SCENE: The dinner-hour on the slave-fields of King Darniak.
(The Curtain rises upon King Argimēnēs, sitting upon the ground, bowed, ragged, and dirty, gnawing a bone. He has uncouth hair and a dishevelled beard. A battered spade lies near him. Two or three slaves sit at back of stage eating raw cabbage-leaves. The tear-song, the chaunt of the low-born, rises at intervals, monotonous and mournful, coming from distant slave-fields.)
KING ARGIMĒNĒS This is a good bone; there is juice in this bone.
ZARB I wish I were you, Argimēnēs.
KING ARGIMĒNĒS I am not to be envied any longer. I have eaten up my bone.
ZARB I wish I were you, because you have been a King. Because men have prostrated themselves before your feet. Because you have ridden a horse and worn a crown and have been called Majesty.
KING ARGIMĒNĒS When I remember that I have been a king it is very terrible.
ZARB But you are lucky to have such things in your memory as you have. I have nothing in my