“I will.”

“And then, when my time has passed, and you must yield to the customs of your country (for it will not be love that leads you to bring home a second wife), then let me be the first among your slaves.  Oh!  I have pictured that so delightfully to myself.  When you go to war I shall set the tiara on your head, gird on the sword, and place the lance in your hand; and when you return a conqueror, I shall be the first to crown you with the wreath of victory.  When you ride out to the chase, mine will be the duty of buckling on your spurs, and when you go to the banquet, of adorning and anointing you, winding the garlands of poplar and roses and twining them around your forehead and shoulders.  If wounded, I will be your nurse; will never stir from your side if you are ill, and when I see you happy will retire, and feast my eyes from afar on your glory and happiness.  Then perchance you will call me to your side, and your kiss will say, ‘I am content with my Sappho, I love her still.’”

“O Sappho, wert thou only my wife now!—­to-day!  The man who possesses such a treasure as I have in thee, will guard it carefully, but never care to seek for others which, by its side, can only show their miserable poverty.  He who has once loved thee, can never love another:  I know it is the custom in my country to have many wives, but this is only allowed; there is no law to enjoin it.  My father had, it is true, a hundred female slaves, but only one real, true wife, our mother Kassandane.”

“And I will be your Kassandane.”

“No, my Sappho, for what you will be to me, no woman ever yet was to her husband.”

“When shall you come to fetch me?”

“As soon as I can, and am permitted to do so.”

“Then I ought to be able to wait patiently.”

“And shall I ever hear from you?”

“Oh, I shall write long, long letters, and charge every wind with loving messages for you.”

“Yes, do so, my darling; and as to the letters, give them to the messenger who will bring Nitetis tidings from Egypt from time to time.”

“Where shall I find him?”

“I will see that a man is stationed at Naukratis, to take charge of everything you send to him.  All this I will settle with Melitta.”

“Yes, we can trust her, she is prudent and faithful; but I have another friend, who is dearer to me than any one else excepting you, and who loves me too better than any one else does, but you—­”

“You mean your grandmother Rhodopis.”

“Yes, my faithful guardian and teacher.”

“Ah, she is a noble woman.  Croesus considers her the most excellent among women, and he has studied mankind as the physicians do plants and herbs.  He knows that rank poison lies hidden in some, in others healing cordials, and often says that Rhodopis is like a rose which, while fading away herself, and dropping leaf after leaf, continues to shed perfume and quickening balsam for the sick and weak, and awaits in patience the wind which at last shall waft her from us.”