Seeing that Rhodopis’ eyes were filling with tears, Kassandane went on:  “There is, however, a good way out of our perplexity.  Leave Naukratis, and come with us to Persia.  There you can spend your last years with us and with your granddaughter, and shall be provided with a royal maintenance.”

Rhodopis shook her head, hoary but still so beautiful, and answered in a suppressed voice:  “I thank you, noble queen, for this gracious invitation, but I feel unable to accept it.  Every fibre of my heart is rooted in Greece, and I should be tearing my life out by leaving it forever.  I am so accustomed to constant activity, perfect freedom, and a stirring exchange of thought, that I should languish and die in the confinement of a harem.  Croesus had already prepared me for the gracious proposal you have just made, and I have had a long and difficult battle to fight, before I could decide on resigning my dearest blessing for my highest good.  It is not easy, but it is glorious, it is more worthy of the Greek name—­to live a good and beautiful life, than a happy one—­to follow duty rather than pleasure.  My heart will follow Sappho, but my intellect and experience belong to the Greeks; and if you should ever hear that the people of Hellas are ruled by themselves alone, by their own gods, their own laws, the beautiful and the good, then you will know that the work on which Rhodopis, in league with the noblest and best of her countrymen, has staked her life, is accomplished.  Be not angry with the Greek woman, who confesses that she would rather die free as a beggar than live in bondage as a queen, though envied by the whole world.”

Kassandane listened in amazement.  She only understood part of what Rhodopis had said, but felt that she had spoken well and nobly, and at the conclusion gave her her hand to kiss.  After a short pause, Kassandane said:  “Do what you think right, and remember, that as long as I and my daughter live, your granddaughter will never want for true and faithful love.”

“Your noble countenance and the fame of your great virtue are warrant enough for that.” answered Rhodopis.

“And also,” added the queen, “the duty which lies upon me to make good the wrong, that has been done your Sappho.”

She sighed painfully and went on:  “The little Parmys shall be carefully educated.  She seems to have much natural talent, and can sing the songs of her native country already after her mother.  I shall do nothing to check her love of music, though, in Persia the religious services are the only occasions in which that art is studied by any but the lower classes.”