"And yet," answered Croesus, "these lovers are the most unteachable of
pupils. Convince them as clearly as you will, that their passion is only
another word for poison, fire, folly, death, they still cry, 'Tis sweet,'
and will not be hindered in their course."

As he was speaking Sappho came in. A white festal robe, with wide
sleeves, and borders of purple embroidery, fell in graceful folds round
her delicate figure, and was confined at the waist by a golden girdle.
Her hair was adorned with fresh roses, and on her bosom lay her lover's
first gift, the flashing diamond star.

She came up modestly and gracefully, and made a low obeisance to the aged
Croesus. His eyes rested long on the maidenly and lovely countenance,
and the longer he gazed the kindlier became his gaze. For a moment he
seemed to grow young again in the visions conjured up by memory, and
involuntarily he went up to the young girl, kissed her affectionately on
the forehead, and, taking her by the hand, led her to Bartja with the
words: "Take her, thy wife she must be, if the entire race of the
Achaemenidae were to conspire against us!"

"Have I no voice in the matter?" said Rhodopis, smiling through her
tears.

On hearing these words, Bartja and Sappho each took one of her hands, and
gazed entreatingly into her face. She rose to her full stature, and like
a prophetess exclaimed: "Eros, who brought you to each other, Zeus and
Apollo defend and protect you. I see you now like two fair roses on one
stem, loving and happy in the spring of life. What summer, autumn and
winter may have in store for you, lies hidden with the gods. May the