Glass 
 
 hokr.S z:\ . ^ 
 
 Copyright )j°_ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
XTbe Seal of IDellas 
 
 (A CLASSICAL DRAMA) 
 
 BY 
 TEMPLE OLIVER 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Author of "A Forest Idyl," "Day Lilies," 
 
 *'The Mayor of Kanemeta," "Donald 
 
 Moncrieff, ' ' * 'The Christ, ' ' etc. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH ^ COMPANY 
 
 1915 
 
'?5»'^'°5 
 
 ^2.3 
 
 ? 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Copyright, 1915 
 Sherman, French & Company 
 
 4/^ 
 
 m 17 1915 
 
 ©CU398841 
 
TO 
 H AND /ID 
 
 IN RECOGNITION 
 OF HAPPY HOURS SPENT WITH THEM 
 IN THE FIELDS OF CLASSIC ROMANCE 
 
BOOK THE FIRST 
 
ARIADNE AND KING MINOS 
 
 Ariadne pleads with Kmg Minos, 
 
 Aeiadne 
 My father and my king, thy youngest born 
 Would stand, a suppliant, before thy throne 
 To plead a wrong's surcease, — wrong not mine 
 
 own, 
 Yet by its pall all joy of life is shorn. 
 Why this dark seal with royal honors worn 
 Upon thy breast? A vow? Could aught atone 
 For tribute paid by blood? No farthest zone 
 Of Jove's domain but such rash vow would 
 
 scorn ! 
 But Hope, the prophet, beckons from afar. 
 Brave Theseus shall scale both rock and scaur 
 Of those dark walls which Daedalus had planned, 
 Set free this curse from Crete, our own fair land. 
 His strong right arm shall slay the Minotaur, 
 And thine the glory ; Minos cannot err. 
 
 Sevenfold demand to mark our prince's death? 
 
 Slain by Athenian king? O needless vow! 
 
 Cast off that seal of blood ; 'tis paid enow. 
 
 Would seven times seven restore his life and 
 
 breath ? 
 
 This strange, dark symbol yield to my jealous 
 
 stealth, 
 
 1 
 
Cfie @)eal of fellas 
 
 And all its lurking menace disavow. 
 
 To thy command the world of Crete shall bow, — 
 
 For joy would fain be held pain's aftermath. 
 
 Thy hand shall set the weeping captives free, 
 
 And give them from to-day full liberty ; 
 
 This ring of gold and gems shall be my pledge, 
 
 Also my guerdon and my privilege ; 
 
 Long ere I speed to fair Athena's zone, 
 
 The years of wrong thy justice shall atone. 
 
 I know full well thy tenderness and ruth 
 That this brave youth may never more return 
 From such a tortuous labyrinthine bourne. 
 So all is yet conditional ? The truth 
 We still must strive for? True, thy heart doth 
 
 yearn 
 For one long dead. But e'en our prince would 
 
 spurn 
 Such slow concession. Give the word, and sooth 
 Both gods and men your gratitude would earn. 
 But hark, my liege, and I will tell a tale 
 Of secret, wise design ; it will not fail, 
 But safe and wise and sure as destiny, 
 'Twill work its spell to bring my love to me 
 Before the morning sun has tinged the lea ; 
 See, here the sign, — thy blood-red gem grows 
 
 pale. 
 
 We know that there are deadly foes to face 
 
Cfie Seal of ^ella0 3 
 
 In that dark cave, — fierce foes that threaten 
 
 life 
 Of babes, of tender things, and ever hail the 
 
 strife 
 Of life with death if life shall win the race. 
 And, father, though my warrior prince should 
 
 place 
 His chance of youth with joy of living rife. 
 And all his veins should throb with murderous 
 
 pace 
 And he left stranded in that ghoulish space, 
 Thou knowest well that 'tis a childhood's tale 
 That must be met, — a popular demand, — 
 That some great warrior of the alien land 
 Must risk his life to make the pledge seem true ; 
 The real reprieve must rest alone with you ! 
 For should he die the death, with weapon hurled. 
 How much could this rash act have helped the 
 
 world ? 
 
 Oh, how implacable is royalty ! 
 
 If good can ever minimize the ill, — 
 
 And good, we know, an age's wrong can kill, — 
 
 Its virtue lies in spontaneity. 
 
 My brother from his realm calls out to me. 
 
 And prays for right and justice. Cease from 
 
 ill, 
 O sire beloved, the annals of thy reign to fill 
 With deeds that hold for all eternity. 
 
4 Cfte %tal of J^ellag 
 
 Oh, say not nay, my king. Thy sovereign will 
 Might free these souls and send away in glee 
 To their own kingdom, far from Cretan hill, 
 In all the glorious pulchritude of youth. 
 Doth all depend on that Athenian boy? 
 Then he shall slay the monster, and, forsooth. 
 The dark ship seen no more in deed and truth, 
 While free as air all shout their rapturous joy. 
 
 In younger days famed was thy rectitude ; 
 When meeting far-famed Nisus in the war. 
 Short shrift had famous Scylla, when the scar 
 Of his shorn locks showed action wrong and 
 
 rude, 
 Resultant in his death. 'Twas understood 
 That even this nor checked her speech and tone 
 Of loud complaint ; by all the people known. 
 Her love for wise King Minos, him alone, — 
 " Our Minos, King of Crete, the great and 
 
 good!" 
 But never quite resolved, our wonder grew 
 Of why thy deep reserve in kingly mood. 
 But long ere this we learned it was the right 
 Alone should triumph, and that wrong should 
 
 cease. 
 And hence no speech with her who failed to see 
 The difference in the medium. Ah me ! 
 That now I still must plead for right, and sue 
 For those seven lives ; yet thou, O king, art true ! 
 
Cf)e Seal of ^ella0 
 
 Ariadne's doubt is changed to joy. 
 
 father, is it done? This royal ring 
 
 Now placed within my hand! What doth it 
 
 bode 
 But with swift footsteps I must seek the road 
 To caves of Daedalus on nightbird's wing 
 Now to the four winds we may doub tings fling? 
 This gives our nation now the right to sing 
 The grand Te Deum of a heavenly code 
 In Hellas where the gods have their abode. 
 My noble father has resolved the vow 
 To one of right, — to set the captives free ; 
 And that black barque, through deed of roy- 
 alty. 
 Shall sail away in rapture soon, I know. 
 Though by that dreadful deed of cruel war 
 The king's own son must slay the Minotaur ! 
 
 King Minos 
 Now heaven be praised, my daughter. I may 
 
 yield to thee, 
 For thou, so persevering in thy plea. 
 Hast made me debtor. Now and evermore, — 
 While nations urge their wars on every shore, — 
 Thy voice, like music, grave, intense and low, 
 
 1 hear, — no other in its overflow. 
 
 A courier hastening from Athenian king 
 Sought audience hastily, as on the wing, 
 
6 Ci)e ^eal of fellas 
 
 In state and pomp up through our own fair 
 
 bay, 
 Before the day's advance is on the way 
 To some high feast portentous, where the hour 
 Seemed all important in his lordly power ; 
 
 He brought a letter that was signed and sealed 
 By ^geus himself, in state revealed. 
 Which seal I would not break until my word 
 Had passed with thee, my daughter, nor de- 
 ferred 
 Thy wondrous plea, lest haply I should fail 
 To see with thine own eyes the woe, the wail 
 Of sorrow that demands of thrones and kings 
 Unthinking, what such devastation brings, 
 As in the ages past that lift afar 
 Their bloody banner o'er the fields of war. 
 
 Here is the letter sealed with the king's seal. 
 
 KING ;egeus' message 
 
 " To Minos, King of Crete, the war's demand 
 In toll of lives. The ship by Theseus manned 
 Is on its way, clad in the garb of woe, 
 To fill the precept of the long ago, — 
 ' Seven men and maidens of the nobles bom ! ' 
 My only son, Prince Theseus, — anguish torn, — 
 Should he not slay the monster, haply then 
 Shall die beside the pale of maids and men ; 
 
Cfie @)eal of ^ella$ 
 
 He goes with hope elate their doom to save, 
 Or else to find in Cretan land a grave." 
 
 Ariadne 
 And doth he come so soon? father mine, 
 Our simple tastes plebeian may not shine 
 With royal lustre, yet his mind, so tense 
 With others' pain, may find its recompense 
 In his own noble deed. O father, pray 
 That he may never give that life away; 
 'Twould seem, then, not by battles bravely won. 
 But by thine own demand, the cruel deed were 
 
 done. 
 
 King Minos 
 Be comforted, my daughter, here is more, — 
 Something, the while, I had not read before. 
 
 ^reads^ 
 " He loves thy daughter. Should this wound 
 
 be healed 
 And this strange war's demand be soon re- 
 pealed 
 Which ceaseth not with battles lost or won, 
 Then might thy daughter wed my only son ! " 
 
 Thy vivid blush, my Ariadne, tells 
 
 The story of your love. 'Tis no surprise.? 
 
 Ariadne 
 Nay, father, I had read the secret, fain 
 To find it true, but doubtful of my worth. 
 
8 Cfte ©eal of J^ella^ 
 
 And doubtful more of thy consent, my liege, 
 In this strange circumstance of warring lands, 
 And of that dreadful league that costs the lives 
 Of men and maids all innocent of wrong. 
 
 King Minos 
 My gratitude to thee that, ere the plea 
 From alien land came to our royal ken, 
 For thy brave pleading I had given the seal 
 That bound me to my vow. Oh, keep it safe 
 And treasure it through all the years of life. 
 Theseus will slay the monster, never fear; 
 E'en should it prove to be the incarnate fiend 
 Who makes war possible in sister lands. 
 His bravery will conquer in the end. 
 
 Make haste then, Ariadne, to refer 
 
 All household matters to their proper sphere. 
 
 Tell Phasdra and all the men and maids 
 
 The golden chariot must be released. 
 
 Kept but for kings and worthy conquerors. 
 
 And royal welcome given. A glorious feast 
 
 At which the doubting hearts, — the double 
 
 seven 
 Who waited, sad, till now for doom of death, — 
 Shall all partake, and never weep again. 
 
 Answer, my Ariadne. This thy wish.^^ 
 
 If not, speak now. To thee I gave the ring, 
 
Cfie ©eal of ^ellag 9 
 
 And to no other. Thine to claim this day 
 All that a father's love can do to heal 
 The hurt that marred thy childhood, — all un- 
 known 
 To me, unthinking and unheeding in the past, — 
 But never, never more, my sweetest child. 
 For thou hast filled my heart with tender- 
 ness 
 For all things human, and my greater age 
 With force of purpose. So say now the word : 
 Shall pomp be master — such as in our way 
 We may be able to display .^^ Or shall it be 
 In keeping with the deep thought of the 
 
 hour, — 
 Subdued and grave, but earnest as the time? 
 
 Ariadne 
 I think the latter way by far the best 
 Until the populace can follow on 
 In thought the long procession, for the dirge 
 That sent its strange, sad tones across the lea 
 Has scarce ceased sounding. Then, when day 
 
 is done 
 Our prince shall scale the rocky barrier and de- 
 scend. 
 While I wait in the tower the whole night 
 
 through ; 
 And then, when morning beams and he returns 
 In panoply of glory, then the pomp and glee. 
 
10 Cl)e @eal of J^ellag 
 
 And then the chariots of gold for all will be 
 Of one glad mind on ocean as on sea. 
 
 King Minos 
 Even so, my daughter, all shall surely be 
 To thy desire and mine, — a royal line. 
 By this same hour to-morrow's pageantry 
 Shall make good showing which the world may 
 
 see, — 
 Our unused chariots and our martial hosts ; 
 Each man of Crete must be beside his post 
 And give most signal honors to the son 
 Of our old enemy, by Ariadne won ! 
 
 But list, my daughter? There are foes to face 
 In our own households ; let not Phaedra hear 
 Whilst thou art sought by princes who give 
 
 heed 
 To thy rare charms and to thy wondrous deed. 
 
€^bt ©eal of ^tlla^ ii 
 
 THE MEETING 
 
 Two serving women of the household of King 
 Minos of Crete, — Zara and Vera, companions 
 of the princesses, — are watching from the gate 
 of the palace in the early morning. 
 
 Zara 
 
 A ship sails into the bay, 
 
 Its dark sails streaming free, 
 
 And the sad-eyed crew are listlessly 
 
 Awaiting the coming day. 
 
 There; shade your eyes and see 
 
 The twofold mystery, — 
 
 How with eyes averted and faces wan 
 They are battling that Cretan sea. 
 
 Hand seems to be clasping hand. 
 
 And their moans sound over the lea. 
 But I saw a nobleman suddenly 
 
 Leap up and take command. 
 
 Vera 
 
 'Tis the brave Athenian prince, they say, 
 Who vowed if Heaven gave him life and breath, 
 He would sail away on the ship of death, 
 
 Or the hated monster slay. 
 
12 Cfte @eal of J^ellas 
 
 Zara 
 Yes, Princess Phaedra has told me all, 
 
 But she thinks it just and right, 
 For the law is the law, and the tribute paid 
 
 Is the law in Zeus' sight. 
 
 But she said with a frown she would never go 
 To the tower with the shouting throng; 
 
 She could see them later climb the hill 
 With cymbal and march and song. 
 
 Vera 
 But he shall be our deliverer 
 
 Who comes to our nation's aid 
 ('Tis said by those who cannot err 
 
 That he loves our gentle maid). 
 
 My beautiful Ariadne wept 
 
 When the ship with the black sails came ; 
 But I calmed and soothed her ere she slept 
 
 By breathing low a name. 
 
 Then she said to me in broken voice. 
 
 And a quiver in every nerve, 
 " There is one who has cast with them^ his choice 
 
 And his nation he will serve. 
 
 " And whatever the fate of that somber ship 
 In the light of their coming dreads 
 
 Not a soul of them all by spur or whip 
 To the Minotaur shall he fed.'* 
 
Cfte ©eal of J^ella^ is 
 
 But here is my lady with cheek of rose, 
 
 And a smile of love's delight; 
 She will meet her warrior ere he goes 
 
 Forth into the realms of night. 
 
 Ariadne to Theseus after their first greeting 
 at the landing, where she has hastened with her 
 two maids to meet him before the royal honors 
 are likely to he in progress. Zara and Vera 
 have stepped aside, yet are interested in their 
 calm meeting, 
 
 Ariadne 
 Greetings, my noble lord ! 
 Prince Theseus, the adored 
 By all the heroes and all the gods 
 Who watch the devious way 
 Of mortals when passions play : 
 My father is waiting to say 
 The glad word of welcome to-day. 
 
 The law's demand has to be complied with. 
 Theseus will go to the Labyrinth in the dead of 
 night. The populace begvn to clamor and to 
 take note of the prince on the crowded way to 
 the palace of King Minos. 
 
 Populace 
 Ah, there he comes ! Her king in all but 
 name, — 
 
14 Ci)e @eal of fellas 
 
 Her Theseus brave. A manly flush of pride 
 Doth greet his princess and his promised bride. 
 The watching waiting^naids, their cheeks aflame, 
 See romance in the winds, and breathe the name 
 Beneath their breath. See, closely to his side 
 Brave Theseus holds her, — her, his winsome 
 
 guide 
 To that great darksome cave of deadly fame. 
 O'er the black ship the wave of hope runs high. 
 For doth not their deliverer come nigh? 
 Although as yet the mandate is not known. 
 Save that the king's son may his strength ex- 
 pend 
 Upon the Thing that snatches friend from 
 
 friend ; 
 And if he conquers, then the happy end. 
 
 Make way for Princess Ariadne, peers 
 And lovers all, for hours are almost years. 
 If day should pass into the caves of night, 
 And naught accomplished in that strenuous 
 
 fight. 
 Why the dark ship might still have to be clad 
 In somberest garb, its waiting people sad. 
 Its music somber, still, — a dirge of woe 
 By Memnon uttered in pain's overflow. 
 Now she must have more speech with him alone 
 To guide his wavering steps o'er paths of stone. 
 The ring, the ring! with silken wristlet strong. 
 To bring him back to us, not over long. 
 
Cfte @eal of J^ella^ 15 
 
 From out the damp and dank of Pluto's throne 
 With added pomp and glory round him thrown. 
 
 Some of the passengers of the doomed ship 
 pass with Mm across the bridge, which might, 
 indeed, be the bridge of despair except for the 
 hope of Theseus* prowess, which has been so 
 signally blessed to his country on other occa- 
 sions. Did they know of Ariadne* s plea with her 
 father, they would see even more cau^e for hope. 
 
 When it becomes known that Theseus is 
 about to descend the slope that leads to the 
 structure built by Dcedalus, very many of the 
 servants and dependents of the palace and 
 their friends are found waiting to go as far as 
 possible along with them; but it is understood 
 that the warrior Theseus, clad in his coat of 
 Tnail, with his weapons, is the only one who can 
 enter the cave except that Ariadne, his promised 
 bride, may remaim in the high tower and be the 
 first one to greet him when the rays of the 
 morning sun appear above the horizon. The 
 little procession seems to have been joined by 
 some of the Muses, daughters of song. The 
 strains of their melody echo among the evening 
 hills. 
 
 SONG 
 Chanted on the way to the tower, the voices 
 having been changed by hope from the strains 
 
16 CJ)e ©eal of ^ellag 
 
 of a dirge to a plaintive melody. Mingled with 
 the melody may he heard a plea in the words of 
 the song that Prince Theseus shall not place him- 
 self in danger^ — shall not go out in the night. 
 Their lives depend on his great prowess, hut 
 they heg him to wait for the light of day hefore 
 he penetrates the labyrinth. They are aston- 
 ished to hear heavenly voices joining them, as if 
 the god Dionysus led them on in the great effort 
 to right a national wrong. 
 
 Oh, not in the darkness, 
 
 Not in the gloom, — 
 The night's mystic terrors 
 
 Might lead to thy doom. 
 
 Oh, wait for the morning. 
 
 Wait for the day 
 The dark pile adorning ; 
 
 Then hasten away. 
 
 'Tis Hades' endeavor 
 
 Thy credence to gain, 
 All earth ties to sever 
 
 In bloodshed and pain. 
 
 The choirs of the angels 
 Have joined in the plan 
 
 For the glory of nations. 
 The honor of man. 
 
Cfte Seal of J^ella^ 17 
 
 ARIADNE AND THESEUS AT THE 
 LABYRINTH 
 
 Ariadne sings while waiting alone in the tower 
 of the labyrinth for the return of Theseus. 
 
 SONG 
 
 O heart, no longer alone, 
 
 The night has luminous grown ; 
 
 But not with the flash of the sun 
 On those walls of stone. 
 
 But the beat of a pulse and a rojal ring. 
 
 The ring is the crimson seal. 
 And it means a vow's repeal. 
 
 Where the vow meant the toll of lives 
 That hearts must feel 
 
 With bitter and deadliest sting. 
 
 Through the ring a silken thread 
 Woven with fear and dread 
 
 Lest its strength might be, ah me ! 
 But that of a cobweb spread 
 
 Over the perilous way. 
 
 On my wrist the silken band, 
 
 Held by many a strand ; 
 
 A twin-strand held by his strong right hand 
 
18 Ci)e S)eal of r^ellas 
 
 Shall lead to the midnight land, 
 And back again to the day. 
 
 And what though the goal he seeks 
 To the soul of the woman speaks ; 
 Though he slay, or not, the creature that terri- 
 bly reeks 
 Of the blood of the martyred band, 
 
 Yet the vow will no longer hold ; 
 The tale of the years is told, 
 And banished by strong desire of Crete and 
 Athenian wold, 
 Never, never to menace again. 
 
 Oh, the night has been long and drear. 
 But the gleams of the morn appear. 
 
 And the path so bright — 
 
 From that radiant, upper height 
 
 Is peopled with forms of light. 
 
 I know he is safe, my brave. 
 As he springs over wall and cave. 
 For the silken circlet bent, and its dangerous 
 signal gave 
 In a fiercer shock and strain. 
 
 One strand will my Theseus bring 
 His weapon still quivering 
 
 With the force he welded to grapple the cursed 
 Thing 
 That has held our meed of pain. 
 
Cfte §)eal of J^ellag 19 
 
 The dark ship waits in the bay 
 While its trembling victims pray, 
 And wait with anguished hearts for the coming 
 day 
 And for sunlight to leap o'er the plain. 
 
 The ring with its strange, dark seal, 
 
 Besought for my nation's weal. 
 
 Might bid them see how the heart of a king 
 
 might feel 
 In his old-time vow's repeal. 
 
 Ah, I can hear him now from afar ! 
 
 He has slain the Minotaur ! 
 
 Has he seen at a glance this blood-red scar? 
 
 Yes ; and has peldged his faith to me 
 
 Once more, for my constancy. 
 
 The guards of the palace rave 
 For Theseus the brave ; 
 
 The black ship empties its cargo of souls over 
 shore and wave. 
 And shout in their ecstasy : 
 
 " King Minos has made us free ; 
 
 To him we will bend the knee. 
 
 One trumpet blast for the Prince of Chivalry 
 
 And one for his bride to be ! " 
 
20 Cfte %ml of l^ella0 
 
 ARIADNE'S RETURN FROM THE 
 LABYRINTH 
 
 Ariadne 
 
 My father and my king, hail and farewell ! 
 Theseus returns, and all the populace 
 Are wild with clamor. All the open space 
 Before the palace gates with plaudits swell. 
 They saw my wounded arm and wished it well. 
 And this same ring that held the cord in place, 
 Encircled wrist and sped him in his race, 
 Cut hard into the flesh with every blow that fell 
 Upon the foes which in that darkness dwell. 
 Make haste the nuptials ; call the maids and men 
 From the sad ship, and bid them smile again. 
 My Theseus has paid the tolls of war ; 
 Has trod the wine-press, but without a groan. 
 Thy daughter stood the whole night through 
 
 alone. 
 And knew when he had slain the Minotaur. 
 
 The pledge thou gavest me, my sovereign king, 
 Has been my guerdon. See the silken thread.? 
 How in my lonely vigil I could dread 
 The moment that his javelin should fling 
 Each quickening strain lest evil should bestead. 
 How well I gauged it, lengthening ells on ells, 
 
Clje ^eal of l^ellas 21 
 
 E'en to the chasm where the monster dwells, 
 While every strain that tore the flesh apart 
 Sent its swift message to my quivering heart. 
 Now I must have some speech with him alone 
 Who comes, a conqueror, to thy worthy throne, 
 And he a lordly king's son deified, 
 Myself his servant, yet his promised bride. 
 My flesh is scarred by the all-quickening cord, 
 But what care I so that it saved my lord ! 
 
 What aileth Phaedra, father.? She withstood 
 The plaudits for the brave and worshipful. 
 And kept her chamber. Is she weak or ill.-^ 
 You say she would not like to see me wed.? 
 Then think you she would rather see me dead.? 
 For as the sun shines and the rivers flow. 
 When that fleet sails, thy child shall with them 
 go. 
 
22 Cfte Seal of fellas 
 
 ARIADNE'S DEPARTURE 
 
 The two maids, weeping, follow her to the 
 vesseVs side and stand as far out on the shore 
 as possible to get the last glimpse of the prin- 
 cess. Their voices, chanting, mingle with the 
 waves, 
 
 O my sweet princess, stay ! 
 
 Go not alone ! 
 Let us upon thy bridal day 
 Send wishes one and two and three 
 That thou a happy bride may be, 
 
 Upon thy throne. 
 
 Phcedra does not appear among the others^ 
 yet it seems to he known to some that she is 
 watching the departure of the vessel from an- 
 other poimt. The strains of a beautiful, weird 
 melody come floating on the evening air, min- 
 gled with the sound of the waves and melodies 
 in the air that are from more than human voices. 
 
 SONG 
 
 Prince Theseus came our land to save, — 
 
 Our Hellas hills. 
 
 Its streams and rills. 
 Free from the horrid curse of war, 
 
Cfje Seal of J^ena0 23 
 
 Of monster and of Minotaur, 
 And of misfortune's cruel scar. 
 
 O Hellas land, 
 
 Our Hellas land. 
 Our gladsome song floats o'er the wave. 
 
 The chance to live our lives ; to save 
 
 Our Hellas hills 
 
 Where beauty fills 
 The spaces that Heaven's wisdom gave. 
 He bade the airs of gladness lave 
 The statue and the temple nave. 
 
 Our Hellas land, 
 
 Our beauteous land ! 
 He found a bride and not a grave. 
 
 The air was filled from sea to sea, 
 
 O Hellas land. 
 
 Our beauteous land. 
 With Memnon's sacred minstrelsy; 
 The daughters of Mnemosyne 
 On floating wing came down to sing 
 The strains of worthy chivalry. 
 
 O Hellas hills, 
 
 Our streams and rills! 
 God bless the beauteous bride-to-be. 
 
24 Cfte §)eal of J^ellag 
 
 ARIADNEi AND THESEUS 
 
 On sailvng away from Crete. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Stand close, my Theseus. Let the concourse 
 
 see 
 Our mutual love, as, passing from their ken, 
 We take our rapid way, unknowing when 
 The shores of Crete again our goal shall be. 
 Oh, there my father! High o'er all the rest, 
 The robes of office falling o'er his breast; 
 To my sad eyes that crown of soft white hair 
 In pathos speaks. His thoughts I cannot 
 
 share. 
 
 Were we too hasty? Doth his spirit know 
 
 How much I missed his blessing, and the flow 
 
 Of gladsome cheer, of wedding bells, and all 
 
 The joyous episode of bridal hall? 
 
 But in Athena's court, or soon or late. 
 
 The glad occasion she will celebrate 
 
 With mirth and dance and with Mnemosyne's 
 
 song 
 In very truth, nor wait we over long. 
 
 Ariadne remembers that King Mgeus had 
 asked to have the sails changed to white if they 
 were victorious. 
 
Cfte g)eal of J^ella0 25 
 
 Ariadne 
 O Theseus, are thy sailors well in hand? 
 All those black pennons spread and flowing free 
 Were to be changed to white of victory 
 So that the king, your sire, might take his stand 
 On some fair height Olympian ere you land ; 
 And long before a carrier bird could flee, 
 He might rejoice the pennant white to see. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 [frowning^ 
 Let not my Cretan maiden seem to own 
 Both me and mine ! My father would bespeak 
 We come without display. The king will own 
 Our prowess earned when high from tower and 
 
 mast 
 He sees the pennant flying in the blast. 
 
 We'll tell the story to his listening ear 
 Of Minotaur and labyrinth and ring. 
 That safe and scatheless we were led to bring 
 Dear honor to both kingdoms, and to hear 
 The people's plaudits in the court that day 
 When midst the crowd we two were led away. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And did thy " Cretan maid " do naught at all.^ 
 What boots it that thy warrior blood should 
 
 call 
 On Heaven to witness deeds that so appall.? 
 
26 Cfte Seal of l^ellag 
 
 The loins of earth are filled with man and beast 
 That thirst for blood. 'Tis Hades' feast — 
 Red blood of victims. I could love the heart 
 Deep knit with tenderness, its nobler part. 
 But honors should be shared, to say the least, 
 Before the hidden helper feels the smart. 
 
 Theseus 
 Yes, yes, sweet Ariadne; I must say 
 Thy part was well accomplished in the fray, 
 And thou wert blessed in making no demur 
 At our bright hour of triumph, nor defer 
 The hour of sailing by such foolish fears 
 As might have held a menial till he hears 
 Some incantation of the waiting priest 
 Before the gods will countenance the feast. 
 So cheer and cheer again. The ship makes way. 
 So lift the wounded arm and I will say 
 All that the bard could wish of roundelay. 
 Oh, ne'er can I forget that bright red scar 
 That bears the mark of that heroic war ; 
 If age on age should pass, it would be told, — 
 Had not the silken thread the strength be- 
 stowed. 
 Brave Theseus ne'er had slain the Minotaur ! 
 
 Ariadne 
 With these fond words we hide ambitious hopes 
 In sweet content ; then let us idly stand. 
 Hand clasped in hand, and watch Athenian land 
 
C{)e ©eal of Bellas 27 
 
 Sail into view, and all the templed slopes ; 
 There towers Athena's statue, hid by our ropes 
 That hold the crisscross rigging, where it 
 
 stands ! 
 Out flows our pennon now as if the good 
 Of all the centuries had understood 
 
 And blossomed out as the new freedom ope's. 
 
 But, lo, a stately figure stands alone 
 
 Upon a height Parnassian, with eye 
 
 Looking far outward that he may descry 
 
 What may be signs of loss or victory. 
 
 Oh, can it be ^geus, fain to see 
 
 The snow white signals spread and shoreward 
 
 blown ? 
 But black as midnight ! Ah the tragedy 
 This memory's lapse, long ages must atone; 
 He needs must think his son among the slain. 
 O Theseus, why were not my warnings ta'en? 
 
 Theseus 
 [strangely heedless'] 
 It is the king, my father. He will be 
 The very first to greet my bride and me. 
 
 Suddenly speech is made impossible, for they 
 catch sight of the king leaning over the bank of 
 the great chasm. He totters, yet seems to mock 
 at danger. Ariadne swoons and knows no 
 more until in the palace hall King jiEgeus lies 
 
28 Cfte ©eat of ^ellasi 
 
 i/n state, a vanquished thing , and shouts are 
 heard, " The king is dead. Long live the king/* 
 Ariadne shrinks from them all. At once the 
 people throng to the palace, — friends and sol- 
 diers of the dead king come to do him honor 
 and to welcome their great prince, Theseus, 
 now king, standing erect in the midst of the 
 royal court. 
 
 Ariadne 
 While like a very god King Theseus stands se- 
 rene, 
 Yet have they not called Ariadne " Queen " ! 
 
Cfie @)eal of ^ellag 29 
 
 ARIADNE AND THESEUS AT ATHENS 
 
 Ariadne 
 
 Be patient with me, Theseus, till the mood 
 Shall pass like sunshine o'er the summer plain 
 And I shall be thy loyal bride again, 
 No single strain to blight our mutual good. 
 Both brave and wise, my scruples understood, 
 Thou sayst, " Nostalgia," but to me it seems 
 The outcome of those realistic dreams, — 
 The horror visualized, that rock endued 
 With all the Erynnes by fate subdued. 
 Thy father's face, my Theseus, when it lay 
 Upon the royal pillow, gaunt and wan. 
 From its earth home the conscious spirit gone. 
 Its grave, white profile in the marbled clay, — 
 Whene'er in palace hall or when alone 
 'Tis not his features, but my father's own ! 
 
 To my dim thought it changes day by day ; 
 
 I see his brow thought-lined, his locks of 
 
 grey,— 
 Each feature of my father sadder grown. 
 As if the fates that took his eldest born. 
 And then his youngest, seemed in evil league 
 To rob him of his all by some intrigue. 
 
30 Cfie Seal of l^ellag 
 
 So, Theseus, my one desire shall be to see 
 
 Our sail swift speeding over Cretan sea. 
 
 This lordly Athens with its schools of thought. 
 
 Its palaces and statues, lofty domes, — 
 
 All but another name for martyrdom. 
 
 I could have loved Athena were't not shown 
 
 I was but handmaid queen, without a throne 
 
 Except the throne of Mind. 'Tis but a foreign 
 
 zone 
 To such as know it not. Thou mightst have 
 
 sought 
 To lead me to my peers, but did it not ! 
 
 My Cretan home was plain but love bedight. 
 The very flowers along my garden free, 
 So fain to show me all their summer glee, 
 Did naught but minister to my delight ; 
 One slender vine crept upward in the night, 
 And sought my chamber, strangely found a way 
 To gain a crevice, and what would one say ; 
 It sent a tendril searching for the light. 
 It seemed to be the mind within the vine 
 That sought and sought until it found a spot, 
 A little wooden pin to hold and twine 
 In sweet contentment with such happy lot. 
 And thus it grew in beauty, lovely, rare. 
 Each tendril strengthened by such human care. 
 
 So let us just once more speed swiftly o'er 
 That Cretan sea, and when I once can gain 
 
Cfie Seal of fellas 3i 
 
 A father's blessing, I shall speed full fain 
 Back to thine arms, never to leave thee more. 
 Thou sayst by way of Naxos ? Well, agreed. 
 There good god Pan will love the sens ate vine, 
 And Bacchus with his helpers brave agree 
 To twine thy frowning brow with eglantine. 
 And bring my fervent lover back to me 
 In all the beauty of his charm divine. 
 Without disturbing thought of thine or mine ! 
 
BOOK THE SECOND 
 
VENUS, BACCHUS AND ARIADNE 
 IN NAXOS 
 
 Venus 
 Thou art the sovereign god of this dear isle, 
 O friend, forever patient, ever true. 
 Holding me ever blameless even when through 
 Some nature weakness I forget the while 
 The honor due a god. No mortal guile 
 Immortal nature hampers. Lips may woo, 
 Like Dionysus chaste, while Bacchus drew 
 The wine of life to dregs with raptured smile. 
 Now I've a secret plan, my sovereign liege. 
 And wish a god to j oin me. 'Tis for weal 
 And not for woe, unless the stupid heel 
 Of black misfortune crush, and both besiege. 
 Hear you not Echo.'' We will heed the cries 
 That mock the bank where Ariadne lies. 
 
 Yes, beauteous Ariadne, Athen's queen, — 
 
 Or would be if false Phaedra had not crept. 
 
 Like slimy snake, when woman's wisdom slept, 
 
 And left the way with false Erynnes strewn. 
 
 Although King Minos not averse had been 
 
 To this new son who Hellas' honor kept. 
 
 False Phaedra saw two thrones in view, and wept 
 35 
 
36 Cfte ©eal of l^ellag 
 
 On Minos' breast. He yielded. Moments 
 
 swiftly sped; 
 They let the angel Ariadne go unwed, 
 With promise of the morrow intersped. 
 Her wretched plight has brought me hastening 
 
 here, 
 And yet a god's indulgence bids me fear 
 To do this favor, thus your praise to gain 
 And hers, when she has held her meed of pain. 
 
 Bacchus 
 A gentle dove, rain-drenched and torn by life's 
 perplexities. 
 
 Venus 
 Demanding nothing and receiving less. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Yet Hellas she has saved from ignomin^^ 
 And Theseus from defeat, by hidden powers. 
 
 Venus 
 I found on the beach a fold of papyrus. Please 
 read the few words. It might throw light on 
 this mystery. 
 
 Bacchus 
 
 It seems to be signed, " Theseus, King." That 
 is enough. Let it go to the Theseum and be 
 buried with him. 
 
Cl)e ®eal of ^ella0 37 
 
 Venus 
 He will marry Phaedra. She will match her 
 steel against his thunderbolts. 
 
 Bacchus 
 And both gods and mortals suffer in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 Venus 
 Theseus thought Minerva met him in the way 
 and gave him warning. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Only his excuse to his own conscience. 
 
 Venus 
 We both know that Minerva, or, better, our 
 own Athena, is ever above deceit. 
 
 Bacchus 
 And we know, too. Aphrodite, that the warrior 
 soul has sometimes to be driven into the depths 
 before he can comprehend life. 
 
 Venus 
 She wakes ! She wakes ! Pray, Bacchus, dis- 
 appear 
 Till Eros calls from sleep, then come again. 
 Come not a moment sooner. I must stay 
 Upon the shore, and with her spend the night 
 And try to soothe her grief. When morning 
 comes, 
 
38 Cl)e Seal of ^ella^ 
 
 Return, but keep thyself in shadow 'neath the 
 
 palms. 
 She starts ; she sighs ; she speaks ; and Echo 
 
 mocks. 
 Bid Echo cease her clamor; 'tis poor time 
 To shout Narcissean woe. Make haste and go I 
 
 Aeiadne 
 \_a'waMng'] 
 Where are my sailors? Where? 
 
 Echo 
 Where? 
 
 Ariadne 
 King Theseus gone? 
 
 Echo 
 Gone ! 
 
 Ariadne 
 To return no more? 
 
 Echo 
 No more ! 
 
 Ariadne 
 
 Am I alone between mountain and sea? 
 
 Echo 
 Mountain and sea. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Alone ? 
 
Cfie Seal ot J^ella^ 39 
 
 Echo 
 Alone ! 
 
 Venus 
 Nay, not alone, sweet maid, for I shall stay 
 with thee. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Thou art beautiful. A light of kindness in 
 
 thine eyes. 
 I know thee not, yet would wish to know thee. 
 
 Venus 
 I am Venus to the world, but to Ariadne I am 
 Dione. That was my mother's name, but the 
 poets of Hellas have given me that name. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I love thee, Dione. 
 
 Dione 
 Come with me to the gardens of the vines, and 
 rest. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Thou art a goddess. How can one who does 
 not know mortal pain, comprehend the meaning 
 of pain? 
 
 Dione 
 By the ministry of love. 
 
40 C|)e @)eal of ^ella0 
 
 Ariadne 
 Then it is this which has calmed me. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 I will soothe thee in mine arms until sleep 
 touches thine eyelids. 
 
 Ariadne 
 But, alas ! only to wake again to sorrow. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 I will give thee an immortal lover. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Speak not to me of love. 
 
 Dione 
 I know all, and I know that the gods love thee 
 for thy sweet humanity, and that they have 
 thee in their keeping. 
 
 In the very earliest morning , while the dew is 
 still on the flowers , Venus makes herself invisi- 
 ble to the resting Ariadne, first, however, plac- 
 ing luscious tropical fruits where they will at- 
 tract her eye and her palate; then summoning 
 the nymph Thalia to watch over Ariadne until 
 she awakes, she sends Eros as her messenger to 
 the vine embowered gardens of Bacchus (Diony- 
 sus), but he has anticipated her and is already 
 on his way to the portion of the island which in 
 
Cfie ©eal of i^ella^ 4i 
 
 his dreams he has never left since having seen 
 the beautiful sleeping Ariadne the evening he- 
 fore. As the two friends, Venus and Bacchus, 
 come near, both step into the shadow, for Ari- 
 adne is leaning upon a rock that looks towards 
 her Cretan home. But what is that tone of ex- 
 quisite music of measured xvords that mingles 
 with wave and zephyr, and comes floating up 
 to their ears in harmonious strains of deepest 
 feelvngf Ariadne sings or chants in sad mono- 
 tone: 
 
 THE OCEAN 
 O soul of mine, this drear immensity ! 
 Such surge and swell of wave against the shore 
 In majesty of motion, leaping o'er 
 The billowy barriers far as eye can see. 
 Then the horizon's edge, where sky and sea, 
 Commingling, seek that undulating floor, 
 With glint of glacier struck from arctic store. 
 And far white sail like wing of destiny. 
 
 That distant bird which floats 'twixt wave and 
 
 dune 
 Knows naught of fear, nor yet the sea's behest, 
 But circles, soars, and dips to ocean's rune; 
 I, humanly, would seek some sheltering breast 
 To this strange longing of the sea immune. 
 Lest lured by Triton spell beneath the crest. 
 
42 CJ)e ©eal of ^ellag 
 
 Venus and Bacchus wait in the background, 
 Bacchus 
 The power of her language thrills mj soul. 
 
 Venus 
 And its tenderness. 
 
 Bacchus 
 And her exceeding beauty. 
 
 Venus 
 Her grief is not for the loss of a throne. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Theseus should have said to his Athenians, 
 " Here is your queen! " 
 
 Venus 
 They would have followed like sheep their 
 leader. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Those words of hers to the ocean have the very 
 sound of the wave and the color of the seashell. 
 Athena shall have them transcribed in letters 
 of gold for the temple. 
 
 Venus 
 With a word from you, Athena will do this. 
 She is the patroness of all arts. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Shall we make ourselves known.? 
 
Cl)e ©eal of ^ella0 43 
 
 Venus 
 By all means. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Please go before me, Aphrodite. She has 
 grown familiar with you. 
 
 Venus 
 To her, then, you shall be Dionysus. That 
 name represents your graver side. The name 
 Bacchus is for the merrier side of the god Na- 
 ture, and the one by which Venus knows you 
 best. 
 
 Bacchus 
 
 my sweet Aphrodite, you are the most hu- 
 manly natural goddess that the earth boasts. 
 No wonder that you are loved by gods and men. 
 
 1 can well see how Adonis has been permitted 
 to come again in the season of flowers. 
 
 Venus 
 And yet your Aphrodite is as humanly imper- 
 fect. Willing to win the apple that Discordia 
 threw. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Meanwhile, Aphrodite, breathe into her soul the 
 airs of Nepenthe, that she may forget the past. 
 Should she, when the time is ripe, love me, she 
 shall win the crown with the seven stars, and 
 for my Venus herself, a gift from the sea, — the 
 
44 Cfte Seal of JJ)ella0 
 
 emerald from thy birthplace. Give heed. She 
 is coming back from the shore. 
 Ariadne approaches. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 Dost thou miss thy companion, sweet maid? 
 I will find thee an immortal lover. 
 
 Ariadne 
 
 Speak not to me of the love of man. Dost see 
 this wounded arm.'' 
 
 DiONE 
 
 No sorrow of love's making ever kills but by 
 love's breaking. This wound will heal itself. 
 
 Ariadne 
 My dear old father ! He may wonder why we 
 linger at Naxos. 
 
 Bacchus comes within the range of vision. 
 
 Venus 
 Here is the lord of the island, Dionysus, by 
 some called Bacchus. He shall send the shal- 
 lop of his thought to Crete and to thy father, 
 saying, " All's well ! " 
 
 Ariadne 
 Can he do this? How grateful I am. 
 
C6e ©eal of i|)eUa0 45 
 
 Dionysus 
 And thy thought shall take wings with mine, 
 fair maid, and thy sadness shall be no more. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And now the picture to my mind of my father 
 will be as I left him, and not the dead face of 
 ^geus, which I saw ever before me. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Yes, the noble features of the grand King Minos 
 of Crete. 
 
 Ariadne 
 This does my heart good. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Thou hast brought peace to other hearts. 
 Through all Hellas they are celebrating the 
 victory of right over wrong. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I am feeling strangely happy already, with a 
 deeper peace than I have known. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 Shall we go with Dionj^sus, my Ariadne, to see 
 his beautiful vines on the hillside, and all the 
 nymphs and maidens helping to gather the 
 fruit.? 
 
 Ariadne 
 Yes, and oh, the days must be so beautiful in 
 Naxos ! 
 
46 Cfte Seal of fellas: 
 
 DiONE 
 
 We will hear the songs of the maidens, chanted 
 while they gather the purple clusters of the 
 vineyards, and be as glad as the day is long. 
 Now I must give one word of admonition to my 
 Lord Bacchus. Dionysus is grave and recep- 
 tive, but when he has his other nature he is 
 equally a study. Not a nymph of the lot but 
 would lay down her life for him. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I cannot wonder at that. There seems to be an 
 intoxication in such intimacy with nature. 
 
Cfte ©eal of J^ella0 47 
 
 IN THE GARDEN OF THE VINE 
 
 Venus 
 \_to Bacchus~\ 
 Now a god's devious ways pursue 
 With little ostentation; 
 Train all the clinging tendrils through 
 Their strong supports. Both rust and rue 
 Crush out, and then take time to woo 
 A bride from Crete's fair nation. 
 
 But take thy time. We'll comfort her, 
 Each lonely hour beguiling; 
 By witchery of song defer 
 All pain upon the wing for her. 
 But pain, love's best interpreter, 
 May end at last in smiling. 
 
 Ariadne greatly enjoys these delightful meet- 
 ings in the grove of the garden of the vine. 
 This time the daughters of Mnemosyne are 
 present; they consider that no gathering of this 
 kind is perfect unless it has something of dan- 
 cing and song and recitation. On this special 
 occasion it is graced hy Demeter, and Per- 
 sephone y her beautiful daughter, restored to her 
 arms from her mysterious home, hut joyous as 
 the sunshine and entering into all the bright- 
 
48 Cfte Seal of IJ)elIas 
 
 ness of the occasion. The god Pan is also 
 there, hut more as a priest than a person, -for 
 he it is who influences the minds of the poets of 
 nature. 
 
 Venus reminds Lord Bacchus that as she will 
 he passing soon to the Athenian circles to meet 
 there with the assembly of the gods, she wishes 
 him to he willi/ng to read the words which were 
 written on the fold of papyrus. They pass on 
 to a retired portion of the garden, and there 
 decipher it together. She reads it aloud in 
 their retirement from the rest of the company. 
 
 Venus 
 [reads without comment~\ 
 
 " THESEUS AT THE ISLAND OF NAXOS 
 
 " She sleeps, she sleeps ; and on her brow 
 
 The peace of heaven reposes. 
 The saddened hours have left no trace ; 
 She must be of Hellenic race, 
 This Cretan maid of high born grace, — 
 
 Her cheeks would shame the roses. 
 
 " My Ariadne, couldst thou see 
 My heart through all promotion, 
 
 Thou wouldst be loth to think of me 
 
 As one who felt the witchery 
 
 Of other eyes than thine, — ah me ! 
 She knew not my devotion. 
 
Cfte Seal of ^eliag 49 
 
 " She saw Mnemosyne's nymphs at play 
 
 To win my smiles of greeting; 
 The king must sound the roundelay, 
 Must give the prizes fair away, 
 Must dance with sweet Terpsichore, 
 
 The other damsels meeting. 
 
 " She did not like the pomp and glare 
 
 She met at every turning, — 
 Athena's court and Clytie's stare. 
 Nor yet the constant din and blare 
 That met her there and everywhere 
 
 Of warrior steeds returning. 
 
 " vEgeus' death, a shock to nerves 
 
 Already tired and bleeding, 
 His haggard face in vision serves 
 To wound her spirit's sweet reserves, 
 To parallel in deeds and verves 
 
 Her year of interceding. 
 
 " And now she sleeps, the patient dove. 
 So brave through every danger. 
 
 As that dear wounded wrist may prove ; 
 
 I'll kiss it now that scar above 
 
 Where such harsh straining hurt my love, — 
 And — then — an island ranger. 
 
 " Oh, not the sea shall swallow me, 
 Nor yet the state's demanding. 
 
50 Ci)e Seal of ^ella^ 
 
 But just a little cruise and flee 
 Athenian outposts once to see; 
 Back here by daylight certainly, 
 With all the force commanding. 
 
 " Just one fond look, my Hebe sweet. 
 
 So hidden, yet revealing. 
 I'll kiss the little dimpled feet, 
 And once those roseleaf breasts, my sweet, 
 And those dear lips with love replete, — 
 
 So ripe and so appealing. 
 
 " And when the state has claimed my zeal. 
 
 And given me honors knightly. 
 My queen she'll be. My heart is leal. 
 Then swift returning, prow and keel. 
 Her chastened heart may gladly feel 
 
 The king returns contritely. 
 
 " And when, long ere all hopes are gone. 
 When evening stars are burning. 
 
 My Pirithous shall sail the sea 
 
 On wing of friendship's chivalry. 
 
 He'll not approve, but find will he 
 My chastened bride returning. 
 
 " The King." 
 
 Bacchus 
 She must not see it. She would be wounded to 
 
 the quick. 
 It sometimes seems that in each human soul 
 
C{)e Seal of |)ella0 51 
 
 Made ripe for greatness, honored of his kind, 
 There is an unknown country, — heaven and hell 
 In closest contiguity. 'Tis the god within 
 Points out the one, to the other bars the way. 
 
 Venus 
 He thought the lesson needful to subdue 
 A wife who held opinions of her own ; 
 But there is no reprieve in word or deed. 
 Two natures built on different moulds may 
 
 prove 
 A menace to the household gods of love, 
 Except for our mediation. We know all. 
 
 Bacchus 
 Yes, to our sorrow. No man is worthy of love 
 Who has not much of woman's tenderness. 
 
 Venus 
 
 Not often sorrow, sometimes our jay and rec- 
 ompense. 
 
 He thought Minerva met him in the way 
 
 And gave him warning. 
 
 Bacchus 
 
 It was his strange Nemesis that appeared. 
 
 He thought it was Athena? 'Twas Phaedra's 
 ghost. 
 
 The shade of her false spirit barred the way, 
 
 And tossed the black-robed ship on troubled 
 waves 
 
52 Cfte %ml of ^ella0 
 
 Of false opinion, hence the barrier 
 
 To priest and temple rites. But Heaven be 
 
 praised, 
 And thee, Dione. The goddess dwells in thee, 
 Sweet child of wave and foam and seashell 
 
 cheek ; 
 Thou bearest no env}^, e'en when in mortal mood 
 Such charms as hers appeal with strong desire 
 To make her all mine own without delay. 
 
 Venus 
 Nay, but a little space must intervene. 
 No true soul, god or mortal, but must wait 
 The love of morn when night has closed the 
 gate. 
 
 Bacchus 
 True, true, my Aphrodite. This dear name 
 Of early, homelike, fragrant woods and fields 
 I love because it has a touch of sweet caress. 
 
 Venus 
 Like my one name for thee, my constant friend. 
 With which thou dost allow me to relieve 
 The ice of cold formality, — name that the 
 
 nymphs forget, 
 Or else the name that others never knew. 
 Thou sayest well. No envy mars 
 Our sweet companionship. Among the stars 
 One breathes diviner odor. Passion's sway 
 Is but for mortal needs, not thine or mine. 
 
Cfie ^eal of J^ellag 53 
 
 I love thee, and shall call thee every name 
 
 As each one suits thy nature, — Bacchus first, 
 
 Then Dionysus, Brisseus, Friend ! 
 
 Beautiful in thy fresh, immortal youth, fire- 
 born. 
 
 Then hid in Jove's right arm till born again ; 
 
 Of super-mortal birth ; two natures blent in one. 
 
 And both dew-crowned. 
 
 'Tis I have promised thee 
 
 To this sweet child, though yet she knows it 
 not. 
 
 Bacchus 
 'Tis like thee, and to thy desires I yield. 
 And to mine own, sweet Venus, named Dione 
 In all the poetry of Hellas' clime. 
 
 While they are talJdng in the garden Iris 
 comes floating down on her rainbow path and 
 joins them, 
 
 THE BRIDGE OF IRIS 
 
 Who made the messenger from heaven to earth, 
 Sweet rainbow spirit in thy constancy. 
 And with prismatic colors wondrously 
 Didst weave thy pathway where the stars have 
 
 birth? 
 This shining way must be some bridge of worth ; 
 'Tis not the sorrowing path of spirits free 
 
54 C|)e ^eal of J^ellas 
 
 From mortal chains by wave of destiny, 
 Where spectres, anguish-wrung, are hastening 
 
 forth ; 
 But 'tis the pathway of the rainbow queen, — 
 Fair Iris, sailing in her silver boat. 
 Where all about her crimson cloudlets float 
 And fold her their encircling arms between ; 
 See where her shallop sinks the sea beside 
 Where eager Triton waits his promised bride ! 
 
C{)e ©eal of l^ella^ 55 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 Ariadne to her two friendly Dionysus and 
 VenuSy enclosing a flower found in the field. 
 
 " Oh, never doth the world hold day so dark, 
 But that some gleam behind the clouds of fate 
 Tells of a heaven beyond. O dear Dione, 
 The name poetic that our Hellas gives 
 To Goddess Venus when within their ken 
 She comes swift sailing from the sunset clouds 
 In her white chariot driven by beauteous doves, 
 How didst thou wander to the shore that day. 
 Dressed like the plainest mortal in disguise. 
 And find me weeping, friendless and alone, 
 Pouring my plaint on the unresponsive sea. 
 And cold to thy beloved friend and thee 
 Before the gracious influence of such warmth 
 Could penetrate my being, so surcharged, 
 So marred and outraged in its sensibilities. 
 But he and thou together caused the heavens to 
 
 ope. 
 And in the glad young brightness of the world 
 Forget the false estate of thrones and kings, 
 And bid me welcome to this glorious isle. 
 
56 Cfte §)eal of ^tlla$ 
 
 " In my walk with Thalia this morning I found 
 this beautiful flower of the island, which was 
 blooming alone and seeming to look down into 
 the stream at its feet. It must be beloved of 
 the god Pan. I send it by Thalia, root and 
 blossom, for the garden of Dionysus. 
 
 " Dear wayside flower 
 That wears the rosy blush of morn, 
 Like sunrise on the banks of snow. 
 Or shell tint in its pearly glow 
 Mid winter's sullen rigors born. 
 
 " The fostering winds 
 
 Erstwhile converted fleecy snows 
 To broidered robes of dainty hue 
 To view thy royal graces through. 
 
 Deep in thy winter-bought repose. 
 
 " Thou art our own, 
 The pride of all our eastern zone. 
 
 Whose lips have caught the sunset's flush. 
 Whose petals match the maiden's blush 
 When first her heart has found its own ! " 
 
Cfie ^eal of i^tlln^ 57 
 
 ARIADNE AND VENUS 
 
 Ariadne 
 Oh, what a royal company, Dione, — Pan and 
 Bacchus with their attendant nymphs. I seem 
 to be among the immortals. 
 
 Venus 
 Ariadne herself is one. 
 
 Ariadne 
 1? —" The little Cretan maid? " 
 
 Venus 
 The Queen of Song. It is never wise with mor- 
 tals to place a low valuation on one's power. 
 The gods have different standards. Ariadne's 
 plea with King Minos has been placed in letters 
 of gold in the Temple. 
 
 Ariadne 
 The gods be praised that " the Cretan maid " 
 has been justified in Athena's sight. 
 
 Venus 
 That, again, is the mortal's way of looking at 
 things. You shall love Athena. She is far too 
 upright to have sent any false message. Di- 
 
58 Cfte ^eal of ^ellag 
 
 onysus will assure you of that. The god in us 
 puts away all envy, all suspicion. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Hence it is the god-nature that we love. Was 
 this what my Dione meant when she said, " I will 
 bring thee an immortal lover " ^ 
 
 Venus 
 Yes. 
 
 Ariadne 
 But he loves you, Dione. 
 
 Venus 
 But not as mortal maid and lover, but as those 
 who live above desire, and who bend a listening 
 ear to the needs of mortals. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And do you think he may be with us before the 
 shadows fall? Oh, I hope I was not rude when 
 he spoke to us at the shore that day. 
 
 Venus 
 All variations of mood caused by the sensitive- 
 ness of the spirit, the gods alone can understand 
 and excuse. 
 
 Ariadne 
 My father Minos has the nature we so much ad- 
 mire, — so strong, so gentle and true. And 
 yet, Dione, I came away without his blessing. 
 
Cfte ©eal of J^ella^ 59 
 
 Venus 
 It has ever been your own. It has encircled 
 you. 
 
60 Cfte §)eal of fellas; 
 
 THE RETURN OF DIONE 
 
 Just before sunset the nymphs run to meet 
 Aphrodite, their hostess, who descends into their 
 midst in her dove-drawn chariot. To Ariadne 
 then she speaks aside. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 Come to the shore with me. 
 And you, Thalia, watch the evening star. 
 And when it flashes out mid sunset clouds. 
 Then join us. But, Ariadne dear, I need thee 
 
 now. 
 
 Ariadne 
 A goddess need a mortal? How surprising! 
 And yet 'tis mutual. We mortals need the gods. 
 But why this lustrous beauty? Every feature 
 
 shines 
 As if sun-kissed. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 Saw you not one within that chariot's space 
 Which others could not see ? — Adonis fair ; 
 Like sweet Persephone, he comes again 
 To greet me in the season of the flowers. 
 And thence away, but leaves an aureole. 
 
C6e Sseal of l^ellag 6i 
 
 Ariadne 
 I, too, have something that would please the 
 
 friend 
 Who found me stranded on the Naxion shore, 
 Whence Echo from the illimitable deep 
 Threw back her mocking answers. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 I know ! I know ! 
 
 And how our friend from that eventful day 
 Has loved thee. Thus my prophecies were true 
 That an immortal lover should be thine. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And yet so human, too, so comprehending; 
 No envy in the nature of a god. 
 He honored my poor halting plea for Crete, 
 Nor loved Prince Theseus less that he approved 
 it. 
 
 DiONE 
 
 Oh, yes, the prince that did not let his javelin 
 Crave human blood ! That was indeed magnan- 
 imous. 
 Quite as magnanimous as his escape 
 From Naxos in his ships without his bride ! 
 
 Ariadne 
 Nay, cavil not. That act enfranchised me. 
 Although he knew it not. And strangely, too. 
 The warrior soul who rules by force of will, 
 
62 Cfte ©eal of l^ellag 
 
 More brave than he who battles with the sword, 
 
 Has won my strong allegiance. Pra}^, dear 
 Dione, 
 
 Pray tell me more and more of him ; your po- 
 etic soul 
 
 Can glorify each minor circumstance 
 
 And vitalize it. 
 
 Dione 
 
 Ah, here Thalia comes. 
 
 Go walk with her along the sea girt way 
 
 While I report to the assembly. Ere long I 
 
 shall return, 
 And with me one whom you may love to see. 
 
 Thalia^ with a smile of understanding , takes 
 up the tale of Hellas^ its feuds and victories; 
 hut one theme seems always paramount. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And what about Lord Bacchus, when the bands 
 Of Nature-worshippers were scattered far and 
 
 near 
 On Hellas hills, disturbing the Athenian's re- 
 pose ? 
 
 Thalia 
 Oh, that was not the midnight revelers, 
 As some false chroniclers assert and hold. 
 But an indignant asseveration of their right 
 
Cfte %tal of T^tilm 63 
 
 To worship Nature in the way they chose, — 
 If not the gem-starred heavens above their 
 
 heads, 
 Then earth flower-starred, and hills of purpling 
 
 grapes 
 Which yielded crimson health within their veins. 
 
 'Twas Pentheus who so little understood 
 Man's need of worship, — thrust their claims 
 
 aside. 
 Tore down the vineyards, threatening loss of life 
 To their dear leader and his followers ; 
 And like some other things where priests and 
 
 kings 
 Forbid the good for fear ill might usurp. 
 Then ruthlessly destroyed both good and ill 
 Without discrimination. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Oh, yes ; I see. 
 
 It is one fault of thrones and dynasties 
 That crucify the good for some imagined ill ; 
 For Hades' realm beneath Olympia lies. 
 Yet takes not from its grand sublimity, 
 And yet they deem it sulphurous. 
 
 Thalia 
 
 So there was noise and tumult that their rites 
 Were rudely interfered with, their temple 
 razed, — 
 
64 Cfte ^eal of J^ella^ 
 
 Their temple being but the vine-clad hill 
 With its arboreal trees of poplars and of bays ; 
 Lord Bacchus they would fain have taken pris- 
 oner 
 'Cept guarded by the loyal Bacchanals. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Ah, then the word is a misnomer quite, 
 Which makes a Bacchanal supposed to be 
 A refugee from Hades with the flames 
 Still clinging to his person? 
 
 Thama 
 
 Yes ; they were battling for true liberty 
 E'en in their worship, and for their leader's life ; 
 And though excitement might have bred excess, 
 It was not universal, just the overflow 
 Of strong emotional experience. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I am so glad. 
 
 It proves the truth of what you wisely said, — 
 That Hades lies beneath Olympia, 
 And yet Olympia should not be blamed 
 Because she trembles when false natures war. 
 
 Thalia 
 The trembling is not for her own fair towers, 
 Her massive pillars built for centuries. 
 But with the fear that all the votaries 
 
Cfte Seal of ^eUa0 65 
 
 Of sane delights in Nature's royal realm 
 Might be withdrawn for lack of manly will 
 In subjugation of the lower self. 
 
 Ariadne 
 
 Acetes then 
 
 Made his most famous plea, and bravely said, 
 
 " This leader is a god "? 
 
 Thalia 
 
 Yes, Pentheus saw 
 
 That he must yield. Thus Nature-worship 
 
 lived 
 In Hellas land all through the hours and days 
 Until the present ; but the leader soon 
 Took sail for Naxos, Acetes with him there. 
 But while the ship was hastening on its way, 
 Some human fiends that should have found 
 
 their way 
 To Hades' realm thought tribute should be 
 
 paid. 
 And they would hold the ship until the money 
 
 chest 
 Was opened and its contents given to them. 
 
 But, lo, the ship stood still, and in mid-ocean 
 
 there 
 Vines rich with grapes ran up the towering 
 
 mast. 
 
66 Cfte S)eal of J^ella0 
 
 And ivy twined around the idle oars, and, 
 
 strange to say. 
 First one and then another of the Hades' brood 
 Were changed to dolphins. And Acetes ruled 
 The ship ; then steered out from the dolphin 
 
 shoal 
 And sailed at once for Naxos. 
 
 AuiADNE 
 
 Oh, thanks, Thalia, 
 
 For telling me of this in your sweet way. 
 Now you will join us at the feast to-night, 
 For he, the hero of these wondrous tales. 
 In all his unseen armor will be there. 
 And also our Dione, and Athene, 
 And many nymphs and gods and goddesses 
 Who love to meet with mortals and who give 
 Some charm from their unseen celestial fields 
 And broaden ours to meet and comprehend 
 them. 
 
Cfte @eal of !^ella0 6T 
 
 ARIADNE AMONG THE IMMORTALS 
 
 As the time arrives for the special feasts to 
 the god of the vine; and to Pan, the god of the 
 flowers and groves; and to Pomona, the god- 
 dess of the fruits, hoth gods and mortals have 
 their seasons of rejoicing. Pallas Athena her- 
 self graces some of these occasions, and as she 
 is the promoter of all classic art, she finds al- 
 ways a royal welcome. Apollo, Artemis, and 
 their attendant concourse of people are often 
 with them in the beautiful ripening gardens, 
 Ariadne has never before seen such an assem- 
 blage of happy people. The goddess Iris 
 comes floating down on her rainbow path and 
 finds that some one had a thought in her honor, 
 also another thought about a little flower that 
 Pan loves. It is the goddess Athena herself, 
 who, calling attention to the twin flowers that 
 have grown up side by side beneath one of the 
 supports for the purpling grapes, has offered to 
 be the reader. It is never their plan to call 
 attention to the authors of their hymns or 
 songs, for all are gifted with that warmth of 
 appreciation which makes these occasions de- 
 lightful. 
 
68 Ct)e ©eal of l^eUajs 
 
 Athena reads or recites the poem that Pan 
 loves, 
 
 MONATROPA UNIFLORA 
 I 
 The witchery of the hills had cast its spell 
 O'er pulse and spirit. Idly prone I lay, 
 Absorbing sunshine. Mounds of new mown 
 
 hay, 
 With wealth of clover, mint, and asphodel, 
 A purling stream whose silvery lips could tell 
 How scythe of Damocles made haste to slay 
 Lush growth and beautiful with purpose fell 
 (No prescience of such fate in winsome May), 
 To feed the maw of ox, for pelf to sell. 
 Or bid it perish when the winter's spray 
 Of diamond facets held their forceful sway. 
 Locked in the frozen heart of grove and dell. 
 Be mute, O soul ! Nor humanly rebel ; 
 Life's mysteries in one petaled globe may dwell ! 
 
 II 
 
 Silent, subdued, but with a quickened sense 
 
 Of nearness to great Nature in repose. 
 
 My palms close pressed against the garnered 
 
 rows 
 That held sweet May's shorn bloom in evidence ; 
 Close by my hand, beneath a moss grown fence 
 One tree-root grassward crept. Lo, what were 
 
 those.'' 
 
Cfte ^eal of J^ella^ 69 
 
 Two milk white blossoms, pure as Alpine snows, 
 Stood side by side with arms enclasped; and 
 
 thence 
 Artemis spake to Pan, " Love*s pro'vidence" 
 On wind-swept surface where the raspberry 
 
 grows, 
 This marvellous life idyl ! Heart of rose, 
 Snow-calyxed, lest it blush of bride disclose ; 
 Low drooping head in eager, shy pretence. 
 But thrilled and trembling in her love's sus- 
 pense. 
 
70 Cl)e S)eal of ^ella0 
 
 ARIADNE AND DIONE ON THE SHORE 
 
 While near the shore they are attracted by a 
 concourse of vessels. 
 
 Ariadne 
 What can it mean, Dione? Stay with me. 
 There is something in the air of menace. 
 
 Dione 
 That can hardly be, for the commander is 
 Pirithous. 
 
 Ariadne 
 How could any message come to me when long 
 days have passed ; and yet it may surely be that 
 King Theseus at last wishes to make reparation. 
 I have no desire ever to go away from here. 
 
 Dione 
 Bless you for that. Meanwhile, go rest among 
 the oaks, my love, and I'll give you a thought 
 for your enjoyment about the Zeus of Dodona. 
 The oracle for Dodona is in a grove of oaks. 
 Instruments hate been invented to register the 
 faintest sound of a whisper in the leaves. Zeus 
 is indeed the god of the winds, as iEolus is 
 only his mortal minister, but seems to have even 
 
Cfte Seal of J^ella0 71 
 
 a god's understanding of them. Now go and 
 rest there, and listen to the winds and the wa- 
 ters. I, as the companion of the Princess Ari- 
 adne, shall refuse you audience with any one 
 who might make you think of the past with an- 
 noyance. 
 
 Your real home, Ariadne, is among the flowers 
 and vines that have sprung up only for you. 
 They would droop and die if you should leave 
 them. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I should be the flower that would droop and 
 die. Beautiful Naxos ! Beautiful life in Na- 
 xos ! Poets and gods for companions ; such 
 consideration for every mental and musical gift ! 
 
72 CJ)e @eal of l^ellag 
 
 ARIADNE AND DIONYSUS 
 
 While Ariadne is resting in the grove of oaks, 
 Dionysus joins her, 
 
 Ariadne 
 I have been listening to the whispering of the 
 leaves as if it were the oracle of Dodona. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Has it been telling you of your future? 
 
 Ariadne 
 No ; the present is too full of peace and happi- 
 ness. I feel as if I were in the presence of the 
 immortals. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Ariadne herself is one of them. Even in staid 
 Athens she has been called '' Queen of Song," 
 and some of her simple studies of form in sculp- 
 ture are finding a place in the temple. 
 
 Ariadne 
 It is because her friends have helped to place 
 them there. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Not altogether. It is from a certain quality of 
 
Cfte §)eal of J^ellais 73 
 
 sadness or sympathy that impresses itself, — 
 the sadness or wonder that one sees in the eyes 
 of the faun, and sometimes in human beings, as 
 if looking for his own place in the universe. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And yet always hoping to find it by always 
 looking toward Olympus? 
 
 Dionysus 
 And they tell me that Master Pirithous is using 
 his best endeavors to find you, but that Dione 
 objects to the interview. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Probably the message he wishes to deliver is 
 from the king. I care less for the message 
 than for the equity. I never wish to think of 
 one as noble as Prince Theseus leaving one alone 
 on the dark shore asleep. I would not wish 
 that fact to go into the annals of the time with- 
 out some word of reparation for the deed. / 
 shall see Pirithous. 
 
 Dionysus 
 My beautiful Ariadne, beautiful in spirit as 
 well as in person ! If I may speak to you in the 
 way of a mortal, I would say that I love you ; 
 that in the way of a mortal, I am jealous of 
 throne and king. 
 
74 Cfie §)eal of I^ella0 
 
 Ariadne 
 The day that in my sorrowing moments I saw 
 the kindness in your eyes and heard you rebuke 
 Echo, my love became yours ; and since then, 
 day by day, it has deeper grown. 
 
 Dionysus 
 Then, my Ariadne, here is the crown with the 
 seven stars. Let me crown thee queen, my 
 queen ! 
 
 Ariadne 
 Let me be silent. Crown me not until the high 
 priest has blessed us. Crown me not until I 
 have seen Pirithous in my simple garb. My 
 beloved ! I may call thee this name for thine 
 own. 
 
 Dionysus 
 The dearest of all names, since my Ariadne has 
 chosen it. 
 
 Ariadne 
 But the other still for every day, — or Bacchus, 
 the friend of the god Pan, and the friend of 
 Dione. 
 
 Dionysus 
 All sweet names from your lips. 
 
 Ariadne 
 And, beloved, I cannot see the king's messenger 
 to-day. I must go down to the shore that 
 
Cfie ^eal of ^ella0 75 
 
 looks towards Crete, and let the waves whisper 
 my happiness to my father. 
 
 Dionysus 
 And some day, sweetest Ariadne, the prow of 
 our ship will be towards the palace of King 
 Minos. And then the crown of the seven stars ! 
 He shall be told that at the end of long, long 
 years it shall be a constellation in the heavens. 
 This will give his aged heart pleasure. 
 
 Ariadne 
 I must see the gift, beloved, but not wear it 
 until after the high priest's blessing, and I must 
 tell Dione. But first, I must go to King Piri- 
 thous in my simple garb, and must deal alone 
 with this embassy from the king. 
 
76 Cfte ©eal of J^ella0 
 
 ARIADNE'S ETERNAL FAREWELL 
 TO THESEUS 
 
 Ariadne meets Firithous, who brings a letter 
 from King Theseus. 
 
 Ariadne 
 Hadst thou, O Pirithous, on that sad day 
 When King ^geus from his precipice 
 Fell prone into the sea, and all the throng 
 Began to shout, " The King is dead ! 
 The King is dead ! Long live the King ! " 
 Thou, seeing all, hadst held my life in leash 
 With fold on fold of tenderness, and said, 
 " All hail, our Ariadne ! She is queen ! " 
 And people might have loved her, Pirithous ! 
 
 How thou didst love the man whose flocks and 
 
 herds. 
 When lawless thou didst take, he, Theseus, by 
 
 force of arms 
 Recovered; but so stalwart in his prime 
 That looking on him thou didst love him well ; 
 And when he asked thee for the penalty, 
 "Thy friendship!" This alone thy loyal 
 
 thought ; 
 
Cfte ^eal of ^ellag 77 
 
 And there is that in him that doth respond. 
 Or friendship could not live. 
 
 I see the ships are anchored in the bay, 
 
 And he has sent thee on this embassy. 
 
 And with you letters which I will receive. 
 
 And, yes, sometime may answer. These white 
 
 sailed ships 
 Are messengers of peace, and not of war, 
 And like the schemes young nobles take to cheat 
 Stern life of hard realities. Both sought He- 
 lena fair. 
 And both went down to Hades in a wild 
 Chase for excitement, and for Persephone ; 
 But calmed, subdued at last, came up from 
 
 thence. 
 Wiser and better men for the reproof 
 Of stately Dis who both reproved and loved. 
 
 But, Pirithous, 
 My home is here. Too late, by far too late; 
 Too long thy ships have dallied, as if the fate 
 That kept the ships of Bacchus on the sea 
 Till vines grew round the rigging and the fruit 
 Had time to come to late maturity. 
 Had kept his letter till it proved to be 
 The flower of thy firm justice, not his own. 
 Take, then, my answer, but he stUl his friend! 
 
 " To Theseus King : 
 
 " No, no ; forever no ! 
 
78 Cfte S)eal of ^ella0 
 
 Thy pleading comes too late, too late ; 'tis vain, 
 And Master Pirithous, thy messenger, 
 Has the irrevocable, final word ! 
 
 " O Theseus, when the god within the man 
 By whom the man is dominate, and held 
 To all high purposes, — when the god escapes 
 And leaves him tenantless, the high heavens 
 weep. 
 
 " It was the god within thy human breast 
 That sailed from Athens with the captive 
 
 throng, — 
 The seven and second seven, thyself being one, 
 Self-ofFered in thy spirit's sweet humanity. 
 And faced that dreadful doom, war's penalty. 
 And thine the bravery, thine the danger call. 
 To pierce within the hated labyrinth 
 Where lay the wasted bones of seven times 
 
 seven, 
 And million dangers known to all who feel 
 The joy of life, yet life's vicissitudes. 
 
 " And, Theseus, was it not the god in me 
 That drew the price of peace where others 
 
 failed, — 
 Brought back by pleading ; for aye annulled the 
 
 vow 
 Which neither king should ever have believed 
 
Cfte ©eal of l)tM$ 79 
 
 To be a binding one when it imperilled life, 
 Or many lives of those who did no wrong. 
 
 " The ring that held the record of that vow 
 With stern King Minos, held the silken thread 
 Wrapped close about my wrist whose beating 
 
 pulse 
 Throbbed but for you that day to bring you 
 
 back 
 Unscathed and safe; which did its work 
 As you did, in that dark and dreadful place, 
 Receiving plaudits from the multitude, — 
 And yet what word for me, your chosen one ! 
 
 " Thou hadst two warring natures, Theseus 
 
 King, 
 And yet thy life, defrauded and bereft 
 Of childhood's joys, explains to some degree 
 The fluctuating purpose by excusing it. 
 Some cause had left JEgeus weak of will 
 In those unriper years, with cares of state. 
 Else had he ne'er consented to this grievous 
 
 thing. 
 To tribute paid by blood, paid now no more ! 
 Nor Minos, king of Crete, such penalty 
 Had sought with sad persistence. 
 
 " O my lost Theseus ! If the god in you and me 
 Had then found speech and action, by Heaven's 
 will 
 
80 Cfie ©eal of i^ellag 
 
 Our burning words, passing from sea to sea, 
 
 Had put a spine in Hellas ! Had refused 
 
 To yield to those demands that young fair 
 
 blood, 
 Most fair and innocent, that did no wrong ; 
 Nor Crete such tribute foul had ever sought. 
 
 " Your young, strong valor won it back betimes, 
 And should have kept it as thy sacred gift. 
 Had not ambition seized and held, and then, oh, 
 
 then. 
 Your Ariadne won was Ariadne lost ! 
 
 " ' Your Cretan maid,' forsooth, but not your 
 
 queen ! 
 So gave the dark Errynnes power and will 
 To crush my soul in all its sweetest ruth. 
 Whose very strength was in its tenderness. 
 Ah, that lone night, 'twixt mountains and the 
 
 sea! 
 Yet blame I not for that, since thus myself I 
 
 found, 
 
 And Ariadne saved for evermore 
 For Hellas and for Crete! " 
 
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