The story of _Sapho and Phao_ is, very shortly, as follows. Phao, a poor ferryman, is endowed by Venus with the gift of beauty. Sapho, who in Lyly's hands is stripped of all poetical attributes and becomes simply a great Queen of Sicily, sees him and instantly falls in love with him. To conceal her passion, she pretends to her ladies that she has a fever, at the same time sending for Phao, who is rumoured to have herbs for such complaints. Meanwhile Venus herself falls a victim to the charms she has bestowed upon the ferryman. Cupid is therefore called in to remedy matters on her behalf. The boy, who plays a part which no one can fail to compare with that of Puck in the _Midsummer Night's Dream_, succeeds in curing Sapho's passion, but, much to his mother's disgust, won over by the Queen's attractions, refuses to go further, and even inspires Phao with a loathing for the goddess. The play ends with Phao's departure from Sicily in despair, and Cupid's definite rebellion from the rule of Venus, resulting in his remaining with Sapho. In this story, which is practically a creation of Lyly's brain, though of course it is founded upon the classical tale of Sapho's love for Phao, our playwright presents under the form of allegory the history of Alençon's courtship of Elizabeth. Sapho, Queen of Sicily, is of course Elizabeth, Queen of England. The difficulty of Alençon's (that is Phao's) ugliness is overcome by the device of making it love's task to confer beauty upon him. Phao like Alençon quits the island and its Queen in despair; while the play is rounded off by the pretty compliment of representing love as a willing captive in Elizabeth's Court. As a play _Sapho and Phao_ shows a distinct advance upon _Campaspe_. The dialogue is less euphuistic, and therefore much more effective. The conversation between Sapho and Phao, in the scene where the latter comes with his herbs to cure the Queen, is very charming, and well expresses the passion which the one is too humble and the other too proud to show. PHAO. I know no hearb to make lovers sleepe but Heartesease, which because it groweth so high, I cannot reach: for-- SAPHO. For whom? PHAO. For such as love. SAPHO. It groweth very low, and I can never stoop to it, that-- PHAO. That what? SAPHO. That I may gather it: but why doe you sigh so, Phao? PHAO. It is mine use Madame. SAPHO. It will doe you harme and mee too: for I never heare one sighe, but I must sigh't also. PHAO. It were best then that your Ladyship give me leave to be gone: for I can but sigh. SAPHO. Nay stay: for now I beginne to sighe, I shall not leave though you be gone. But what do you thinke best for your sighing to take it away? PHAO. Yew, Madame. SAPHO. Mee? PHAO. No, Madame, yewe of the tree.