.>V^^ -.^^ ;^\ X/ :MK'. \f J'\ °»W^'' >'^'"^*^ ^^K*" /'"""^^ .•1°^ ^°-^<^^ >\-^^X'*^°'.:^^' o C^ *' ^^-^K o. '*'" .-J? ' ■sT'C,- / Sappho in Leucad I A BY ARTHUR STRINGER BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1907 Copyrighty igoy By Arthur Stringer. Stage rights reserved U88ARY of COWGRESsf NOV 9 \m~ Oooyn^ht Entry /Vcxv B 'ffl? DUSS A ac„ Ho. COPY 3. COLONIAL PRESS Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds &* Co. Boston, U. S. A. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA IIS CHARACTERS Sappho. Omaphale. Erinna. Atthis. Me gar a. Phaon. The poetess of Lesbos. A beautiful woman, still in her youth, passionate in word and mood and action. A young girl of Pharos, dark and slender, simple, rustic, almost uncouth in her shrinking timidity. Three young Lesbian women who study under Sappho. A Lesbian sailor; a swarthy, high-spirited, audacious, passionate man of the sea and lover of women, in the careless prime of his youthful strength. Pittacus. Tyrant of Mytilene; lean, calm, dispas- sionate, ambitious; of middle age. Alcaeus. The Lesbian poet; a thin, thoughtful, stoical man ; an embittered scholar of middle age, plotting against Sappho. Phocus. An idle and drunken poet of Samnos; fat and garrulous. Inarchus. An old Captain of the Guard of Pittacus; stolid, grisled, brawny. Hoplites, Sailors, a Soothsayer, Lesbian Men and Women. ii6 Sappho in Leucadia ACT ONE Scene: The white-rocked cliff of Leucate, on the Island of Leucadia, overlooking the Ionian Sea. It is a quiet night in early Spring, and the cliff is bathed in the clear, blue-white fiioonlight of the Mediter- ranean. On the right stands the Leiicadian Temple to Apollo, showing a wall of pale marble touched here and there with gold. On the left is the curving line of the cliff -edge, with the sea beyond. Across the centre distance stretches a shadowy line of Leuca- dian sweet-apple grafted on quince-trees, in full bloom. Under this canopy of pale blossoms, silent and motionless, at first, sit Sappho and Phaon, watching the sea. Near by stands a bronze fire-basin, set in a block of ?narble, the embers within it still gently smouldering. The only sound, as the curtain goes up, is the soft and rhythmical wash of the waves on the sea-beach below, which continues in a gentle 117 Il8 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA und/irtone throughout the act. Once the curtain is up the quietness is broken by the entrance of two swarthy, slender -bo died boys, who walk slowly across the stage. One youth, trailing a shepherd^s crook on his arm, blows a plaintive-noted air on a seven- piped syrinx. He stops before the cliff-edge, drops his crook, and peers below. Then he flings a stone out into the sea, waiting for the sound of its fall. The second youth continues to play on his rough wooden flute. The music he makes is the blithely sorrowful music of a contented and primitive people. The boys pass on, still playing. Sappho stirs and sighs, and raises her arms to Phaon^s shoulders. On her head she wears a rope of violets woven into a chaplet. Her gown, however, is Grecian in its severity, almost plastic in its loose, full lines and statue-like lack of color. Phaon, in contrast to this, is robed in the softest of Tyrian purples above a mild Phoenician azure. Rings of beaten gold, a roughly jewelled knife-belt, and a polished bronze clasp mounted with alternating emeralds and sap- phires, tend to make his figure one of almost Oriental richness. Sappho Oh, Phaon, was the world not made for love On such a night? The moonbeams and the sound Of music and the whispering of the waves — SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 119 They seem a woman's breast that throbs and burns And cries for love ! Phaon This is our last glad night On Leucate. Sappho Then lean to me again And say you love me as no woman, as No goddess clothed in glory, e'er was loved. Kindle and keep me burning like a flame Until I fall into your arms and lie As still as ashes. Kiss me on the mouth And say I am your first love and your last, The only love that all your life has known. Phaon Moon-white and honey-pale and delicate Your body seems, and yet within it burns A fire more fierce than ^Etna's. He stoops above her, hut she thrusts him hack with a sudden fear. Sappho Nay, I know These lips were not the first you crushed and kissed ! I20 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Phaon But you — have you ne'er sung of other Hps ? Sappho {with the deep voice of utter earnestness and conviction) I have known Love, but never love Hke this ! I have loved oft and lightly so at last I might love you ! These other men were not A god to me ! They were the trodden path, But not the Temple ! They were but the key And not the chamber ! They were but the oil And not the guarded lamp, the shallow tarn But not the mystic and impassioned Sea ! They were the mallet, not the marbled line, The unconsidered sail, but not the port; They were the flutters of a wing unfledged. The footsteps of a child who scarcely dreamed Of this predestined race with utter Joy! They only served to bring me near to you, And on their weakness raise and throne your strength I She clings to him again, passionately, -fiercely. Look, Phaon, in my eyes, and say once more You will not change, that you will never change ! You are a sea-god, not a man, I think, So bronzed and sinewed, so unruled and fierce SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 121 And jealous of your strength, so made to crush And hold and battle for the thing you love ! Oh, is it true that Aphrodite leaned Across your oar, that night in Mysia, And gave you of her ointment whereby Youth And Strength and Courage should be ever yours? Are you more beautiful than other men, Or do I dream these god-like graces round About your wilful body? Phaon Beautiful You are, so beautiful must ever be Your dreams ; the thoughts in your own heart Are hallowed with its spirit, as the Sea Leaves brighter color on the stones it laves ! Sappho Yet men whose years are spent upon the Sea Inconstant live ! They know as many loves As lands ! O Phaon, love but me, but me ! Phaon One land alone, the gods have now decreed, And but one woman ! Lesbos is the land. And you, you, you, the woman, that I love ! 122 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sappho and Lesbos — they shall ever seem The only music made by lonely waves Sounding on lonely shores ! Sappho I am afraid, Sometimes I am still half afraid of joy So great as this. Why should I be content Without Erinna, Atthis, Megara, And all my singing children? . . . And you say Unhappy lovers come to this same cHff And leap into the Sea ? Phaon And if they live The fires of love are quenched, 'tis held; no more They sigh and wait, no more their bodies burn . . . Sappho {peering across the cliff, with 77iusing and mournful eyes) And if they die they wait and weep no more ! O Phaon, why should we be talking here Of tears and sorrow ! They seem out of tune W^ith languorous nights like this and love like ours! For I am happy, Phaon . . . All the world Seems over-run with rapture, as with wine. It makes me look and wonder, leaves me thrilled SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 123 With wordless yearnings, with some vague content That seems too god-like in its unconcern, Too rare, too exquisite, for earthly hearts ! She turns from the Sea to the Temple and the higher slope of the cliff. Now Happiness and Leucate shall mean The same to me. Now all that life may bring Must seem a broken shadow of this month, This lotos-month of Love, this last soft night Of silence and of moonlight and of You ! She pauses and stirs and sighs, tremulously. What have you done to me ! I live in dreams Yet walk in light. I ache and burn with bliss. I could reach out my arms to all the world And take it to my breast and sing to it, — Yes, sing with music that would make it young And leave it glad, as in its Golden Age; Sing as the Sea has known no throat to sing, Sing, sing as Night has heard no lover sing ! Phaon But since you came from Lesbos there has been No music ! 124 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Sappho No ; nor need of music here ! For lips that press on Hps can ne'er lament, And song, Alcaeus says, is born of grief. You, you it was that made the throbbing lyres All vain and empty seem, you, you it was That stilled the singing voices, that dusk hour Amid the tangled mastic, when you bore Me up the cliffs in your bronzed arms and kissed Me on the mouth, and taught me that our mad. Glad, careless youth was lost, and left our world A world of moving shadows and of dream. And made me love you as I love you now — ' O Phaon, tell me you will never change ! Phaon See, slow of speech I am, as all men are Who fare upon the ocean and have known Its loneHness ! I scarce can say the words That seem to die upon my lips, and yet You know I love you — love you ! Sappho {rapturously) Breathe those words A thousand times, and still some music new Shall throb and murmur through each uttering ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 125 Yes; yes; I know how at our feeble lips The words e'er beat and flutter and fall back, The wings of love are held like prisoners ! If mortals all wxre lovers there should be No music and no need of music here ! That much this honeyed month with you, my own. Has taught me ! Phaon Have you never dreamed of home And Lesbos? Sappho Only of those days when you And I were happy there — those golden days Down by the sea, those idle afternoons When you and I and all the world were young, And from the sands we watched the opal sails And waded out into the pale green waves, Wet to our golden knees. Then you would stoop And lift me to the wave-worn galley deck, Lapped by the tremulous low Lesbian surf. And then w^hen evening came, back through green waves We plunged and swam with laughter, side by side ! Phaon You seemed more water-n}Tnph than woman, more A child of Cyprian foam than mortal flesh ! 126 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Sappho And often, when you pointed out the path Your outbound sail would take, to Leucate, Past Chios and Nakaria, on and on. Past Myconos and Naxos, cleaving west Through all the flashing Cyclades, and on Still westward, on past Creta low and dim Along the southern skyline, and still on Past thunderous Malea, beating up The blue Ionian, on, until you. saw The tall Leucadian cliffs so white and calm Above the azure water — then I thought You were indeed a god, of wind and storm, With all your sea-bronze and your fearless eyes. Round you a wonder fell, the wonder of Dark shores I knew not of, and day by day I watched for your return, and vaguely mourned Each wind and tide that carried you away ! Yes, like a god you seemed in that glad youth Of dreamy hours and languorous afternoons When close beside the murmuring sea -we walked. Then all the odorous summer ocean seemed A pale green field where foam one moment flowered Along the shaUows and the golden bars. And then was gone, and ever came again — A thousand blossom-burdened Springs in one. A god you seemed to me, and I was more Than happy, and at little things we laughed ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 127 Phaon And how we plunged and splashed deep in the cool Green waves — like Tethys and Oceanus, You said it was, upon the uttermost Last golden rampart of the world ! Sappho {still musingly) Yes . . . yes . . . Then would we rest, and muse upon the sands, Heavy with dreams, and touched with some sad peace Born of our very weariness of joy. While drooped the wind and all the sea grew still. And unremembered trailed the idle oar, And no leaf moved, and hushed were all the birds, And on the shoals the soft low ripples lisped Themselves to sleep, and sails swung dreamily, And the azure islands floated on the air! Phaon Was't years ago, or only yesterday? Sappho Then all your body seemed a temple white To me, and I a seeker who could find No god beyond the marble, no soft voice 128 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Beyond the carven silence — yet I kneeled And asked no more, and knew that I must love ! The bloom of youth was on your sunburnt cheek, The streams of life sang through your violet veins, The midnight velvet of your tangled hair Lured like a cooling rill my passionate hands. The muscles ran and rippled on your back Like wind on evening waters, and your arm Seemed one to cherish, or as sweetly crush. The odor of your body sinuous And saturate with sun and sea-air was As Lesbian wine to me, and all your voice A pain that took me back to times unknown. And when you swam bare-shouldered out to sea, Then, then the ephemeral glory of the flesh, The mystic sad bewilderment of warmth And Hfe amid the coldness of its world Was like a temple with the god restored. It seemed so pitiful, so fragile there, Poised like a sea-bird on some tumbling crest, Calling so faintly back across the storm, That one must love it as a tender flower. That one must guard it as a little child. It must have been some spirit of the Sea Crept through our veins in those long afternoons, For wave by wistful wave strange moods and dreams Stole over us — and then you turned and kissed Me on the mouth ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 129 Phaon {bending over her) ... As I must ever do — But listen where some restless woman sings 1 Out of the gloom, softened by distance, sounds the voice of a woman, singing to a cithara. The two figures on the cliff are poised motionless, listening, and slowly a drifting cloud dims the clear blue-white light of the full moon. The Voice sings When you lie in dewy sleep, And the night is dark and still, O that Voice which seems to creep From beyond some barrier hill ! O that sound, not wind or sea. From no bird or woodland blown, Bearing you away from me. Crying " One shall go alone ! " — Like a ghost that will not rest, Calling, calling us apart. Where you dream, Love, on my breast. Where you breathe close on my heart ! O that Cry, so far and lone, Mourning as the night grows old, I30 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA For the tears as yet unknown, For the parting still untold ! Then for nights you know not of, You who lie so near in sleep — Long I watch beside you, Love, Long and bitterly I weep ! Phaon {repeating the words) Long I watch beside you. Love, Long and bitterly I weep ! But yours this music is — it is the song Called " Sleep and Love ! '^ Sappho I was a dreaming girl When first I wove the fancy into words — I scarcely knew the meaning of the mood I toyed so lightly with ! Phaon To me it seems Too mournful. The night has been slowly turning darker. They stand outlined against the distant sea, still silver-white with the moon. A sense of awe creeps into their voices as they speak. SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 131 Sappho Yes, to-night it casts a chill Across my spirit. It thrusts upon my- heart The weight of all the tears that eyes have wept Because of love, since first the world began. Felt you my body shiver ? And a cloud Has crept across the moon ! What makes the night Seem passion-worn and old and touched with calm, So suddenly? Phaon 'Tis nothing but a cloud Across the moon's face. The liquid notes of a nightingale float through the night, Sappho starts up, raptly, listening to the bird. Sappho Listen. . . . Like the plash Of water turned to music still it sounds ! A nightingale ! It is a nightingale — To swear the world is young again, and love Shall live forever. Oh, my Phaon, come And creep a little closer, while it sings ! She moves slowly i^i the direction of the sound, Phaon still clinging indolently to her hand as she draws away. 132 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon 'Twill only lure you on, and creep away Between the leaves, and seem an empty Voice Along the echoing hillside. Sappho Come, oh, come! She goes slowly, with intent and upturned face, walking heedless towards the sound as Phaon speaks again. It grows still darker, and the figures seem almost ghostly in the half-light. Phaon Then I must burn a signal to my men, For I see lights on shore, new lights at sea, And torches moving by the outer cliff. He twists three handjuls of dried grass loosely together, and three times hums a signal from the cliff-edge, lighting his beacon on the smouldering urn-fire at the atlar. The drifting fiame lights up his bronzed face and figure. As he stands there, peering out for an answer- ing signal, Inarchus and a group of armed hoplites enter from the rear. The men carry flaring torches. Their armor sounds noisily through the quietness, SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 133 and Phaon wheels about with resentment, eyeing the intruders almost angrily, but otherwise unmoved. Inarchus {with the gruff, deep-chested voice of a grizzled veteran, bluff, matter-of-fact, authoritative) You, there — what man are you ? Phaon First tell me then What fish are you? Inarchus Men, hold your torches close ! They swing about, circling Phaon with light. He starts back in anger as the smoking torches flare in his face. Phaon Stand back ! Stand back there with your stinking brands, Or by the gods, you go across this cHfif, And drink a tierce of brine ! The men fall hack a little, hut Inarchus remains unmoved. What seek you here? 134 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Inarchus Is your name Phaon? Phaon Phaon once it was ! The hoplites remain motionless, while Inarchus bends over a scroll oj parchment, under one oj the torches. Inarchus Phaon, of Chios born, but many years Of Lesbos, once a ferry-man to Mysia, And now the master of a ship that plies From Lemnos down to Cyprus, and still out As far as Sicily, and north at times as far As Leucate? Phaon I am that selfsame man. Inarchus Ho, Lesbians, stand close ! . . . Then you are charged Of seizing and of taking off, by force. To sea with you the girl Omaphale, Daughter of Rhodopus of Pharos, born A free-man . . . SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 135 Phaon Stop ! Who makes this charge ? Inarchus {ignoring his query) . . . The girl Thus seized, abducted, and betrayed, was held Against her will . . . Phaon What woman need I hold Against her will? Inarchtcs . . . And on your ship was forced To suffer . . . Phaon {his quick anger now aroused) Stop ! Enough ! This woman came Unforced and willingly ! Inarchus {cynically) This shall be seen. Phaon Has she thus spoken? Inarchus She has spoken naught . . . 136 SAPPHO IN ZEUCADIA Phaon Then who confronts me with this charge? Inarchiis 'Twas laid By one in Lesbos. Phaon Not the girl herself? Inarchus By* one who is esteemed of Pittacus Himself, who makes the woman's cause his own ! Phaon And is this man sometimes Alcaeus called? Inarchus Alcaeus, if you will. Phaon I thought as much ! Inarchus The charge was laid . . . SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 137 Phaon {passionately) ... By one who learned to fawn Round Tyrants that have taught him not to snarl ; By one who strums on harps and boasts how calm And water-cool his numbers are, yet was Lycimnia's, Qito's, Stheno's lover; by The priest of half-way passion, who is hot And cold by turns ; by him who struts and mouths Of closet intrigues up and down the streets Of Mytilene ! Inarchiis Cease ! For Justice mouths Still up and down the streets of Mytilene ! Sir, I am of the guard of Pittacus. To him three witnesses have duly sworn You carried off this girl, while mad with wine . . . Phaon They lie, each one of them ! Inarchus . . . While mad with wine, You seized and took this girl, the sister of Scylax, the youth Alcaeus schools in song. Hence, by the new decree of Pittacus, Who stands behind Alcaeus that the law 138 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA May be upheld, all crime in drunkenness Enacted shall be met by punishment Two-fold ! Phaon A blow for wine, and then a blow, I take it, for the fall the wine compelled ! And so Alcaeus thus resents the hand That holds what ne'er was his . . . and so he fights ! Inarchus He stands within the law, my hot-eyed youth ! He knows his ground, and he in Lesbos said You should be branded like a slave re-caught, Ay, dragged back unto Justice by the hair ! Phaon's quick southern blood is now on fire, and he snatches out the short-hladed Lesbian sword that hangs at his waist. He turns on them. Phaon Enough of this ! Who drags me by the hair ? Who brands me like a slave? You lead these men, You seem to be the mouth-piece of this king In Lesbos who ordains how men shall love And shall not love ! I say this woman came To me of her free will. And you have said SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 139 That like a street- cur with a bone, I caught And seized and carried her away ! You stand And cry such things ! Great gods, no breathing man Speaks words Hke this to me — you hireUng dog Of harlot-mongers, we shall fight this out ! Inarchus I do not fight with brawlers of the sea. With every cut-throat who has smelt of pitch And carried off a woman ! Phaon Mark you this: Here stands a hawser-puller you shall fight ! Here stands an anchor-scraper who will make You eat your liar's oaths, or die of it ! Inarchus (who now holds himself in with a visible ejjort) No, I am here the servant of the Law , . . Phaon Then say this woman was not seized by me, Or Law and you are liars ! Inarchus What you seized Or left unseized, is not for me to say ! I40 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Phaon And there again you lie. . . . You could have sought This woman out, and from her mouth have learned The truth itself. Instead of that you take The pay of slanderers, and nose through mire For money ! Inarchus Check this passion, or by all The gods of war, your tongue shall taste my steel! Phaon I feed on steel when cowards such as you Hold forth a platter ! Come ! I love to spit Fat-legged defamers, pompous cavillers. Red-nosed deriders . . . Inarchus {beyond control now) Stop; we two shall fight; We two shall fight, you Fury of the Deep, You tunny spiced with brine ! Come ; we shall fight ! Inarchus discards his heavy metal shield, and flings down his spear, keeping only his short-bladed Grecian sword. The torch-bearers fall back and range them- selves in a wider but regular circle about the two com- batants. Inarchus faces the infuriated Phaon with the contemptuous pity of a seasoned soldier for an unequal SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 141 foe, with the forbearance of a misunderstood man forced into an undesired fight. Then the momentary silence is broken by the voice of Sappho, sounding clear, mellow, unexpected, out of the gloom. It is a call that is rich and low, alluring and warm. As Phaon hears it he rememhers. A change creeps over him ; he awakens, as from a dream, and uncon- sciously draws back. Then his arm slowly falls , down to his side. Sappho My Phaon, are you coming? I have found The thicket, and the nightingale has sung Of love, love, love to me, until my arms Are aching for you? Are you coming soon? Phaon Her voice? (Inarchus wheels about in amazement) Inarchus What girl is this that floats between The trees? Phaon It must not be ! No, no ; not now ! Inarchus Who is this virgin lost in th' moonlight there? — How many women woo you, in the year? 142 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Phaon She must not know ! This can not be to- It must not be ! Inarchus How now? What must not be? Phaon I was a fool ... I cannot fight with you ! Inarchus gods of war, what weather-cocks we are I — This fight you hungered for, and you shall have ! Phaon No; I was Wind; I must not, can not, fight! Oh, more in this there is than you can know; Yet listen, for beneath the gods I speak The utter truth ! If I have done aught wTong 1 shall still answer for it. But this girl Omaphale, of her own choosing, made My ship her home till one short journey's end ! It was a youthful folly, and naught else, A wildness of the blood, a weakness shown And set aright. A coast girl she had been, And swam out like a nereid to my prow When we were in the harbor. She would sit SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 143 Upon the galley's thwart and shyly laugh And talk with me. She month by month would watch For my return. Then one day when we sat Alone upon the deck, and her dark hair Fell loose about her, drying in the sun, A silence crept upon us, and her face Went suddenly white and she cried out to me: " Oh, I would go with you unto the ends Of all the world ! " And when I wakened she Lay weeping there upon my arm ! Inarchus And so? Sappho (from without) Are you not coming, Phaon? Phaon Coming — yes. Inarchus When you, good youth, have passed a further word Or two with me ! Phaon Then quick, what would you hear? 144 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Inarchus Put up your sword ! ... I am the instrument And not the State you answer to. These things Must still be told to them who know the Law . They shall be told . . . So late, my Phaon? Phaon Sappho What keeps you waiting there Phaon 'Tis a crying ewe Strayed from its flock ! Quick, closer here. My ship Lies yonder in the bay. At dawn we sail For Lesbos. There I pledge to meet this charge And show it false. Inarchus {impatiently) How will you show it false? Phaon By bringing my accusers and this girl Together, face to face. If she then says That I compelled her into crime, I stand Prepared for punishment. Alcaeus then SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 145 Can be disposed of one who crossed his path More times than once. , . . Nay, send these very men Aboard my ship, to guard the homeward course — But as you are a man of justice, breathe No word of this mad charge to . . . {Sappho has entered while he speaks, and stands before the groups for a moment perplexed. Then she holds torch after torch to the immobile faces of the hoplites, still puzzled) Sappho But what men Are these? Phaon Fresh seamen, for the ship, I signalled for. Sappho Their faces all look strange. I thought I knew Each man among them, all who used to sing On deck with me the Sailors' Song to Dusk ! They all look hard and cold. . . . And this great cliff Is but the rampart from which cruel Love Thrusts out its lost, as from the frowning walls Of War the dead are flung ! She shudders and shrinks away, then starts, looks upward, and motions, almost imperiously, for the silent Phaon. 146 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA But hark; there flutes And calls the nightingale again. ... So come. . . . This is our last night, Love, on Leucate ! She links her arm in Phaon^s, and they stand listening, with uplifted faces swept by the clear, blue-white moonlight breaking through soft cloud-rifts. The foot-soldiers stand motionless, their torches faring. Curtain SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 147 ACT TWO An almond and olive grove above the Mgean Sea, near Mytilene, two weeks later. In the foreground is an open space, soft with turf, shadowed on the right by a row of cypresses, through which the pale marble of a headland Pharos towers and glimmers. On the left stretches the calm, turquoise of the water. Violets can be seen thick along the cliff -edge, and -flowers in profusion add to the coloring of the tropical background. It is late afternoon as the curtain goes up, and Alcaeus is discovered stridijig back and forth, lean and pale and impatient. A moiuent later Omaphale creeps in, looks about, and turns to Alcaeus with what is half a sob and half a gasp of disappointment. She is a slender, white-faced young girl with tragic and haunted eyes. Omaphale He is not here? Alcaeus Did Zetes of the Guard Give you the message ? 148 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Omaphale {still peering about) Yes. ... He is not here ! Alcaeus Then what we two would speak of must be held In secrecy. Omaphale I know . . . But where is he? You promised that my Phaon would be here ! Alcaeus Your Phaon ! Girl, when was this Phaon yours ? Omaphale I loved him, sir Alcaeus She loved him ! So, indeed, Have other women done, and little good E'er came of it. If this man could be torn To pieces as Actaeon, or as Pentheus was, And parcelled out to them he claimed to love, Still would there be some woman unpossessed Of this capricious eel, this ferry-man That swims in amorous tears ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 149 Omaphale But you have said That you would bring him back to me ! Alcaeus I said That if you acted as I may ordain Your lover should once more be brought to you. Omaphale What is it I must do? Alcaeus If still you wish To wed this Phaon, 'tis within the power Of Pittacus to make you man and wife — If such you ask. Omaphale What must I do? Alcaeus You wish To make him yours, to see him bound to you? Omaphale I care not if he weds me, or he comes And takes me quite unwed ... if only he Will love me ! 150 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Alcaeus Yet if wedded to this man You still may hold him, and you will be his Through every change of heart, and he must house And clothe and feed you, as the law commands. Omaphale As he may house and feed a hungry dog, And love it not ! I care not for the law — If he will love me, that is all I ask. Alcaeus You harp on love as though it were the last And only thing in life ! Omaphale It is — to me ! Alcaeus (aside) It was — to me. But I am wiser now. Come closer while I speak — it must be brief. If still you love this man you shall be made His wife. To-night in Mytilene meets The Assembly, and its Council can decree That Phaon marry you, if you but swear That having lured you from your father's home, By force he took you off to sea, and there . . . SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 151 Omaphale This is not true ! Alcaeus But truth it must be made ! Omaphale No, no ; I went of my own will ! Alcaeus Then weak You were, and foolish ! Omaphale (softly) Yes . . . but happy, too ! Alcaeus Why were you happy? Omaphale Was I not with him? Alcaeus Then do as I have said, and you may be Once more with him. Swear that, against your will He took you out to sea — and in one day All Lesbos will acclaim you as his wife ! 152 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Omaphale And him — what will I be to him ? These words Are not the truth ! Why should I seek to hold His love by lies? Alcaeus You knew, and lost, his love — That is the final truth we two must face. But still the man himself comes back to you If you but raise a finger ! Omaphale Lost his love? Alcaeus Then you can keep him close ; then you can guard His coming and his going, and ward off Another woman's witcheries ! Omaphale (wanly) Ward off Another woman's witcheries ! . . . You mean He loves some other woman now? Alcaeus He loves Another woman. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 153 Omaphale All . . . all these long months — Was she with him for all these endless months? Alcaeus They were together ! Omaphale {bewildered) And I lost his love ! Alcaeus {Utterly) Then say the word, and tear him from her arms, And teach him what it is to feel the teeth Of hunger in his heart, to know the ache Of empty nights, the dragging days of pain More desolate than any Hell, the years Embittered, ay, the broken life that crawls And whines for death ! Omaphale You hate this man I Alcaeus {remembering himself, and reining in his fury) I hold him one who should be envied more Than Pittacus himself ... I hate him not. 154 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Omaphale From you he took this woman — Hwas from you I Alcaeus Mine she had never been ! Omaphale (remembering) But now is hisi Alcaeus — Until you say the word that brings him back ! Some one approaches . . . Quick ! We must be brief. Will you, before the Council, make this charge ? Omaphale Would I against him make this charge ? No ; no ! I cannot ! Oh, I cannot ! It would mean His empty body, his unanswering eyes. His sullen unconcern, his growing hate For me, his gaoler, and his greater love For that far happier woman still withheld ! 'Twould be like creeping to the tomb of one We loved and lost, and gnawing on the bones That once embraced us ! No ... It shall not be ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 155 Alcaeus The law itself may act ! ... if you will not. Omaphale I cannot act against the man I love. Alcaeus Quick, Pittacus approaches; we must not Be seen together. Turn and walk away Between the olive-trees, and look not back Until you seem alone. And not a word Of what I said until you meet me here At nightfall. Omaphale (bewildered and broken) Phaon loves another ! Alcaeus. Quick, And think upon these things, until we meet. As Omaphale creeps slowly and dispiritedly away, Pittacus and Inarchus, in full armor, enter, followed by P hocus, carrying a leathern wine- sack. He is fat and hlowsy, and prone to drop off into sudden sleep. Alcaeus greets the Tyrant and his Body- 156 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A guard, and stands beside Pittacus. Both seem lean and moody men preoccupied with their own thoughts and ends. Phocus settles himself beside a stunted olive-tree and slumbers. Inarchus 'Tis here between the Pharos and the Sea These women sing ! Pittacus We know they sing, but what ? Inarchus By Pluto's bones, 'tis more than I can say ! But here, as you and Pittacus desired, I placed a guard, disguised as shepherd-boys; And honest Phocus as a swine-herd sat Close by and listened, since he has the gift Of making song, like good Alcaeus here. Alcaeus Now, by Apollo's harp, this is too much ! Pittacus Then tell us what was heard. SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 157 Inarchus In the cool of early day They come with cithara and harp and lyre And plectrum', with outlandish instruments Of string and w^ood, inlaid with ivory, And some with gold, and squat between this grove And yonder cypresses. Pittacus (impatiently) But what was said Between these women? What songs were sung? Inarchus I am a rough man, sir, a son of War, Unschooled in twiddling thumbs on things of gold And ivory. 'Twere best ask Phocus here; {He kicks Phocus to awaken him) His trade is making song ! Ho, Phocus, wake. Phocus By Bacchus, now, I must have had a wink Of sleep ! {He yawns and stretches, lazily) Inarchus Tell us what amorous breed o' song Your swine-herd ears were fed on yester-morn ! 158 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phocus What breed o' song ! Song fit for one that was In truth a swine-herd ! Sirs, such sorry stuff That I all but foreswore Euterpe's cause And turned to honest labor — for this talk Of Sappho and her school disgorges me ! Alcaeus {aside) But, mark you, not of words ! Phocus I could have shown Your Lesbos, ay, and Athens, what true song And singing is, but paugh ! they'd know it not ! This world of ours grows worse, sirs, year by year, And all they take to now is sham and sound ! Pittacus {to Alcaeus) Oh, muffle somewhat these Mygdonian pipes! Phocus Why, song's not what I well remember it — There was in Samnos, when I was a boy, A lean old goat-herd — what a drunkard, too ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 159 Alcaeus {to Pittacus) Who died of a grape seed in the wind-pipe, sir! Phociis — Who strung, across a shark's-jaw on a box Of cedar dipped in beeswax, five short strings, And twanged them with a Kttle brazen thumb, And made up songs about the early days. When life was worth the living, giving us Most wondrous music — that I mind right well ! Pittacus But we are like all Greece ; we still would know Of Sappho's singing ! Phocus Sappho's singing — paugh ! The lady, mark you, sir, I much esteem. And hold no quarrel with — 'tis but this stuff Of burning fire and brimstone, and the mouth Of black volcanoes boiling up with love That scorches half of Lesbos ! I could take A syrinx made of willows and out-sing This walking cithara, if only men Would come and listen ! {He drinks and settles hack, as if making ready to sleep) l6o SAPPHO IN ZEUCADJA Alcaeus As we do, alas ! Pittacus Enough of this fat wine-sack ! Let me know What you have noted ! Inarchus Sir, as I have said, This Sappho that you bade me watch so close Comes forth and talks with them, all draped in flowers, And schools them in the mincing of big words To foolish sounding music ! What might pass Between them more I know not. But 'tis here They come and sit and brood above the sea, Like mooning cliff-birds ! Pittacus Men and girls alike? Inarchus No; girls alone — grown girls — fine amorous-eyed Deep-bosomed women, who should love and mate With men like me, and bear us soldiers, sir. To laugh at Solon, and have Lesbos feared ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA i6l Pittacus And who shall fear an island full of harps? Inarchus I am a bluff man, sir, and what it means, This singing of white virgins, I know not ! But when I was a youth no girls sat down With girls, and strummed on wires of twisted gut Alcaeus Mark you his words ! There lies the only way This woman can be met and overthrown ! Since Athens crowned her for her singing here They wait upon her like a goddess ! Pittacus True! And for a crown of olive ! Yesterday My chariot-wheels rang through deserted streets And not a slave-girl watched me as I went. But on the wharves all Mytilene cheered; The harbor rocked with roses, and the ships Lay smothered under blossoms, and a barge Of myrtle-branches and shrill-singing girls Went from the Western Quay, and boys swam out l62 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Beyond the Second Bar — all, all to meet Her sail — the sail of Sappho coming back To Lesbos ! Alcaeus Yet you always scoffed at Song ! Pittacus And every way she turned were cries and tears, And every street she walked was paved with leaves Of oleander ! Alcaeus And you scoffed at Song! Pittacus I knew no need of Song. I had my work — My work that led me on by paths austere And walked beside me with its patient eyes And seemed forever mirthless. Yet when life Grew wise and hard and empty, and the friends Of youth all fell away, 'twas in this friend, 'Twas in this comrade with the quiet eyes And solemn brow, I found my final peace, Alcaeus And she will come and overthrow that peace With other friends — for she is loved of all Your people, and she sways them at a word ! SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 163 Pittacus Ay, sways them as a wine-vat sways a mob ! Alcaeics But still she sways them ! Should they see her go From Lesbos, as you threatened, at a word The island would take fire and rage and sweep With one unending " Down with Pittacus ! " Pittacus I have scant fear of that ! Much more I fear What this poor land may fall to ! Think of it In hands like Sappho's, drugged with sighs and song ! As well ask butterflies to fight for us, Ask larks to haul the iron-rimmed wheels of state ! Too well I see it ! This shall be the home Of weaklings; while some sturdier land unknown To us shall cub rough-hearted men of war, Men strong and ruthless, ravenous, uncouth, To sweep upon us with their hurrying hordes And grind our gentle hands and golden harps Beneath barbarian heels. Wine, wine I hate. And Sappho hate — and both shall be put down ! Alcaeus You of To-morrow dream : she sings To-day ! — I thought and sang of both, and neither won ! 164 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Pittaciis Ah, yes ! This crown they gave her — was it not Once offered you? Alcaeus I sang not for the mob ! They howled for love and wine and rhapsody; And to the songs I make must ever cling Some touch of tears and twilight. It may be That I, Hke Phocus there, was born before My time. So when I saw that I should stand Against a woman, I withdrew ! Pittaciis Withdrew, And let a Sappho win ! It has been said You loved this woman? Alcaeus Sir, she has been loved By many, and because of that, perchance. She is as hard to combat as to win ! Pittacus I fear no woman ! Alcaeus Since you fought with none ! Nay, strike not openly, but undermine SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 165 In secrecy this wall that neither you Nor I can ever scale. Pittacus What mean you? Speak! Alcaeus I mean it has been said this woman's wiles Are strange; she makes our wives forget their homes And young girls who have never loved awake And cry for tender words, and maidens, too. That kissed o'er close, still seek another's mouth; Half -mad with music, makes our women leave Their waiting lovers and creep after her With pleading eyes, and cling about her neck And call her beautiful and passionate names ! And all the w^orld has known that all her songs Are drenched in tumult and with rapture washed. Pittacus Nay, start me not to storming on this string That I have thumbed so often ! She it is Who leads my men away, and plants their spears In colonnades, where rose and meadow-sweet May climb, and little garden-birds may chirp ! She is the author of our idle days. Our festivals of folly crowned with flowers, Our bacchanalian midnights mad with wine l66 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA And song and reeling dance ; our lovers pale And silent in the gloom, who neither laugh Nor move where gleam the white of arms And marbled throats and limbs voluptuous ! Oft have I stumbled on this cyathus That over-runs with fire, and marked the ways Of those who follow her, the fearless laugh. The muffled stir of torches through the leaves, The flight, denial, capture, and the faint Last struggles of some lover lost in sighs And swooning unconcern — and through it all The throbbing of the lyres, the drone and beat Of citharas, the broken woodland chants. The midnight sorceries, where they who weave O'er-sweetened words to music sit and dream By drooping oleanders, flinging lust And enervating passion out across This land of lovers ! Paugh, I hate it all ! Alcaeus Your people should be told, then: " Here is one Who would corrupt the rose of Lesbian youth, Who leaves a blight upon our homes, a taint Upon our island ! " Pittacus Yes; but to what end? SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 167 * Alcaeus That where we idle wait the gods may act ! The seed thus planted quietly shall grow, Shall spread suspicion, and shall pave the way For grim uprootings. When the time is ripe Proclaim the woman for the thing she is ! Phocus I must have slept a wink, and known it not ! {He rises and quietly drinks as the sound of music and chanting voices floats softly up jrom the sea below them) Pittacus Listen, what sound is that? Alcaeus It is the song All Lesbos sings at sunset ! Pittacus All Lesbos sings? Alcaeus The Sailors' Hymn to Sunset it is called; From every harbor where a tired oar drips, l68 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Or rope is tied, or weary anchor dropped, This selfsame music rises from the sea. Phociis (aside, muttering) That is the wide-mouthed rubble that the men Of this mad Lesbos take, and leave unsung My Shepherds' Song to She-Goats, writ by me In pure ^Eolic, in Ionic, too, That ripples like a rill ! (He sighs and sleeps) Pittacus Whence came this song? Alcaeus It comes from Sappho ! Listen ; next to that They call the Song For Lovers, and its mate, The Sailors' Hymn to Sunrise, 'tis most sung. The two men turn towards the Sea, listening. And wonderful it is ! From ship to ship. From cape to misty cape, from wharf to wharf, From harbor-town to headland and still on To harbor-town it rises, eve by eve. It mounts and swings until a chain of song Round Lesbos has been woven ! Phocus stirs and wakens, rubbing his eyes. Then he shows that he is listening to the speakers preoccupied on the cliff. SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 169 Pittacus I thought as much ! This woman stands a menace and a shame — She must be silenced. Alcaeus Then, before I go, Let me one sentence add : 'Twere best to strike At her through Phaon — cut the cypress low, And let the ivy wither, where it lies. Of Phaon's deeds you know: should he go down, Her desperate love for him would spell her own Untimely ruin. Let them fall as one ! Pittacus She has her following, such as it is ! We must strike cautiously. This Phaon boasts That he has talked with goddesses, you say? Alcaeus He is the man who claims Poseidon speaks With him across his gunwale. Still he tells How on a night of storm and rain he found A woman muffled in a gloomy cloak. Waiting without a word beside his boat — Who made a sign, whereat he rowed her out, 170 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Against his will, into the driving spray. And all the while her woman's dreaming eyes Shone out like stars, and through the tempest flashed Her white face like a flame, and filled his heart With fear and wonder. And they reached the land; And she passed silently out through the night, And left no sign or footprint on the sand; And he has claimed she was a goddess. Pittacus {cynically) He May need her help ! Alca^us We boast no goddesses To fight for us, in either love or war; So we must stand prepared, and wait our hour . . . Pittacus And when the time is ripe . . . Alcaeus The gods may act Where we have been most idle. I must go ! (Exit) SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 171 P hocus {peering Uearily after Alcaeus) Now, by the horn of Bacchus, here will be Eryngo-root to spice to-morrow's talk ! {He laughs) But soft — there's one as lean as I am fat. Omaphale creeps in, as he speaks. Her face is color- less, her hair dishevelled. She is about to speak to Pittacus, hut shrinks away, with a gesture of fear and despair. A look of hopelessness is on her face, as she advances toward the cliff-edge. Pittacus {wrapt in thought, unconscious of Inarchus standing so close beside him, in the statue-like im- mobility of the long-trained soldier) The gods may act. . . . And out of hate and love, Entangled and embattled, she may fall. As others fell ! {He sees Omaphale) And there, I take it, walks One of her Maenad band, chalk-faced and frail And rapt of eye, a Bassarid grown sick Of too much love ! Inarchus It is Omaphale ! Pittacus Omaphale ! For something lost she seeks ! 172 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Inarchus What seek you, girl ? Omaphale (abstractedly) The Sea ! Inarchus (bluntly) For Phaon's ship? Omaphale He has been taken from me. . . . No, the Sea Is all they left me. . . . 'Tis the only way ! She shudders and draws back, as she peers from the verge. But oh, I cannot do it ! I am weak ! The water is so far ! The wheeling birds Still make me dizzy ! Oh, it is too hard ! She lowers her hands, looks up at the sky, the cliff, the sea, gazing slowly about her. Then she closes her eyes, and gropes brokenly toward the sea, her hands once more out- stretched. But now, it must be done ! She is on the very verge when Inarchus seizes her. She struggles fiercely as he drags her back. Oh, let me go ! I only ask to die — that, that is all ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 173 Phociis The girl would kill herself ! Omaphale (struggling ) I want to die! Pittacus What is this madness, girl ? (She is silent) What is your name? And why should one so young fight bitterly To go to such a death ! Phocus (sadly) She has been crossed In love, as I in Samnos once was crossed ! Omaphale, wild-eyed and dumb, gazes at them. She breaks away, but is caught by Inarchus. Inarchus What shall I do with her? Pittacus The girl is weak; She shakes and quivers like a captured bird! 174 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A We may have been too rough ! Some woman's hand Should hold her, and a woman's comrade voice Should question with her softly ! Tell me, girl, What happened you? Phocus Ho, here are women now ! Quick, call them you. From me they might construe One word as an advance, and hold me to it ! Erinna, Atthis and Megara, crowned with flowers, have entered while he speaks. They carry musical instruments. Erinna {dropping her cithara) What has this woman done, to be so held? Inarchus Just what she did I know not, but I think She must be mad, for she would throw herself From off the cliff ! Erinna Why, she is but a girl ! Omaphale turns away, with still another effort to reach the cliff-edge. O Atthis, hasten by the Shepherd's Path, and call To Sappho! Exit Atthis SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 175 Phocus Why call for Sappho ? Erinna Knows she not The most assuaging words, the softest tones, To utter to a heart that sorrows wring? Phocus What, Sapphic music at a time like this ! The girl wants wine, good wine, to warm her blood And make her spirits dance ! He offers her his wine-flask, hut the girl turns away, still silent. The girl is mad ! He offers it again. There is no question but the girl is mad ! He drinks, deeply, and replaces flask, with lips smacking. Erinna Oh, see if Sappho comes. Megara 'Tis Atthis calls. She answers; yes, 'tis Sappho. 176 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Atthis {entering^ breathless) She is here. They step back. Sappho enters with an armful of golden samphirej and a lyre oj silver and gilded cedar- wood. She looks from jace to jace. There is a suggestion oj power, oj imperiousness, in her bearing. Sappho Why have you called me, Atthis ? Was it you, Erinna ? Erinna Yes, 'twas I. Sappho, whose eyes had met those of Pittacus, in a steady, combative gaze, now sees Inarchus and his captive for the first time. Sappho What girl is this, And why is she held thus, a prisoner ! P hocus Here is a girl, stark mad, who wants to die — And so all Lesbos bellows out for you ! Sappho For me? But why for me? SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 177 Phocus (mincingly) She has a wound That begs the oil of Sapphic song ! She needs A chain of golden music round her thrown, To charm her back to life. Thus have I seen Phoenician jugglers pipe and soothe an asp To sleep most beautiful ! So, since she will Not drink of wine, let music do its worst ! Sappho Peace, peace; this girl is shaking like a leaf, She has been tortured by more things than fear! Why, child, look up at me ! You are too young To know what sorrow is ! These eyes are still Too soft to peer into the awful Night That never answers us, and never ends ! Sappho kneels and takes the girVs hands, with a sign for Inarchus to release her. Inarchus glances at Pittaciis. The latter nods, as ij in assent. Inarchus holds the girl by only one arm. Phocus Now, by Astarte's eyes, here stands a test ! Here is the first, so called, most eloquent Of Lesbian singers with a pretty task: 178 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA To medicine a grief, to make this girl Content with life, as wine might do for me ! (He drinks) Pittacus You, Sappho, you forever sing of life And of its joys. Let, then, your lyric gift Lure back to love of life this broken girl — Ay, let it stand a test, as Phocus says ! Sappho I seek no triumph, I should ask no test At such a time ! For even Pittacus I could not toy upon a wounded heart ! Pittacus But you will talk with her, will plead with her? Sappho As I would plead with any troubled soul ! Release the maiden — she will not escape. Why, you are nothing but a girl ! Sappho holds the girPs face between her hands, gazing into it. Then she continues to speak, gradually growing oblivious oj those about her. AU life Should mean so much to one who still has youth ! These saddened lips were made for happiness SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 179 And tender words and kisses touched with fire ! Such eyes as these should never mournful seem ! What sorrow is it makes them swim with tears And shakes your slender body? Speak to me What is it that has made all life so dark? Omaphale No longer, now, he loves me. Sappho Tell me more. Omaphale His love is dead, and I must die with it. Sappho No, no; think not because some foolish word Has passed between you — Omaphale Dead, his love is dead; He is another's now ! Sappho But love is love; Although the torch may fall, the sacred fire Endures and burns; the broken dream comes back; l8o SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A The voices of the Spring may pass away, But other Springs shall bear another song And life shall know some newer love ! Phocus (aside) Now, by the horn of Bacchus, here is Song Put into use ! Sappho Nay, speak to me! Omaphale He loves Another ! Let me die ! . . . Sappho {pleadingly J softly) . . . And say farewell To light and warmth and greenness, and go down To some grey world of ghosts you know not of ! Think, think, what life still means . . . think of the joy Of breathing in such beauty, dusk and dawn. Moonbeam and starlight, sun and wind and sea. The marbled cities and the silences, The sting and sweep of the storm on night of rain, The wild surf and the brine-smell and the ship That brings the heart we love, the tangle old SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA i8l Of tears and laughter, rapture and regret, The sheer glad careless god-like going-on From day to golden day, the grapeless wine Of music, dreaming music, to upbuild Ethereal homes for us when we have tired Of too much joy, the throats of song to lift Us out of loneliness and give our tears A touch of beauty, and the last great gift, The gift of Love, that makes death pitiful. And paves the world with wonder ! Omaphale All I asked Was that he love me — and he loves me not ! Pittacus {aside to Inarchus) Behold where Phaon comes, mark well each word That passes here between the two ! Enter Phaon, who stands unnoticed on the outskirts of the preoccupied group. Sappho Tell me The name of him who has forgotten you ! Omaphale I cannot tell ! Sappho Say where he may be found. l82 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Omaphale shakes her head, obdurately. Sappho still looks at her silent face, in wonder. Then you can hate him not? You love him still? Could you not steal unto his couch and plunge A knife into his sleeping heart? And she, The one who came between you — would you kill This cruel woman with her careless smiles ? Omaphale I love this man so much that I would die To see him happy ! Sappho But what man is this Who merits such mad love? Omaphale (looking away and seeing Phaon, in one in- voluntary screa?n) Phaon ! Sappho Why Phaon? What is Phaon unto you? Omaphale O Phaon, tell them that you were, you are, The man I loved . . . tell them ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 183 Sappho {pointing to Phaon) Know you this man ? Pittacus Come, answer quickly, child ! Sappho Know you this man ? Enter Alcaeus, who watches silent and uneasy. Omaphale He was — no, no ; this means some woe I cannot understand. What makes your face So white ? You shrink and quiver and your eyes Are like dead women's eyes ! This means some harm To him ! No, no, / never knew this man! Pittacus You knew him not? Omaphale {the falsehood only too obvious) No ! No ! I knew him not ! {To Alcaeus) You, you can tell them he is innocent ! She starts towards Phaon with outstretched hands, but is held back by the stolid Inarchus. Alcaeus The girl is lying. l84 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sappho Lying? Alcaeus 4 Yes; she says These words to shield the man. Sappho Whatman? Whatman? Pittacus What man would hide and skulk and wait behind A woman's lie? Alcaeus The man who took this girl And loved her till she grew a weariness To him, the man who bore her off to sea Against her will, and found in other lands Another lover . . . Sappho Then his name ! His name ! Alcaeus His name is Phaon. Omaphale No — he took me not Against my will. I loved him, and I went. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 185 Phaon The woman speaks the truth ! I skulk behind No lies; and you, my sweet Alcaeus, you Shall answer for this thing, or — Pittacus Silence ! Sappho {starting hack, shaking) So, This is the truth ! — And this the man I sought ! Phaon {to Alcaeus) Oh, you, you half-way lover of women, you Shall answer for these lies — you Janus-face ! Omaphale {weeping before Pittacus) We went as lovers, sir, as happy lovers ! Sappho This is the truth, indeed, the woman speaks ! Oh, this is more than I can bear ! They went As lovers, till he looked about and found Another lover from another land ! l86 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phocus (wagging his head) If you would shake the tree, then must you sort The fruit ! Omaphale Will you forgive me, Phaon? Sappho Go — Go to your lover ! Go, I give him back To you ! Go there into his arms again ! He waits for you — he is impatient, see ! Phaon Stop — this is mockery ! Sappho See, I have sung You back upon his breast. Look, I have saved You from the Sea, that you may kiss his mouth! Yes ! Yes ! I, I have saved you for this man ! With words as soft as first-born love I brought You back to him ! Most bravely, was it not, Great Pittacus, I cooed and pleaded here, I sounded like a gymnast of the wires. The glory and the wonder of all life ! — But I shall wring your State with no more song, And I shall mouth no more, and plead no more ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 187 She flings her harp flashing and twirling into the Mgean, This is the end of love ! This is the end Of faith in man, in Hfe, in every god That mocks your temples ! Phociis {aside) iEtna, to a turn! Erinna {weeping) O Sappho, come away ! Atthis Oh, come with us! Sappho Yes, I will come with you; the ghost of me Will walk and talk with you — but I am dead ! This man has killed all life, all love, in me, All happiness, all music, and all song ! Phaon Nay, hear me, but a word . . . Sappho Wait, I shall speak! Alcaeus, Phocus, you have wooed me both — l88 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sought me for many years, and day and night Sighed after me ! Behold, I am for sale, For sale to him who takes me where I stand ! I, Sappho, Queen of Song, ay. Queen of Love, The Tenth Muse after whom the others walk, Am I not worth the taking, one of you? Alcaeus (his lean face blanching at her words) And you will hold to this ? Sappho I hold to it ! I hold to anything that crushes him That I have learned to hate ! You fear this man ? Are both of you afraid? Phocus Now, by the horn Of Bacchus, lady, I did love you well — But weeping for it left me scant o' breath ! Phaon, who has snatched out his sword, now turns on the more dangerous and determined Alcaeus. Phaon I care not who he is, but by the gods Of seamen I will spit the first rash fool Who listens to this woman ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 189 Sappho One of you, Which one of you will take me where I stand? Phaon Who does so, first must taste this bitter steel ! Alcaeiis {aside to Phaon) This is no place for brawling ! Phaon {desperately) « What, you still Would woo your old-time love? Alcaeus I stand unarmed — And thank your gods for it ! But meet me here At dawn, and you and I shall fight this out, And I shall kill you ! Phaon Kill me ! I could mow My way through fields of music-tinkler's throats, Dig through a mountain made of poet's hearts, Ay, swim and bathe in chorus-monger's blood. And face a dithyrambic sea of all The lean-gilled singers that have harped through Greece ! 190 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Sappho {distraught) Kill him, Alcaeus, for he killed my joy In life; he killed my hope of happiness; He killed my new and tender love ... he killed The careless singing voices of my heart ! . . . Oh, kill him . . . kill him ... as he killed my soul ! White with jury, she rends and tears her robes, and sinks back exhausted from her jrenzy as the curtain jails. Curtain. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 191 ACT THREE Scene: ihe same as in Act II, early the next morning. Erinna and Atthis^ white and worn with watching^ jace the sea. Erinna See, Atthis, it is morning ! Atthis What a night Of sorrow ! Erinna Like a child she wept and cried For Phaon, and then paced the echoing gloom, And asked if it were cruel thus to kill The man who made her suffer ! Then her wrath Broke forth again, and down on him she called The curses of the gods, then calmer grew, And fell to weeping. Atthis I have sometimes thought Her love was like her music when she sang 192 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA To us at midnight. 'Tis o'er passionate, And seems as deep as life, as dark as death. And wild beyond all words ! In this our world There are two kinds of women: one men seek And desperately love, and some day leave. Or some day meet their death for; likewise one They seek not drunkenly, and yet when known, They labor for, and cleave to, all their years. And fight back from the world's end to rejoin. The eternal mother calm of brow, the one, And one, the eternal lover ! Erinna Sappho has The strength and fire of each ! I love her so I could not see her faults. Atthis She asks too much, And ever gives too much. She is of those Who threaten when they most alluring seem, Who menace even when they yield the most. Volcanic are such women: that same fire Which makes them dangerous and dark and cruel Still leaves them warm and rich and bountiful, And Love creeps closer, presses ever up. Up to the central fires, and mile by mile The soft audacious green of vineyard dares SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 193 The dreaming crater. Then the outbreak comes, And through the red-Hpped lava and the ruin The world remembers ! Erinna Nay, you do her wrong. She bleeds when she is wounded, but her ways Are soft and gentle. Midnight scarce had gone Ere she grew calm and sought Alcaeus out. And called him from his home, and through the gloom Of his walled garden pleaded that he would Be merciful to Phaon. AUhis He, merciful! Erinna Alcaeus said that honor bade him meet The man who challenged him, yet gave his word, His cryptic word, that Phaon should not die, If she but yielded him the little ring Of beaten gold she wore upon her wrist ! Atthis I fear this self-contained and watchful man. Whose words are but a sheath to hide his thoughts. 194 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Erinna I, too, I fear the outcome of it all ! Atthis If Sappho were but here ! Erinna {looking about) And Phocus, too — He should have come to us, an hour ago ! When once her woman's rage has burned away, She will go back to Phaon, for such love As she has known can wither not and die In one short night. Atthis If only Pittacus Would come to Sappho's aid ! Erinna Not Pittacus! Nay, Pittacus is hard and granite cold, His breast is adamant, his hand is steel. And he has dreamed that while this land endures His name and that of Lesbos shall be linked ! He wills that on each temple " Pittacus " Shall be inscribed in letters all of gold; And bitter in his mouth has been the praise SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 195 Of Sappho; he has grown to hate her name, Yet fears to act. But he may make this night A pretext . . . See, 'tis Phocus come at last. Enter Phocus, panting Phocus Ho, what a climb ! Had I not stumbled on A snoring herdsman with a wine-sack full Of better life than his, I should be prone Beside the City Wall ! Oh, what a chmb ! Erinna But quick, what news? Phocus News? News enough to swamp A galley ! Pittacus is on his way ; Alcaeus by the herd-path also comes. And Mytilene crowds upon the heels Of Sappho, caterwauling ribald song, And growling curses back upon the Guard ! And Phaon, it is said, was put in arms. And then again was not, and still again 'Tis held he was deported in the night. And still, once more, again, that Pittacus Has issued mandates there shall be no fight — 196 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A While others whisper Phaon hurries forth To meet Alcaeus and fight out his fight Before 'tis known of ! Erinna {at the sound of singing) Listen I Hear you not ? — The Sailor's Hymn to Sunrise? Atthis Yes, I hear ! Phocus But I have further tidings ! First, a sip O' herdsman's comfort ! — Pittacus, 'tis said. Commands these men must neither meet nor fight. He knows his words are useless — mark you that ! But purposes to wait, and make no move Till this fine-feathered, anchor-fouling, swart, Hot-headed son o' brine called Phaon comes, As he will surely come, and bleats and yawls For clash o' swords. Thereat the waiting Guard Shall clap him into irons; the charge to be Attempt at murder on a citizen, The penalty whereof, and mark you this, Is exile ! Erinna Atthis, I must go at once And seek out Sappho : she must know of this ! SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 197 Phocus Nay, wait till I unload ! 'Tis whispered round That yester-night the Council secretly Decreed that Phaon and Omaphale Should in the streets be married, publicly ! Now, once in Samnos . . . Erinna {to Atthis) Wait on my return ! Exit Erinna Phocus (swelling with importance) And mark you this: the less your Sappho says Concerning what has been, or is to be, The better with you all ! For Pittacus And lean Alcaeus tooth and nail are set On her undoing. Mark you that again ! Atthis It shall not be. No; she and happiness Must walk together. She must live to sing And make life beautiful with music still ! Phocus To sing? Ay, there's the long and short of it ! (He drinks from his flagon) 198 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA What song is there in these besotted days? A life most scandalous, and then a trick O' mouthing vowels, then a wanton youth And green-sick maid or two to syllable Your milk-and-water sorrows, warble out Your lecherous odes, and, ho, you have a poet ! AUhis A poet who is fat and full of words ! Fhocus (swaggering) Now Pittacus has told me, man to man, When seeking of my counsel, that our tunes Have turned too amorous, and must be stopped. And I'm behind him in it ! You talk of song, But once in Samnos was a lean old man Who strung across a shark's jaw on a box — AUhis See, see; they come . . . And Sappho is not here! Enter Alcaeus, armed, attended by only a young servant, Alcaeus He is not here, this man that vowed to face A sea of lilied singers. SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 199 Phocus Fear you not ! This hot-eyed tunny out of Pluto's ditch Is foaming, lashing, frothing hitherward Along the Shepherd's Path (The sun rises) . . . And as he sware He breaks upon us with the rising sun. Enter Phaon, followed by a handful of Lesbian sailors; sunburned, graceful, light-hearted fellows, but now watchful and furtive-eyed. Phaon At dawn it was to be. Well, it is dawn. He whips out his sword, almost gaily, tries its edge on his thumb, and wheels about. Alcaeus, nervous and unstable, not yet sure of his ends, faces his opponent. Alcaeus One w^ord, before this fight begins . . . Phaon Words! Words! I want no words ! My life to-day is worth A minnow's ransom ! There's a narrative In naked steel comes nearer to my wish Than words ! 200 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Alcaeiis But things there are that we must say By word of mouth. Still let judicial steel . . . Phaon (shortly) These words, then, if you must: I have been told We two are destined not to fight this fight; That one who much esteems you will step in And stop this combat, as you stand informed ! Alcaeus This is not true ! Phaon {determined) Then show it to be false ! Quick ! I shall brook no quibble or delay ! Fight ! Fight, I charge you ! Quick, defend yourself ! Alcaeus {aside to servant) The Guard ! What keeps the Guard ! {To Phaon) But I would know For what we two are fighting here? Phaon For what? You know full well — a woman ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 201 Alcaeus Then, we fight For issues closed ! This woman came to me. Phaon To you? So soon? Within a night? Alcaeus Within A night, since you have said it ! Phaon Liar ; still You swim in lies ! Alcaeus And gave this band of gold To be a token — Look well over it ! Phaon looks at the wrist-hand, incredulous; Alcaeus ^ thus gaining time, peers out anxiously, aivaiting Pittacus and the Guards. Phaon (quivering) Ha ! Now ; yes, now we fight ; we doubly need To know which man must die ! We doubly need To know how stand the gods, if this be true ! No more of empty words ! Come, fight it out ! 202 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Alcaeus, about to expostulate, finds no time jor words. Phaon, advancing, compels him to fight. The crowd draws closer, in an irregular circle, with groans and cheers as the short-bladed swords clash and strike. Foot by foot Alcaeus is forced back. It is obvious that Phaon is driving him towards the cliff-edge. He is foiled in this by the sudden en- trance of Pittacus, breathless, followed by his Guard. The huge Inarchus strikes down the sword of Alcaeus, who is already cut on the arm. Phaon, seized from behind, still slashes with his sword. Pittacus What brawl is this that stains our Lesbian peace? A Voice A fight for a woman ! Another Voice Let them fight it out ! A Citizen 'Twas Phaon forced him to it ! A Sailor Fight it out ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 203 A Citizen He fell upon him ! A Citizen Ay, he up with sword And at him Hke a Fury ! Have it out ! A Sailor They fight in honest combat ! Have it out ! A Citizen Alcaeus was compelled to draw ! A Sailor You lie; He came at dawn to meet this man. Pittaciis Be still ! Who sought a Lesbian's life shall pay for it. Guards, put this man in chains, and hold him close. The hoplites seize and manacle the struggling Phaon. The sailors crowd close, but dare not interfere. Pitfacus (aside to Alcaeus) The gods have acted . . . With my second blow We shall be masters ! And this man you hate Will go from Lesbos stained in thought and name. 204 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Alcaeus Omaphale — you hold her close ? Pittacus We hold Her close, assuredly. The girl must stand The column of our acts. This Sappho heads An army without arms, that secretly Opposes, threatens, thwarts me. Here, to-day, It shall be brought to issue. We shall learn What hand rules Lesbos still — and more there is In this, than but a fooKsh woman's fall! Alcaeus Then, I were best away. Pittacus Go, have your wound Attended, for excuse. (Aloud) But, stop; were you Assaulted by this man ? Alcaeus (showing wounded arm) This speaks for me ! Sappho enters, panting, her face pale. She is followed by Erinna and a group of Lesbians, bearing sickles and grape-knives. SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 205 Pittacus Assault it was. Sappho {authoritatively. Her gaze has been on Phaon) Why is this man in chains? Pittacus He broke a law of Lesbos. Sappho (tauntingly) Did he drink - A sip of wine? Or sing a happy chord Of shepherd music? Phocus Shepherd music ! Oh ! Oh ! Shepherd music ! That was good ! 'Twas more Like spouting sulphur crowned with Typhon's fire ! Pittacus {judicially, realizing the people before him must be convinced oj the justness of his action) This man defied the State and broke the peace Of Lesbos, and must suffer. I have sought To make this island one of temperate ways, And late and early I have strained and toiled To reach this end. Its wastrel years have left Its name a by-word on the lips of Greece, 206 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA And not until its must-vats are no more, And all its vaults of flagoned indolence Are emptied, and its vineyards are destroyed, And all its simpering harps made into swords, Shall we dare hope to be a State again ! Sappho {defiantly) Then, it is worse to crush a thousand grapes, O, man of war, than twice a thousand lives? Quick, Phocus, give me of your wine to drink To one who knows his Lesbos ! That puts blood. Good Lesbian blood, in me ! Yet we had thought 'Twas Bacchus who once called this island " home," And blessed our vines ! We thought Methymna saw The harp of Orpheus float to Lesbian shores. The god's own head washed high upon our sands — And from the dead mouth sounds of music creep And crown our island with its gift of song ! The Lesbians That is the truth ! Shepherds Our Sappho speaks the truth! Sappho Rail not at wine ! When Athens threatened us, And sentineled our shores, and sail by sail SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 207 Shut off the Sea, and flung our ramparts down And left us huddled close, without defence, And all our cattle died for w^ant of rain. And drought drove all our people from the hills, And Lesbos had no water, none to lave The dying, none to give unto the sick, And none to mix the waiting lime and sand Whereof to build a wall against the foe — Mark you the tale — ■ 'twas from the sunburnt hills Our fathers tore the abundant grapes, and crushed The precious liquor from them, vat by vat. And mixed their mortar, and threw up their walls And fought the Athenians back into the Sea ! Nay, rail no more at wine, chaste Pittacus ! The Lesbians And that is truth ! Still Sappho speaks the truth ! Pittacus To-morrow, then, shall turn it to a lie ! Sappho My people, listen close ! This man of war, This man who walks in steel and sleeps in stone, While we are ramparted by rustling leaves And love and careless flow^ers, this same man Who would make fortresses of garden walls, And grape-fields into flashing battlegrounds, 2o8 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Who would turn amphora and urn and bowl To sword and pike and helmet — he would leave Our towns no longer thronging-masted marts, But tankards of dissension and of blood ! He would upon the lamb drape lion-skins, And have us known for what we can not be ! Pittacus No — have us known not as we now are known ! Sappho He to the kilns would fling our carven faims And to the fire our stately marbles give — Our chiselled dreams that cannot draw a sword, Our Parian mutes that may not bear a pike! — And make them into lime for arsenal walls, And school us how to loa the a purple grape ! Wine — Wine ! This island sings on, floats on, wine f Wine roofs our homes, an d feeds our hungry mouths ; Our galleys freight it to the thirsty world, It makes the sorrowful no longer sad; It leaves pain unremem bered, makes us seem The equal of the gods ; the aged, young ; The sickly, well; the silent, full of song; The parted lover grieve not for his love ! It is a secret god who stoops to make Us rich with music ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 209' Phocus {aside) Now, by the horn, her words At last are wisdom ! Pittacus Stop, enough of this ! There shall be parted lovers that no wine May comfort . . . Let the prisoner stand forth. Sappho {desperately — in a mad torrent of defiance) And this is wisdom, this the heart and core Of that calm highest fruitage that you flaunt Upon your thought-fed tree of knowledge ! Oh, It maddens me ! These icy grandeurs make Me like a Maenad, make me storm and rage And wonder how the ruddy blood of life Could run so slow and pale ! You never laugh And never weep, men say. . . . You never know The meaning and the glory of the morn, The passion and the pathos of the dusk, The rapture and the wonder of all life ! You are a burnt-out kiln, a river-bed Of aching emptiness, a dried-up vat, A hearth without a fire, a thing of bones ! You have not found the secret and the swxep Of Music, learned the meaning of the Spring, Or known its soft renewals born of love 2IO SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A And sorrow ! You have never watched the Sea Without some miser's thought of tax and toll, Nor bent above the crimson of the rose Without some rapine thought of battle-fields ! Though you should live till your last hair is white. And I and this same man you hold in chains Should die this moment ... we have known of life And earth far more than you could ever know ! A cry oj approval breaks from the people. Pittaciis Enough of this ! Am I a king of sots ? Our cities and our veins have come to flow With watery wine instea d of good red blood ! We are Sidonian idlers of the night Who pay out gold to have our fighting done By soldiers bred abroad. We are a land That women lead, who strum on droning gut And pipe through foolish tubes along our fields For years untilled, our roads all left unpaved, Our towns and harbors still unfortified. We sit and loiter by the walls that lean No longer mended, and ungathered wait The olive-crops while broken lutes are patched And some new song is learned. Now it must cease! Sappho He says, my people, we must sing no more. SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 21 1 Lesbians And breathe and eat no more ! Phocus {aside) And drink no more? Pittacus I am a patient man, and just, I think. I seek to find the light, and sometimes learn Through error, and advance through unbelief. In things imperial I have been taught To heed my people's wishes, and to yield — But on one base I stand immovable; And now I charge you with its final truth: The State, that learns to act, endures and lives; But one that sits and drones away its nights In wine and amorous dreams, must die oj it I Phaon Yet here two men would act: and one you hold In chains — and you a lover of the strong ! But let me at him, and I'll leave him there As swine-fat for your chariot's axletree ! Sappho Yes, one you hold in chains, and say not why ! 212 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Pittacus What I have done was done for Lesbos* sake. Sappho {to the people) Who has done most for Lesbos, Pittacus Or Sappho? The People Sappho ! Sappho ! Sappho Who has taught You to be happy? The People Sappho it has been ! Sappho What are my sins, then, that you strike at me Thus covertly, and put this man in chains? She steps towards Phaon, who turns away from her, with a gesture of repudiation. Pittacus {seizing his chance) Is this man aught to you? SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 213 Sappho {slowly, after a silence) The man is naught to me ! Pittacus Then what he suffers must be naught to you ! Sappho {dazed) And what I suffered, too, is naught to him ! Pittacus {more assured, realizing Sappho^ s bewilderment) Your sins are those of Lesbos, that must cease. Sappho And when two lovers kiss, I am the cause? Pittactcs Enough ! I say you are a bHght and shame To Lesbos, and this man who lived so deep Has lived not in the law. Let him stand forth. You are exiled. In seven days a ship Shall leave this harbor, going forth at night; And under guard you shall go forth with it From Lesbos, and on pain of death return ! Sappho Exiled ! He, Phaon, is exiled from home ! 214 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Pittacus The people of this isle shall speak of you As of the dead. Sappho (rebelliously) My people, have you heard? Erinna O Sappho, say no more, lest some new blow Upon you fall ! Sappho Why should I fear a man Who stands in fear of me? {To Erinna) Now shall I taunt Him till he sends me forth at Phaon's side ! Pittacus (nettled into anger) What man is this who fears you? The people cheer for Sappho, and crowd closer, hut the hoplites hold them hack with drawn swords, circling ahout their Tyrant. Sappho {heatedly) 'Tis a man Named Pittacus, who rules by hate and fear And guile — whose guards, see, even now must hold SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 21 5 His subjects back with naked swords ! A king That Athens calls the Fish-Net Fighter since He bore beneath his arm a hidden seine And when he fought with Phryno cast his net About the stronger man, enmeshed his sword, And like a harbor-sweeper, gilled and caught And claimed his sickly conquest. . . . We were free To choose our lovers and our leaders once, And sing when we were happy ! Lesbians, Here is a man that Pittacus has said Shall into exile go ! And I have said He is unjustly sent and shall not go I Which shall it be, my people? There is a cry or two of " Pittacus " from the waiting guards J followed hy a roar of exultant " Sappho! " " Sappho! " Pittacus pales at the sound, and motions to Inarchus. Pittacus Guards, stand forth ! {Aside to Inarchus) I must act quick, or all can still be lost ! This woman is a tigress, lashing bars Her fury yet may break. One whip I have Reserved until the end, one brand of fire To beat her back. You hold in readiness This girl, Omaphale. When I shall give The signal, let her stand before the crowd ! 2l6 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Inarchus The trull shall be produced ! Sappho Behold the king Who casts his people forth without a trial. Pittacus {wheeling) This woman lies ! No Lesbian has known His wrath without just cause ! Sappho Then tell us why This man in chains is exiled ! Pittacus Since he sought A Lesbian's hfe. Sappho That worthy Lesbian In turn sought his. Pittacus Enough of this; he forced The fight upon Alcaeus ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 21 7 Sappho Lies ! All lies ! 'Twas /, / forced this fight upon them both ! I bent them to my will; I harried them, And thrust and drove them at each other's throats ! I was the arm behind their lifted sword; I was the rage behind their cries of hate ! And you, who talk of justice, you who turn To smite the path, and let the serpent go, You shrink and wait behind your sullen guard, And dare not act ! Pittacus {enraged) Act, act I shall! You hear This woman's words? From her own mouth she stands Accused, arraigned, convicted of her crime ! Sappho Nay, not a woman, but the mangled husk, The trampled marc, of one ! Pittacus You are exiled/ A murmur rises from the crowd. 2l8 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sapplio (aside) 'Tis come, Erinna ! He and I shall go Out to the lonely places of the world, And learn to live again. . . . Great Pittacus, I thank you for this banishment ! It means Release, re-birth, to me ! I glory in it ! Pittacus Ay, glory in it, for behold, you win ! You override my word, and doubly win ! You said this Phaon here should not be sent From Lesbos. Then in Lesbos he remains ! You shall be listened to. . . . Your word is law ! Release this man, her vow leaves innocent. 'Tis she who goes from Lesbos, and at dusk! 'Tis she who now shall watch across the spray The failing lights, the slowly sinking hills. The home that is to her no longer home ! Sappho Alone into the world ... yet not alone. For where Love is shall be no banishment. And where Love waits and walks no loneliness ! Pittacus Entombed and coffined from this day you are. And we shall speak of you as of the dead ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 219 Sappho Oh, Phaon, did you hear? Time was you turned And fought for me, at words like this ! Phaon Time was . I loved you, too ! Sappho Time was you loved me, too ! Phaon You flung that love away ! Sappho No; no; it seemed Not mine . . . and for the moment I was not Myself ... it drove me unto madness. Phaon {raging) Drove You unto madness . . . then unto the man You met at midnight in his garden's gloom ! Is that not true? Sappho Yes; that is true. 220 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon You sought The buyer e'en before the price was paid ! Sappho Stop! Phaon Stop ? Why should I stop ? Have you once stopped When passion drove you into other arms ? — You palmer- worm that feeds on passion, then Advances in a night to newer fields ! Oh . . . Phaon ! Sappho Phaon . . . When it took you forth at night To seek Alcaeus, when you whirled your wrath About me like a flail, for having known A girl, and told you not ! Sappho {panting) This . . . this from you ! I have forgiven much. . . . But now there is A bourne past which I cannot go, a depth To which I dare not stoop ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 221 Phaon (bitterly) And yet you stooped And crept to your Alcaeus ! ' Sappho Phaon ! Stop ! 'Twas love of you, 'twas foolish love of you, That took me to him. Phaon Then must love of him Take you from me ! Sappho I love him not ! Phaon (laughing bitterly) You love Then neither him, nor me, nor any man To whom you sold your kisses? Sappho Oh . . . Enough! Phaon Enough ? More than enough ! To me you are A corpse corrupting, something hateful grown, A woman who has passed away — dead, dead To me! 222 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sappho I . . . dead to you? Pittacus {stepping forward) And dead you are To Lesbos and the people that your days Have smirched and slavered, like a serpent's trail ! Sappho turns, in a mounting frenzy, toward the murmur- ing crowd, her speech growing ever more and more hnpassioned. You hear, my people, you with whom I sang And lived and loved and sorrowed — I shall be But as the dead to you? Erinna (wailing) No ; Sappho, no ! The crowd take up the cry, until it becomes a roar. They advance on the armed hoplites, shouting defiance, with cries of " Sappho! " " Sappho! " The guard close in, grim and silent, ready for the final stand or charge. The Lesbians She shall not go ! SAPPHO 7.Y LEUCADIA 223 Other Lesbians No, she is one of us ! Other Lesbians Long live the age of love ! l^he Sailors Let's fight for it ! The hoplites are borne back by the force of the crowd, Inarchus stands ready, awaiting a sign from Pittacus. A Sailor The sea ! The sea for Pittacus and all His tribe ! A Lesbian Ay, fling them o'er the cliff ! A Sailor Put down The Tyrant ! A Lesbian Put an end to tyranny ! Pittacus signals to Inarchus, and the girl Oniaphale is dragged forward through the crowd. She stands 224 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA there, white and fragile, a slender barrier between the two bands of combatants. Sappho, remembering, becomes almost statuesque in her immobility. Pitta- cus, seizing the moment, leaps fearlessly into the crowd. Pittacus Is this the Kingdom, this the Age of Love You usher in? Behold this broken girl, A maid deserted for the Queen of Song You clamor of; a girl unwed and wronged By him, this flashing Phaon of the seas, This empty shell, this sabre of a man ! . . . Sappho Cease ! Pittacus . . . Whom she raged and stormed and plotted for . . . Sappho Cease ! Pittacus . . . Whom she honeyed, humored, played you for . . Sappho Cease ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 225 Pittacus . . . Whom she bound and blinded with her love, Whom she has gripped and held from this wronged girl, Whom still she shakes the columns of this State To ding to, since our Council has decreed That Phaon and this girl Omaphale In public shall be wed, as is the law ! Erinna Wait, Sappho — plead with Phaon ; plead with him For but a word, to make this folly clear ! Sappho I, plead with Phaon? And relate how I Have loved him hopelessly, and once forgave His wandering, and wooed him back to her. From exile, and would sing their marriage ode, And humbly ask a word on why he cleaves To earlier lovers ? . . . Oh, this is the end ! Sappho^ s fury now amounts to a white heat as she speaks. It disregards the issue at hand; it disregards the people awaiting her word; it is the last hitter cry of a woman broken by fate. I hate this man called Phaon, hate him . . . hate Him as the living hate the thought of Hell ! 226 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA And where he goes, or whom of all his loves He weds ... is naught to me ! Go, marry him, Meek, white-faced child . . . and learn how men are false, And how the world is built on lies . . . and how This thing called Love is but a hollow lie, And Hope is but a He, and Happiness The crowning lie of all your world of lies ! Erinna and AUhis, on either side, support her quivering body. Quickly the disordered guard re- forms into a solid line. The people jail hack, murmuring but bewildered, while Sappho starts up, involuntarily, as Phaon is crowded hack and turns away with Omaphale at his side. Sappho (weakly) Yet Phaon, it was all for you ... for you ! Oh, do not go without a look, a word ! Pittacus, at this cry of the humbled and broken woman, is sure of his victory, and at once signals to Inarchus and his men. Phaon hesitates and turns to Sappho, but the levelled spears of the guard are before him. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 227 FiUacus This last word must be mine! It calls the chains To bind this woman, who all time is dead To Lesbos ! Guards, surround the prisoner. Sappho, rising and towering above them in her last su- preme outburst oj indignation and passion, ecstatic in her rage. I, dead to Lesbos ! Tyrant, I am one Who broods and wanders here as long as waves Wash on your island's shore ! Drive back the sea, — But dream not you have driven Sappho forth To be forgotten ! Where a lover waits Beside a twilit grove, I shall be there ! I, where he woos a woman, / shall breathe Out through his lips ! Yes, where a singing girl Goes with her heavy pitcher to the spring At earliest dawn, I shall beside her walk. And at the well-curb I shall wait for her ! When sailors lift their sails, 'tis I shall breathe Across the waves to them ! When man and maid Are joined in one, my voice shall chant their hymn ! And where the olive-pickers in the sun Together sing, I shall be in their midst ! And where a net is dipped, the beryl waves Shall break in little murmurs with my name ! And where the goat-herd tends his flock, and croons 228 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA The songs that once were mine, and where the men Who shape the timbers in the shipyard's din Make labor glad with music, / shall hve ! Yes, where a youth still loves, a girl still waits, /, Sappho, I shall not have passed away I Curtain SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 229 ACT FOUR The scene is the same as in Act One, on the cliffs of Leu- cadia. It is one year later, close to the hour of sunset. The rising curtain discloses Erinna and an old Soothsayer, muffled and cloaked. As the curtain goes up he is stooping over the bronze fire-basin set in marble, stained and blackened with smoke. Erinna sits watching. Erinna But are you man or woman? Soothsayer Neither. Man I used to be ! But much of me has died ! Erinna How long have you been bh"nd ? Soothsayer {bitterly) It seems to me That I have been a blind man from my birth. 230 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Erinna Yet by the drifting flame and flight of birds You have foretold the future, and worked cures Where other charms have failed? Soothsayer Ay, by the flight Of birds, by smoke, by cocks devouring corn, By winds, by meteors, by red-hot iron. By divers entrails, and the drip of wax In water, I have many wonders worked ! He gropes and feels about the altar, nervously. What is it, maiden, that you wish to know? Erinna First tell me, what am I? Soothsayer (peering into space) I seem to see A thrush that crouches by a nightingale, Yet neither sings. Erinna But once I used to sing. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 23I Soothsayer You are a singer, eh? When I was young I knew a man of Leucas who would take A hollow shin-bone pierced with many vents And play us cunning tunes. In Lesbos, too, I heard a girl called Sappho sing . ,. . Erinna Heard Sappho ! Soothsayer Ay, the Tenth Muse after whom The older Nine once walked ! Erinna Yes, yes; I know — Sir, it is for a sister that I ask This augury. Soothsayer What has befallen her? Erinna She is sick In heart. Soothsayer Aught else? 232 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Erinna And most unhappy. Soothsayer Ah, Unhappy ! Has she loved, or has she known A man unworthy her? Erinna Such man she knew! And now the loneliness of all the world Weighs on her soul and turns her troubled dreams To olden days and dark imaginings. Soothsayer And now her love is dead? Erinna That would I know. She mourns by day, and never speaks his name, But in the night she weeps and cries to him And through her dreams his name forever sounds. Yet when she wakes her heart seems dead again. And hour by hour she broods beside the sea. Soothsayer Thinks she this lover dead? SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 233 Erlnna He is not dead. Soothsayer How could she know he is not dead? Erinna I sent To Lesbos and made sure he hves. Soothsayer And when You told her of it? Erinna Then she neither wept Nor laughed nor spake ! Soothsayer She must have suffered deep ! Erinna O tell me how much longer it will last, And what will come of it ! Soothsayer Take then this seed And cast it on the flame. 234 SAPPHO IN LEUCADJA Erinna What seed is it? Soothsayer Sea-fennel mixed with myrrh. But was it cast? Erinna goes to the altar and casts the seed on the smoul- dering fire. Erinna 'Tis on the flame. Soothsayer The smoke . . . how does it rise? Erinna It rises in a column, thin and straight. Soothsayer And still so rises? Erinna No . . . for now it drifts And wavers, in a broken cloud. Soothsayer Enough ! Now take this sparrow. Hold it in your hand, And face the east. . . . Now let the bird go free ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 235 Erinna 'Tis free ! 'Tis gone ! Soothsayer How has it flown? Erinna It flew Beyond the cliffs ! 'Tis lost within the Sea ! What can such things portend ? The Soothsayer is silent, wrapt in thought. What do they mean ? Soothsayer It means good news, and bad. ... Go you and bring This woman to me ... I must speak with her 1 Erinna Then gently, speak to her the darker news; Oh, give her peace — for she has need of it ! {Exit) Soothsayer {disclosing himself as Phaon) This is the hour where life and death divide, Where all the rivers of the world hold back And wait some new beginning ... or the end \ 236 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA O Aphrodite, you who leaned across My oar with luminous eyes and filled the gloom With glory, help me, help me in this hour ! Sappho enters, slowly, with Erinna. Sappho is robed in white, and on her hair is a heavy crown of dark violets, making paler her pale face. She does not look towards Phaon — her dreamy gaze is bent on the Sea. Sappho What sail is that? I thought I knew each ship That passes here ! Erinna 'Tis one from Lesbos come. Sappho From Lesbos ! Lesbos ! O how frail a thing To face so many seas, to creep so far From home ! I wonder if its timbers thrill And ache for Lesbos now? If through its keel Some wordless anguish burns, when e'er the name Of Lesbos comes to it ... as in my heart ! Erinna This prophet fares from Lesbos, and would speak With you alone ! {Exit) SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 237 Sappho slowly turns and studies the soothsayer, who rejnains cloaked. The sunlight falls clear and gold on the two figures. Sappho (murmurs) This sail from Lesbos fares ! Phaon Ay, from the land that cast Alcaeus out, A broken exile, into Sicily; The land that once was known as Sappho's isle, And shall again be hers. Sappho What man are you? Phaon One who would wait and seek you out beyond The uttermost unkeeled domains of Night ! Sappho Who . . . Phaon One who comes to bear you home again, Still crowned with ivy and wild olive as You came from Athens ! 238 SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A Sappho Phaon ! Phaon Sappho ! Sappho Oh, Why have you followed me ? Why have you come To this grey land that is my Underworld Of ghosts and dreams ? Phaon To take you home again ! Sappho It is too late ! Phaon Nay, you have been recalled — I bear the Lesbian Council's word to bring You out of exile ! Lesbos cried for you Till Pittacus himself was forced to bow Unto their clamor ! Athens also rose And said you should return. . . . And I, Who loved you once, and love you evermore, Now plead with you to come. SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 239 Sappho (musingly) It is too late ! Dear hills of sun and gloom and green . . . soft hills That I shall see no more ! Phaon Nay, Sappho, come — They wait and ask for you, but not as I. They beg the glad bird-throated girl they crowned With violets, the Voice they listened to At twilight when the brief day's work was done. I beg the woman who made all my world A dusk of warmth and rapture . . . her to whom My lonely heart has yearned ! Sappho (looking up) Omaphale — Where waits Omaphale? Where are the loves You laughed and whispered to this many a year? Phaon There is but one great love in any life, The rest are ghosts, to mock its memories. All through the weary months I wanted you, Cried out for you, and had to come to you ! 240 SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Sappho {slowly) And had to come to me ! And wanted me ! Phaon Great wrong I wrought you, but I was deceived, And deeply I have suffered ! Sappho Suffered? When? Phaon The loss of you , . . the ache and emptiness Of one who knew all love, and is denied; The torture of the days that are no more; The terror and the anguish born of ways That one great love illumed, that one lost voice Still like a fading lute with sorrow haunts ! Turn not away o . . look at me, Sappho, c . . Come, Come back with me where still the singing girls Laugh, ruddy-ankled, round the Lesbian vats. And every hill and lowland is your home, And deep throats from the laden galleys sing By night of love and women as of old ! Sappho {still wrapt in thought, wistfully) How far away those twilight voices are ! SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 24 1 Phaon But still they chant your words, and wait for you, And down the solemn Dorian scale the pipes Wander and plead, and note by note still wake With soft ^olian rapture. Still come back Where droning flute and harp shall drowse away This wordless hunger that has paled your face, Where every lover knows your music still, And every meadow keeps your voice alive, Where lonely cliffs reach out their arms for you .... Come back, and be at rest ! Sappho O island home Where we were happy once ! Phaon And shall again Be happy, where the golden vetch is thick Along the cliffs, and cool the ohve-groves, And all the shadowy fir-lands and the hills Lean tender purple to folia's coast, And all the harbor-lights still wait and watch, Like weary eyes, for you to come again ! Sappho Yes, well I know them where their paths of gold Once lay like wavering music on the sea ! 242 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon And there like wine made sweet with honey, life Shall flow reluctantly ! Sappho O sea-washed home Where we, so long ago, were happy once ! Phaon I brought a sorrow to that home, I know — But I have suffered for it, and have learned How all the paths of all the oceans lead To you — you — you ! Sappho Oh speak not thus to me - It is too late, my Phaon. 'Twas your hand That crushed the silver goblet of my heart. And now the wine is spilt; the page is read, And from the tale the earlier glory gone; The torch has failed amid the falling dusk, The dream has passed, and rapture is a word Unknown to my sad heart, and music sounds Mournful as evening bells on lonely seas. Phaon But Lesbos calls, and still you will not hear; Our home is waiting, and you will not come ! SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 243 Sappho Lightly you loved me, Phaon, long ago; And there were other arms unknown to me That folded over you, though none more fond Than mine that fell so wing-like round your head. And there were other eyes that drooped as mine Despairingly before your pleading mouth. Phaon " I have loved oft and lightly that, at last, I might love you ! " Can you remember not ? Sappho But many were the nights I wept, and learned How sorrowful is all divided love, How we who give too often . . » never give^ How one voice must be lost, and being lost, May be remembered most. Phaon But you alone It was, pale-throated woman, that I loved ! Through outland countries have I seen your eyes, And like a flower through all my perilous ways Your face has gone before me, and your voice Beyond dim islands and mysterious seas 244 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Has drawn me to you, calling from the dunes Where Summer once hung low above our hands, And we, as children, dreamed to dreaming waves, And all the world seemed made for you and me ! Sappho It is too late; the wine of life is spilt. The shore-lark of our youth has flown away, And all the Summer vanished. One brief year Ago I could have gone to any home, A wanderer with you o'er troubled seas; And slept beside your fire content, and fared Still on again between green hills and strange, And echoing valleys where the eagled pines Were full of gloom, and many waters sang, — Still on to some low plain or highland coign Remembered not of men, where we had made Our home amid the music of the Spring, Letting life's twilight sands glide thro' the glass So golden-slow, so glad, no plaintive chime Could e'er be blown to us across the dusk. From Life's grey towers of many-tongued regret ! Then I had been most happy at your side, Easing my exiled heart with homely thoughts And turning these sad hands to simple things. In our low oven that should gleam by night SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 245 Baking my wheaten loaves, and with my wheel Spinning the milky wool, and light of heart Dipping my brazen pitcher in the spring That bubbled by our door. And then, perchance, (O anodyne for all dark-memoried days !) To feel the touch of little hands, and hold A child — your child and mine — close on this breast, And croon it songs and tunes quite meaningless Unto the bosom where no milk has been — Yes, fonder than the poolside lutings low Of dreaming frogs to their Arcadian god ! There had I borne to you a sailor folk, A tawny-haired swart brood of boys, as brave As mine old Phaon was, cubbed by the sea And buffeted by wind and brume; and I, On winter nights when all the waves were black, In musing wise had told them tales and dreams Of Lesbian days, e'en though the words should sound To my remembering heart, so far from home, As mournful as the wind to imprisoned men; — Old tales they should re-tell long ages hence Unto their children's children by the fire When loud the dark South- West that brings the rain Moaned round their walls ! And in more happy days By some pale golden summer moon, when dim The waters were — mysterious eves of dusk And music, stars, and silence and regret — 246 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Singing into my saddened heart should come Soft thoughts, to bloom in words as roses break And blow and wither and are gone; and we Reckless of time, should waken not and find Our hearts grown old, but evermore live on As do the stars and Earth's untroubled trees, While seasons came, like birds, and went again, — Though Greece and her green islands were no more, And all her marbled power should pass away. And empires, like an arch, should crumble down, And kings should live and die, and one by one Like flames their lofty cities should go out ! Phaon Your voice still falls on my dry heart like dew ! I hear you speak, and know not what you say, For like a bell your name swings through my dreams ! And all my being throbs and cries for you ! Come back with me; but come, and I will speak A thousand gentle words for each poor tear That dimmed your eyes ! Come back, and I will crown Your days with love so enduring it shall light The eternal stars to bed ! Sappho Ask me no more, — I warmed the whimpering whelps of Passion once In this white breast of mine — but, now, full grown, SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 247 They seem to stalk me naked through the world ! Too fond I now should bend unto the fierce Necessity of bliss, and in each glow Of golden anguish yearn forever toward Some quiet gloom where we can never walk 1 These feet of mine have known too many homes To claim one door, and close it on the world ! This bosom now is hot as ^Etna's, torn And seared with fires that long since passed away! Yet had you only loved me, as I asked — How humble I had been, how I had tried From this poor broken twilight to rebuild The Dream, and from its ashes to restore The Temple ! Phaon But I loved you then, and love You now ! The torn plume of the wing I take, The ruined rose, and all the empty cruse; Here I accept the bitter with the sweet, The autumnal sorrow with the autumnal gold; Tears shall go unregretted, and much pain Gladly I take, if grief, in truth, and you Can still come hand in hand to me. Sappho No! No! For good were life if every lonely bough Could lure again its vanished nightingale ! 248 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA — If all that luting music of first love Could be recalled down years grown desolate ! Lightly they sing who love and are beloved; And men shall lightly listen; but the heart That has been broken and must hide its wound In music, is remembered through the years ! It was not much I asked in those old days — For men have wider missions than we know. 'Tis not, thro' all their moods, they hunger for Our poor pale faces. As a flame at sea They seek us in the fog, and then forget. 'Tis when by night the battle-noise has died; 'Tis when the port is won, and wind and storm Are past; 'tis when the heart for solace aches; 'Tis when they stop to rest in darkling woods, Or under alien stars the fire is lit. And when regret makes deep some idle hour. Then would we have our name sing throbbingly Thro' some beloved heart, soft as a bird, — And swing with it — swing sweet as silver bells ! Not all your crowded day I hoped to see You turn to me: but when some little flower Shone through the dust and lured a softer mood, I hoped your troubled eyes would seek my eyes ! And in those days that I first cried for you And went uncomforted, had you returned, I could have washed your careless feet with tears, And unto you still grown, and gone thro' sun SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 249 And gloom beside you, and still in the bliss Of motherhood and most mysterious birth Forgotten ancient wrongs 1 Phaon Why brood on things Turned into dust and ashes long ago, When softly dawn by golden dawn, and eve By opal eve, Earth whispers : Life is ours ! Sappho Once I could listen to you, e'er you go; — Phaon And still you bid me go? Sappho Oh, had you gone While still the glory of my dreaming fell Like sunlight round you, — had you even died, I should have loved you now, as women love The wonder and the silence of the West When with sad eyes they breathe a last farewell To where the black ships go so proudly out, — Watching with twilit faces by the Sea Till down some golden rift the fading sails Darken and glow and pale amid the dusk, And gleam again, and pass into the gloom ! 250 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon Then once you loved me ! Let me know no more ! The cry of that old love shall lead you back To me, and make us one ! Sappho Nay, Home I go — Home, Home afar, where unknown seas forlorn On gloomy towers and darkling bastions foam, And lonely eyes look out for one dim sail That never comes, and men have said there is No sun. — And though I go forth soon no fear Shall cling to me, since I a thousand times Ere this have died a little day by day; And sun by sun the grave insatiable Has taken to its gloom some happier grace, And hour by hour some glory old engulfed, And left me like a house untenanted. Phaon No more of this ! I need you ; still turn back With me, and let one riotous flame of bliss Forever burn away these withered griefs. As fire eats clean the autumn mountain-side; For all this sweet sad-eyed dissuasiveness Endears like dew the flower of final love ! SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A 25 1 Sappho (abstracted) — Yes, I have died ere this a thousand times; For on the dusky borderlands of dream, Across the twihght of dim summer dawns Before the hooves of pearl throbbed down the wind, And listening to the birds amid green boughs Where tree and hill and field were touched with fire, — Hearing, yet hearing not, thro' all the thin Near multitudinous lament of Dawn's Low rustling leaves, stirred by some opal wing, — Oft have I seemed to feel my soul come home ! And faint and strange on my half-wakened ears Would fall the flute and pipe of early birds; And strange the odor of the opening flowers; And strange the world would lie, and stranger still The quiet rain along the glimmering grass: And Earth, sad with so many memories Of bliss, and beautiful with vague regrets, Would take on poignant glories, strange as death! Phaon What is this dim-eyed madness and dark talk Of death? Sappho Hush ! I have seen Death pass a hand Along old wounds, and they have ached no more ! 252 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA And with one little word lull pain away, And heal long-wasting tears ! Phaon But these soft lips Were made not for the touch of mold ! Sappho Time was I thought Death stern, and scattered at his door My dearest roses, that his feet might come And softly go ! Phaon This body white was made Not for the grave, — this flashing. wonder of The hand for hungry worms ! Sappho Oh, quiet as Soft rain on water shall it seem, and sad Only as Hfe's most dulcet music is, And dark as but a bride's first dreaded night Is dark — mild, mild as mirrored stars ! But you, You will forget me, Phaon ; there the sting ! The sorrow of the grave is not its green. SAPPHO IN LEU CAD I A Nor yet the salt tear on its violet; It is the years that bring the grey neglect, When tangled grasses smooth the lessening mound, When leaf by leaf the tree of sorrow wanes, And on the urn unseen the tarnish comes, And tears are not so bitter as they were ! Time sings so low to our bereaved ear. So softly breathes, that, bud by falling bud, The garden of our Grief all empty hes, And unregretted dips the languid oar Of Charon thro' the gloom, and then is gone ! Phaon Red-lipped and breathing woman, made for love, How can you talk of Death, or dream that one Who ever looked upon you can forget ? Sappho You will forget me, though you would or not ! Yes, in some other Spring when other lips Let fall my name, you will remember not ! — Yet come and let me look into your eyes, Thus quietly, as women view the dead. And dream of far-off things ! As in farewell. Still let me feel your hand about my hand 1 253 254 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon Your touch bums thro' my blood like fire. You have Not changed. Still must I kiss the heavy rose Of your red mouth ! Sappho No, not till Death has leaned And kissed it white as this white cliff, and robed This body for its bridegroom ! Phaon Honey-pale And passion-worn you seem, and I am blind With looking on your beauty. Sappho, come — Come close into my arms. Sappho It is too late; Forth to a sterner lover must I fare ! Phaon Mine flamed your first love, and shall glow your last ! Sappho Then meet this One, and know! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 255 Phaon The hounds of Hell And Aidoneus himself Sappho Hush ! Phaon You I seek ! The cadence of your voice enraptures me, The very breathing of your bosom turns My blood to sweeping fire, and leaves me faint With longing, makes me flash and burn with love ! And still you would elude me — but this arm Is strong, and I shall know no other god — Sappho Cease ! son of passion 1 Phaon Not until these arms, Shall hold and fold about you, not until — Sappho By all the hours you darkened, by the love You crushed and left embittered, hear me speak ! 256 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon (bitterly) Thus women change — and in their time forget I Sappho There lies the sorrow — if we could forget ! For one brief hour you gave me all the love That women ask, and then with cruel hands Set free the singing voices from the cage, And tore the glory from the waiting rose; And through life's empty garden still I dreamed And called for Love, and walked unsatisfied. Love ! Love ! 'Tis we who lose it know it best ! By day a fire and wonder, and by night A wheeling star that sinks in Mystery„ Love ! Love ! It is the blue of bluest skies ; The farthest green of waters touched with sun I It is the calm of moonlight and of leaves, And yet the troubled music of the Sea ! It is the frail original of faith, The timorous thing that seems afraid of light, Yet, loosened, sweeps the world, consuming time And tinsel empires, grim with blood and war 1 It is the voiceless want and loneliness Of blighted lands made wonderful with rain ! Regret it is, and song, and wistful tears; The rose upon the tomb of afterthought. The only wine of life, that on the lip SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 257 Of Thirst turns not to ashes ! Change and time And sorrow kneel to it, for at its touch The world is beautiful . . . the world is horn! Phaon Your words were ever tuned to madden men, And I am drunk with these sweet pleadings, soft As voices over many waters blown ! And thus you come to me against your will ! Sappho Hear me, for by those gods you fear the most There is a fire vdthin me bums away All pity, and some Hate, half-caged, may eat Thro' its last bar ! Phaon Not till your mouth's Sad warmth droops unto mine ! Sappho Yours once I was, And once I watched you spurn and tread me down And long amid my perished roses lay, Broken with sorrow, but still held my peace ! But now I warn you that the tide has turned ! 258 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Touch nevermore these hands, for my torn heart Is desperate, and given not to words ! Quite humble have I been, and duly spake My lips as you once asked that they should speak! But now this empty husk from which you drained Life's darkest wine, shall die in its own way. Yes, yes; as water sighs and whispers through Some hollow-throated urn, so now through me Shall steal contentment. Touch me not ! Stand back ! Or if you will, locked arm in reckless arm. Come with me, down, down to this crawling Deep ! Phaon What madness can this be ? Sappho The ocean waves Are softer with their dead, and autumn winds More kindly are with leaves, than mortal love With women, for it kills and buries not. Phaon You murmur of the dead, when warm and quick You breathe before me, and bewilder thought! With but the wine-like rapture of your voice You make me desperate ! SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 259 Sappho Nay, touch me not ! Phaon You shall come with me, Sappho ! I alone Dare not go back. I carry in my breast The edict of the Council. It commands I bring you safely home, and should I fail A thousand hands would beat me to the sea. But in this breast I bear a second scroll, A more imperious message, writ and sealed Of Love itself. I shall no longer be Denied or trifled with, though I must tear You like a rooted flower from where you wait; Though I must take you, like a fluttered bird, And bruise you in the taking ! Come with me ! Sappho Lay not unholy hands upon the dead. Phaon Yes, I shall bear you forth, as from a wall That totters or a chamber wrapped in flame ! He seizes her resisting body. His strength overpowers her^ and she lies back in his arms, panting. There she catches sight 0} the knife in his belt. 26o SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Sappho Nay, Phaon, I shall go, if you but wait — Phaon Too long I waited ! Sappho Take me not by force, Oh, not by force now, Phaon ! Let me come Quite willingly, made ready for your arms — Phaon I shall release you not ! Sappho But let me breathe One brief farewell, one broken last good-by To all my older life. . . . Then you can come And take me where you will, and not a word Of anger or lament shall pass my lips ! She forces him about so that they face the sea. Then I shall go almost without regret; For ghost-like even now I am; these eyes Wave-worn as Leucothea's eyes must seem, And I am tired, and it is good to sleep. So alone, sad Mother Ocean, let me rest; SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA 261 Alone, grey Mother, take me in your arms — Whose sorrow must have been as deep as mine. Who loved in times I know not of, and lost, And still must murmur of it night and day Along your mournful-noted shores ! Phaon What gods Are these you call upon in ecstasy ? Sappho I call not on your gods, or mine. For they Live high above our Earth, and scarce would know The odor of my incense, or how white My piteous altars stood ! Too like the Moon That looks so disimpassioned over men And their tumultuous cities crowned with pain. Smile down the gods on our tight-lipped despairs ! Yet far I am from home to go, and far From any voice to comfort me beyond The cypress twilight and the hemlock gloom ! But take me. Mournful Mother, while I feel Burn through my blood this bitter ecstasy ! Oh, take me. Mother Ocean, in your arms. And let the cooling waters lave and wash All sorrow from my eyes and rock the pain From my poor heart ! 262 SAPPHO IN LEUCADIA Phaon Upon my heart your heart Shall rock in weary slumber and forget These ghostly sorrows ! He crushes her half-passive body still closer. Give me of your lips As once, on Leucate, so long ago ! Sappho Oh, free me, Phaon ! Phaon Not until you lie At rest, and willingly, within my arms ! Sappho Oh, free me, but a moment ! * Phaon Nevermore \ Sappho This is the costliest last kiss of all Your life . . . and mine ! SAPPHO IN LEU CADI A 263 Phaon I care not what it costs, It crowns me with a peace — above the gods ! She shudders, hut lies passive in his arms, her own creeping about him. Her hand falls to his kni/e, which she withdraws, raises, and sinks deep in his side. His arms droop away, he crumbles down at her feet, without a word, dead. She scarcely moves as she gazes at the body. The two figures are bathed in the full golden light of the sunset. The voice of Erinna calls from the distance. Sappho turns with a haunted look, raises her arms, and leaps into the sea. Faintly, from the harbor beyond the cliff sounds the chords of " The Sailors' Hymn to Sunset, '' as the light slowly pales and passes. Curtain 264 THE THREE VOICES THE THREE VOICES '\^^HEN the fire sinks flame by flame And the shadows, Dear, grow long. Shall I turn for praise or blame To the Brazen-Throated Throng? When the last poor deed is done, Shall I look, O Good and True, To the old friends one by one, The Silver-Throated Few? Nay, all that I strove to do, However it end, was done For You and the love of You, The Golden-Throated One ! LBFe '06 Sappho in Leu c a d I a BY ARTHUR STRINGER BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1907 iiSS ^ ^,- ,*^'\ ''W9J /\ IW° -^^'^ '^^ I*' ^^-n^. '^0^ <^ * r^ ^ "«*' ^V^ ^ ♦iVn** *0^ t \.'^^:'^' V.^*\*i;"/V,//^ ^^°^ r% '9/ /\ .^, ^ /;,-o V .-^-^ ^