 | Sappho |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
A Grove with a view open to the sea on one side, and an elegant Temple dedicated to Venus on the other. While the Overture is performing, a splendid Barge appears on the sea bearing Sappho and her attendants from Lesbos; they land, and approach the Temple; when Sappho takes her Lyre from her principal attendant, and strikes it in accompaniment to her voice.SAPPHO.
Immortal Venus! power benign!
From this thy gaily-glittering shrine,
Daughter of Jove, thy vot'ry hear!
O, skill'd in each delusive art,
That best beguiles the love-lorn heart,
Defend thy Sappho from despair!
From this thy gaily-glittering shrine,
Daughter of Jove, thy vot'ry hear!
O, skill'd in each delusive art,
That best beguiles the love-lorn heart,
Defend thy Sappho from despair!
Come with such willing haste,
As oft thou cam'st before,
When thy light car thy nimble sparrows bore
Thro' the cærulean vast.
Forth from thy mighty sire's refulgent hall
Swift on their little dusky wings they flew,
Propitious to my call,
And gave thee to my dazzled view.
Raptur'd I mark'd each radiant grace,
That beam'd in thy celestial face;
I saw thee smile; I heard thy tongue
The soft consoling strain prolong;
“What from my power would Sappho claim?
“Who scorns thy flame?
“What wayward boy
“Disdains to yield thee joy for joy?
“Soon shall he court the bliss he flies;
“Soon beg the boon he now denies,
“And, hast'ning back to love and thee,
“Repay the wrong with extacy.”
As oft thou cam'st before,
When thy light car thy nimble sparrows bore
Thro' the cærulean vast.
Forth from thy mighty sire's refulgent hall
Swift on their little dusky wings they flew,
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And gave thee to my dazzled view.
Raptur'd I mark'd each radiant grace,
That beam'd in thy celestial face;
I saw thee smile; I heard thy tongue
The soft consoling strain prolong;
“What from my power would Sappho claim?
“Who scorns thy flame?
“What wayward boy
“Disdains to yield thee joy for joy?
“Soon shall he court the bliss he flies;
“Soon beg the boon he now denies,
“And, hast'ning back to love and thee,
“Repay the wrong with extacy.”
Ah, gentle Goddess! once again
Repeat the soft consoling strain:
My queen, my patroness, my friend,
Again thy powerful influence lend;
Relieve me from these dire alarms,
And give my Phaon to my arms!
Repeat the soft consoling strain:
My queen, my patroness, my friend,
Again thy powerful influence lend;
Relieve me from these dire alarms,
And give my Phaon to my arms!
[The Hymn ended, she takes from another of her attendants two Doves, and with the rest of her train enters the Temple.]
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SCENE II.
AGENOR, DORIS.Dor.
In pity hear me!
Ag.
No, my soul's resolved;
I will not yield to this proud Lesbian youth
Thy beauty, or my wealth.
Dor.
Nor do I hope it.
Ag.
Why then admit vain Phaon to thy bower?
Dor.
In duty to the goddess of this fane,
I must admire the form she made so fair;
On whom she lavish'd more enchanting grace
Than deck'd her own Adonis.
Ag.
And for this,
Ev'n for the gloss and varnish of complexion,
Is virtuous Lycidas, with coy disdain,
Banish'd thy presence.
Dor.
To the shepherd's merit
I give my heart's esteem.
Ag.
'Tis a cold tribute:
The youth deserves thy love, and once possest it.
But mark my words; I led thee here to mark them.
Lo! at this fane I swear, not to survive
The day thou wed'st with Phaon.
Dor.
Dearest Sire!
Recall the word.
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Daughter, the vow is made;
Jove, when he swears by sable Styx, not binds
His oath more firmly.
Dor.
Hear me but a moment—
Ag.
Away—discard all duty—marry Phaon—
Yet, in the hour of transport, Doris, know
A father's death shall turn thy bliss to woe.
Yet, in the hour of transport, Doris, know
A father's death shall turn thy bliss to woe.
The Furies from their Hell shall start,
And thunder to thy trembling heart,
That then thy father died;
Shall dash with guilt and shame the hour,
When Phaon to the nuptial bower
Leads thee, a willing bride.
And thunder to thy trembling heart,
That then thy father died;
Shall dash with guilt and shame the hour,
When Phaon to the nuptial bower
Leads thee, a willing bride.
[Exit Agenor.
SCENE III.
DORIS.
Tremendous threat! yet justly given to her,
Who, tho' she knows the force of filial duty,
Knows the dear tribute due to faithful love;
To both must live a debtor. Death alone
Must aid me. Crimes we ought, yet cannot, hate
Are only cancell'd by the stroke of Fate.
Who, tho' she knows the force of filial duty,
Knows the dear tribute due to faithful love;
To both must live a debtor. Death alone
Must aid me. Crimes we ought, yet cannot, hate
Are only cancell'd by the stroke of Fate.
Ye virgin shades, relieved from pain,
That in Elysian vallies rove!
Ah! take me to your pensive train,
Victims like me of hopeless love!
Lead to the glades where, softly slow,
Oblivion's Lethe steals along:
There let me join your warbling woe,
Or sigh responsive to your song.
That in Elysian vallies rove!
Ah! take me to your pensive train,
Victims like me of hopeless love!
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Oblivion's Lethe steals along:
There let me join your warbling woe,
Or sigh responsive to your song.
[Exit Doris.
SCENE IV.
LYCIDAS, and afterwards SAPPHO, from the Temple.Lyc.
Stay, Nymph! she hears me not—or hearing flies me,
Perchance, to follow Phaon. O my spear,
That oft hast on the felon wolf repaid
His outrage on my fold, prepare thy point
To quell a baser robber!
Sap.
What is this?
A youth of wild demeanor: yet, methinks,
He has not long been thus. His eye, tho' fir'd
With rage, has yet a tenderness withal,
That speaks his bosom gentle. Hapless youth,
Perhaps, the nymph he loves has been unkind!
What if I question him? Stay, courteous Swain?
A stranger sues thy converse.
Lyc.
Thou'rt a woman
I have forsworn the sex.
Sap.
'Tis as I fear'd;
Love has done this; yet hear me, tho' a woman,
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Where Lesbian Phaon sojourns.
Lyc.
Phaon, sayst thou?
O that this spear were buried in his breast;
Sap.
Venus forbid! what, wouldst thou murder Phaon?
Lyc.
I would, but dare not: lest a deadlier frown
From Doris should avenge the righteous blow.
Sap.
And loves he Doris?
Lyc.
That his trait'rous heart
Can only tell: enough for me to know,
That Doris, won by his delusive wiles,
Disdains my virtuous passion. Gracious gods!
Why sleeps your vengeance? why, at truth's just call,
Does not destruction's bolt on falsehood fall?
Can only tell: enough for me to know,
That Doris, won by his delusive wiles,
Disdains my virtuous passion. Gracious gods!
Why sleeps your vengeance? why, at truth's just call,
Does not destruction's bolt on falsehood fall?
Is there not thunder in the sky?
Lightning, of pale and livid glare,
Prepar'd the perjur'd breast to tear,
And prove that justice reigns on high?
Fall then, dread meteors, from above!
Ye whirlwinds rush; ye tempests growl;
And wreck on Phaon's impious soul,
The fury of offended Jove!
Lightning, of pale and livid glare,
Prepar'd the perjur'd breast to tear,
And prove that justice reigns on high?
Fall then, dread meteors, from above!
Ye whirlwinds rush; ye tempests growl;
And wreck on Phaon's impious soul,
The fury of offended Jove!
[Exit Lycidas.
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SCENE V.
SAPPHO.
Ah, I have heard enough! he loves another;
And she (as needs she must; so absolute
His beauty's sov'reignty) returns his passion.
I look'd for this; and therefore did I bring,
Lodg'd in my bark, the vestments of a shepherd,
In these I'll veil my sex; adieu my lyre!
Tho' sweeter than the harp, than gold more dear,
Awhile must I resign thee; and inform
The liquid languor of Sicilian reed
To breathe as I inspire! Yet if the powers,
That Phœbus gives me, like their Author prove,
With this I'll woo; I'll win my rival's love.
And she (as needs she must; so absolute
His beauty's sov'reignty) returns his passion.
I look'd for this; and therefore did I bring,
Lodg'd in my bark, the vestments of a shepherd,
In these I'll veil my sex; adieu my lyre!
Tho' sweeter than the harp, than gold more dear,
Awhile must I resign thee; and inform
The liquid languor of Sicilian reed
To breathe as I inspire! Yet if the powers,
That Phœbus gives me, like their Author prove,
With this I'll woo; I'll win my rival's love.
Parent of Harmony descend!
The Muse's and the Lover's friend;
Thro' melody's meand'ring tide
Let sense and sound united glide;
Link in thy sympathetic chain
The tend'rest thought, the softest strain,
And lead the touching tones along
Thro' ev'ry melting mood of song;
So shall the tuneful contest prove,
That Music rules the realms of Love.
The Muse's and the Lover's friend;
Thro' melody's meand'ring tide
Let sense and sound united glide;
Link in thy sympathetic chain
The tend'rest thought, the softest strain,
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Thro' ev'ry melting mood of song;
So shall the tuneful contest prove,
That Music rules the realms of Love.
[Exit Sappho.
SCENE VI.
Changes to an enclosed Lawn with a bower in the centre ornamented with festoons of flowers. EnterPHAON.
This is her bower; and this the time agreed.
Doris was ever punctual to the moment;
Nay even forewent it: should she fail me now,
My careless heart tells me it well could brook
A longer absence; lovely as she is,
And unenjoy'd, I feel already sated.
Ah, rapt'rous Sappho! wherefore did I leave thee!
Thine was a soul of fire. Others can love,
But not like thee: this Doris owns a passion,
But thou alone couldst feel it: Joy in her,
In thee was extacy. I left thy arms
To gain fresh taste for their superior charms.
Doris was ever punctual to the moment;
Nay even forewent it: should she fail me now,
My careless heart tells me it well could brook
A longer absence; lovely as she is,
And unenjoy'd, I feel already sated.
Ah, rapt'rous Sappho! wherefore did I leave thee!
Thine was a soul of fire. Others can love,
But not like thee: this Doris owns a passion,
But thou alone couldst feel it: Joy in her,
In thee was extacy. I left thy arms
To gain fresh taste for their superior charms.
The bee that roves round every field,
And sips the balm that each bestows,
For sweets, that common cowslips yield,
Resigns the nectar of the rose;
But, when the transient feast is o'er,
He seeks the rose he left behind,
And finds, in the forsaken flower,
Both nectar and ambrosia join'd.
And sips the balm that each bestows,
For sweets, that common cowslips yield,
Resigns the nectar of the rose;
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He seeks the rose he left behind,
And finds, in the forsaken flower,
Both nectar and ambrosia join'd.
But see where Doris comes: health to my fair one,
And love, and transport!
And love, and transport!
SCENE VII.
DORIS, PHAON.Dor.
Rather fear, and torture;
For these alone possess the heart of Doris.
Pha.
What? when I meet thee? when thy Phaon's lips
Print on this hand, this fervent seal of love?
Dor.
Forego the hand, that never must be thine:
A father's frowns—
Pha.
Weigh'd with his daughter's smiles
Are light as air to Phaon: such to thee
Should be those frowns, when weigh'd with Phaon's love,
Dor.
If Phaon lov'd me with a worthy passion,
He would not counsel thus.
Pha.
When filial duty
Contends, as now it seems, with faithful Love,
One must be scorn'd.
Dor.
But Doris has a heart,
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That can scorn neither.
Pha.
Then the love of Phaon
Has not that force, that interest in thy bosom,
He once had cause to hope.
Dor.
Cruel! it has;
Thou know'st it has; thou hear'st it in my sighs;
Thou see'st it in my tears; my voice declares it.
Go with the pleas'd conviction, that thy charms
Have made poor Doris wretched: place her name
The last, the lowliest in the suff'ring list,
Thy beauty has enslav'd: let Lesbian Sappho
Hold, as she ought, the highest.
Pha.
Jealousy,
Not duty, there prompted the cold reproof.
Dor.
I meant not to reprove thee; would to Heav'n,
That never from that Sappho's am'rous breast,
Thy faith had parted! then I had not seen thee,
And had not been undone. No father's frown
(As now it does) had spread confusion round me;
No virtuous lover mourn'd my cruelty.
But, as it is, thy pity I implore,
Quitting those charms I ever must adore.
That never from that Sappho's am'rous breast,
Thy faith had parted! then I had not seen thee,
And had not been undone. No father's frown
(As now it does) had spread confusion round me;
No virtuous lover mourn'd my cruelty.
But, as it is, thy pity I implore,
Quitting those charms I ever must adore.
'Tis duty, Phaon, bids me fly
The heav'n of smiles, that decks thy face,
And ev'ry more than mortal grace,
That triumphs in thy eye.
Yet mem'ry ev'ry grace and smile
Shall hoard, as misers do their store,
And these, till life's vain dream be o'er,
My sorrows shall beguile.
The heav'n of smiles, that decks thy face,
And ev'ry more than mortal grace,
That triumphs in thy eye.
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Shall hoard, as misers do their store,
And these, till life's vain dream be o'er,
My sorrows shall beguile.
[Exit Doris.
SCENE VIII.
PHAON.
She goes, in hope I should pursue her step
To her stern father's presence; and, with prayer,
And bended knees, and supplicating hands,
Implore a boon, that I can gain without it.
No, Lesbian poetess! Apollo's daughter!
Phaon, whose charms once freely won thy heart,
Disdains the thought. And thou, bright Queen of Love!
Who gav'st me beauty to support thy reign,
Shalt find that gift was not bestow'd in vain.
To her stern father's presence; and, with prayer,
And bended knees, and supplicating hands,
Implore a boon, that I can gain without it.
No, Lesbian poetess! Apollo's daughter!
Phaon, whose charms once freely won thy heart,
Disdains the thought. And thou, bright Queen of Love!
Who gav'st me beauty to support thy reign,
Shalt find that gift was not bestow'd in vain.
From fair to fair in ev'ry isle,
That lifts its forests from the wave,
I'll rove, their beauties to inslave;
The coyly grave,
The freely gay,
Shall each be victims to my smile;
I'll woo them all, perplex, beguile,
Possess, and fling the toys away.
Too long has woman wore the crown,
And rul'd with love's resistless power:
'Tis time, that man should have his hour,
To reign a tyrant in his turn.
So shall the swains, that dayly sigh
With unavailing passion true,
In Phaon their avenger view,
And hail his am'rous victory.
That lifts its forests from the wave,
I'll rove, their beauties to inslave;
The coyly grave,
The freely gay,
Shall each be victims to my smile;
I'll woo them all, perplex, beguile,
Possess, and fling the toys away.
Too long has woman wore the crown,
And rul'd with love's resistless power:
'Tis time, that man should have his hour,
To reign a tyrant in his turn.
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With unavailing passion true,
In Phaon their avenger view,
And hail his am'rous victory.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
| Sappho | |