Fie on those words, Rhodope! Past all doubt He’s noblest of the noble. RHOD. Is he so? How can you let him go without a tremor? KAN. For this, that even the goodliest, all unwilling, May spread in place of blessing secret curse. RHOD. Is that his case? And has himself then felt it? KAN. Well, if not that--his heart looks high, he aims At large emprise, ay, and he dares the venture. RHOD. You think that? KAN. There’s no throne too high for him, And if he goes and keeps his reasons hid-- But mark me, crown in hand he’ll be returning, And tell us with a smile:--“This drove me forth.” RHOD. Even so? KAN. Dear wife, the night’s unnerved your mind, The fright---- RHOD. Maybe. KAN. You heard this here, that there---- RHOD. And naught to hear! Myself gives half belief, For, now I mind me, sight as well was false. You have not doffed the ring since wearing it, You have not lost it, did not find it gone-- Yet still I had the thought--my glance was keen, And it was morning and I saw all else, ’Twas missing from your hand. So it would seem Sense tallies here with sense. The blinded eye Bears out the blunted ear. Then pardon me For giving you such hurt of heart, and grant An hour alone to balance my tossed mind. [KANDAULES _is about to speak_. ’Tis good, ay good! Forgive me, Sire, and go! [_Exit_ KANDAULES. RHOD. None other ’tis than Gyges--that is clear, And he has had the ring--that is still clearer, The King suspects, must do so--that is clearest! He’s bound the appalling deed appallingly T’avenge on him, yet suffers him escape. Thereby one riddle needs another riddle To solve it; and ’tis like to mad my brain If it be kept in shroud. A husband sees His wife defiled--defiled? Speak roundly--murdered! Murdered! Nay more, condemned herself to murder If this God-mocker pay not answering blood. The husband is a monarch, bears the sword Of Diké, nor need crave from the Erinnyes Her borrowed dagger; knows ’tis holy duty The hideous sin to punish, even if love Spur not revenge; is bound before the gods To yield their victim, if to me denied. And yet this husband, yet this monarch draws No sword, no dagger--lets the accursed fly! But that shall have its thwart; not more than he I lack for trusty servants; not as slave-girl, As royal daughter came I in this house, Ay, and my following was a royal one! I’ll summon them, old hearts of staunchest faith, And bid them baulk the runagate of flight; Then to Kandaules thus:-- “Lo, here am I; There is the favourite! Make your choice. This dagger Will pierce myself unless your sword pierce him!”