# 41. “Gyges and His Ring”

*A tragedy by Friedrich Hebbel  
Performance at the Burgtheater, Vienna*

At last, after a period of unprecedented abuse, the Burgtheater brought us a stage event of the very highest order on Easter Monday. A number of admirers of Hebbel's muse have come together with the intention of erecting an artistically executed memorial plaque at the great poet's death house. This has already been completed by the talented artist Seebeck and is soon to be dedicated. It is also due to the efforts of these men that we have been delighted by one of Hebbel's most important works. Part of the net proceeds will be used to cover the costs of the memorial.

We believe that "Gyges and his Ring" has been conquered for the stage forever with this performance. No-one could ignore the great movement that runs through the play. The success was resounding. However, we must not forget that the performance took place in front of an extraordinarily select audience. The usual regular audience, which only recently proved its complete lack of taste and judgment with the warm reception of "Wilddiebe", was not there. Well, we'll see how the play fares at the second performance, where we will once again encounter the familiar owners of their privileged seats.

The fable of the play is the simplest imaginable. Candaules, the king of Lydia, is married to Rhodope, the daughter of the Oriental king, who comes from the land of her fathers with the opinion that a woman is forever dishonored if she is seen by another man besides her lawful husband. Rhodope has made this her concept of modesty the guiding principle of her life in the most embarrassing way. "Her veil is a part of her self." No one sees her without it. But Rhodope is a woman of supreme beauty, and Kandaules not only wants to possess this beauty, he also wants him to have a witness to this possession of his. Now the Greek Gyges lives at his court, who once found a ring that you only need to twist on your finger to make it invisible. Gyges gave this ring to his king. The latter now entices his servant to use the ring for one night to enter the king's bedchamber and thus convince himself of Rhodope's beauty by sight. This is what happens. But Rhodope realizes the sacrilege. And now dramatic conflicts arise that can only be spun by an important poet. In the fateful hour, Gyges has taken a diamond from the queen's neck. He gives it to the king. Rhodope, who is aware of the ring's existence, soon falls for the idea that Gyges may have committed the crime. She calms down a little when she sees that her husband owns the diamond and now believes that at least it has not been taken from her by an unappointed hand. The dramatic escalation as Rhodope gradually learns the true facts of the case, the guilt of her own husband, and the psychologically subtle depiction of Gyges' emotional struggle, make a powerful impression. There is only one thing left for the dishonored woman: Gyges, who has seen her, must become her husband; Kandaules, who caused the sacrilege, must fall from Gyges' hand. This is what Rhodope demands of the latter. And so it happens. The king falls in a duel against Gyges, but Rhodope kills herself after marrying Gyges, as her honor demands. The latter is proclaimed king by the Lydians. The outcome is significant and profound; by marrying Gyges, Rhodope has satisfied her people's notions of virtue, for she has only been seen by her husband; through her death she atones for the injustice of the murder of her first husband, which she necessarily caused because of this satisfaction.

Hebbel knew how to turn the rather insignificant fable reported in Herodotus into the great drama of the woman's wounded shamefulness. Everything that it brings flows from this basic principle. And therein the true poet shows himself: no sentence, indeed no word, is too much; one sees in everything that it must be so.

On the whole, the performance was a good one. Robert played Gyges soulfully and passionately; apart from a few passages in which he exaggerated, we must regard his conception as entirely accurate. Krastel does not actually speak very well when he appears in roles that involve a big, important move. The artificial pathos, which all too often turns into unnatural singing, is alienating. Apart from this flaw, however, his Kandaules is a significant achievement. Miss Barescu's Rhodope is not exactly perfect, but she has passages in which she finds the right notes and captivates. She should only let the imitation of Wolter show through less. If she succeeds in appearing more powerful and grandiose, especially in the third and fourth acts, then this role cannot be denied approval. Miss Formes played Lesbia, a small role, but one which again gave her enough opportunity to let her complete lack of talent shine.