! I owe The gracious gods thank-offering opulent, And chiefly Her, All-Linker of earth’s love. From golden baskets shall her doves be given, To-day and ever, softest grains for picking; From marble beakers shall they quench their thirst; And you, Kandaules, you---- KAN. The youth will kiss, When thinking of his maiden, his own hand She pressed for greeting ere she took farewell; The man needs something more. RHOD. O happy day! You hold your wife so dear? Ah, then I beg you Forgive my close-hugged wrong. I inly fretted ’Twas pride in the possession more than love Lay in the feeling that enchains you to me, And your heart’s leaning flame must have the grudge Of others, if it be not wholly quenched. I fear that now no more. KAN. And nevermore Shall come that fear on you. I know what thing Set canker at your heart. You thought your sway Trenched on by Gyges, and ’tis true enough I passed full many a day with him for comrade, And nigh turned huntsman since himself is one. Yet that touched not your privilege’s pale, For that whereby the man and man are bonded Is null for woman, needed at her side As little as the war-mood for a kiss. Yet though I could but name your fear a folly I spare no means to bring you speedy healing, For, hear my word--my favourite, Gyges, goes! RHOD. What? KAN. And to-day. RHOD. Impossible! KAN. Would that Mislike you now? You seemed to wish it else. RHOD. O fool, that this, in drunken rush of joy, I could forget! KAN. Why, what? RHOD. Show me your hand! ’Twas he. He sudden stood before my eyes As though his outline, fiery-limned in air, Remained to trace him. Oh how terrible The tallying proof! Your hand! He has the ring. KAN. It is my very own. RHOD. Speak, have you not At some time laid it by since you have worn it? Lost it or missed the thing some other way? KAN. Unhappy soul! Why make flesh quail with shadows? RHOD. He shirks my test! You’re sending Gyges forth, And on the instant like a miscreant? And why? KAN. I said not that. He goes himself. RHOD. He goes himself? What drives him from among us? KAN. I do not know, nor have I questioned him. RHOD. You do not know? I’ll tell you then the wherefore, He’s done you viler shame than e’er was plotted And you must punish as you ne’er have punished. KAN.