 | Sappho |  |
349
ACT III.
SCENE I.
A gloomy valley with caves and trees on one side; a fountain issuing from a rock and forming a stream on the other: the sea seen at the termination of the vale, and the moon setting in the horizon. Sappho in her female habit comes out of one of the caves unattended.SAPPHO.
The radiant Queen of night retires,
And quits her silver car;
The Pleiads veil their lambent fires,
And ev'ry glittering star,
That flam'd on midnight's sable brow,
Have ceas'd to tremble, and to glow;
While, lost to Phaon, love, and joy,
I heave the solitary sigh:
Still pants my wakeful heart, still weeps my wearied eye.
[She reclines on a bank.
And quits her silver car;
The Pleiads veil their lambent fires,
And ev'ry glittering star,
That flam'd on midnight's sable brow,
Have ceas'd to tremble, and to glow;
While, lost to Phaon, love, and joy,
I heave the solitary sigh:
Still pants my wakeful heart, still weeps my wearied eye.
Ah! come ye balmy powers of sleep,
Nor from my arms, like Phaon, rove.
O! bid my eyes forget to weep!
Bid my fond heart forget to love.
Nor from my arms, like Phaon, rove.
O! bid my eyes forget to weep!
Bid my fond heart forget to love.
This accompanied Recitative and Air is a kind of paraphrase of a little fragment of Sappho's, apud Hephestionem:
Δεδυκε μεν α σελανα,
Και Πλειαδες, μεσαι δε
Νυκτες, παρα δ' ερχεθ' ωρα·
Εγω δε μονα καθευδω.
See the Edition of Pindar and other Lyric Poems by H. Stephens.
Και Πλειαδες, μεσαι δε
Νυκτες, παρα δ' ερχεθ' ωρα·
Εγω δε μονα καθευδω.
350
SCENE II.
A soft symphony, during which Sappho falls asleep and the Naiad Arethusa rises from the stream, seated in a shell.ARETHUSA.
See! from her translucent bed
Arethusa brings thee aid.
Lo! she sprinkles on thy breast
Vial'd drops, by fingers chaste
Cull'd from the cærulean deeps,
Where her coldest chrystal sleeps;
Where Alphéus dare not lave,
To mix with her's his amorous wave.
Thrice I lift my virgin hand,
Thrice I shed the vapors bland,
To calm thy soul; while I declare
The council I from Phœbus bear.
Know, by my voice, he bids his vot'ry fly
To where Leucate's cliff o'erhangs the main.
There shall she try
The last, the dangerous remedy
Of those, who love like her, and love in vain.
Arethusa brings thee aid.
Lo! she sprinkles on thy breast
Vial'd drops, by fingers chaste
Cull'd from the cærulean deeps,
Where her coldest chrystal sleeps;
Where Alphéus dare not lave,
To mix with her's his amorous wave.
Thrice I lift my virgin hand,
Thrice I shed the vapors bland,
To calm thy soul; while I declare
The council I from Phœbus bear.
Know, by my voice, he bids his vot'ry fly
To where Leucate's cliff o'erhangs the main.
There shall she try
The last, the dangerous remedy
Of those, who love like her, and love in vain.
351
A voice divine proclaims thy cure:
Hear, Sappho, hear that voice divine!
To Phœbus haste with off'rings pure,
And lay them on his holy shrine:
Then from Leucate's frowning brow
(Resolved to perish or be free)
Rush to the wave that rolls below
And welcome Death or Liberty.
Hear, Sappho, hear that voice divine!
To Phœbus haste with off'rings pure,
And lay them on his holy shrine:
Then from Leucate's frowning brow
(Resolved to perish or be free)
Rush to the wave that rolls below
And welcome Death or Liberty.
[Arethusa descends.
SCENE III.
SAPPHO(awaking.)
What do I hear? I'll try the desperate leap.
Naiad, I thank thee. In thy friendly fount
I drop these tears of pious gratitude.
Yes, 'tis resolv'd; ev'n now I mount the rock.
Bold Fancy bears me to it's lofty summit;
Now hurls me headlong. Countless fathoms deep
I fall! the clear blue wave receives me. O how cold;
Yet grateful. Quickly will it quench the flame,
That thus consumes my heart. Phœbus, I come—
Ah! who arrests my step?
352
SCENE IV.
PHAON, SAPPHO.Sap.
Traitor to love;
To honour; to the gods! abjur'd of Heav'n,
Avoid my presence!
Pha.
If repentant tears,
And sighs that rend the heart, from whence they spring,
Can plead forgiveness, Sappho, hear them plead.
Sap.
Yes; so he look'd. The sable-fringed lids
Of his false eyes thus veil'd their liquid lustre,
With modest shamefac'dness, when first he woo'd me.
Look thus on Doris, base one! Sappho towers
Above thy wiles. The god, the god inspires me!
He calls me to Leucate. Dread Apollo,
I hear, and I obey thy awful call.
Pha.
Hah! to Leucate!
Sap.
Yes, to that fam'd cliff,
Whence, dashing down into the whelming surge,
I'll die—or live to hate thee.
Pha.
My heart's Idol,
Forego this frenzy!
Sap.
Say that it were frenzy;
The wrongs, that thou hast heap'd on this poor brain,
Would justify the deed: but 'tis not frenzy;
'Tis inspiration. From yon stream it rose,
In a cærulean robe of Heav'n's own tincture.
353
Thou bad'st me fly to Liberty, or Death.
Pha.
Fly rather to these arms, to life, to love!
Sap.
Cruel! It was thy arm, that gave the blow,
Which makes life loathsome.
Pha.
'Twas the blow of error.
Sap.
Away! I will not parley with thy falsehood.
Pha.
Behold me kneel!
Sap.
Repentance comes too late.
Rise, Traitor, rise! my choice is fixt as fate.
Pha.
O! let this tender tear,
Contrition's purest dew,
My Sappho's pity move.
Sap.
No! my intense despair
Here sighs a long adieu
To Phaon, and to Love
I go—
Pha.
Yet hear—
Sap.
I go
To steep Leucate's brow.
I fly from fraud and thee.
Pha.
Yet stay—
Sap.
Deceiver! no.
The rolling waves below
Involve my destiny.
Pha.
Let Love his softest strains employ
To call thee back to him and joy.
354
In vain; we part to meet no more—
Pha. and Sap.
What agony severe!
Fate has no sharper pang in store
The love-lorn breast to tear.
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE V.
Changes to the Temple of Hymen with the Priests of the god standing before the Altar.AGENOR, DORIS, LYCIDAS.
Ag.
Doris, tho' now the nuptial altar flames,
My blessing pauses.
Dor.
Why, my gracious Father,
When my repentant soul with truth returns
To filial duty, and to faithful love?
Ag.
Does Lycidas forgive thee?
Lyc.
Trust me, Sire,
Like summer storms, her frowns, my fears are past,
And mutual love shines brighter from the blast.
Like summer storms, her frowns, my fears are past,
And mutual love shines brighter from the blast.
When hail descends in pearly shower,
The linnet nestling in the shade,
Hides with its wing its drooping head,
Nor tunes the sprightly lay.
But soon the sun's enlivening power
Dispels the cold, that chill'd the plain;
And soon the linnet hastes again
To warble on it's spray.
The linnet nestling in the shade,
Hides with its wing its drooping head,
Nor tunes the sprightly lay.
But soon the sun's enlivening power
Dispels the cold, that chill'd the plain;
And soon the linnet hastes again
To warble on it's spray.
355
Dear Lycidas! that jocund strain bespeaks
A heart completely cur'd of jealous fear;
Nor shall that baneful guest,
Wak'd by my falsehood, more invade thy breast.
A heart completely cur'd of jealous fear;
Nor shall that baneful guest,
Wak'd by my falsehood, more invade thy breast.
When beauty, void of faith and truth,
Beguil'd my wand'ring eye,
This pensive heart, Ah! gentle Youth,
Could only heave and sigh.
It did not love, it but admir'd;
For love's allied to smiles and joy:
But now, by thy fair virtue fir'd,
It glows with extasy.
Beguil'd my wand'ring eye,
This pensive heart, Ah! gentle Youth,
Could only heave and sigh.
It did not love, it but admir'd;
For love's allied to smiles and joy:
But now, by thy fair virtue fir'd,
It glows with extasy.
Ag.
Enough! enough! now did the voice of fate
Call old Agenor to the darkling tomb,
Where sleep his ancestors, trust me, my children,
The summons were right welcome. But he lives
To bless you both, and take from you the blessing,
Which dear observance of your mutual love,
Now sheds in streams of joy on his grey hair.
Haste, Holy Men, the sacrifice prepare.
[Ag.]
Pour libations on the shrine;
Wake the pipe, the lute, the lyre;
Let the loudly-warbling choir
In harmonious chorus join.
Doris. Lycidas.
Call the god, that gives desire
Lawful right his joys to share.
Agenor.
Bid him warm this willing pair
With his torch of purest fire.
356
Holy Hymen, thou alone
Giv'st to faith and constancy
Fair fruition's lasting crown,
Years of unpolluted joy.
SCENE VI.
PHAON enters to them.Ag.
Ah, whence that step! what wretch disturbs our rites?
Lyc.
Gods! does the Lesbian traitor dare insult
Chaste Hymen with his presence?
Ag.
Hence! far hence,
Thou most profane of that inconstant tribe,
Whom Hymen holds accurst.
Dor.
Hence, on thy life,
And dread the god's just vengeance.
Pha.
Well I know,
I merit all his vengeance; death befits
The wretch, who murder'd Sappho.
Dor.
Sappho murder'd?
Lyc.
And by thy impious hand?
Pha.
My hand is guiltless;
Nor is she dead. But know, she flies to Death,
And finds him at Leucate.
Ag.
Dread resolve!
Lyc.
Learn, Doris, learn to what dire deeds despair
Can drive a slighted lover.
357
Was this act
Her own, or did some Deity inspire it?
Pha.
She talk'd of visions from Apollo sent,
Of some strange Naiad, who proclaim'd his mandate;
Yet sure 'twas frenzy all, and caus'd by me:
I therefore murder'd Sappho.
Lyc.
Sure thou didst.
Think, what a victim to thy falsehood falls!
Ag.
She was the very soul of Poesy;
Form'd by Apollo's self: her tuneful frame
Was the rich lyre, whence all his rapture flow'd.
Dor.
Nor more attun'd to Poesy, than Love:
Each note she breath'd was melting, as the voice
Of Venus when she wept Adonis dead.
Pha.
And had I died before her; died while faithful,
Her lays had crown'd me with that shepherd's fame.
Ag.
Go then, disloyal youth, and mourn thy baseness;
Away to chearless solitude.
Pha.
I mean it.
Dor.
Bear not to other nymphs thy soft deceits,
Thy winning gestures, thy delusive smiles.
Lyc.
Nor hope, as here thou didst, to part two hearts,
Which virtue first united.
Ag.
Learn, that beauty,
Were it as bright as gilds Hyperion's cheek,
Save when its bloom inshrines a virtuous heart,
Is only splendid misery.
Pha.
This, and more
I patiently can bear. Mix with reproof
Your sharpest taunts, I'll yet endure them all;
For I deserve them all. Yes, to some cave,
Which never chearing sun-beam pierc'd, I'll fly:
There live forlorn; there unlamented die.
358
Your sharpest taunts, I'll yet endure them all;
For I deserve them all. Yes, to some cave,
Which never chearing sun-beam pierc'd, I'll fly:
There live forlorn; there unlamented die.
Hail, horrors, hail! I come, I come!
Ye caves, o'erhung with savage thorn,
Receive me to your haunts forlorn,
A sad, a silent guest;
Fling round my head your darkest gloom,
And hide me in that living tomb,
Where anguish exiles rest.
Ye caves, o'erhung with savage thorn,
Receive me to your haunts forlorn,
A sad, a silent guest;
Fling round my head your darkest gloom,
And hide me in that living tomb,
Where anguish exiles rest.
[Exit Phaon.
Ag.
Behold his fate, and tremble, ye that dare
To break those chaste and sanctimonious vows,
This deity approves. But see, what light
Sudden and dazzling sparkles from his symbol!
Behold! it moves; it shakes its saffron robe;
In gentle guise it waves its lambent torch;
It speaks.
[The Statue of Hymen during this speech appears animated by degrees, and then utters the following words in accompanying Recitative.
Mortals! to you 'tis given to view,
In bright ideal portraiture, the scene
Now passing at Leucate; mark it well,
And stamp the awful moral on your souls.
359
SCENE VII.
The Priests of Hymen hasten from the Altar and join the other personages on the front of the Stage; the Temple, Statue, &c. vanish instantly under a change of scene, which represents the Promontory of Leucate. The portico of a magnificent Temple dedicated to Apollo is seen in perspective on one side; out of which the Priests of the god come in solemn procession, followed by Sappho and her attendants: a slow pathetic march is played during the time. Two Orchestras are supposed to be necessary in the final Chorus, and one behind the scene at first.SAPPHO.
Here pause awhile! be mute,
Ye warblers, that inspire the Dorian flute,
While Sappho, once the fav'rite of the Nine,
Nay, if fame bids her not too high aspire,
Their tuneful sister, to the radiant shrine
Of this her patron god, perchance her sire,
Devotes this instrument divine.
[She hangs her Lyre on one of the Pillars.
Lo! on this column's Parian height
I hang the glittering freight:
And hear, ye Priests, with reverence hear
This verse inscriptive, by my voice decreed
Memorial of my dying deed.
“To Him, that did inspire,
“Sappho to Phœbus consecrates her lyre.
“What suits with Sappho, Phœbus, suits with thee;
“The gift, the giver, and the god agree.”
This off'ring made, my faithful virgin train,
Take ye my last adieu, and from my fate
Learn to distrust false man, if not to hate.
[She ascends the Rock.
Ye warblers, that inspire the Dorian flute,
While Sappho, once the fav'rite of the Nine,
Nay, if fame bids her not too high aspire,
Their tuneful sister, to the radiant shrine
Of this her patron god, perchance her sire,
Devotes this instrument divine.
[She hangs her Lyre on one of the Pillars.
Lo! on this column's Parian height
I hang the glittering freight:
And hear, ye Priests, with reverence hear
This verse inscriptive, by my voice decreed
Memorial of my dying deed.
“To Him, that did inspire,
“Sappho to Phœbus consecrates her lyre.
360
“The gift, the giver, and the god agree.”
This off'ring made, my faithful virgin train,
Take ye my last adieu, and from my fate
Learn to distrust false man, if not to hate.
Tremendous Rock! I mount thee now;
And now I reach thy dreadful brow.
O giddy brain support the sight!
See, how the surge, as black as night,
Rolls horribly below!
It rolls—sad solace to despair,
Its awful murmurs strike my ear.
And now I reach thy dreadful brow.
O giddy brain support the sight!
See, how the surge, as black as night,
Rolls horribly below!
It rolls—sad solace to despair,
Its awful murmurs strike my ear.
I faint—I tremble—Powers on high,
Ah! hasten from your sky:
Catch from perdition this devoted head.
Does Zephyr sleep? will Cupid bring
No soft, no tutelary wing
To waft me to my wat'ry bed?
Hear, god of Love, 'tis Sappho calls!
Dread deity! 'tis Sappho falls.
[She throws herself from the rock; a clap of thunder
is heard, and a swan is seen rising from the
sea, and ascending to the clouds.
Ah! hasten from your sky:
Catch from perdition this devoted head.
Does Zephyr sleep? will Cupid bring
No soft, no tutelary wing
To waft me to my wat'ry bed?
Hear, god of Love, 'tis Sappho calls!
Dread deity! 'tis Sappho falls.
361
PRIESTS OF APOLLO, HYMEN, AGENOR, &c.
Great Jove himself arrests her fate!
Hail, prodigy divine!
She soars a swan in plumy state;
To Jove she soars, to claim
In heav'n a residence divine,
On earth immortal fame.
This inscription is borrowed from Mr. Pope's Translation of Ovid's Epistle on the subject. His version was too perfect to admit any attempt at another.
END OF THE OPERA.
| Sappho | |