I H IIW H «r-s# | LIBRARY OF CONGRE SS. $ !f P ts.i^wf | | UNITED STATES OF AMERICA j SAPPHO A TRAGEDY frt ^fifa gicfs BY STELLA / AUTHOR OF 'RECORDS OF THE HEART' 'THE KING'S STRATAGEM ; OR THE PEARL OF POLAND' ETC. n & OF C,;; e v cc \ 1875 ^ , N o_. LONDON TRtFBXER & CO., 57 & 59 LUDGATE HILL 1875 *W Z rights reserved TS* 2-4-fc fe -5 5 S3 TO ADELAIDE RISTORI DEL GR1LLO THE GREATEST LIVING TRAGEDIENNE ®jjis grama is Jlsbicateb BY HER DEVOTED FRIEND THE AUTHOR PROLOGUE. For all who out of self an hour can go, Into another's heart and feel its woe — Its burning wounds, its pains, its pangs unknown Its hopes, its joys, its sorrows make their own — Whose spirits, softened in the school of Dole, Feel finest vibratings of a great soul, And all its solemn mysteries solve aright, "We lift the curtain of the past to-night. Ye're here. With simple mien and eyes aglow, And hearts of tempered fire, and souls of snow, I see you there mid beauty's proud display, Like bright stars seated in the Milky Way. The present and its cares behind you cast, And live this evening in the classic past ! There face to face th' immortal Lesbian meet, And hear her pulses throb, her great heart beat ; Now softly, joyous as a marriage bell, Now sadly, solemn as a funeral knell, And ken upon her spirit's stormy sky, Reflections of the true divinity. Ages ere the star of Bethlehem arose, And shook for aye. Olympian Jove's repose. See proud Athena), like the Phoenix rise, And with her brazen temples prop the skies ; VI PKOLOGUE. Gardens and groves, th' Acropolis expand, Beneath the wise usurper's* fostering hand ; Survey the Dionysia — king and sage, Poet and peasant in its sports engage. High, low, rich, poor, all to one level sunk, Pleasure and wit run mad, a nation drunk. Next, see before Olympian umpires throng The famed disputants for the wreath of song, Each holding in his hand a little scroll. Then hear old Solon's lofty numbers roll, .iEsop, Alceeus, and Stesichorus sing; Anacreon, like the skylark on the wing, His dewy notes upon the mute air fling ; List to Erinna — thrill to Sappho's lyre, As through your bosoms runs its quickening fire ; Follow her to Olympia — see her crowned — The sacred laurel round her temples wound ; Then like a falling star, thorns in her crown, Into the pitiless Sea of Leucate go down. * Pisistratus. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Phaon, a young Shepherd. Alc-SEls, a Poet of Lesbos. Pisistrattjs, King of Athens. Phalaris, King of Agrigentum. Solon, the Athenian Lawgiver. iEsop, the Fabulist. Thespis, the Tragedian. Stesichortts, Lnventor of the Chorus. Anacreon, Lyric Poet. Theognis, Poet of Magara. Ibyctjs, Poet of Ltaly. MixEHirus, Poet of Ionia. Charaxtts, Brother to Sappho. Cxrrrs, a Harper, and Slave to Sappho. Cosmo, an Emissary of Pisistrattjs. Soothsayer, a Slave to Sappho. Apollo. sJLo^tfMUylme. G 1 £ (3 WR , l^ f€**]4 Ehodope, her Nurse. Erestna, Athis, Anactoria, Nasldica, Unica, and GONGYLA, ' Doeicha, a Slave Venus. Pupils of Sappho. Officers — People — Sailors — Slaves. Scene of Act I., Mitylene ; of Acts LI. and LIL, Athens; of Act IV., Sicily; of Act. V., Ionia. SAPPHO ACT I. SCENE I. A room in Sappho's house at Mityhne. Busts of Homer, Apollo, and the Muses in niches. Lyres, harps, and lutes around a table, centre. Enter Erinna. Athis, Unica, Gongyla, Anac- torta, and Nasidica, right, with flowers, and take their places at the table. sappho (entering, left, with a branch of myrtle in her hand) Good morn, dear pupils, each a sweet good morn, And many sweet thanks for these smiles of Flora, Which pnt to flight unwelcome melancholy, And shrive my heart. Ye have been to the concerts of the birds — Sweetest sopranos, tenors, and contraltos — Essay to weave their melody in verse For this day's lesson : Bring me the soul of song in chastest garb, And not a corpse bedecked with gaudy tinsel : Now court the Muses with the poet's ardour, Whilst I go forth to watch the eagle's flight. s, [She pauses at Homer's bust, at left door 2 SAPPHO. [act i. ATHIS These lessons are not worth the time they kill. UNICA My thoughts are not obedient to my will. GONGYLA Before I came to Sappho's school my thoughts Ran into poetry as naturally As music flows from lark's mellifluent throat ; Now with a hesitating step they come, Like cur bless coursers to receive the bit. ANACTORIA Song never was and never can be taught. Think'st if Alcgeus had been Homer's pupil He could create a second Iliad ? No more than I can write an Odyssey Because I'm pupil of the Sapphic Muse. ATHIS If Sappho be a Muse, I am a, goddess. ANACTOKIA Tenth Muse the poets of the time have styled her. ATHIS Her gold, and not her genius, bought that title. Before she wed the merchant prince of Andros The critics could not hear the Lesbian's lyre ; Its golden strings then made such wondrous music, All Greece got drunk on joy, and cried ' Tenth Muse ! ' SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 3 ANACTORIA Alcseus always praised the Lesbian's song. ATHIS Alcoeus is a hoary doting fool, As old men always are when they're in love. 'Tis known when Sappho wedded Cercolas For gold — not love — Alcseus went stark mad, Upset the tables, beat to death his servants, Spnrred on his steeds till they fell dead beneath him, And played the devil till her husband left her, And Pittacus, to save her reputation, Sent him to Egypt. ERINNA Silence ! her name is written on the stars In letters that will live as long as they. ATHIS List to the champion of the Lesbian's fame ! She pleads her case like lawyer double-fee'd. All Mitylene swear that Sappho's mad : What good can rumour of a woman say Who writes more love-songs than Anacreon ; Spends half her nights in babbling with the stars, And gives the other half to clamorous lovers ? erinna I'll hear no more against our noble Sappho, Who is as chaste as Dian — great as Homer. ATHIS As great as Homer 1 Of poetry she knows no more than I : b 2 4 SAPPHO. [act She writes no better poetry than I ; Yet, yesterday, she cut and slashed my poem Until beginning had it none, nor ending. So slashed she mine. NASIDICA UNICA She tore mine into pieces. GOXGTLA She struck mine out with one dash of her pen. ANACTORIA A day agone I wrote an ode to Love The which she ground to powder twixt her fingers. ATHIS She is an envious pedagogue. I hate her. EEINNA (rising') Silence, ungrateful maids ! Poor half-fledged bard- lings, Whose lyres will ne'er be heard in Fame's proud temple. Posterity will only know you as The pupils Lesbian Sappho loved and taught. Doth she not shelter, feed you, teach you gratis ? Toil like a slave to purge your minds of darkness, And fill them with th' eternal light of Zeus ? Great, high-souled Sappho ! envied, slandered, and Misunderstood by those who ought to know Thee best, and prize thee more than wealth of Croesus, I love thee with a reverential love SCENE I.] SAPPHO. That I can only feel for one who wears The mantle of Divinity. Sappho (rushing forward) Erinna, guardian angel of my fame, I honour, love thee for thy sense of justice ! [To her puj My generous pupils, I will not detain you, Retire, and bring me each an ode on slander. ['Exeunt pupils. Erinna, let me weep upon thy bosom : I heard that colocution — let it pass. It cut into my soul — but let it pass ; It is the price of fame. I have stood face to face with Death — but Slander, Ingratitude, are foes more terrible : Death strikes and leaves us conscious of no ill — They deeper stab, and stab, but do not kill. [Sobs. ERINNA Sappho, Apollo's darling, do not weep, An army of such babblers could not harm thee. SAPPHO Erinna, purest, best Erinna, I Am not impervious to the beggar's frown. I am so organised, so finely strung To all the higher harmonies of being, The sting of Zeus's smallest, creeping thing Can shake my soul into its very centre. ERINNA Methought the poet's world revolved so far Above this world he heard nor felt its motion. 6 SAPPHO. [act i. SAPPHO The poet fills the largest human orbit. As is the ocean to the streams that form it, So is the poet to his fellow-kind — His nature holds a myriad of smaller beings. Was not old Homer mightier far than Troy, And all the Grecian hosts that girt her round ? Combined, they could not lift the grand old bard, But in his mighty mind he took them up And, battling, set them on the heights of Fame For centuries unborn to gaze upon. ERINNA What is this power that overreaches Jove's ? SAPPHO Poetry is the lightning of great souls, Which Jove-appointed poets chain in words And set unto the music of the spheres. ERINNA Then is the Lesbian happy — SAPPHO O Erinna ! ERINNA What more wouldst ask of Heaven than be a poet, Jove's chosen chainer of immortal fires ? SAPPHO Food for my famished heart — undying love. ERINNA Thou art Apollo's darling — heiress of Jove. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 7 SAPPHO Alas ! I starve upon such pabulum. EKIXXA Hellas adores thee. SAPPHO That is adoration Which stimulates, but does not satisfy. EPJXXA Erinna loves thee — is not this enough ? SAPPHO Sweet, artless child ! Thy love to Sappho's heart Comes like the perfume of a vernal flower — It soothes and calms, but does not nourish it. EPJXXA Alcaeus loves the Lesbian more than life. SAPPHO Alcaeus doth not understand love's meaning Within my heart's interpretation of it. A pretty face, a soft bewitching smile. A fairy hand bewilder him an hour, Then lie upon bis memory like dead perfume : I seek a deep and all-abiding love, That could not see a hump upon my back Though it were large as Atlas : love whose eyes Would vest me with the charms of Aphrodite Though 1 were hideous as the hag of»Endor ; A love whose fires shall burn as jvild as i£tna*> ; A love whose light shall warm and thrill like Sdl's ; 8 SAPPHO. [act i. A love whose power shall hold my soul at anchor, And leave me nought in heaven or earth to crave. ERIXNA Such love is but for gods. SAPPHO Such is for mortals. Last night I dreamed I sat beside the sea Gazing upon the full round moon above me, When twixt me and her face a youth appeared With form and features radiant as a god's. His golden hair, luxuriant as a woman's, Flowed backward from his Adonean brow, And from the liquid azure of his eyes Flashed fires that burned into my soul. Approaching, With matchless grace he dropped upon his knee, And in a voice that was all music, said — ■ ' Immortal Sappho ! at thy feet I lay The adoration that thy songs inspire. To Athens come, and I will be thy slave.' My future's interwoven with that youth — I will consult the gods, and know the truth. To-day from Athens I await Alcasus, Who shall depeint me all the Athenian youths — What if he prove the young Anacreon With whom I am already half in love ? EEINNA The youth is but the phantom of thy dream. SAPPHO When Reason nods the spirit oft steals forth To try its pinions on the soul's highways : $ SCEXE I.] SAPPHO. This was some mighty soul of fire unsphered, That in its meteor flight flashed on my vision, ERINNA Thou wert asleep, and therefore couldst not see it. SAPPHO My spirit from its prison-house had stolen In quest of larger spheres of thought and feeling, EEINNA Dost thou believe the soul can leave its temple Ere that Jove send revokeless summons for it ? SAPPHO High, restless souls that long to look beyond Narrow horizons of their bounded visions, Will from their tabernacles find egress, And, spanning space, confront omniscient Jove. ERINNA Dost think the spirits of the dead return ? SAPPHO The air, from heaven to earth, and earth to heaven, Is full of spirits. ERINNA Where ? I nothing see ! SAPPHO * As the blind see not the visitants who come To minister unto their needs, but through The ear take in the finest shades of meaning, 10 SAPPHO. [act i. Through sense auricular we viewless hold Communion with the spirits of the air — father ! Mother ! Child ! I hear your pinions, And feel your love descend into my heart As dew into the parched lips of the flower ! ERINNA 1 nothing hear, and fear that thou art mad. SAPPHO If this be madness, then is madness bliss, Jove's wisest disposition of our wits When Fate hath driven our bark upon the quicksands, And all our household gods are lost. Erinna ! If I could put a tongue into my woes, And make them speak, they'd break thy gentle heart ; If I could turn thine eyes into this bosom, And make them see the wreck and ruin there — The lonely wastes, the herbless tracts of sorrow, The desolation wrought by ruthless wrong, The pent up fires that make its heaven a hell — Thy life would flow away in piteous tears. But for one star to me this world were starless — [Falls on her knees and points to an aureola. Behold ! 'Tis Peace descending in my heart ! My soul, wide-lipped, imbibes its holy light — It is the star that will eclipse the night ! rhodope (entering) Sapphie, Alcseus is arrived — Sappho (rising) Alceeus ! SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 1 1 EHODOPE Ay, ay, Alcseus, smiling- like a boy ; Methinks at sight of thee he'll die of joy. Dus^y, and travel-worn right from the sea,. Like prisoned bird uncaged, he flew to thee. SAPPHO Swift let the dear old eagle perch before me. [Exit Rhodope. How nrach I've suffered since I saw Alcseus ! How many sorrows and misfortunes known Since Pittacus thrust half the earth betwixt us ! Enter Alc^ius. She flies into Ids arms* Alcseus ! dearest ! ALGOUS My divinity ! My star amid the storm on land and sea I — Ami awake, ye gods ? Is this the Lesbian I hold against my wildly beating heart ? Or some fair phantom of a cruel dream ? Let me look in thy face — thy love-lit eyes, And taste the rosy nectar of thy lips. It is indeed my Muse I — sun, moon, and stars Put out your lamps ! Her smile illumes the world. Erinna ! How thou'st grown since last I saw thee ? SAPPHO (sohhing) In thy long absence she has been my friend — My sweet condoler in the vale of tears. ALCJJUS The gods propitious to Erinna be ! 12 SAPPHO. [act i. SAPPHO Now on sweet restful couch recline, Alcseus, And glad my ears with wildest tales of travel ; Depeint old Nile, and Egypt's dusky daughters — Sicily, Athens, and the Athenian court — My soul's athirst for something new and strange. ALC^us (reclining) Thou dost ask much of one so travel- weary. SAPPHO Erinna, dearest, order wine and fruit. [Exit Eeinna. A little wine will set thee up, Alcseus, And make thy tongue as nimble as of yore. ALOffiJUS The sweetest wine that Hebe ever poured To please the palates of Olympian gods Would equal not the nectar of thy presence — The balmy, breathing incense of thy smile — The inebriating music of thy voice. I only ask to sit, and look at thee, And dream of love — and love's divinity Till envy, wrong, dissension, strife depart, And leave the sweet millennium of the heart. O violet-crowned, pure, sweetly- smiling maid ! The glory of the lyre ! by Jove arrayed In all that fascinates, allures, inspires, Fling not back on my heart its deathless fires That shut lip in my bosom through long years, Like ^Etna's flames, have fed and throve on tears ; But unto me thy priceless heart- wealth give, • And in thy hallowed presence let me live, SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 13 The happiest man that Hymen ever knew, Or sweet food from the shrine of Venus drew ! Re-enter Ebinna, followed by a Slave with wine and fruit. SAPPHO Here is our isle's best wine ; Alcseus, drink. ALGOUS {drinking) May Venus to the Lesbian be propitious, And twine her second nuptial knot with myrtle ! SAPPHO (drinking') Upon Aleasus may the goddess smile, And strew his path with Hymen's sweetest flowers ! Now, for old Xile. ALOffiUS With Egypt I was charmed — With Isis and Osiris all enchanted. Half way to Heaven I scaled the Pyramids, And from the pinnacles of demigods Surveyed the wonders of Sesostris' Land. Beneath me gazed upon the horrid Spliynx — Fell shaper of the fate of CEdipus — But Theba, with her hundred brazen gates, And troops of black-eyed beauties took me captive And had my heart been free from Sapphic spell, With Theba I had been content to dwell. SAPPHO Enough of Egypt's sirens. Paint the tempest That cast thee on the coast of Sicily — I like the grandeur of a storm at sea. 14 SAPPHO. [act i. ALC^US With prosperous sail and hearts elate with joy, We fast were making Agrigentum's port, When from Olympus Jove let loose his thunder ; Wrapt the blue Leaven in intermittent flame, And rocked the ocean like an infant-cradle ; Shook from the yards the pallid mariners, And swept away the mizzen like a straw. A little while the staunch ship braved the tempest, Parried its blows like skilful duellist, Then, staggered, reared, and pitched, like frighted steed, Rolled on her beam-ends, like a vanquished wrestler, And, with a wail that startled hell, went down. SAPPHO O wondrous picture ! Living, breathing, speaking, Loud as the seahounds howled above her grave ! — I'd barter half the sweetest life to see The death of such a ship in such a sea — To fight a duel with such enemy, 'Twould woof my song with realistic beams — Nerve, sinew, daring, never born of dreams. Why is old Homer greatest of all poets ? Because he mingled in the battle's din, And trod the sheaf-strown harvest-fields of Death ; Measured the statures of full-blooded passions — Souls high as heaven — and low as lowest hell — Go on, Alcseus, Pegasus I've tied ALC^US Upon a spar, at last, I reached the shore, And found me in the palace of Plialaris, Who, though a savage, proved a sovereign friend : SCENE I.J SAPPHO. 15 Fed me and clothed me ; watched my fevered couch And when the gods restored to me sweet health, Showed me his bull wherein he roasts his victims, Read me his letters, models of high art, Led me np loftiest towers at eve to view Mad iEtna vomit fire : And with true princely hospitality, Sent me to Athens in his royal galley. SAPPHO Go on ; I'm hungry for Athenian news. Discourse of Athens and Pisistratus, And all the handsome gallants at his court. ALC.EUS Athens is growing 'neath the Tyrant's hand : Gardens he's built beyond th' Acropolis Wherein the youths of Athens fence and wrestle ; A temple to Olympian Jove commenced ; One to Apollo ; one to Dionysus ; A library collected ; schools established ; And now is bringing Homer's soul to light. SAPPHO The gods protect the Poet's royal friend ! ALOE US. The Tyrant is beset by many foes : Old Solon and his laws he has adopted, But old Megacles is his enemy, Because he will not share his daughter's couch, And rear up kings from that accursed stock : Anon he'll join the party of Lycurgus, And hurl the Tyrant from th' Athenian throne. 16 SAPPHO. [act i. SAPPHO Now, let us have a portrait of the man. ALOHUS Pisistratus is neither tall nor short, Heavy nor lithesome, handsome, nor ill-favoured, But full broad-browed, broad-chested, like a Spartan, And looks the warrior twice more than the king. SAPPHO A portrait capitally drawn. Go on, Old bard. ALC2ETJS The tyrant is ambitious To make his court the cynosure of Greece, And in his diadem of glory set The brightest stars of art and poetry. Now, dwelling at his < ourt are painters, poets ; The young Anacreon SAPPHO Anacreon ! How looks he ? Is he handsome, straight, crook'd hunched, Azure-eyed, gold en -haired, Apollo-like ? ALC^US He's straight when he's not drunk, which being often, He's often crook'd. His hair and eyes are dusky ; His nose large, pugged, and winey SAPPHO Draw the others. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 17 ALC^US Stesichorus is handsome, tall, and stately ; Theognis hoary ; ^Esop short and hunched ; Solon stont ; Thespis withered ; Ibycus Yonng, nectar-lipped ; Minermns Adonean. SAPPHO Go on ! I'm dying ! ALC^TJS Agrigentum's stern, Stoic, and savage-looking as his deeds. Hath a high brow, lantern jaws, hooked nose, wide month, Teeth long, thick, yellow, like a cannibal's, And always has his bull upon his lips. sappho {aside to erinna) My phantom's not among the portraitures. ALC^TJS But I forget Pisistratus' commands. I am the bearer of his royal summons For Sappho to attend the Dionysia, And with the bards of Greece contest the laurel. SAPPHO A summons from Pisistratus to Atheus ! ALOEUS His royal galley waits thee in the bay Kolus willing, we'll depart to-day. c 18 SAPPHO. [act i. SAPPHO Now am I happy ! Now will see Athenge ! The Court, Pisistratns, Theognis, Solon, Stesichorus, the famed Anacreon, And with them at the games contest the laurel— What if I win it, dear Alceeus, what ? ALOffiUS Why, kneeling in the temple of Olympia, The umpire on thy brow shall set the crown Of glory, and amid the acclamations Of Greece assembled I will lead thee forth. SAPPHO Erinna must go too. ALC.EUS And so she shall. SAPPHO gods ! receive my thanks, and bless Alcseus For this most unexpected happiness ! Erinna, sweetest, hasten to Charaxus, And warn him to come hither for leave-taking : Apprise my pupils of my swift departure, And bid my slaves be ready at the tide To follow me to Athens in my galley : Then, tell my soothsayer I'd speak with him. [Exit Erinna. Alcseus dear, one favour ere we go. You know Charaxus, youngest of our house, And of my brothers dearest to my heart : With one Doricha. an Egyptian slave, Whom recently he purchased on the Nile, SCENE I.] SAPPHO. I 9 He is in love, and wills, I fear, to wed : Dissnade him from an act so blemishing. ALC^IUS I'd try to swim old Styx if Sappho bade it ; But if Charaxus will to wed Dorieha, Olympian Jove cannot avert the act. I know the fatal spell of her dark beanty Upon man's heart : within her coil she's held Half royal Egypt. Love will brook no curb, Else had I pat it on him long ago. I'm not Alcasus — I am Sappho, or A thing so chained to her I seem the same. My slumbering lyre wakes only to her bidding ; My heart, my pulse beat not for me, but her ; 'Tis not my soul that holds this house of clay, But hers that rules it with a regal sway. My feuds with Pittacus ; my feats in battle ; Long years of exile ; rovings in strange lands O'er pathless seas, confronting death and dangers, Were streams wherein I sought to slake the fires That, gnawing^ burned into my heart of heart ; But time, tide, ocean failed to quench the flame : If to the stars I looked, there were thine eyes: If on the flowers I gazed, there were thy smiles : If in my heart I turned my tearful glance, There was thine image sitting at the altar. glorious Sappho ! matchless Muse divine ! Now end my sorrows at the nuptial shrine ! SAPPHO Alcaeus, dear, my father's friend, and mine, Without thy smile the world would lampless be — c 2 20 SAPPHO. [act i ALCJ1US Then thou dost love me ? Oh ! at last, at last, I've won the prize of Greece. The youngest Muse, Apollo's darling, heiress of Olympus. Oh ! let me kneel to thee : let me adore thee, My light, my life, my soul, my Deity ! Say, only once, ' I love thee,' and my heart Shall set it to the music of thy voice, And sing it in the concerts of the angels. SAPPHO 1 love thee best of mortals. ALCMTJS O ye gods, Let me not die of joy upon joy's brink ! And thou wilt wed me ? SAPPHO If I ever wed Again, my father's friend shall be my bridegroom. ALGOUS Omnipotent ruler of both heaven and earth, At last thou'st heard and answered my sole prayer. Accept my thanks and boundless gratitude For this thy greatest and most precious gift. SAPPHO Alcseus, good Alcasus, bear with me : Be patient with my foibles and my fancies : I am a wayward child -ill understood Of men, and oft a stranger to myself; SCENE I.J SAPPHO. 21 But, wherewithal, endowed with love of justice Aud duty, Jove alone can comprehend. I would not wrong thee for the wealth of Crcesus, Xor trifle with thy great heart's noble passion ; But, urge nie not to don the nuptial chain : It was so heavy in my younger days ; So galling wore into my soul's fine quick, I fear I could not wear it with meet grace Ere friendly Time have medicined its wounds : Meantime, let me lean on thy generous love, And look up to thee as my demigod. I am so lonely in this world of woe ; So many faithless reeds have broke beneath me, That I could worship one firm, faultless staff. ALOUUS I will not urge thee to the nuptial altar : I have thy promise, and will wait thy time. Lean on my love, mine honour, all thy weight. It would be light, though fifty times as great. Henceofrth, on land or sea, whate'er the weather, The desert of this life we'll walk together. [E:dt. sappho (hieeiing) Hear me, almighty Jove ! This is a moment Upon whose dizzy pinnacle I tremble, And heavenward stretch my suppliant hands to thee ! Steady my footsteps, and around me fling The sacred mantle of divinity ! Illumine my way with new-trimmed lamps of wisdom That I may see the dangers lurking there, And how to walk in harmony with thee ! Thrust thy strong arm 'twixt me and secret foes — 22 SAPPHO. [act i. Envy and hate, and all their horrid brood, That at each upward step, like hungry wolves, Bound from their hiding-places to devour And tear in shreds the bold and daring climber ! SOOTH, {entering') Lady, I'm here in answer to thy bidding. SAPPHO Dost thou foresee the end of all these things ? SOOTH. With these old time-dimmed eyes I nothing see ; But to my spirit's vision all is clear. [Aside. Would that I could not see, or she were wise ! SAPPHO Why then, old seer, dost hesitate ? Go on ! SOOTH. At the Athenian court awaits thee homage Such as the Queen of Sheba ne'er received. SAPPHO Amidst the crowd beholdst a fair-haired youth On bended knee ? SOOTH. Oft on his knee I see him. [Aside. Oh ! that the gods had ta'en him at his birth ! Men clothed in beauty's garb are beauty's foes, SAPPHO Upon whose brow will fall the laurel ? SCENE *.] SAPPHO. 23 SOOTH. Sappho's : 'Fore bards and Greece, assembled at Olympia, The Lesbian will be crowned. SAPPHO Enough, they come. Re-enter Algous, Erinna, and Pupils, right ; Char- axus, Doricha, and Slaves, left. Thou'rt bold, Charaxus, to confront me with Thy slave. charaxus My slave ! Was beauty e'er a slave ? She had her birth in heaven, and is as free To shed her quickening light abroad as Sol. My heart was dead until Doricha smiled On it ; then, as the Phoenix from its ashes, It leaped up, quivering with eternal life. SAPPHO To-day, at tide, I leave our native Lesbos, And by all laws of Jove forbid your union ! CHARAXUS And by all laws of Jove I thee defy, And to my bosom clasp my love, my light, my life. SAPPHO Fear'st not to clasp the serpent of old Nile ? CHARAXUS Sappho, I nothing fear from thee nor thine ! I love Doricha — and Doricha's mine ! 24 SAPPHO. [act i. ALCvEUS Charaxus, it were better not to wed her. CHAEAXUS Not for the wealth of Croesus I'd forego it. SAPPHO By heaven, Charaxus, if thou wed'st that siren Brother of mine I never more will call thee ! CHARAXUS Doricha's more to me than worlds of Sapphos ! sappho (to her pupils) Doubtless ye bring me each a noble poem. PUPILS We could not write upon the theme you gave us. SAPPHO 'Tis strange ! You talked exceeding well upon it ! With good Alcseus I depart to-day, In answer to a summons from Pisistratus To tend the Dionysia at Olympia, And with the bards of Greece contest the laurel. Much time and gold I've spent to prune your minds, A.nd sow in them the seeds of lofty thought ; To teach you virtue and a chaste deportment — The art of beauty's most approved adornment. To-morrow to your several homes return, And practise on the lessons yeVe received : Study self-conquest — how to draw the curb SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 25 Upon your tongues when they 'fore reason rnn ; What thoughts become a modest maid to utter ; How much to say, and how much not to say, And learn that victory over self is glory Greater than over mighty armies. Of poesy I little more can say : Who hath within his soul most poetry Is highest, greatest, nearest unto Jove ; And who hath none is an oblivious being, Not worth a place in Nature's harmony. Athis, and Anactoria, Nasidica, Unica, and Gongyla, fare ye well ! pupils (kneeling) Sappho, forgive us ! SAPPHO I forgive ye all, And may the gods be mindful of your weal ! [Exeunt all but Sappho, tvho takes up her golden bjre and violently sweeps the strings. Oh, I must drink of Lethe or go mad ! Clitus, come in, and play my nerves to sleep, Ere I entrust me to old Neptune's arms ! l Clitg:s enters with his harp and plays to her while she reclines on a couch with her fingers straying listlessly over her lyre strings. Thou mak'st thy harp talk like a lovelorn soul Drunk on Nepenthe. Its discoursings run Solemnly beautiful and love-awaking. [Aside. O gods ! wherefore this heart-hunger ? This gnawing, Insatiable cankerworm ? — Play not another note, or thou wilt madden me ! 26 SAPPHO. [act t. CLITUS Thy will is law, Muse. SAPPHO Call my soothsayer, Then hold thyself apart, and silently. [Enter Sooth. What is my future ? Is it hell or heaven ? sooth. Lady, methinks 'tis both : sometimes the one, Sometimes the other. SAPPHO An s wer with precision . Hath Jove created for my soul a twin, Or made me lone and orbless as the comet ? SOOTH. More like the comet, lady, than ought else — Fashioned to win the world's wild wonderment. SAPPHO Is Venus favourable to my dream ? SOOTH. Knit-browed, the ireful goddess views thy phantom, And Cupid laughs to scorn thy love-sick longings. Thou wert not made for love, nor love for thee ; Give all thy thoughts to Jove and poesy. SAPPHO Go, get thee gone ! sooth, (aside, going) Unwelcome truths wear stings. [Exit. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 27 sappho (sadly) I know that my inheritance is song — From my far heavenward-reaching soul. I know it — And that I am coheiress with the Mne ; Bnt do I hold my birthright in Parnassus Upon rendition of all priceless heart-wealth ? No, no ; Jove is too great for bartery ; Too high to trade upon his holiest gifts ! Poesy from Eros is a boon apart : One is food for the heart, the other the soul ; The one belongs to earth, the other heaven — CI it us, art there ? CLITUS Ay, Muse, SAPPHO My heart's on fire, Flaming like a shut-up hell new faggot-fed ; And I must forth to supplicate Astarte To put it out. Follow me at a distance — touch thy harp Only when I'm dead drunk on weal or woe. [ Exeunt. 28 SAPPHO. [act i. SCENE II. An arm of the sea. A cluster of myrtles in the foreground. An altar to Venus, right, surmounted by a statue of the goddess. One to Apollo, left, surmounted by a statue of the god. Sappho's house on an eminence, right. Two galleys, bearing the ensigns of Athens and Lesbos at anchor. Young Lesbians dancing, centre, to the music of Clittjs's Harp, played, without. Sappho enters, right, softly sweeping the strings of her lyre. The Music ceases. Young L'sbians retire, right. SAPPHO This is the hour when Paphian dreams are born, The beings of the brain take sense and shape ; The hour when tender thoughts come trooping home Into the mind like little nestling doves ; The solitary heart flings wide its door, And waits the coming of some' genial guest ; When into some great soul I'd merge my soul, And in a dream of Eros lose myself. How softly beats the downy pulse of Nature ! How sweet her sleep, how tranquil her repose ! It is as if o'ercome by bliss expectant, She'd swooned into the amorous arms of Night. Ah ! could this bosom know such holy rest As wrap her slumbers round, how blest were I ! But deep down in my heart an ^Etna burns, Whose fires, like thwarted serpents, lash their craters, And hiss and sting, and sting and hiss for ever. [She hieels at the altar of Venus. Celestial goddess, daughter of great Jove ! Fair Queen of Love, and mother of sweet Hymen, Whose beauty draws all heaven into thy train, And holds the conquering gods in hopeless bonds, Give ear to love- sick Sappho ! SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 29 Swift from thy myrtle-wreathed throne descend, And medicine a heart diseased, Dying of famine in the sight of plenty. For every month Jove hath provided food ; For every sonl some fount to slake its thirst ; For every flower some cup of honey-dew. The grass draws milk from Earth's maternal bosom ; The thirsty leaf drinks from the lips of Heaven ; The appetent worm feeds free at Nature's table — And hath the hungry heart no sweet resource r No green oasis in Love's lonely desert ? Enter "Venus, crowned with myrtle and roses. Beautiful queen, my sonl falls at thy feet, And all the portals of my heart are open ; Enter, blest giver of most blissful joys ! Allay the fever of its wild desires, And throne in it the idol of my dream. VENUS For maids who sweep no Paphian lyre I give all that their hearts desire ; But unto those endowed with song I grant no rites, nor do them wrong ; Their lives with music they should fill As was ordained by heavenly will. SAPPHO Oh ! pity, pity me ! strike not Hope dead Ere she bring forth quick Joy ! Break not my heart Upon the gift of song ; but grant to me One crumb, one pure, sweet crumb from thy rich table ! Drive not the suppliant minstrel from thy door 30 SAPPHO. [act i. To starve upon ambrosia of the lyre, Which is food for the soul, not for the heart ! Bethink thee of thy great love for Adonis ; How many times it magnified the sun, And all the beauties of thy beauteous realm. VENUS Sappho, thy case thou pleadest well ; But truth to thee I've come to tell, And snatch thee from thy ruthless fate ; For thy dream's idol 'tis too late. SAPPHO Oh ! pity, pity me ; make me not mad ! VENUS Whilome I heard thy Paphian prayer, And hastened from the realms of air Erotic counsels to impart, And ease the aching of thy heart. Thy virgin feet were straying then In paths beset by gods and men, Beady to make thee any vow — Those virgin charms are absent now. The heyday of thy youth is flown, Thy cheeks no more with roses sown ; With thy plain face and stature short, The God of Love will now but sport. Thou hast been wed — and been unwed ; His nuptial couch thy rich spouse fled All discontent, and at my shrine Sought fresher, sweeter charms than thine. SCENE II. J SAPPHO. 31 SAPPHO What say'st thou, cruel queen ? Am I proscribed Because my cheeks are blanched with early woe, And man's inconstancy and damned falsehood ? VENUS I only speak the things that be. Man deems himself created free To roam at will through beauty's bowers, And pluck the freshest, sweetest flowers. Love is not Jove's best gift to thee. Instead of beauty's potency He gave the boon of poesy ; Then court the Muse, and on thy lyre Expend thy heart's Erotic fire. SAPPHO Hath Jove implanted in this breast an ^Etna, And given no egress to its hell of fires ? VENUS Jove to his creatures doth no wrong. Thy bosom's fires pour into song ; Dare not heaven's greatest gift abuse By lightly dealing with the Muse. SAPPHO For poesy I flung the gauntlet down, My nature turned in unaccustomed channels, Pressed back the currents of maternal milk, Lavished my full-love-laden youth on song, And won the bays that wait upon the lyre ; But unappeasable my soul cries out 32 SAPPHO. [act i. Across the starless desert of my life — ' Love ! Love ! Love ! Love ! Lift to my lips thy cup Of dead inebriation ! ' VENUS Silence thy soul ! Lock up thy heart, Bar it against Erotic dart ; The die cast for Olympian wreath, To fling for love will win but death. SAPPHO Bid wild impetuous rivers backward turn, The rain refuse to fall, the grass to grow, The flowers to bloom, the womb of Nature quicken Beneath the vivifying touch of Sol, And they as well can do it as the poet Sever the ties that bind his soul to Eros : Love is the nerve and sinew of the Muse, The fire that drives her mettle to its height, And plumes her pinions for Olympian flight. VENUS Thou'rt mad, as poets always are. Go on ; and when night shrouds thy star, In vain thou'lt call on me in realms afar. [Exit. SAPPHO The inhemmed scorpion turns upon itself Its sting and dies : so may I — hence impious thought ! Steadfast I'll look injustice in the face, And hug the aspic in Promethian silence. Eros and Cupid, Venus, now adieu ! Apollo and the Muse henceforth I'll woo. [Crosses, and kneels at the altar of Apollo. SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 33 Mighty Apollo, god of the silver bow, And guardian of the Muse above, below, From Jove's cloud-circled summit now descend, And to a child of song assistance lend, Who hath been wrecked on life's tempestuous sea, And lost all hold on heaven and earth save thee. Here in this desert haven be my firm anchor ; Bind up my heart- wounds and appease the canker- Worm folded in this bosom. With all that's high and great my soul inspire : Teach me to sculpture thought ; attune the lyre To highest tension of Homeric fire ; To weave a song whose harmony sublime Shall splendour worlds yet in the womb of Time. Make me thy darling ; smile upon my prayer ; Clothe me with wings to cleave Olympian air, And clasp the laurel-crown awaiting there. Enter Apollo with his lyre, and his brow twined with the sacred laurel. APOLLO Sappho of Lesbos, I have heard thy prayer, And come to speak to thee the words of wisdom : To few the gods award the laurel-crown. The greatest kings and queens, profoundest sages The world has known, have never worn the laurel. Not all the titles potentates confer ; Not all the gold that gilds the fields of Ophir ; Not all the treasures of the earth could buy it. It is reserved for the elect of Jove, The highest gift on mortals he bestows For highest virtues, linked with highest works. Who win th' immortal wreath must banish pleasure ; D 34 SAPPHO. [act I. Turn from the pathways of seductive ease : Gird up their loins to battle with the Gorgons ; Ascend Parnassus over fiery thorns, Mid galling showers of Envy's barbed darts, And break their souls upon the Olympian lyre. If to these trials the Lesbian equal prove — Worship Diana and eschew Astarte — The deathless wreath shall be her great reward. SAPPHO Thrice beautiful Olympian god, inspire me ! Teach me the magic of thy mystic lyre ! APOLLO The magic of the lyre's unteachable As music of the spheres : It is the inborn fire of souls elect, And laureates of Olympus ; and struck out By the hard hand of Fate as spark from flint. SAPPHO I have known sorrow-gnawing, wasting woe That found no tongue in song. APOLLO Bless Jove for that : Sorrow's the ordained handmaid of the lyre — The Yulcan that strikes out ts latent fire. [Lightning , That is the poetry of heaven — some mighty soul, Smote by the jarring elements hath flashed Across the vision of the startled world. [Exit, scene ii.] SAPPHO. 35 SAPPHO Stay, stay ! baptize me with eternal fire. [She falls forward as he goes out. Aloeus, Erinna, Clitus, and Rhodope rush m, lift her from the ground, and lead her on board the Athenian galley. A crowd of slaves with boxes and packages enter to the Lesbian galley. Young Lesbians run in, and cheer them as they push off. THE CURTAIN. D 2 36 SAPPHO. [act ii. ACT II. SCENE I. Athens. Morning. A reception-hall in the palace of Pisistka- ttjs. A bust of Homer on a table, centre, at which the Tyrant, in state robes, and with the open Iliad in his hand, is seated, listening to Phaon's pipe. PISISTEATUS Thy piping, Phaon, might enchant the ear Of Pan, and win Arcadia's fairest nymph ; But rest thy lungs while I discourse with Homer. [Turns the leaves of the Iliad. Oh ! what a mighty mind had grand old Homer : He struck the key-note of the human heart, And raised men to the level of the gods. I'd rather be a poet than a king : The poet lives when kings are dead and rotten, And in their graves a thousand years forgotten : A king may wear a crown by stratagem, Usurp a throne, and guide the ship of state, And live his little day of gold and glitter ; The poet receives his crown from realms above ; His sole prerogative to reign from Jove. The poet's the historian of his time — Monarchs and heroes live but in his rhyme This portrait of Thersites breathes : list, Phaon. BCKNB I.] SAPPHO. 37 ' The ugliest man that came to Troy was he, One eye a- squint — one foot distort had he ; A narrow head — a scanty growth of hair, And mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspreading.' To be the author of such poetry Were worth a century of petty kingship. [Glances at Phaon. By Jove ! the fellow is asleep, and I've Been reading to the columns. Phaon ! Phaon ! phaon (as if aivaking) I'm here, my liege. P1SISTEATTJS Art dreaming of the Lesbian ? PHAON What youth in Athens doth not dream of Sappho ? PISISTRATUS Of Sappho all may dream, yet not go mad. PHAON I am not mad, but may be when 1 see her. PISISTRATUS The Lesbian's like all other women-poets ; Nor young, nor pretty — haughty, and conceited. PHAON If she were old as Endor, stooped as Atlas, Fancy would vest her with the charms of Venus. PISISTRATUS That verifies the adage — ■ Love is blind.' 38 SAPPHO, [act ii. PHAON It verifies the wondrous spell of song When flowing from the lips of woman's soul. PISISTRATUS Now, by the gods ! what ague-fit is on thee ? PHAON The hour draws nigh, my liege, when she will enter To meet the bards and royal Agrigentum. PISISTRATUS. Well, what of that ? PHAON Of love they'll all go mad. PISISTRATUS Physic's a sovereign cure for love- sickness : Goslings and boys begetting down are verdant. PHAON Twang not the bow of satire at my heart. \_Aside. A thousand darts already quiver in it. CHAMB. {entering) My liege, Phalaris. \_A flourish. Enter Phalaris and train. pisistRatus (risii Welcome, Agrigentum. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 39 PHALARIS It glads me much to see the king of Athens, And hear of his poetical surroundings : Who are disputants for the envied laurel ? PISISTRATUS The loftiest names of song. PHALARIS I'd hear their music. PISISTRATUS Solon, Alcaeus, Ibycus, Theognis, Stesichorus, Anacreon, Erinna, Minermus, Thespis, iEsop, Sappho. PHALARIS Sappho Of Lesbos here ? PISISTRATUS They all are here, my lord. THALARIS I'd swim old Styx to see the Sapphic Muse. PISISTRATUS Upon this side that river thou shalt see her ; The Lesbian and the bards will here anon. PHALARIS How looks the Lesbian ? Is she beautiful, And young enough for Agrigentum's queen ? 40 SAPPHO. [act ii. PISISTRATUS Not beautiful, but young enough, methinks. phaon (aside) My heart will burst — ray brain asunder split. Enter Poets. PISISTRATUS To Agrigentum let me name the poets — Solon, Anacreon, his kinsman, ^Esop, Thespis, Stesichorus, Theognis, Ibycus, And Minermus. PHALARIS I greet the bards of Greece. Enter Sappho, Alcjeus, and Erinna. PISISTRATUS Sappho, Alceeus, and the fair Erinna. phalaris (approaching Sappho) It glads me to behold che Queen of Song, To whom all honour, glory, doth belong. phaon (aside) I'd stab the lecherous savage to the heart ! SOLON I would not die until I know by heart The wondrous songs the Lesbian Muse hath sung. BCBNB I.] SAPPHO. 41 STESTCHOEUS I'd ask no prouder wreath than Sappho wears. ^:sop The Lesbian is the eagle of the skies, All other birdlings watch with longing eyes. phaon (aside) I'd like to knock his hump from off his shonlders. THEOGNrS Upon the brow of her who conquers all May glory's laurel-wreath to-morrow fall. THESPIS If Sappho tragedy had written she Had given to Thespis immortality. IBTCUS With earth and heaven to her I humbly bow. MINBEMUS Of mighty Jove I ask no higher fame Than or the list with hers to place my name. ANACREON Welcome to the Sapphic Muse Never let us bards refuse ; Honour to the Lesbian's lyre Let us pay, and drink its fire, And around her brow divine Myrtle with the laurel twine. 42 SAPPHO. [act ii. In the mighty race of fame For the laurel and acclaim, Sappho and Anacreon Side by side to-morrow run ; If the lanrel- crown be mine Myrtle ronnd her brow I'll twine. phaon {aside) all ye serpents of perdition sting him ! ANACREON When I hear the Sapphic lyre All my youthful blood is fire, And like lightning through my heart Flashes Cupid's barbed dart ; If the laurel-crown be mine Myrtle round her brow I'll twine. Many a time my lyre I've strung, Many a song to Sappho sung, Many an anthem poured to Jove, Many unto the god of love ; If the laurel- crown be mine Myrtle round her brow I'll twine. Welcome, Sappho, welcome here ; Every poet holds thee dear ; Every king reveres thy beauty ; Every slave will do thee duty ; And around thy brow divine Myrtle with the laurel twine. SAPPHO 1 thank these gallant monarchs and the poets For sweet bestowment of too much laudation. [Places her hand on the bust of Homer. scene i.] SAPPHO. 43 This is the poet worthy of all praise, The poet worthy of the poet's worship ; From out whose brain leaped gods, as from the brow Of Jove Minerva sprang ; out of whose soul Gushed seas of harmony : The poet who four hundred years agone To music set the woes of Ilium. And with the cries of Agamemnon's foes Startled the ears of centuries unborn. When, aided by Apollo and the Muse, I climb Olympus high as Homer clomb, And take my seat beside th' immortal bard, Then, then, and not till then, poets, spend Your breath in wafting Sappho to the stars ! [Glancing right, she sees Phaon bending forward on his knee, and stretching out his hands to- wards her. 'Tis he, 'tis he! 'Twas not a dream, Erinna ! [She swoons in Erinna' s arms. Phaon falls forward. All rush to her aid. SCENE II. Sappho's palace at Athens. A vine-latticed piazza, opening on a garden. A door, left, hading into a room with a window o piazza. Enter Sappho and Erinna by door, left. Pisistratus, Phalaris, Phaon, Aloeus, and other poets enter by garden, and are seen eaves -dropping among the vines, each unperceived by the other. ERINNA What envious shadow came across thy spirit, Like cloud athwart the sun at highest noon ? 44 SAPPHO. [act ii. SAPPHO It was the apparition of my dream Whose beauty, flashing through my soul's wide windows, Did set my heart on fire. EEINNA Oh ! weave its flames Int' song, red-pinioned as Olympian bolt. SAPPHO White-lipped and mute the Muse now stands before The conflagration that is raging in me ; But at the Bionysia list to-morrow : As lightnings leap from out heaven's aching breast Into the seething air, My bosom's gathered fires shall flash in song. But lip nor lyre can tell thee what love is, Or is in me. ' It is a bird that sings in every bough, Enchanting worlds with mystic minstrelsy ; A hand that sweeps the strings of every heart, Striking out harmony or horrid discord ; A snake that charms to crush ; an &sp that kills With painless sting ; a cankerworm that folds Itself up in the sweetest, fairest buds ; A flame that blows itself out at one puff ; A fire that burns the fiercer when inhemmed, And with heat-whited tooth bites down to Hades. 'Tis peace — 'tis war — 'tis life — annihilation — 'Tis heaven— 'tis hell ! Thou saw'st how it did take away my breath — And thou wilt see it waft me unto death. _____ SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 45 ERINNA The gods forbid the mastery of Cupid. But tell me how thou findst Pisistratus. SAPPHO Pisistratus was made to conquer kingdoms, Not hearts. ERINNA And how the young Anacreon ? SAPPHO He has a wine-nose, sloven, riotous mien : Anacreon should sing behind a screen, And ne'er before it be by sweetheart seen. ERINNA And iEsop, how ? SAPPHO His hump is merry-making. ERINNA How seems Phalaris and the other poets ? SAPPHO Insipid all as pap beside that youth, Who is the wedded souls of love and truth ; But call my soothsayer — I'd speak with him [Exit Erinna. pisistratus (aside) I've conquered kingdoms, and will conquer thee. PHALARIS (aside) Phalaris pap ! I'd roast her in my bull. 46 SAPPHO. [act ii. anacreon (aside) I'll owe her one, and sing before the screen. msov (aside) Coiled up within my hump there is a serpent Whose venomed sting shall prick her to the heart. Sappho (to SOOTH, entering) What tidings from the oracles dost bring me ? SOOTH. That thou hast found the phantom of thy dream. SAPPHO Is he a man on whom the heart may lean ? SOOTH. He is. SAPPHO When it is drunk, and o'erlays reason ? SOOTH. Ay, even then. (Aside.) Jove ! protect the Muse Against the jealousies of Venus ! SAPPHO Go. [Exit Sooth. phaon (advancing and kneeling) Lesbian muse ! Paphian queen of song ! Angel on eagle's pinions borne along ! Thou star above the stars ! thou sun abov . SCENE IT.] SAPPHO. 47 The sun ! Olympian fountain of Erdtic fire ! Thou wonder, and thou glory of the lyre ! Look not disdainfully upon a youth Who at thy feet hath come to lay the truth ! Untimely though it seem, and overbold In one so young — Oh ! let the tale be told ! I'm drunk on love — the music of thy name — Or mad — or both — which are, Muse, the same ! — ■ Knit not thy brow ! turn not thine eyes away ! But from my lips hear what my heart would say. My name is Phaon, and my years are few. Tending the flocks, a shepherd boy I grew Beside a sister and a fair betrothed Whom, since I heard the Sapphic lyre, I've loathed : Flown from as Indian flees the Upas-breath Whose honey-freighted dews to him are death. Few days agone I had a dream of thee — A dream so real, it seemed no dream to me. Thou wert sitting by the sea in thine own isle, Thy soft, brown cheek illumined with thy smile ; Thy tresses flowing backward from thy brow In sable showers upon a robe of snow, — Thy face uplifted towards th' enamoured skies, And all heaven beaming in thy soft dark eyes — The heaven of love — the heaven of poesy, And worshipping, I bent a lover's knee. SAPPHO stay ! stay ! unfold no more to me ; 'Tis the fine woven woof of Destiny. As Jove declares his laws in bolts that gleam, The will of Fate's made manifest in dream. [Exit into the room. Phaon goes to the window, and looks in 48 SAPPHO. ["act ir. PHAON O eyes ! that all tlie stars of heaven eclipse ; Bosom, whose whiteness shames Olympian snow ; Tresses, whose lustre pales the raven's wing ; Beauty, surpassing Aphrodite's — Hist ! One comes. [He crouches beneath the window. Pisistratus approaches, and seeing him, retires. Phalaris approaches. PHALARIS Phaon ! I'd like to roast him in my Bull. [Retires. an acre on {reeling to the window). Glorious Sappho ! queen of song, All my thoughts to thee belong ; Thou hast touched my heart with fire ; Pilled my breast with pure desire. [He attempts to scale the window. Aloeus, dart- ing from his hiding-place, seizes him. They go ont fighting. SCENE III.] SAPPHO. 49 SCENE III. Olympia. Morning. An open space in front of the Temple of Zeus. An estrade, centre. An altar to Bacchus, left, sur- mounted by a statue in the attitude of drinking. Umpires enter to a bench on estrade. Pisistrattts, Phaxabis, and Princes to seats right of Umpires. Phaox, in blue and white, to place near Pisistratus. Sappho and Erinna enter to seats right. The Poets to seats left of estrade. Chorus of Satyrs enter right, led by Stesichorus. CHOEUS Bacchus is the god of plenty, God of wit, and wine, and pleasure ; Unto him our souls we'll empty, Fill the goblet without measure. Enter Bacchanalians right, leading a goat decked with gay ribbons and violets, followed by Pan and a crovjd of piping Shepherds. Pull the goat along, nor falter ; Lead him to the thirsty shrine ; Sacrifice him at the altar, So appease the god of wine, Then let all be joy and motion, Pipe, and siDg, and shout, and laugh ; Dance and frolic ; drink an ocean ; All the founts of pleasure quaff. [The Phallic procession, led by Thespis, passes from right to left, and takes up rear of stage. A dance of Fauns, Muses, and Satyrs folloivs. E 50 SAPPHO. [act ii. AN umpire (rising) Now will we hear the poets speak their pieces. Anacreon commence. ANACREON President of Bacchic tribe, Mine to fill and joy prescribe. Drain the goblet, dance, and play — Mad discretion crowns the day : Blow your pipes and swell your lyres, Rapture calls, and wine inspires. UMPIRE Stesichorus, the Dorian, next. STESICHORUS Vain it is for us to weep That we all in death must sleep ; With man's life ends all the story Of his wisdom, wit, and glory. Then enjoy it while we may, Eat, and drink, and dance, and play ; Drain the founts of joy and pleasure, Fill the goblet without measure. UMPIRE Theognis of Magara. THEOGNIS Ah, me ! Alike o'er youth and age I sigh — Impending youth and age that hasten by — Swift as a thought the flowing moments roll ; Swift as a, racer speeds to reach the goal: SCENE III.] SAPPHO. 51 How rich, how Happy the contented guest Who leaves the banquet soon and sinks to rest. UMPIRE Ibycus of Italy. IBTCUS In my bosom Cupid's power Never slumbered yet an hour. [ Applause. UMPIRE Alcseus of Mitylene. alcleus {glancing at sapphg) To Bacchus fill the goblet high ; To love I drink, and beauty's eye : For what is there but love below To lift the heart above its woe ? It shuts out wrong, and war, and strife, And is the pole-star of man's life. To Bacchus fill the goblet high ; To love I drink, and beauty's eye. When tost upon the stormy sea, A wanderer from his home is he ; The thunder rolls, the tempest raves, And death stares at him from the waves ; The star of love gleams through the dark, And angels guide his death-girt bark ; — To Bacchus fill the goblet high ; To love I drink, and beauty's eye. If from my heaven love's star depart 'Twill leave no ray to light my heart : No sun, no moon, will shine for me On this side of eternity ; K 2 52 SAPPHO. [act ii. And like the blind I'll grope my way Until I reach Olympian day. To Bacchus fill the goblet high ; To love I drink, and beauty's eye. UMPIEE Minermus of Ionia. MINEEMUS What were life, and what its treasures, Golden Venus, wert thou flown ? Ne'er may I outlive the pleasures Given to man by thee alone ; Honied gifts, and sacred love, Joys all other joys above ! UMPIEE JEsop, the fabulist. ^:sop Yon glorious orb that gilds the day, Or placid moon with silver ray ; Earth, sea, whate'er we gaze upon Is thine, Nature ! thine alone ; But gifts which to ourselves we owe, What are they all but fear and woe ? Chance, pleasure — hardly worth possessing- Ten curses for a single blessing. UMPIEE Solon, the lawgiver. SOLON Short are the triumphs to injustice given. Jov6 sees the end of all from highest heaven ; SCENE III.] SAPPHO. 53 And though his silent anger long may lie Wrapt in the vast concealment of the sky, Like livid lightning, never doth it sleep, And though the sire escape, the son shall weep. UMPIRE The fair Erinna. ERINNA Is there a king in all the earth Who would not give his right of birth, His royal crown, and regal sway, To wear the poet's deathless bay ? The king entombed in memory lies — The laurelled poet never dies. [The Icings applaud. UMPIRE Sappho of Lesbos, Greece with breathless ear Awaits the music of thy voice to hear. SAPPHO {glancing at PHAON) In Athens lives a noble youth Whose eyes speak tomes of love and truth, Whose presence, like the god of light, Makes all things beautiful and bright. When first I met his rapturous glance I felt a thrill my heart entrance, A fire spring up in every vein, An ^Etna burning in my brain. 'Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And raised such tumults in my breast, That while I gazed, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost ; 54 SAPPHO. [act ii. My bosom glowed — the subtle flame Like lightning ran throngh all my frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; My ears with hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chilled, My blood with gentle horrors thrilled, My feeble pulse forgot to play — I fainted, sunk, and died away. [Applause, and cries for another poem. SAPPHO Venus, come ! forsake the sky For this our banquet's gaiety ; Come while the golden beakers gleam, The nectar mix in purple stream : Fill to these gentle friends of mine The goblet with Erotic wine. Come, O goddess ! with thy smile All our earthly cares beguile ; Waken thy fires in every heart Not yet pierced by Cupid's dart ; Fill to these gentle friends of mine The goblet with Erotic wine. Twine the myrtle with the bay Hound my brow this happy day ; Kindle in one breast a fire Equal to my heart's desire : Fill to these gentle friends of mine The goblet with Erotic wine. [Phaon wrestles with a Spartan. While he stands with his foot on the oreast of his prostrate foe, Sappho fa Us on her knees and proffers him. her nosegay. As he takes it he kisses her hand. SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 55 SCENE IV. Sappho's palace at Athens. The piazza as in Act II. Scene II. Enter Sappho and Erixna by door, left. Pisistratus, Phalaris, Phaon, and the Poets appear among the vines. SAPPHO Oh ! I am suffering speechless agony ; Pangs overreaching iEsculapian art. Lay thy hand on my brow. ERINNA 'Tis hot as ^Etna's. SAPPHO The kiss he lavished on my hand did burn Into my blood like molten lava. ERINNA Sappho, Thou art too great for Cupid's mastery. SAPPHO Cupid is master of us all — great, small — And art, though godlike's but his crouching slave. ERINNA Thou'lt not debase the mission of the Muse ? . SAPPHO My love is higher than the Muse's flight, And deeper than the fathom-line of reason. 56 SAPPHO. [act ii ERINNA Alceeus loves tliee with a love all-seeing : Pisistratus, Phalaris, poets, umpires Are dying for thee. SAPPHO Seas of such love would leave my heart athirst. Kings have no hearts, and therefore cannot love. Poets have hearts, but worst of lovers prove. Kings mate themselves upon Ambition's terms, Poets on Vanity's or Passion's whims, I seek a' heart whose instincts are too high To bend to either. Love that brooks no curb, But burns its way untramelled as the comet. [Pisistratus approaches, and kneels. PISISTRATUS Behold the royal captive at thy feet ! Who offers thee his kingdom and his crown. SAPPHO I seek a crown that kings cannot confer. PISISTRATUS Dost dare, proud Muse, refuse the crown of Athens ! SAPPHO Bestow it on Caesura, 'tis her right. PISISTRATUS Right ! Women have no rights save courtesy's. [Aside. I'll crown that haughty brow, or break her heart. [Exit SCENE IT. J SAPPHO. 57 phalaeis {advancing and crowning her) Plialaris crowns thee queen of Agrigentum. sappho (returning his croivii) Sappho aspires to wear no kingly crown. phalaeis (aside) She plays with kings and kingdoms as with baubles, Oh ! how I'd like to roast her in my bull I [Exit, [The Poets approach, and essay to hieel. She waves them to depart. Akacreon kneels. AXACREON By the spells of beauty bound, Helpless at thy feet I lie ; Venus ! bid my suit be crowned, And with rapture let me die. SAPPHO Bacchanal, rise, depart, and come no more ! [Exit Anacreon. aloeus (aside) She doth refuse them all : her heart is mine, And at her feet I'll lay it with my life. [As he approaches, Phaon advances and kneels. PHAON matchless Muse ! O love ! O fatal charmer ! Refuse me not the nuptial boon I ask, And all demented fling me to the fiends ! 58 SAPPHO. [act ii. SAPPHO It were more meet to mate thyself with one Whose path is still entwined with vernal flowers. PHAON Spring- flowers are fresher, but less honey-lipped Than blossoms glorifying early summer. SAPPHO Bereavement and misfortune have been mine — The painful pangs ingratitude inflicts Upon the young and unsuspecting heart. PHAON If all the woes of Niobe were thine, The serpents of Medusa twined thy brow — I'd swim the fatal Styx to call thee mine. SAPPHO Phaon, in youth's sweet time I had a dream. I lay upon a bed of vernal flowers : The birds were singing round me like the angels, The Zephyrs fanning me with loving wings, And o'er me bent a youth with starry eyes, And beauty more transcendent than Apollo's. I woke : the youth had flown, but in my heart His image left ; I wore it — gazed on it Till it eclipsed all stars, all moons, all suns, And of my life became its solar system. Phaon, that youth was thou — that image thine. If I could pour my heart's pent fires in song, As heaven discharges her full-aching bosom Into the air, 'twould flame the universe ; SCENE IT.] SAPPHO. 59 But th' only fire-pans of the sonl are words, Weak words, that hold not half its gathered light- nings. I love thee with a love all- comprehending As Jove's omniscience — all-searching, seeing — I love thee to the height and depth of being. PHAON Upon the pinnacle of bliss I stand. Oh ! could I fling away my lowly life As I can fling away a common garment ! SAPPHO Beauty's a gift divine. Who doth inspire A godlike love is kindred to the gods. PHAON I feel the greatness of a god within me. To be th' accepted of the Lesbian Muse, To stand beside her on the heights of Fame In presence of discarded kings and bards, Is glory that Olympian gods might envy. SAPPHO Phaon, before me here there is a line — A narrow boundary twixt bliss and woe. On this side I am all myself have made me ; On that I may be all that thou may'st make me ; On this side's love, fame, honour, adoration ; On that — dost wonder that I pause upon Tins side, and weigh the chances of the step ? 60 SAPPHO. [act ii. phaon (clasping her to his bosom) Cross it, beloved ! fear not S Upon this side Eternal love and adoration wait thee, SAPPHO To-morrow to Olympia I repair. If on my brow the wreath of fame descend, Who there a myrtle crown me first present, To him shall be my heart and hand for ever. PHAON Then art thon mine, by all th' Olympian gods ! The myrtle, Hymen's holiest emblem there Shall seal, and sanctify my love, unfathomed, Unfathomable as eternity ! To-morrow, dost thon say, immortal Mnse ? SAPPHO I dare not look to-morrow in the face, So big to-morrow is with destiny. PHAON To-morrow holds eternity of bliss — To-morrow ? SAPPHO At Olympia to-morrow. [Exeunt Phaon by garden. Sappho by door aloeus (staggering forward) Where am I ? Whence this sable pall, Whose inky folds around me fall, Shutting the day- god from my sight ? Just now the world was full of light, And now to me 'tis starless night. SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 61 What have I done, ye gods ! Oh, say ! That ye should shut from me the day, And from my life its beacon bright ? Just now the world was full of light, And now to me 'tis starless night. Mine arms I put forth like the blind, And only empty darkness find — Sun, moon, and stars have taken their flight — Just now the world was full of light, And now to me 'tis starless night. Must I thus grope along the stream Of life without a beacon-beam To guide my lonely steps aright ? Just now the world was full of light, And now to me 'tis starless night. Pitying, Jove ! take me from earth ; Allay this bosom's gnawing dearth ; Translate to heaven my beacon bright : Just now the world was full of light, And now to me 'tis starless night. [Falls on his knees, and hides his face in his hands. Sappho re-enters, and lays her hands softly on his broiv. He springs up with a shudder. Basilisk, off! Thy touch, though soft as love's, Is venomous as the aspic's sting ! From thee The mantle of divinity hath fallen. And left thee standing in polution's garb, A thing to make the blood of virtue quake. SAPPHO Alcasus ! for the love of sacred things Let not thy tongue unsheathe heart-slaying daggers. 62 SAPPHO. [act ii. ALC^US Heart ! Thine is food for carrion birds ; I saw an unfledged buzzard pecking on it ! There is no Sappho now ; Her funeral knell is ringing in my heart. SAPPHO Alcseus, my dead father's friend and mine, Forgive, and be forgiven. I have lost The helm of reason. Passion's turbulent sea Tosses my helpless life-bark towards Charybdis : Help me to steer it wide of Scylla's hounds, And moor it in the haven of thy love ! In Phaen's glance there is a sorcerer's spell, That holds and draws me like a serpent's charm ; An iEtna in his touch whose red-lipped lavas Sow in my blood delicious agonies Of death. ALCiEUS I'll kill him ! SAPPHO No, that would kill me, His life's my life — his death sure death to me. ALO^US O jealous, damned Yenus, that for spite Dost crucify the greatest of the Muses ! Come to the garden, love, and let sweet zephyr Fan thy Lot brow. Come, lean on me as erst ; The reed shall break beneath thee never more. [Exeunt by garden. SCEN'E v.] SAPPHO. 63 SCENE V. Olympia. Interior of the Temple of Zeus. A statue of Zeus on the altar. An estrade, centre. A great crowd of people enter, and fill up the background. Royal trains enter, and take up their places. Pisistratus, Pealaris, Princes, and Umpires enter to seats on estrade. The poets to places, left. Sappho, attired in white skirt and pxirple mantle, trimmed with gold, and her arms and ankles twined with laurel, enters with Eren~na, right. umpire (rising) With meet respect and honour for these poets, Who bravely have contended for the prize, To Lesbian Sappho we award the laurel. Sappho, approach. [She kneels on first step of estrade. In presence of the gods, Poets and kings, and Greece assembled here, We crown thee Queen of Song. Arise, great Muse ! SAPPHO (rising) To these wise umpires and assembled Greece Be all my thanks. PEOPLE Speak on, thy voice is music Sweeter than ever rapt Olympian ears. SAPPHO I am a poet, not an orator. PEOPLE The poet's both. His words are fire ; his songs The beacons burning on the heights of time. 64 SAPPHO. [act ii. SAPPHO Came Sappho hither on the wings of ease ? Cheered by the smiles of older, stronger climbers ? Were there who, pitying, gave a hand to help Her up the treacherous steeps ? Were there who paused To list her cries, and to her aid descend When footholds failed, and reeds beneath her broke ? Look down the thorny path up which she clomb All crimson with the blood of her scarred feet, And learn at what a price she wears the laurel. PEOPLE Thy future way with diamonds shall be paved. SAPPHO Few are the gems that strew the poet's path ; Few are the cups of bliss for him to quaff ; Children of the lyre, however great their worth, Or broad be their possessions on the earth, Are martyrs to their mission, heirs of wrong, Sad immolations on the shrine of song. Their natal orbits lie as far above The paths of common souls as realms of Jove ; They walk with men but are not of mankind ; They hold discourse with worlds to which they're blind, And with rapt visions gaze beyond the skies, While on the things of earth men keep their eyes. [Phaon dashes through the parting croicd, and thrusts a myrtle crown in Sappho's hand just as Aloeus and the other poets approach with theirs. Alc^us springs at him with vengeance SCENE V.] SAPPHO. 65 in his eye; then starts hack, flings away his myrtle crown, and rushes out, crying. ISTo, no ! I will not be a murderer ! [Phaon leads her out amid the applause of the multitude. THE CURTAIN. 66 SAPPHO. [act m. ACT III. SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Sappho's palace. Slaves docorating it with laurel. Clittts wreathing a little throne with myrtle and roses. Ehodope weaving a garland at a table near him. clitus (aside) Now all is ready for the Queen of Song, And her young husband, Phaon. Poor Alcseus ! Illusions football, Cupid's shuttlecock ! Kicked here, knocked there, and twice drove to the wall. Since her tenth year he has adored the Muse, And now she's six-and- thirty, he quite fifty. When Sappho wed the merchant prince of Andros The bard went mad as Agamemnon's son, And rested not until he bred a rupture In Hymen's realm. He'll kick at heaven again. I'll do my best to match him with Erinna : Though she have less than half his years, her love Will prove an anchor to his drifting life-bark, And keep his soul from leaping overboard ; Rhodope, what art doing there so long ? i SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 67 KHODOPE Weaving a garland for my little Sappliie. CLITUS Go, get the dancers ready. Tell Cleone To look her prettiest : she's to play the Hebe, And lead the dancers in the Muses' revel. Look to her garb. Let there be nothing in it That can impede the poetry of motion : Let fleecy skirts just dally with her knees, And silken gaiters case her twinkling feet : S^X^v^cL^kM-J Down to her slender waist, as free as air, Let fall the clusters of her raven hair, And in the sable threads weave amber roses ; But not another ornament or gem ; Youth, unadorned, is beauty's diadem. [Exit Rhodope. A SLAVE Where wilt thou seat the kings and poets ? CLITUS Nowhere : We'll have no kings and poets here to-night, Except Alcaeus and Erinna who, In fee, are chattels of the Sapphic Muse. This festival is ours. It is our right To fete our mistress on her nuptial night. Hark ye ! swift chariot- wheels straight from Olympia. [Looks on/. Ho ! they come ! summon the dancers. Quirk ! they come! [Looks out again. How beautifully looks the Queen of Song ! With what majestic grace she wears the laurel. Snatched from the clutch of Greece's envious bards. But for that dough-faced shepherd at her side, 68 SAPPHO. [act hi. She'd be Astarte and Diana twined By the immortal laurel. But down from The summit of Olympus she has stooped To lift an idiot to the poet's height. There, ashen-lipped as death, Alcseus comes, Leading Erinna. Poor old jilted bard, I pity him ! Enter a crowd of slaves with flowers and branches of laurel, preceded by Cleon6, whom he turns to regard. Oh ! she is lovely as wine-pouring Hebe ! Pray Jove she may not captivate the bridegroom, And set her tiny foot on Sappho's heart ! She's dark, he's light, and opposites attract. \LooTcs out again. Ho ! here they come ! down on your knees and make A floral carpet for the Muse's feet ! [Slaves kneel and lay their flowers on the ground. At first sight of Phaon, Cleone faints in the arms of a slave. Clitus and other slaves cheer and cry, ' Welcome Muse ! welcome adored mis- tress ! ' Sappho and Phaon 'pass to the throne, and Algmxjs leads Erinna to seats fomvard. Cleone fetches wine to Sappho and Phaon, Aloeus and Erinna. SAPPHO (rising) Kind friends, I thank you for this generous greeting And lavish overflowing of your hearts. These decorations, interwove with smiles Brighter than Sol's, bespeak your sweet contentment With this young master I've imposed upon you ; Love only can repay the debt of love. Count on my heart for twice what ye've invested. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 69 SLAVES We only seek the Muse's happiness ! SAPPHO After long weary years of toiling, climbing Up thorny steeps mid envy's barbed arrows, To-day I reached the summit of Olympus, And on my brow received the laurel-crown. SLAVES Thy brow is worthy of th' immortal laurel ! Sappho (holding up the myrtle-crown) Help me to twine with it this myrtle-wreath In deathless union. SLAVES Oh ! we will ! we will ! [They tuine the myrtle-wreath with her laurel crown SAPPHO Cleone, dearest, where's thy greeting kiss ? 'Tis only needed to complete my bliss. [Cleone, glancing timidly at Phaon, comes for- ward and kisses her. Thou art as fresh as spring, as summer sweet, Now let us list the music of thy feet. \_As Cleone" floats through the dance, Phaon fol- lows her with loving eyes, and flings her roses from Sappho's bouquet, which the Muse plea- santly resents. Pisistratus, Phalaris, and the Poets enter disguised, and mingle among the dancers. All exeunt hut Aloe us and Erinna. 70 SAPPHO. [act in. ALC^US Erinna, did'st thou mark that brainless shepherd Follow Cleone with enamoured eyes, And fling her roses mid the dizzy dance ? Already he is smit, and Sappho jealous. Ill-fated Muse ! deluded Queen of Song ! My fallen angel ! my lost star ! my death ! \_Qazes on a fixed point. Oh ! horrid, horrid, damned thing, that dost Appal my soul and prompt it to take flight From this ungenial and tempestuous sphere ! Oh ! oh ! oh ! it is hideous and brain-splitting, Erinna ! ERINNA What, Alca3us ? ALCiEUS Naked life ! This world divested of illusion's mantle Affrights me, and I will have done with it ! ERINNA {grasping Ms dagger) Alcseus ! madman ! stay thine impious hand : Self-murder is the action of a coward ; Calm durance of life's ills true bravery ; Gird up thy soul to battle with the Fates, Conquer by moral arms, not murderous steel. Come forth, and let the stars restore thy senses ; I do compassionate thy wondrous woe, And with my blood would bathe thy burning wounds, If blood could heal the rents of Cupid's darts. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 71 ALOE US Angelic girl ! would there were more like thee. Take me, my life is thine, since thou did'st save it. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The garden of Sappho's palace. A parterre of flowers and shrubs, centre. Enter Gleone, right, plucks some flowers, and sings in a low voice ; Phaon follows, and pauses a little behind her. Alcjeus enters and stands behind a myrtle, watching them. CLEONE (arranging a bouquet) In distant Lesbian vales My bosom knew no sigh ; There Sappho told me tales, And sang me lullaby ; But here no loving word, No smiles illume my breast, And like an unfledged bird Hurled from its happy nest, In the folds of some dear bosom Nestling, I'd hush my wees, As bee within the blossom Folds its wings in soft repose. PHAON (aside) And in this bosom thou shalt fold thy wings, Sweet, homeless dove. 72 SAPPHO. [act hi. CLE one {looking up) Methought I heard a voice ! 'Twas only some enamoured bird love-prating. [ Sings. Were I a bird his cooing I'd list with heart elate, Leave him not long a- wooing, But be at once his mate : With him soar on the ether Into the eye of day. Or, nestling 'mong the heather, Bill and coo with him for aye. phaon (aside) How beautiful is love when first awaking Within a young maid's breast ? How potent and How wonderful its spell upon man's heart ? CLEONE (singing) In Lesbos Sappho loved me, My bosom filled with blisses, A gentle mother proved me, Here Phaon only kisses. From morn to even she Enchains him with caresses, Or, smiling lovingly, Plays with his golden tresses. I gaze ; they see not me, Hear not my heart's wild throbbing, And swift as dart I flee, Lest they should hear me sobbing. SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 73 Why should I weep and pine, The gods onr hearts dissever ! Alas ! he should be mine ! Our hearts be one for ever ! PHAON (darting forward?) And by the gods, they shall be one for ever ! CLEO^ I am her slave ! She'll kill me ! oh, she'll kill me ! PHAON Fear not, sweet trembling dove ; she shall not touch thee. CLEON^ Thou'rt Sappho's husband, 1 her little slave. phaon (opening his arms) Come to this bosom, and thou shalt be free. [She flies into his arms and hides her face in his bosom. A serpent lifts its head above the floiuers, regards them, and disappears. Sappho, radiant with smiles, enters, left, plucks some flowers, and kisses them. SAPPHO Ye are the smiles that angels leave behind them When they have ended their nocturnal vigils. Sweet benedictions to the loved bequeathed Jl - By unseen guardians rfrom her( earthly weal. 61 v}Vauxc. G 2 84 SAPPHO. [act hi. Phaon Cleone folded to his bosom Fondly, as if she were the world to him And Sappho were forgotten. death ! death ! madness ! shut the horrid pictnre oat ! \_A pause. Phaon, whom I have lifted to the poet's level. No ! no ! it is not trne ! my reason's blurred. [J. pause. My little black-eyed slave, Cleone, Whom on the market-place one day I bought For pity, bore her in mine own arms home, Fed, nursed her in my bosom as my child ; That she could slay me with those charms that I Had snatched from base-souled trafficker in beauty — Ha, gods ! she is my slave. Her life is mine ! \_F eels for dagger. 'Tis there ! T found it not when at her couch ; How sweetly flowed the balmy breath between The rosy lips just parted on the pearls. That dimpled bosom, veiled with raven tresses The picture slew my murderous intent ! Tell me, ye gods ! What is this thing called love ? This something holding in it heaven and hell ? This something reason cannot put aside ? But which devours like dread Eumenides ? eeinna {struggling with alcjius) Oh ! I must speak to her, and with my blood, If needs be, staunch her wounds. A.LCMUS Restrain thy love. The knowledga of our presence may prove fatal. She has a dagger, and may turn it on Herself. These two hoars through the woods I've followed SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 85 Close on her steps to save her from self-mnrder. Now flew she like the wind, a-crying ' Off! Wild, laughing fiends ! pull me not by the hair ! ' Then on her face wept till the stones dissolved. ERINNA Thou shalt not hold me longer from the Muse ! [Buns to Sappho. Sappho, sweet friend, my best beloved on earth, Arise ! SAPPHO What brought thee here ! Grief has no friends. ERINNA I came to take on me thy wondrous woe. SAPPHO Weak, silly girl ! wert thou as strong as Atlas 'T would crush thee. Go ! go ! go ! thy presence prompts Dark thoughts. ERINNA Sappho ! what hath changed thee so ? SAPPHO Perfidy, wrong, the tortures of the damned ; Away ! I want no soft thing near me now, But something equal to my agony That could cope with a million of Hercules. ERINNA Apollo's darling, where's that mighty love That fired Olympian gods ? 86 SAPPHO. [act hi. SAPPHO Crushed, buried under The ruins of my shattered idols. Go ! I must tear something as this heart is torn ; Break something as this heart is broken. Go ! go ! [Sinks doivn with her face concealed in her hands. Alozeus bears Erinna out, swooning. ehodope (knocking) O baby, baby ! let Rhodope enter ; Thy faithful Clitus would speak with thee, too. SAPPHO The sound of human voices startles me, And gives my soul the ague. RHODOPE {entering) sweet baby ! Apollo's pet CLITUS SAPPHO Cleone, where is she ? CLITUS The child is in her room. SAPPHO What doth she there ? CLITUS I cannot tell thee : strange her conduct is. Now sits she lost in thought, then sings, then weeps, Then sings again in low, sad love-tuned voice SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 87 Just like a dovelet pining for a mate ; This morn, with downy step, she sought the brook, I followed after, watched her there. SAPPHO CL1TUS "With whom ? With him ? SAPPHO Go on ! CLITUS Upon the bank she doffed Her pretty clothes, then glancing timidly This way and that, to see if ought beheld Her beauty, tripped into the stream, and stood Sprinkling with little hands her b adding bosom, The fairest of SAPPHO Not praise, but knowledge give me ! CLITUS The bath and labour of the toilet ended, She hastened homeward, glided to her room, The portal closed behind her, locked it, and Began to sing SAPPHO To sing ! go, bring her here ! Rhodope, go, and bid my soothsayer come ! [Exeunt Clitus and Rhodopk. How will the traitoress meet my searching eye ? 88 SAPPHO. Tact hi. That from her heart shall tear its damned secret, Though all hell's triple bolts its portals bar ! [To Soothsayeb, entering. What balm canst pour into my wounds ? SOOTH. None, Muse. SAPPHO None ! none ! are heaven's doors closed against me, too ? SOOTH. 'Tis sad. SAPPHO Sad! what? SOOTH. That Phaon loves Cleone. SAPPHO Loves her ! my slave, Cleone ? SOOTH. More than life. SAPPHO Fool ! get thee gone, ere I make powder of thee ! [Exit Sooth, and enter Cleone\ She's beautiful, she's beautiful as spring. — Oh ! give me back, ye gods, my primal youth ! From memory tear the register of grief, And only leave the record of that age When the young heart clothes the world in its own beauty ! SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 89 cleone" (timidly} Sappho, dear Sappho, didst thou send for me ? sappho {aside) How carefully attired to meet my Phaon ! CLEONE (approaching) Sappho, my mistress, I await thy bidding. SAPPHO Wherefore so timid and so coyish now ? Thou wert not so of late : why dost thou tremble ? Come nearer, child, and let us talk together. What festival demands this dress to-day ? cleone" Festival ! SAPPHO Why so carefully attired ? CLEONE* Myself to please the Lesbian I attired. sappho (aside) She's quick at lying, false as falsest hell ! Cleone, come to me, come to these loving arms ! Be not afraid, my child, I am thy friend, The truest, best that thou wilt ever find, Hold not aloof! I'd harm myself ere thee ; Open these veins to serve thee ; thrust this bosom, Naked, between thee and all venomed darts. [Sobs. Cleone, hast thou ever thought of marriage ? That holy love that binds two hearts in one By ties not made for mortal hands to break ? And hast thou ever pictured to thyself 90 SAPPHO. [act hi. The pain of hearts thus bound, then torn asunder ? The wasting pangs, the burning agonies Of wounds that never heal, yet do not kill ? [Sobs. Cleone, dost remember thou the day, Now near eleven years, thou first saw'st Sappho ? Along the crowded slave- market she past, And 'mong a hundred other little orphans, Waiting for purchasers, beheld thee standing, And paid the price. Dost thou remember it ? When fever fixed its fetid fangs on thee, Whose was the breast that through the weary night, All self-forgetting, pillowed thy young head ? cleone (rushing into her arms) 'Twas thine, dear Muse ! SAPPHO There, there, ah ! well I knew Thou wouldst not of thyself betray thy Sappho ! cleone (drawing lack) O Sappho ! what? SAPPHO Thou know'st too well, Cleone, Why dost thou struggle in my loving clasp ? Look in my face ! Why art thine eyes averted ? Not timid thus wert thou when Phaon kissed thee. Ah ! ha ! now thou art red ! Thy flaming cheeks, Thy tied-up tongue, averted downcast eyes Are of thy damned guilt the witnesses ! Hast thou no words ? CLEONE I know not what thou mean'st ? SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 91 SAPPHO Know'st not and weep'st ? Hold up thy head if innocent, Take off this gay attire, these flowers that Do scarcely hide the serpent coiled beneath them ! Give me that wreath in memory of thy love. Why dost thou spare the rose upon thy bosom ? In vain thou strivest ; give me the rose. cleone (crossing her hands on it) ISTo, never! My life, rather my life ! sappho (drawing a dagger) Thy life is mine. Give me the rose or die. CLEONE (falling on her hiees) gods ! gods ! PHAON (entering) Who calls upon the gods ? A dagger drawn ! SAPPHO The rose upon her breast the slave refused me. PHAON And she did well. Thou hast no right to take From her the rose I gave her in remembrance Of love that youth and innocence inspired, And which outweigh a thousand times the laurel When it entwines the faded brow of Circe. 92 SAPPHO. [act tii. SAPPHO (letting the dagger fall) Phaon ! PHAON I'll listen not ! Thy tears are false. Turn not thy pitying eyes on her, Cleone ; False as her hand, her eyes will kill. CLEONE She weeps. PHAON Away ! she weaves new charms wherewith to slay. [Exit CleonI Sappho (falling at Ms feet) Phaon ! Phaon ! Why this cruelty ? What have I done to thee ? phaon The dagger drawn. SAPPHO 1 drew it not before I saw — PHAON Saw what ? SAPPHO Thee place the roses in Cleone's bosom. PHAON Sappho, thou liest. SAPPHO By the gods ! I saw SCEN'E IV.] SAPPHO. Thee lavish flowers and kisses on my slave. 'Twas in the cabinet of the Tyrant. PHAON Liar ! SAPPHO {drawing her dagger} By all the gods that make Olympus sacred, Thon shalt not say that word again and live. Plebeian ! have a care, lest down to Tartarus I dash thy perjured soul. PHAON Cleone, bo ! [Re-enter Cleone. sappho {throwing mcay the dagger) Phaon ! Pbaon ! canst forget so soon Thy holy vows before Olympian Jove ? Dost thou not fear Apollo's angry darts ? The dread Eumenides thou didst invoke ? phaon 1 nothing fear except thy murderous dagger. SAPPHO I was mad, Phaon. PHAON Mad ! and art mad still ! BAPPHO Not mad, but dying of the heart-ache. 94 SAPPHO. [act hi. cleone" (kneeling) Sapplio ! phaon (pulling her away) Touch not the aspic ! It will sting to death ! Come hence, dear child, the dagger made thee free, The presence of the dragon let us flee ! [They run out. Sappho stretching forth her hands towards them, falls forward. SCENE V. The garden as in Act III. Scene II. Enter Sappho slowly, with her eyes bent on the ground. Alc^eus follows, and pauses in the shadows, right. SAPPHO How still is all around, how mute the air, And peaceful the repose of weary Nature. Ah ! could I know such rest, sleep like these birds, In sweet embrace of unembittered Hymen ! Alas ! such sleep will never more be mine ! The blissful slumbers of the nuptial pillow, The golden-pinioned dreams that hover round The marriage couch with love have flown for ever. Whilome, I closed the portal of my heart, Upon its fires piled a&hes of dead dreams, So high they could not stir beneath the weight ; Then with this smouldering iEtna in my bosom, I struggled up the rugged steep of fame, And from the summit plucked the deathless laurel : SCENE v.] SAPPHO. 95 How proud was I upon that festive day ! How calm! how self-possessed! how great ! My soul had conquered, the world lay at my feet, And to the gods I felt myself akin. alcjeus (aside) Had I possessed a thousand lives that day, I'd given them all to save thee from thy fate. SAPPHO Kings, kingdoms, diadems I did refuse For him — a thought ! it lightens through my soul ! To Lesbos I will send Cleone back. There in my palace, locked, she will forget, And be forgotten. What ! if he follows her. Then banish reason, gods ! and make me dumb Alike to joy and sorrow ! CLITUS (entering softly) ye gods ! Help me to break to her the heavy news ? Apollo's darling. [To Sappho. safpho Clitus, art thou here ? 1 was about to call thee, and unfold A thought just born of my great agony. Swift man my galley, take Cleone home, And iu my palace lock her from the world. CLITUS Sappho, great Sappho — 96 SAPPHO. [act hi. SAPPHO What ! dost thou refuse ? CLITUS My life I'd give to serve thee. SAPPHO What is 't then ? CLITUS Alas ! dear Muse, they've flown. SAPPHO Flown ! Whither gone ? CLITUS To Sicily. SAPPHO To Sicily ! When ? How ? CLITUS In the Royal Appins, speeded by the Tyrant. SAPPHO Pisistratus ! Art sure of it ? CLITUS Ay, Muse. SAPPHO O hell ! are all thy fiends unchained at once ? Away ! arouse my slaves ! take each a brand, And stealthy as the devil creeps to mischief, SCENE v.] SAPPHO. 97 Set fire to Athens, burn her to the ground ! If by her Tyrant's hand this heart must die, It shall find sepulchre in her proud ashes. Away ! no, stop ! first bid my soothsayer hither ; Then tell the Tyrant I would speak with him. Now go ! not hobbling, but as lightning speeds ! [Exit, violently pushed. How have I fallen ! from what mighty height ! [To Soothsayer, entering. What tidings from the Oracles dost bring me ? Why standst thou pale and trembling, like a coward ? Speak out, ere my soul's lightning strike thee dead ! SOOTH. Thy Phaon with Cleone 's gone for ever. SAPPHO For ever ! Gone for ever ! Say thou liest ; That Phaon still is here, and loves but Sappho. SOOTH. To Sicily they've gone to live and love. SAPPHO Gods ! what is left for Sappho ? SOOTH. Leucate. SAPPHO Leucate ! Get thee gone, ere I go mad ! [Exit Sooth. Jealousy, murder, robbery, and lust, The horrid brood of hydra-headed sin That from the deep abyss of flaming hell H 98 SAPPHO. [act hi. Infect this world with poison-breathing breath, Are crimes that blanch the cheek and freeze the blood ; But there another is, whose deadly hues In contact brought with them, turns them to snow : It is adultery : alone it does "What all the others do in combination : It steals — it lies — deceives — it swears false oaths, Betrays, stabs, slays whole hecatombs of hearts. pisisteatus (entering) Art thou declaiming for the Dionysia ? SAPPHO Didst ship my slave by right of usurpation, As thou dost wear the diadem of Athens ? PISISTEATUS Not I, but Phaon. SAPPHO Phaon ! She's my slave. She's Phaon's now. PISISTEATUS SAPPHO And Phaon's mine, by Heaven He's mine ! PISISTEATUS He is Cleone's. SAPPHO (with draiun dagger) Tyrant ! mock Me not, lest thou dost learn that I can kill A king. SCENE v.] SAPPHO. 99 pisistratus (aside) By Jove ! she hath Achilles' fire ; I like it. 'Twill be useful to the State. [To Sappho. Forgive my raillery ; I am thy friend, And would not pain thy great heart for my kingdom. sappho (falling at his feet) My friend, dost say my friend ? And thou wilt bring My Phaon back ? My heart of heart. My life ! do ! do ! and I will be thy slave. pisistkatus (lifting her to his bosom) Thou shalt not be my slave, but honoured queen, The brightest jewel in my diadem. Let Phaon go to Sicily, and dwell There with Cleone, whom he loves as but The young can love the young and beautiful, Forget the peasant and be twice a queen. sappho (recoiling) If thou didst proffer me a diadem Sown with as many gems as heaven with stars, And every brilliant in it were a sun Eclipsing a million times the god of day, 1 would not doff the laurel-crown to wear it — Enthrone Caesura ! seek no other queen. PISISTRATUS I'd rear no kings from that accursed stock, Her father, standing 'twixt me and the throne, Proffered to step aside if I would wed his Daughter. H 2 ] 00 SAPPHO. [act hi. SAPPHO That man's a coward who would make A woman's heart a stepping-stone to power. PISISTRATUS Vile courtesan of Lesbos, hence from Athens ! sappho (rushing at him with drawn dagger) Coward ! take back that hell-born word ! pisistratus (dashing her off) Away ! Impious Muse ! alc^ius (rushing forward) Ungallant monarch, draw ! [They go out fighting. Sappho sinks down with her head bent forward, and her hands clasped in front of her Jcnees. The poets enter severally, saying as they pass before her, ' We wish the Lesbian joy!' Anacreon reels in, followed by Alceus, unperceived. ANACREON At Olympia Sappho spurned All the bards that for her burned ; Took to husband blooming Phaon, As she took her lyre to play on ; But aweary soon of play, With her slave he ran away : Lesbian, don't bewail the boy, I will wed thee still with joy. [He attempts to take her hand. Alcleus seizes him, and drags him out. Then returns. SCENE v.] SAPPHO. 101 ALC^US Sappho, beloved, what can Alcaeus do To mitigate the anguish of thy heart ? SAPPHO Alceeus, good, high-souled Alcaeus, nothing. Death and the grave can only serve me now. ALCJEUS Time medicines the worst of earthly ills. SAPPHO Ages would not suffice to heal my wounds. The jealousies of gods and men have slain me. ALC^US One sorrow ofttimes swallows up another. The young Erinna's dead — slain by thy woes, And sudden changed love. SAPPHO How blessed is she ! Her sleep, how sweet ! her rest, how enviable ! The woes that crush like mountains in their fall, The wrongs that kill can never reach her heart. Death's icy sea lies twixt her and all ills. RHODOPE (entering) baby, baby, courage take, and hope ! SAPPHO Hope is dead. 102 SAPPHO. [act hi. EHODOPE Hope liveth oft when seeming dead, Comes back to life when life appears extinct. The shipwrecked mariner sometimes finds escape By swimming, floating on a plank, or hanging Upon a rock amid the howling waves Until some unexpected vessel, driven Hither by friendly fortune, plucks him off: Sometimes the shepherd under shady beech, Sounding his pipe, beholds, affrighted but Not hurt, the lightning split the tree behind him. SAPPHO Come to thy meaning by the shortest way. EHODOPE Of wise Stratonica thou oft hast heard ; Her cave, in ivy mantled to the lips, Lies in a wood beyond the eastern gate. There for deserted lovers she invokes The good and evil sprites — and most of all The foe of Cupid's mother, Hecate. In occult science put thy faith, and come. SAPPHO My limbs would fail to carry me half way. EHODOPE I bore thee once about in swaddling clothes, And now, methinks, mine old limbs could support thee. ALC2EUS (aside) How crushed is she ; yet like some glorious ruin, Beautiful, even in her desolation. SCENE v.] SAPPHO. 103 sappho (rising slowly) A thought ! It comes like star out on the storm To guide the mariner. I'll to Sicily ! And by the laws of Greece reclaim my slave ! To Sicily! ha! ha! to Sicily! [Exit, followed by Rhodope and Alobus. A scene is drawn back, and discovers Athens on fire. the curtain. 104 SAPPHO. [act iv. ACT IV. SCENE I. Sicily. Evening. A lawn near a cottage, lighted by the fires of Mtna. Cleone in the attire of a shepherdess, her throat clasped by a rich diamond necMet, dancing with shepherds and shep- herdesses to the music of Phaon's pipe and other pastoral instruments. Glitus and Ehodope enter, disguised, and mingle among the dancers. CLITUS {drawing ehodope forward) In yonder little cottage dwell the lovers. It is alone, and all the portals wide. Fly to the galley ; bid the Lesbian hither To clutch the jewels Phaon stole from her To deck the dusky beauty of her slave : They all are there, locked in the golden casket, Except the diamond necklet that now clasps The tawny throat of yon muse-killing aspic. That hoary shepherd, leaning on his crook, Like a sieve, let all run through him at one tap. So straight he led my thoughts into the cottage, I there could lay my hand upon the jewels. Put thy nose in a cachette in the wall- Understand est ? Now, quick upon thy legs, While I enchain the revellers here with harping. [Exit Rhodope. SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 105 The lovers are romantic, and like music, And by the cunning of mine art I'll hold them Until the Lesbian trip their stolen joys. [Sets his harp down, and gazes fixedly at Cleone. Behold yon swarthy snake ! her little feet Now twinkling on the very heart of Sappho — The greatest heart Olympus ever launched. Is she a thing to pull the eagle down, And trail his heaven-fledged pinions in the dust ? perfidy ! base ingratitude ! Hell has no name that's black enough to fit thee ! [He plays. Shepherds gather around him, ex- amine his harp, then dance to its music. SCENE II. The sea shore, lighted by Mtna. Sappho, closely wrapped in a long black mantle, and wearing a helmet and visor enters from the galley, and walks to and fro. SAPPHO This is Sicilia ! Theme of Homer's lyre, And all so seeming fair one might not deem She holds an ^Etna in her heart : Scylla And dread Charybdis rend her ears ! It tells How fair a brow dissimulation wears : That smiles which play upon the lips art oft Reflections of volcanic fires beneath. [Pauses. Sicilia ! Thou art my sister, born to burning woes, To speechless sorrows, and volcanic throes. [ Walks to and fro ivith her eyes bent on an open letter, drops it, and gazes on the volcano. 106 SAPPHO. [act iv. hell of fires ! burning soul that vomitst Thy molten woes fall in the face of heaven ! Thou dost so stir the lava lakes locked in me, Dashest such seething currents through my veins, That to dwell with thee much would make me mad ! Could I so ope my heart, and strike space blind With its red agony, how well were it For me. Enter Rhodope. What news, Rhodope, bringst thy Sappho ? EHODOPE Why, baby, that in yonder little cottage Thou seest nestling 'mong the loving vines Thy faithless Phaon and Oleone dwell. SAPPHO all ye gods, uphold my reeling senses ! Am I awake ? Is this the earth whereon 1 stand, or some fantastic realm of dream ? Phaon and love dwell there, and Sappho absent ? It cannot be, ye gods ! It cannot be. Yenus, beauty of the skies, To whom a thousand temples rise ; Thou gaily false in gentle wiles, And full of love-perplexing smiles — goddess ! from my heart remove These wasting pangs and pains of love ! If ever thou hast kindly heard A song in deep distress preferred, Hear this ! and from the realms of air, Propitious to my tuneful prayer, SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 107 Descend, thou bright immortal guest, In all thy radiant charms confess'd. Twice thou didst leave Almighty Jove, And all the golden roofs above, In answer to my Paphian prayer ; Thy quivering sparrows clove the air, And as they earthward winged their way Like harps I heard their pinions play. Celestial visitant ! once more Thy needful presence I implore ; In pity come, and ease my grief, Bring my distempered soul relief; Quench in this bosom Cupid's fires, Or give me all my heart desires. Relent ! Unknit thy beauteous brow ! Clear up the storms of Hymen now : In yonder cottage break the chain Of lawless bliss, and let me reign ; Give me back Phaon — all his love, And never from me let him rove. RHODOPE (pulling her mantle) Sapphie ! Sapphie ! pray no more to Venus, The cruel, jealous, unrelenting goddess, But haste with me to yonder little cottage, Whose open doors invite thee to walk in And take possession of the stolen casket. A shepherd at the dance upon the lawn Where, now, Cleone's little feet keep time To Phaon's pipe, told Clitus where to touch it. 108 SAPPHO. [act iv. SAPPHO Mysterious powers that stand behind the veil Pending between the present and the future, Seeing, unseen, speak out ! and tell me if There be in store for me a happy greeting, Or if the arrow shall strike deeper home ? EHODOPE Come, baby, quick, or we shall lose the jewels. [Exeunt. A Galley heaves in sight, and lands. Aloeus disembarks from it. ALGEUS Thanks to the gods, I am arrived at last, Despite the tempests that have held me back An hour behind my love ! There is her galley. Sappho ! She answers not ; yet is she here, The perfume of her presence fills the air With incense sweet as breath of Araby. What's this ! an open letter on the sand ? [Reads it. 1 Oh ! couldst thou know the burning pain That wrings my heart, and sears my brain ! ' 'Tis Sappho's hand ! the Lesbian's burning words ; [Kisses it. O precious jewel that dost tell me I Am close upon the footsteps of the Muse ! Here are her tiny footprints in the sand ! Here has she stood, here told her woes to JEtna, And from her red eyes drawn a sea of tears. [Throws himself on the sand, and kisses the footprints. O sweet impressions ! angelic imprints ! Ye have removed whole mountains from my heart ; SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 109 It leaps again, ha ! ha ! its fountains play In the bright sunlight of eternal day. I am not mad, yet am I something like it, This frenzied joyance might have birth in Bedlam ; . What ignis-fatuus lures me o'er the sea, Following the flight of an inconstant star. What is this potent spell that holds me down Here like a giant arm ? alas ! Love is My conqueror ; these twenty years I've vainly Battled with him. Yon crimson hell whose breath Blows out the stars, and strikes heaven blind, turns pale Before the iEtna burning in my heart. \_Eorit. SCENE III. The interior of tke cottage. Phaon-'s casquette and gloves lying on a table — his sword hanging on the wall — music and sounds of merriment heard without. Enter Sappho leaning on Khodope. SAPPHO. O happy threshold that dost kiss his feet ! O happy roof that shelterst his dear head ! O happy walls that list his loving voice ! And are all woof'd and wefted with his smiles. Oh ! let me clasp ye, fold ye to my heart, And drink death from the poisoned cup of bliss. hallowed casquette that dost clasp his brow, Lie on my bosom where his heart hath lain So oft, discoursing love — the sweets of heaven. gloves ! protectors of the beauteous hands 110 SAPPHO. [act it. That held me, swooning, in electric clasp, Come to my bosom, too ! Lie there, and talk Of joys that were, bliss nevermore to be. phaon (entering suddenly) Who're ye ? What seek ye here ? rhodope (concealing the casket under her mantle) We are your friends. And seek a gentle greeting. PHAON (seeing the cachette open) Ho! thief! thief! Shepherds rush in followed by Clitus and Oleon^, and seize Sappho and Rhodope. sappho (tearing herself from them) Unhand me, villains ! Keep a peaceful distance. PHAON (to SAPPHO) What hast thou there ? SAPPHO Thy casquette and thy gloves. PHAON Put them where thou didst find them and avaunt ! SAPPHO Anon. PHAON What brought thee here ? scekb in.] SAPPHO. Ill SAPPHO Cleone and The stolen jewels. PHAOX {snatching his sword from the xoall) Liar ! thief ! robber ! CLITUS {striking up his blade) Dastard ! back. SAPPHO {throwing up her visor) Phaon, behold the thief ! PHAON {staggering backward) Te gods ! tis Sappho ! SCENE IV. The Lawn as in Act IV. Scene I. Sappho rushes in dishevelled and bleeding, followed by Clitus and Rhodope. SAPPHO mighty Gods ! avengers of the wronged ! Where are your lightnings ? Where your thunder- bolts ? Have love, humanity, gallantry fled the earth, And men put on the shapes of brutish beasts ? He smote me with the hand that once caressed me, Did curse me with the tongue that swore me love — Come death ! Oblivion ! ye are welcome now, 112 SAPPHO. [act iv. Since sacredness no longer holds a place Within the sanctuary of man's heart. [Sinks down, weeping. CLITUS (smiting the ground with his Thou dread Apollo ! Guardian of the Muse, And swift avenger of the wrongs of men ! Hurl double-barbed arrows through his heart, And send his perjured soul as far into The naming depths of Erebus as he Has plunged this child into the sea of sorrow ! From damned abodes, terrific Circe come, And from the beauteous form that now he wears Transform him to a snake, the thing he is, And couch him in the arms of green-eyed Scylla, Or, licking the dust, let him creep down to hell. Enter officers ivith Cleone in chains and Phaon in custody, followed by a crowd of shepherds. phaon (throwing his arms round cleone) To touch this angel let none venture more ! Although disarmed, not without arms am I ; Each limb in her defence becomes an arm, And every arm a giant. Tremble not Belov'd ; while Phaon breathes no ill shall touch thee ! Villains ! look on this lovely innocent ! You men ! and shackle beauty thus ! Gall her Sweet flesh ? this only could a woman do ! Cleone come with me. officer (stepping before him) Stir not a step. SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 113 PHAON Am I not free ! Is justice fled the earth ? OFFICER None are free when a penalty is pending. PHAON A penalty ! For what ? OFFICER For slave- stealing. PHAON Oh ! I will pay the ransom — pay it all ! OFFICER A criminal should plead, not dictate terms. PHAON Are you so abject as to aid a monster ? OFFICER Thee I'll detain, and chain if Sappho bid it. PHAON Ancient, perfidious man ! dost thou not blush Such crouching words to utter. Who is Sappho ? Is she the umpire of the world ? OFFICER Her hest Is law. He who could break a woman's soul Upon a stolen slave, and to his crime Add theft and profanation of her person, I 1 14 SAPPHO. [act iv. In witness whereof speak those crimson drops, Hath forfeited official clemency. PHAON Ah ! ha ! old man ! Her Circe charms round thee She's woven too ! I'll try her spells again On me. Officee {stepping before him) Aback ! molest not Sappho. PHAON Thwart me not. Toad ! I will learn of what such hearts are made. Ah ! ha ! thou tremblst. It is thy turn now To quake, and "blanch, and grow weak in the knees ! So silent still ! The Poet's lip so dumb ? Oh ! throw away thy mask, and be thyself. Thou Circe ! killing with thy damned charms, By what right dost thou here detain a Greek ? SAPPHO The right that Greece gives to detain a thief. The robbery of a slave is paid with death, Give me Cleone or abide the law. phaon (startled) Dragon ! thy ransom name. SAPPHO I ask no ransom. I claim my slave by right of Grecian law. PHAON Thy dagger forfeited thy right to her, But I will pay thy ransom ! SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 115 SAPPHO With my jewels ? Officers, obey my order ; bring Cleone. phaon (to officer) By touching her you touch upon your death. [Falls at Sappho's feet. Sappho, Sappho \ is thy bosom stone ? Melts it no more to human grief and pain ? SAPPHO Ingratitude has slain the angel in me. 1 claim my slave. Cleone must come with me. PHAON Sappho ! what demon hand hath changed thy heart To adamant ? Where is that tenderness, That sweet, unfathomed sympathy with love, That wove their fatal spells around my life, And took Olympus captive ? Look at me ! Let me peruse thy face, and see if 'tis The wondrous Sappho who bewildered worlds ! SAPPHO Thou hast destroyed it all. PHAON 'Tis Sappho's voice ! Its magic tones I hear. SAPPHO (aside) He loves me still ! i 2 1 1 6 SAPPHO. [act iv. PHAON Kims' to the wind whate'er I've done amiss, o And be to me again the godlike Muse ! SAPPHO All wrongs I will forgive — forget. PHAON I knew it ! [Flings his arms round Cleone. Give me this child, my light, my life ! SAPPHO Deceiver ! PHAON No, that I am not ! By the gods, I'm not ! The love I swore thee was not to deceive thee. I loved thee, worshipped thee, adored thee, Bnt as the gods are loved, adored and worshipped. The Lesbian struck the lyre. The world rose np To listen. Peasants, poets, seers stood awed, And monarchs laid their sceptres at her feet. I then an humble, unknown shepherd-boy, Untutored in the art of witchery, Rose up and listened — worshipped with the rest. The music of thy lyre entranced my soul, And kindled in my bosom unknown fires, The Athenian tyrant lured thee to his court, Thee I beheld — inexplicable joy ! T told to thee my love. Thy smiles inflamed And wove insidious charms around my brain. ed for Hymen's chains — thouboundst them on me. Awhile their charmed weight intoxicated, SCENE IV.] SAPPHO. 1 1 Then brought my heart a vague uneasy thirst The ocean of thy love refused to slake. If blame attach, proud muse, it is to thee. Thou wert a full-grown woman, sane in mind, And learned in sorcery — I, a boy, and mad — Drunk on the amorous music of thy lyre. My boyish flame thy duty was to quench, Xot feed with fatal fuel. Know, sad Lesbian, That unions of such elements composed, Like hot embrace of Auster w T ith Aquilo, Have no adhesive qualities to hold them, And that the equal only truly love. When first I looked upon this lovely child — Sweet lily in the valley of my life — Lifting her modest head no higher than Her native vales, the fountains of my heart Burst forth. Cleone, dearest, plead our cause, Unveil the liquid mirror of thine eyes, That she within thine angel breast may look, And all thy deathless love for Phaon see. cleoxe (kneeling) Sappho, sweet muse ! SAPPHO Ungrateful slave ! arise ! CLEONE Sappho, Sappho ! generous, godlike Sappho ! Kill not thy child ; but give her light, life, Phaon, Dearer than life ! SAPPHO {seizing her with drawn dagger) Sweet, smooth-tongued adder take Thy venomed tooth from out my heart, ere I Uncage thy damned soul ! 18 SAPPHO. [act iv. PHAON Hold ! Murderess ! Drasron ! SAPPHO Plebeian ! ditch-born repfcile ! hence ! To take thy trial at the bar of Jove ! O Gods ! I'm mad, and know not what I do. [Throws away the dagger, and falls at Phaon' S /eel Phaon, forgive this frenzy ; kill me not. For me there is no earth, no heaven, but thee — No joy, no light, no life. [Joins their hands. To thee I give Cleone — take the child, And in the hnmblest corner of the cottage Accord to me a resting place that I May see thee, hear thee, do thee menial service. do ! do ! and all my gold is thine. PHAON (smiting her) The she- wolf would I shelter, but not thee ! Hold off thy hands, thy touch is venomous ! Off ! Off ! coil not thy folds around me ! SAPPHO (clinging to him) Phaon ! Phaon ! kill me not ! kill me not yet ! [Clitus tears her from, him, and stretching his trembling hands above him, cries. CLITUS Enmenides ! dread avengers come ! With lambert curses pin this twain to earth Fast as the rivets of Promethian chains Bit down into the rock of Caucasus ! SCENE IT.] SAPPHO. 119 With hell-begotten breath melt their fine flesh, And fling the ashes to the howling winds ! Down in these hollow bosoms where now sit Their iron bound hearts let slimy reptiles bask, And croaking ravens build their brooding nests ! Eumenides, Eumenides, appear ! [The Furies rush in with blazing breath. Clitus and Rhodope bear Sappho out, right, swooning. Alcmtjs enters, left, followed by sailors and shepherds. ALC^US Miscreant ! robber ! dastard ! where is Sappho ? phaon (springing up) Gone to hell, I hope ! ALC^US Perfidious villian ! draw, defend thyself ! [They fight; Phaon falls. PHAON Oh, I am slain ! Cleone, I am slain ! O gods ! what agony, what agony ! Come with me, child ; there's bliss beyond the grave ! [Dies. cleone" O Phaon, Phaon ! leave me not alone ; Come back ! speak, speak ! He moves not, he is cold. gods ! he's dead ! Strike me dead too, ye Furies ! Swift on your flaming breath send me to Hades, To join my love, my only friend on earth ! [The Furies breathe on her. She falls on Ms body. Dies. THE CURTAIN. 120 SAPPHO. [act v. ACT V. SCENE I. Ionia. The promontory of Leucate. Interior of the temple of Apollo. A statue of the god, centre, in the attitude of having just sped an arrow. Suppliants kneeling around it. Bar- barians laying offerings at its feet. A high-priest with flowing beard and snowy leeks, encircled by the sacred laurel, seen sacrificing at an altar. Enter Sappho, closely veiled, and followed by Clitus and Rhodope. Jt iih a mien of awe she approaches the altar. SAPPHO Priest of Apollo, deign to hear my prayer, Who, urged by fate and obscure oracles Over the dangerous sea am hither come To learn from thee the potent will of heaven, And from this god implore benignant favours. high priest (turning sloivly round) Tell me what favour of this god thou beggest. Surely a maid like thee comes not to pray The god for skill in vibrating the arrow Like warriors ; nor implore his fruitful warmth Like agricultors ; nor bewitching gift Of lancinating animals with music As harpers, minstrels oft are wont to do ? SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 121 SAPPHO no ! far different is mine errand hither. HIGH PRIEST Thou seekst, perchance, within the sacred bath Of Leucate to cure thyself of some Unconquerable malady of love ? SAPPHO Well hast thou guessed the object of my mission. HIGH PEIEST Thy name and country, the history of thy woe, Ere I invoke the god, I needs must know. SAPPHO Alas ! I am the ill-starred maid of Lesbos, HIGH PRIEST The Lesbian Muse ? SAPPHO Alas ! the Lesbian Sappho, Summoned to Athens by Pisistratus With loftiest poets to contest the laurel, Which unto me was lawfully adjudged. I met a youth — the Aclonean Phaon — And in my heart received the fatal arrow. HIGH PRIEST Was thy love chaste, and of the gods approved ? 122 SAPPHO. [act v. SAPPHO As chaste as snow that never touched the earth, And at Olympian altars sanctified, HIGH PRIEST What came between thee and thy Paphian lord ? SAPPHO My slave. HIGH PRIEST Thy slave ! SAPPHO My little slave, Cleone. Alas ! alas ! HIGH PRIEST SAPPHO I loved her as my child ; Him as the gods. To Sicily they fled, Abetted by Pisistratns, the Tyrant, Who willed to place his crown upon my head, And maddened by defeat, struck at my heart This dreadful blow. HIGH PRIEST infamous ! most foul ! Sappho (kneeling) Venerable man ! sage servant of the gods ! Ambassador of Jove, and priest of Phoebus ! Who in the ledger of thy memory Hast registered a thousand tales of woe, SCENE I.] SAPPHO. 123 And knowest Low to judge aright the heart, Judge me, and lay my cause before Olympus. Bare to celestial eyes this bleeding bosom That never dreamed revolt against the godhead, Or nursed infringement of its smallest precept. Naked present my soul before its judges, That they may see how much too large it is For its allotted orbit. Its necessity To tread the broader circuits lying outward, And, therefore, comprehend why 'tis thus bruised And broken, and why this fabled bath I seek. If I have erred 'twas not from wish to run Counter to sacred law, but want of light- More light to lamp the ways that lead to heaven. Pitying my woe, then, with these waters quench The flame that, like a fiery serpent, lies Coiled in this breast, this dreadful heartache ease, Quicken these veins, revive this dying pulse, Tinge these pale cheeks, give light to these dim eyes, And nimbleness to limbs once like the fawn's. HIGH PEIEST The sacred bath of Leucate alone Doth in it hold the power of renovation. Descend therein — be healed — rejuvinated. SAPPHO Since such sweet audience to my prayer thou givest, Explain to me the nature of this bath For which the oracles have sent me hither, And in which thou dost put such wondrous faith. Unfold to me the powers wherewith it quenches The fires of Cupid, and a heartache ends That neither foreign climes, nor prayers, nor tears, Nor filling of the world with sighs can ease. 124 SAPPHO. t [act v. HIGH PRIEST This would I do if power to me were given, For I do pity thee with all my heart. Arise, ill-fated Muse, and follow me, And I will show to thee the bath wherein Lovers, not less afflicted than thyself, Have plunged, and quenched the gnawing fires of Cupid. [Exeunt Omnes. SCENE II. A little jetty, reached by a secret path leading from the temple. The white rock of Leucate, jutting out over the sea. Enter High Priest, followed by Sappho, Cutus, and Ehodopb. high priest (pointing to the rock) Thou seest yonder snowy promontory Jutting out o'er the sea. That is the rock Of Leucate. From it Deucalion To cure himself of love for matchless Pyrrha ; Phobus, Phocension of the house of Codrus, And Cephalus, the son of Dyonesus, And sad rejected lover of Ptaola, To heal love's wounds headlong impetuous leaped. SAPPHO wretched me ! Is this the sighed for cure ? Ah ! what else can it bring to me but death, Since, knowing not the swimmer's art, I'll sink A prey to dreadful monsters of the sea ? SCENE II.] SAPPHO. 125 HIGH PRIEST Why carnst thou to this place thus unsubmissive ? Have faith ! SAPPHO wretched me ! wretched me ! Death, ghastly death, stares at me from the waves. HIGH PEIEST Let fear not overcome thy wits ! From thence Deucalion, and Cephalus, and Pbobus, Whose names and feats are written on yonder rock, For benefit of chicken-hearted bathers, Putting their whole trust in the gods, did leap, And came forth healed and free from amorous pangs As they had drunk the sea of Lethe dry. SAPPHO To me the gods will prove not thus propitious ! HIGH PRIEST Submission wins the favour of the gods. If, with a mind confiding in them wholly, Unwavering and undoubting, thou dost leap, Thou mayst expect a most auspicious exit. SAPPHO Attend me to the brink of yonder rock ; Thy holy presence will inspire me strength. HIGH PRIEST This are the servants of the gods forbidden. Shut the door of reason, east out fear and doubt, Gird up the sinews of thy soul with faith, 126 SAPPHO. [act v. Ascend the rock, fly to the brink, and leap, While on my knees I'll supplicate the gods To bring thee from the waters healed and cooled As from salubrious bath in summer time. [G> SAPPHO Stay, holy man. Leave me not yet ! Leave me Not yet, but say — If in this sea I leap, And Fate decree I never issue thence, Whither shall I go ? In what strange world abode ? What shape assume ? What likeness there put on ? HIGH PE1EST Such knowledge gods withhold. SAPPHO Then do we need A higher godhead ! [Thunder. HIGH PEIEST Impious woman, list ! The anger of the gods ! SAPPHO I bide their wrath. Unfold to me the mysteries of that world To which all go, and from which none return. The grave — is it a couch of dreamless sleep, Or one on which some future morn will break ? HIGH PEIEST Seek not to know the secrets of the gods Lest with just wrath they strike thee from this world. [Exit. scene n.] SAPPHO. 127 SAPPHO Woe ! woe ! woe is me ! None give the key That opes the portal of eternity ; And, like the blind, I hence mnst grope my way With rayless eyeballs, feeling for the day ! [Exit, followed by Clitus and Rhodope. SCENE III. The rock of Leucate. The sea seen beyond. A tablet near the brink of the rock on which is writ, 'Deucalion, Cephaetjs, and Phobus leaped from this rock to cure themselves of love, and came forth healed.' Sappho enters with a timid step, followed at a distance by Ceitus and Ehodope. She pauses an instant before the tablet. Approaches the brink, looks over, and starts back with a shriek. SAPPHO Horror ! horror of the world of horrors ! The flames of Tartarns flashed in mine eyes ! Demoniac visions, writhing sonls stretched ont On lakes of fire with crimson eyeballs stared Me blind, and rent my ears with horrid shrieks. When reason reels how vast's imagination, How wonderful the worlds it conjures up, It rolls the ocean from his coral bed, And bears the flaming heart of hell beneath. b csJlxJ) \She approaches the brink again, and starts bach. I Woe ! woe ! woe is me ! woe is me ! I cannot of myself let go this world, And trust to that of which I know nought of ; 128 SAPPHO. [act v. Yet must I do it ! It is Fate's decree ! Ionian hills, and blue-eyed heavens, give ear ; Hearken, hearken to my dying plaint ! I stand alone upon the shores of time A pendulum vibrating twixt two worlds That know me not. Bards who sued at my feet, Monarchs who paved my way with diadems, With love and glory turned their faces from me ; Olympian smiles that wreathed my path whilome Are in the hour of my dread need withheld : The courage that spurned giants from its way, As if they had been overweening pigmies ; The faithless currents of my veins have flown, My very pulses have forsaken me, And left me like a fallen leaf adrift Upon the river of oblivion. The sorrows I have known have found no tongue, The raptures I have felt I've faintly sung : Words were too weak to hold the inspiration With which the chalice of my soul o'errun. And like sweet dew it back to heaven exhaled ; But on the brow of time I've writ my name Beyond the power of wrong to stamp it out, Or envy to obliterate its glory ; Ages unborn shall laud the Lesbian lyre. Sages and children lisp the songs of Sappho, While leaning from some star I'll list their praises. Mine error speaks : of the gods I asked too much : [ asked the laurel and the myrtle twined : They gave the laurel, but refused the myrtle, And to their will submissively I bow, Forgiving mortals and immortals now. ; halo of light encircles her as she ivalJcs back- ward loivards the brink. SCENE III.] SAPPHO, 129 Eternity is opening on my vision, Millions of white hands beckoning me away — Adieu ! Adieu ! This is the last of earth ! [She turns, and leaps into the sea. Cirrus rushes over after her. Ehodope, tearing her hair, hobbles to the brink. Alcjeus, crying ' Sappho ' comes running up ilie rock, folloived by his sailors. ALdEUS Where's Sappho ? where the prize of Greece ? RHODOPE There, drowned ! Alcasus drowned, and dead ! ALCiEUS The Lesbian drowned ? Millions of Leucate's could drown her not ! The Lesbian dead ! that Sappho cannot die Is written in the book of destiny. [Struggles with sailors. Avaunt ! all mortal presence now is odious ! Hold off your hands ! What now is life to me ? My lamp's gone out, my beacon set for aye ! RHODOPE Let us embalm her memory with sweet tears ! ALCtEUS Had I an ocean I would pour them out ! I loved the Lesbian more than Jove, than life ; Weep mother earth ! weep thy most gifted child ! Weep, ye rocks ! Ionian hills lament ! K 130 SAPPHO. [act v. And all ye heavens put on the weeds of woe. Withered is the laurel, shattered is the lyre : Bat as the living lightnings light the sky, Its deathless fires shall lume eternity ! Upon the earth there was no home for Sappho, And with the angels she has gone to dwell. [Sappho's spirit, on angeVs wings, appears above the briiik. Look ! look ! behold her spirit clothed in light, Heaven-pinioned, winging its immortal flight ! Open the windows of this house of clay ! And give my soul egress ! None will obey ! (Stabs himself.) 'Tis done ! O gods ! and I am on my way To join the Lesbian in the realms of day. [Dies. TABLEAU* SOLEMN MUSIC. THE CURTAIN. EPILOGUE.] SAPPHO. 131 EPILOGUE. The Muse, whose tale ye'd learned from classic pages. And only seen through mists of distant ages, So dim and far she seemed a fabled sprite, Moving upon life's stage ye've seen to-night ; A creature like yourselves of flesh and blood, With the same passions, hopes, and fears imbued. The queen of song, ye've seen the poets greet Her as their peer, kings suing at her feet. Upon Olympus' highest summit stand, Amid applauding Greece serene and bland, And to a brainless shepherd give her hand ; Then roving down the vales of dark despair, A moaning maniac, tearing her long hair, By evil spirits towards destruction driven, And calling on the god whom heaven had not yet given. Ye've seen her stand amid the pitiless storm Of fate, encircled by no loving arm, By height and depth of soul removed as far From human sympathy as some lone star, Or comet burning its mysterious way, And mid it all have only heard her pray For light to guide her toward Olympian day ; Then turn deaf ears to envy's classic lies, And judge her by the senses of your eyes. 132 SAPPHO. [epilogue. Matrons and maids ! All who have truly loved ! Whose lovers, husbands, all have faithful proved, Whose watchful cares, and smiles, and godlike worth, Have made your homes the Edens of the earth, Think of the wife desert, the loved one flown, And make the ill-starred Lesbian's case your own : Freely and tenderly let your heart founts flow, And help her as you can to bear her woe. Drive slander from your doors, it is a thief That brings its thousands every day to grief ; Falsehood abashed, from social altars send, And with true hearts a sister's cause defend. Remember Sappho lived in other times, When Jove rewarded virtue, punished crimes ; When woman had no friend to take her part, And calm the troubled waters of her heart, To lend a patient ear to all her woe. If wrong assail you now to Christ ye go ; Who turns you not away on any grounds, But pours the balm of Gilead in your wounds. LONDON : PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET Just published, Third Edition. The King's Stratagem; OR THE PEARL OF POLAND, .A. TRAGEDY I2ST FIVE ACTS. By STELLA. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. '"The King's Stratagem" has symmetry, grace, and tender- ness ; and a strongly accentuated individuality ; and is worthy of the reputation of La Stella.' — Home Journal. ' It complies with all the conditions of legitimate tragedy.' (London) Examiner. ' It is a play more fitted for the study than the stage.' Westminster Eeview. ' " The King's Stratagem," from the pen of a gifted lady, under the nom de flume Stella, brings out into deep relief the terrible nature and punishment of crime, and the ennobling effects of true, constant love.' — Victoria Magazine. ' " The King's Stratagem " was intended for the stage, and with good acting would be popular, as there is no lack of inci- dent, and the story affords plenty of opportunities for theatrical effect. The plot turns upon the loves of Christine, the Pearl of Poland, and Milo : the king of the country has the hero assassinated in order to steal his bride, but she is saved from her intended fate, and retribution falls upon the ravish er. The best passage, as far as writing is concerned, is the bishop's speech in the last scene of Act I.' — (London) Graphic. ' It is not often that we have seen anything so exquisite as this five-act tragedy.' — Saturday Review. ' A tragedy of undoubted energy and merit.' Illustrated Review. ' "The King's Stratagem ; or the Pearl of Poland," is dedi- cated to those who "believe in the intervention of Heaven between mortal belligerents." We have ourselves looked through its pages, and confess there is much to ward off dulness. Al- though the piece is professedly " a tragedy in five acts," there are scenes of excellent comedy sometimes appearing unexpectedly in the midst of more serious matter. Eor instance, we have a dialogue between Stanislas, Bishop of Cracow, who is supposed to be afflicted with a grief which has turned his hair suddenly white, and his servant Jean. The circumstances are sombre enough in themselves, but the author has managed to treat them with much lightness and vivacity. We think our readers may now form some idea of the peculiar and quite exceptional qualities to be found in a very curious volume. We could wish that poetry would, at least, be always as amusing as the " Pearl of Poland."' — Globe. ' " The King's Stratagem " is a tale of love and crime forcibly conducted to its tragic denouement. The plot is clearly conceived, the scenes well posed, and the characters drawn with a vigorous hand. The tone is high, and scattered through the piece are passages where the language rises to dramatic dignity.' Worcester Journal. ' " The King's Stratagem," from the pen of Stella, the most talented of the American poets, is a dramatic version of one of the most tragic incidents of Polish History. It is full of striking positions, and if well put upon the stage would be popular.' — Rhyl Record. ' " The King's Stratagem ; or the Pearl of Poland" (second edition), is marked by skill of execution and a keen eye toward dramatic effect.' — New York Independent. 'An American lady, La Stella (Estella A. Lewis), now living in England, has published through the house of Trubner & Co., of London, a poem entitled "The King's Stratagem; or the Pearl of Poland." It is a tragedy in five acts, and relates the story of Boleslas II. , King of Poland ; his abduction of Christine, the "Pearl of Poland," and daughter of Stanislas, Bishop of Cracow, upon the eve of her marriage with Pierre Milo, a Polish nobleman ; and the means resorted to by the bishop to effect the release of his daughter from her imprisonment in the royal palace. The book is dedicated " to those who love truth and justice, and believe in the intervention of Heaven between mortal belligerents." In the poem Heaven is represented as alarmed at the crime committed by the King of Poland, and it at once sends to earth the ghost of Pierre Milo, who was murdered on his nuptial night by the favourites of the king, to assist in restoring Christine to her father. Says the poetess in her prologue : — " To lift up Truth from under Perjury's heel, Behold the sepulchre her gates nnseal ; Dead bones around them wrap their dust and walk, And stand before a mighty king and talk." ' While the poem proves to be an interesting narrative, and many of its passages are meritorious, the ghostly element is rather too strong, even for people with active imaginations, who do not object to ghosts. Physiologists, and others curious in such matters, will be interested in reading of the manner in which Milo left his grave : — " I stood right on the border of the grave And looked down in the coffin, which was lidless, And saw with my two eyes wide open, sire — Wide open— and clear of vision as they're now — The fine dust stir, then rise like ashes when A softly breathing zephyr blows into them ; Then settle back upon the dry white bones, And take the form of purple-threaded gauze, Whose fairy meshes 'gan to pulse and throb ; And crimson streams, no larger than the veins That interline the pinions of a fly. Along the violet-latticed rays to roll Into a central fountain in the breast — Eight in the spot where, sire, once beat the heart — The noble, youthful, palpitating heart The bosom heaved — the eyes into their sockets leaped, Flashing like stars amid the crepuscule— The lips did smile — the hair put on its hues — And Milo rose — and stood up in the grave ! " ' The reader will perceive that a woman who ean write like the above, is capable of producing a lasting poem No obstacle is too great for her to overcome.' — New York Aldine. 'A new five-act tragedy by the popular authoress of the " Kecords of the Heart" is certain to attain a certain amount of popularity, whatever its merits may be. 'The story which she has selected for dramatic treatment, although dealing with historical personages, can scarcely be deemed to have any foundation in fact, and we cannot help thinking that La Stella has lost a legitimate opportunity of pro- ducing a good standard drama, both for the stage and the study, by introducing incidents not merely impossible, but repugnant to reason. The introduction of spiritual agency into the drama is, undoubtedly, warranted by high example ; but even Shakes- peare does not dare to ascribe the actions of humanity to his ghosts — they come and go like guilty thoughts, and any one who attempts to go further is in danger of taking that one step which separates the sublime from its contrast, is in danger of reducing the tragic to the burlesque. Its spectral dramatis jpersonce is the one fault we find with " The King's Stratagem." The plot is clear, dramatic, and flows swiftly and uninterruptedly to its close. The characters —even the minor ones — are strongly indi- vidualised ; they are not mere lay figures distorted into all kinds of postures to suit the showman's wants ; the language is vigor- ous and energetic, and the incidents effective and dignified. The difficulty of selecting from a poem — for such title this drama is worthy of — is well known ; there are many starry thoughts which will serve to sustain, if they do not extend, the reputa- tion of La Stella, and many fine sentences beaten out on the anvil of imagination ; but disconnected passages no more afford a faithful idea of an entire play than did the one brick of the Scholasticus show what the house was like. At haphazard, however, we take the third scene in the first act, when Stanislas, the good old Bishop of Cracow, purposes to confide his only child, his beloved daughter, " the Pearl of Poland," to Lord Milo:— Stanislas. It must be so, alas ! it must be so ! This selfish heart mast render np its idol, The deified Penates of my household. For eighteen years 1'v^been a faithful shepherd, Watching the fold of one dear little lamb, And fortifying it with love and prayer ; For eighteen years have studied how to shield Its helplessness against the wind and wave— The wolf that is the scourge of bleeding Poland. The time is come that asks a change of shepherds. (Lord Milo enters.) I am so glad, my lord, to meet thee here, Where there's no ear but thine and heaven's to hear The overflowing of my full-pent heart. A solemn matter have I to unfold Concerning one of whom thou ne'er hast heard, But who is dearer to me than my life. Milo (aside). He's going to talk to me about his daughter, And thinks I know not of so fair a creature ; Dreams not I've scaled. the wall a thousand times To see her galloping beneath the limes — Lavished upon her charms all powers of art, And wear her beauteous image on my heart. (To Stanislas.) Thy sweet confessional, my lord, I'll list. Stanislas. Milo, my friend, couldst thou a shepherd be ? Milo. I've had no practice in the fold, my lord. Stanislas. Milo, give ear ! Just eighteen years ago God trusted to my keeping a white lamb, So tiny, tender, and so beautiful, I feared to touch it with my mortal hands. For eighteen years I've been its prayerful keeper — Tended it, nursed it in my bosom till It is become a part of my own life. Milo, I want a shepherd for my lamb — A tender, watchful, prayerful, loving shepherd." ' For how Milo accepted the trust gleefully, and for the terrible denouement of the tale, we must refer the reader to this remark- able work itself.' — Mirror. Tenth Edition. Illustrated. RECORDS OF THE HEART, And other Poems. B IT S T IE 31 HI ^ _ ' The contents of this volume bear no traces of affinity with any of the popular schools of recent English poetry. The poetess gives no sign of the idolatrous devotion to Shelley or Tennyson or Browning, which fur- nishes inspiration to such a host of imitators. Her poems are the utter- ances of her inspired soul— original and fresh. In spite of the numerous sonnets, which might be supposed to have a personal bearing, it is the delineation of human emotion, instead of the egotistic self-revelations, which forms the essential charm of these beautiful poems.' — New York Tribune. ' The sonnets in this volume are remarkable for beauty of thought and force of expression. Those to " Adhemar" entitle the author to the appel- lation of." The Female Petrarch." '— Lamartine (CoursdeLitterature). ' Stella Lewis is one of the most gifted poetical minds of this country. Her celebrity comes not from the writing of sentimental verses and sleepy sonnets, but from the composition of some of the most majestic and brilliant poems belonging to English literature. She is a poet in the truest sense. Her whole nature, her commonest thoughts, her every impulse, her life, are based on poetic inspiration.'— New York Sunday Times. / iPOTTISWOQDE&Cfl LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 012 225 386 7 Q