Sappho, Alcaeus, Anacreon, Phaon

SAPPHO.
I wonder at the malice of the herd
Against us poets. O what calumnies
Do those invent who can invent nought else !
'Tis said, Alcaeus, thou hast run away
From battle.

ALCAEUS.

Idlers show no idleness
In picking up and spreading false reports.
Nay, 'tis said also (thing incredible)
That women carry them from house to house,
And twirl and sniff them as they would a rose.

Nothing is lighter than an empty tale,
Or carried farther on with fresh relays ;
No ball do children leap at with more glee.
Catch, and look more triumphant, than do men
At lies : such men, day after day, come here :
Yet, Sappho, which among the worst can say
I love thee not ?

SAPPHO.
ALCAEUS.

Well, well !

To be beloved
By Sappho raises mortal nigh the Gods
In bliss and glory ; not to love her sinks
The proudest head below the beasts that perish.
They who look down from heaven into our hearts
See truth, how deep ! in mine.

SAPPHO.
They know the true.
They know the brave, and value them alike.

ANACREON.
Pick up thy shield, man ! There was no delay
Upon that meadow, soft to run upon,
Where even the tenderest grass seem'd strong enough
To impede thee like a barrier, every reed
A pointed spear, and every twittering bird
Sounded like trumpet, when two lifted hands
Shielded two ears upright as leveret's.

SAPPHO.
I never thought Anacreon was so fierce,
But even doves are vicious now and then,

ALCAEUS.
I burn to smite him on the mouth for this.

SAPPHO.
Sit down, Alcaeus ; none are angry here.
Do wise men rear and start at sparks of wit ?

ALCAEUS.
Sparks fly up, drop, and die ; pure incense burns
Without them.

SAPPHO.
Incense usually begins
In smoke, and ends in ashes.

ALCAEUS.

Not so mine.

SAPPHO.
I wish thy voice attuned to notes less grave.

ALCAEUS.

Ah ! can it ever be attuned to thine ?
Love checks it.

ANACREON.
Love, it seems, may check thy tongue,
But not thy feet. I wish my verses ran
On feet as light as those which left their soles
Behind them at the clarion's nearer blasts;
The lightest lyre would have been heavy there.

SAPPHO. (Phaon entering,)
Be calm, Alcaeus ! be less petulant,
Anacreon ! Thy persuasive voice, my Phaon,
May harmonize these wranglers.

PHAON.
Ah ! what voice
Could ever harmonize like thine the chords
Of the most rigid breast ! a ray of thine
Awakes to song, as the bright Morn awakes
Upon the desert sand her Memnon's lyre.

ANACREON.
By Zeus ! he beats us both. Sing, sing away,
Alcaeus ! I will try another time.

(To Sappho.)

Already this brave warrior hath confest
His voice defective in the praise of thee.

ALCAEUS.
I did confess it, and will prove it now.

(Sings.)

Glory of Lesbos ! where Apollo's hand
Led thee among us mortals, nor withdrew
When Aphrodite claim'd thee for her own.
Over what distant ages shalt thou pass,
And thro what distant regions men shall hear
The song of Sappho, and her praise in all.

PHAON. (to Sappho)

I hate such sing-song from my very soul ;
'Tis only proper for hard-fisted girls
Who, crouching on low tressel, milk the goat.
As for that tippler on the other side.

I often hear his verses in the street ;
There children stagger, imitating him,
And he runs sidelong after them, and trips.

SAPPHO.
Why lookest thou so gloomily ? say, speak.
Surely thou art not jealous, like a poet.

PHAON.
Jealous I am not ; but can ill endure
To see a rival wear a gift of thine.

SAPPHO.
I would not give it hadst not thou been by.

PHAON.
Songsters are ever most importunate.

SAPPHO.
We like a bird to sin": to us sometimes.

PHAON.
Some birds would put their beaks on softer ones.

SAPPHO.
I have known maidens let their sparrow do it,
Holding the wing on purpose.

Thou art cold
And peevish : be what thou hast been till now.
Whenever Phaon came, all went away,
As those have done. •

PHAON.
But thou hast given my gift.
If mine it was.

SAPPHO.
O crudest of words !
Were it not thine, and worn till it was dead.
The kitten had been tearing it for play ;
I wore it only for thy coming, sure
To have a fresher, so now give it me.

Or lay it on the table : if not, take
Some trouble with it in a fitter place,
Where thou hast often spent much time and tried
Contrivances, and tried again, to bend
A riotous curl obedient to thy will.

PHAON.
Forgive me, Sappho. Let me twine it round
Thy sadden'd brow : how hot it is I Had love
And not vexation caus'd it, even then
I might almost have griev'd. Yes ! any pain
Thou feelest, I feel more.

SAPPHO.

PHAON.
Of love?

That worst.
Until thy breath wafted it all away.

SAPPHO.
When thy love perishes, I shall believe
The Gods have perisht too, one only left,
And he to laugh and taunt me.

PHAON.
Truth herself
Shall first leave earth and heaven. Now wipe thine eyes.

SAPPHO.
Thou shalt then lower thy lips,

PHAON.
And crush that smile.