Front Page Titles (by Subject) THE TRAGEDY OF DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 2
THE TRAGEDY OF DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 2 
The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 2.
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THE TRAGEDY OF DIDO, QUEEN OF CARTHAGE.
Here the curtains draw: there is discoveredJupiterdandlingGanymedeupon his knee, andHermeslying asleep.
- Come, gentle Ganymede, and play with me;
- I love thee well, say Juno what she will.
- I am much better for your worthless love,
- That will not shield me from her shrewish blows!
- To-day, whenas I filled into your cups,
- And held the cloth of pleasance whiles you drank,
- She reached me such a rap for that I spilled,
- As made the blood run down about mine ears.
- What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts?
- By Saturn's soul, and this earth-threatening hair,
- That, shaken thrice, makes nature's buildings quake,
- I vow, if she but once frown on thee more,
- To hang her, meteor-like, 'twixt heaven and earth,
- And bind her, hand and foot, with golden cords,
- As once I did for harming Hercules!
- Might I but see that pretty sport a-foot,
- O, how would I with Helen's brother laugh,
- And bring the gods to wonder at the game!
- Sweet Jupiter, if e'er I pleased thine eye,
- Or seemèd fair, wall'd-in with eagle's wings,
- Grace my immortal beauty with this boon,
- What is't, sweet wag, I should deny thy youth?
- Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes,
- As I, exhaled with thy fire-darting beams,
- Have oft driven back the horses of the Night,
- Whenas they would have haled thee from my sight.
- Sit on my knee, and call for thy content,
- Control proud Fate, and cut the thread of Time:
- Why, are not all the gods at thy command,
- And heaven and earth the bounds of thy delight?
- Vulcan shall dance to make thee laughing-sport,
- And my nine daughters sing when thou art sad;
- From Juno's bird I'll pluck her spotted pride,
- To make thee fans wherewith to cool thy face;
- And Venus' swans shall shed their silver down,
- To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed;
- Hermes no more shall show the world his wings,
- If that thy fancy in his feathers dwell,
- But, as this one, I'll tear them all from him,
- [Plucks a feather fromHermes' wings.
- Do thou but say, “their colour pleaseth me.”
- Hold here, my little love; these linkèd gems,
- [Gives jewels.
- My Juno ware upon her marriage-day,
- Put thou about thy neck, my own sweet heart,
- And trick thy arms and shoulders with my theft.
- I would have a jewel for mine ear,
- And a fine brooch to put in[to] my hat,
- And then I'll hug with you an hundred times.
- And shall have, Ganymede, if thou wilt be my love.
- Ay, this is it: you can sit toying there,
- And playing with that female wanton boy,
- Whiles my Æneas wanders on the seas,
- And rests a prey to every billow's pride.
- Juno, false Juno, in her chariot's pomp,
- Drawn through the heavens by steeds of Boreas' brood,
- Made Hebe to direct her airy wheels
- Into the windy country of the clouds;
- Where, finding Æolus entrenched with storms,
- And guarded with a thousand grisly ghosts,
- She humbly did beseech him for our bane,
- And charged him drown my son with all his train.
- Then gan the winds break ope their brazen doors,
- And all Æolia to be up in arms;
- Poor Troy must now be sacked upon the sea,
- And Neptune's waves be envious men of war;
- Epeus' horse, to Ætna's hill transform'd,
- Preparèd stands to wreck their wooden walls;
- And Æolus, like Agamemnon, sounds
- The surges, his fierce soldiers, to the spoil:
- See how the night, Ulysses-like, comes forth,
- And intercepts the day, as Dolon erst!
- Ay me! the stars supprised, like Rhesus' steeds,
- Are drawn by darkness forth Astræus' tents.
- What shall I do to save thee, my sweet boy?
- Whenas the waves do threat our crystal world,
- And Proteus, raising hills of floods on high,
- Intends, ere long, to sport him in the sky.
- False Jupiter, reward'st thou virtue so?
- What, is not piety exempt from woe?
- Then die, Æneas, in thine innocence,
- Since that religion hath no recompense.
- Content thee, Cytherea, in thy care,
- Since thy Æneas' wandering fate is firm,
- Whose weary limbs shall shortly make repose
- In those fair walls I promised him of yore.
- But, first, in blood must his good fortune bud,
- Before he be the lord of Turnus' town,
- Or force her smile that hitherto hath frowned:
- Three winters shall he with the Rutiles war,
- And, in the end, subdue them with his sword;
- And full three summers likewise shall he waste
- In managing those fierce barbarian minds;
- Which once performed, poor Troy, so long suppressed,
- From forth her ashes shall advance her head,
- And flourish once again, that erst was dead.
- But bright Ascanius, beauty's better work,
- Who with the sun divides one radiant shape,
- Shall build his throne amidst those starry towers
- That earth-born Atlas, groaning, underprops:
- No bounds, but heaven, shall bound his empery,
- Whose azured gates, enchasèd with his name,
- Shall make the Morning haste her grey uprise,
- To feed her eyes with his engraven fame.
- Thus, in stout Hector's race, three hundred years
- The Roman sceptre royal shall remain,
- Till that a princess-priest, conceived by Mars,
- Shall yield to dignity a double birth,
- Who will eternish Troy in their attempts.
- How may I credit these thy flattering terms,
- When yet both sea and sands beset their ships,
- And Phœbus, as in Stygian pools, refrains
- To taint his tresses in the Tyrrhene main?
- I will take order for that presently.—
- Hermes, awake! and haste to Neptune's realm,
- Whereas the wind-god, warring now with fate,
- Besiege[s] th' offspring of our kingly loins:
- Charge him from me to turn his stormy powers,
- And fetter them in Vulcan's sturdy brass,
- That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsman's peace.
- Venus, farewell: thy son shall be our care.—
- Come, Ganymede, we must about this gear.
- Disquiet seas, lay down your swelling looks,
- And court Æneas with your calmy cheer,
- Whose beauteous burden well might make you proud,
- Had not the heavens, conceiv'd with hell-born clouds,
- Veil'd his resplendent glory from your view:
- For my sake, pity him, Oceanus,
- That erst-while issu'd from thy watery loins,
- And had my being from thy bubbling froth.
- Triton, I know, hath filled his trump with Troy,
- And therefore will take pity on his toil,
- And call both Thetis and Cymothoe
- To succour him in this extremity.
- Enteræneas, Ascanius, Achates, and others.
- What do I see? my son now come on shore?
- Venus, how art thou compassed with content,
- The while thine eyes attract their sought-for joys!
- Great Jupiter, still honoured mayst thou be
- For this so friendly aid in time of need!
- Here in this bush disguisèd will I stand,
- Whiles my Æneas spends himself in plaints,
- And heaven and earth with his unrest acquaints.
- You sons of care, companions of my course,
- Priam's misfortune follows us by sea,
- And Helen's rape doth haunt us at the heels.
- How many dangers have we overpass'd!
- Both barking Scylla, and the sounding rocks,
- The Cyclops' shelves, and grim Ceraunia's seat,
- Have you o'ergone, and yet remain alive.
- Pluck up your hearts, since Fate still rests our friend,
- And changing heavens may those good days return,
- Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride.
- Brave prince of Troy, thou only art our god,
- That by thy virtues free'st us from annoy,
- And makes our hopes survive to coming joys:
- Do thou but smile, and cloudy heaven will clear,
- Whose night and day descendeth from thy brows.
- Though we be now in extreme misery,
- And rest the map of weather-beaten woe,
- Yet shall the agèd sun shed forth his hair,
- To make us live unto our former heat,
- And every beast the forest doth send forth
- Father, I faint; good father, give me meat.
- Alas! sweet boy, thou must be still a while,
- Till we have fire to dress the meat we killed!
- Gentle Achates, reach the tinder-box,
- That we may make a fire to warm us with,
- And roast our new-found victuals on this shore.
- See, what strange arts necessity finds out!
- How near, my sweet Æneas, art thou driven!
- Hold; take this candle, and go light a fire;
- You shall have leaves and windfall boughs enow,
- Near to these woods, to roast your meat withal.—
- Ascanius, go and dry thy drenchèd limbs,
- Whiles I with my Achates rove abroad,
- To know what coast the wind hath driven us on,
- Or whether men or beasts inhabit it.
- [ExeuntAscaniusand others.
- The air is pleasant, and the soil most fit
- For cities and society's supports;
- Yet much I marvel that I cannot find
- No steps of men imprinted in the earth.
- Now is the time for me to play my part.—
- Ho, young men! saw you, as you came,
- Any of all my sisters wandering here,
- Having a quiver girded to her side,
- And clothèd in a spotted leopard's skin?
- I neither saw nor heard of any such.
- But what may I, fair virgin, call your name,
- Whose looks set forth no mortal form to view,
- Nor speech bewrays aught human in thy birth?
- Thou art a goddess that delud'st our eyes,
- And shrouds thy beauty in this borrow'd shape;
- But whether thou the Sun's bright sister be,
- Or one of chaste Diana's fellow-nymphs,
- Live happy in the height of all content,
- And lighten our extremes with this one boon,
- As to instruct us under what good heaven
- We breathe as now, and what this world is called
- On which by tempests' fury we are cast:
- Tell us, O, tell us, that are ignorant!
- And this right hand shall make thy altars crack
- With mountain-heaps of milk-white sacrifice.
- Such honour, stranger, do I not affect:
- It is the use for Tyrian maids to wear
- Their bow and quiver in this modest sort,
- And suit themselves in purple for the nonce,
- That they may trip more lightly o'er the lawnds,
- And overtake the tuskèd boar in chase.
- But for the land whereof thou dost inquire,
- It is the Punic kingdom, rich and strong,
- Adjoining on Agenor's stately town,
- The kingly seat of Southern Libya,
- Whereas Sidonian Dido rules as queen.
- But what are you that ask of me these things?
- Whence may you come, or whither will you go?
- Of Troy am I, Æneas is my name;
- Who, driven by war from forth my native world,
- Put sails to sea to seek out Italy;
- And my divine descent from sceptred Jove:
- With twice twelve Phrygian ships I plough'd the deep,
- And made that way my mother Venus led;
- But of them all scarce seven do anchor safe,
- And they so wrecked and weltered by the waves,
- As every tide tilts 'twixt their oaken sides;
- And all of them, unburdened of their load,
- Are ballassèd with billows' watery weight.
- But hapless I, God wot, poor and unknown,
- Do trace these Libyan deserts, all despised,
- Exiled forth Europe and wide Asia both,
- And have not any coverture but heaven.
- Fortune hath favour'd thee, whate'er thou be,
- In sending thee unto this courteous coast.
- A' God's name, on! and haste thee to the court,
- Where Dido will receive ye with her smiles;
- And for thy ships, which thou supposest lost,
- Not one of them hath perish'd in the storm,
- But are arrivèd safe, not far from hence:
- And so I leave thee to thy fortune's lot,
- Wishing good luck unto thy wandering steps.
- Achates, 'tis my mother that is fled;
- I know her by the movings of her feet.—
- Stay, gentle Venus, fly not from thy son!
- Too cruel, why wilt thou forsake me thus,
- Or in these shades deceiv'st mine eyes so oft?
- Why talk we not together hand in hand,
- And tell our griefs in more familiar terms?
- But thou art gone, and leav'st me here alone,
- To dull the air with my discoursive moan.
EnterIarbas, followed byIlioneus, Cloanthus, , Sergestus, and others.
- Follow, ye Trojans, follow this brave lord,
- And plain to him the sum of your distress.
- Why, what are you, or wherefore do you sue?
- Wretches of Troy, envied of the winds,
- That crave such favour at your honour's feet
- As poor distressèd misery may plead:
- Save, save, O, save our ships from cruel fire,
- That do complain the wounds of thousand waves,
- And spare our lives, whom every spite pursues!
- We come not, we, to wrong your Libyan gods,
- Or steal your household Lares from their shrines;
- Our hands are not prepared to lawless spoil,
- Nor armèd to offend in any kind;
- Such force is far from our unweapon'd thoughts
- Whose fading weal, of victory forsook,
- Forbids all hope to harbour near our hearts.
- But tell me, Trojans, Trojans if you be,
- Unto what fruitful quarters were ye bound,
- Before that Boreas buckled with your sails?
- There is a place, Hesperia termed by us,
- An ancient empire, famousèd for arms,
- And fertile in fair Ceres' furrowed wealth,
- Which now we call Italia, of his name
- That in such peace long time did rule the same.
- Thither made we;
- When, suddenly, gloomy Orion rose,
- And led our ships into the shallow sands,
- Whereas the southern wind with brackish breath
- Dispersed them all amongst the wreckful rocks:
- From thence a few of us escaped to land;
- The rest, we fear, are folded in the floods.
- Brave men-at-arms, abandon fruitless fears,
- Since Carthage knows to entertain distress.
- Ay, but the barbarous sort do threat our ships,
- And will not let us lodge upon the sands;
- In multitudes they swarm unto the shore,
- Myself will see they shall not trouble ye:
- Your men and you shall banquet in our court,
- And every Trojan be as welcome here
- As Jupiter to silly Baucis' house.
- Come in with me; I'll bring ye to my queen,
- Thanks, gentle lord, for such unlook'd-for grace:
- Might we but once more see Æneas' face,
- Then would we hope to quite such friendly turns,
- As shall surpass the wonder of our speech.
Enteræneas, Achates, Ascanius, and others.
- Where am I now? these should be Carthage-walls.
- Why stands my sweet Æneas thus amaz'd?
- O my Achates, Theban Niobe,
- Who for her sons' death wept out life and breath,
- And, dry with grief, was turned into a stone,
- Had not such passions in her head as I!
- That town there should be Troy, yon Ida's hill,
- There Xanthus' stream, because here's Priamus;
- And when I know it is not, then I die.
- And in this humour is Achates too;
- I cannot choose but fall upon my knees,
- And kiss his hand. O, where is Hecuba?
- Here she was wont to sit; but, saving air,
- Is nothing here; and what is this but stone?
- O, yet this stone doth make Æneas weep!
- And would my prayers (as Pygmalion's did)
- Could give it life, that under his conduct
- We might sail back to Troy, and be revenged
- On these hard-hearted Grecians which rejoice
- That nothing now is left of Priamus!
- O, Priamus is left, and this is he!
- Come, come aboard; pursue the hateful Greeks,
- Achates, though mine eyes say this is stone,
- Yet thinks my mind that this is Priamus;
- And when my grievèd heart sighs and says no,
- Then would it leap out to give Priam life.—
- O, were I not at all, so thou mightst be,—
- Achates, see, King Priam wags his hand!
- He is alive; Troy is not overcome!
- Thy mind, Æneas, that would have it so,
- Deludes thy eye-sight; Priamus is dead.
- Ah, Troy is sack'd, and Priamus is dead!
- And why should poor Æneas be alive?
- Sweet father, leave to weep; this is not he,
- For, were it Priam, he would smile on me.
- Æneas, see, here come the citizens:
- Leave to lament, lest they laugh at our fears.
- EnterCloanthus, Sergestus, Ilioneus, and others.
- Lords of this town, or whatsoever style
- Belongs unto your name, vouchsafe of ruth
- To tell us who inhabits this fair town,
- What kind of people, and who governs them;
- For we are strangers driven on this shore,
- And scarcely know within what clime we are.
- I hear Æneas' voice, but see him not,
- For none of these can be our general.
- Like Ilioneus speaks this nobleman,
- But Ilioneus goes not in such robes.
- You are Achates, or I [am] deceiv'd.
- Æneas, see, Sergestus, or his ghost!
- He names Æneas; let us kiss his feet.
- It is our captain; see Ascanius!
- Live long Æneas and Ascanius!
- Achates, speak, for I am overjoyed.
- O Ilioneus, art thou yet alive?
- Blest be the time I see Achates' face!
- Why turns Æneas from his trusty friends?
- Sergestus, Ilioneus, and the rest,
- Your sight amazed me. O, what destinies
- Have brought my sweet companions in such
- O, tell me, for I long to be resolved!
- Lovely Æneas, these are Carthage-walls;
- And here Queen Dido wears th' imperial crown,
- Who for Troy's sake hath entertained us all,
- And clad us in these wealthy robes we wear.
- Oft hath she asked us under whom we served;
- And, when we told her, she would weep for grief,
- Thinking the sea had swallowed up thy ships;
- And, now she sees thee, how will she rejoice!
- See, where her servitors pass through the hall,
- Bearing a banquet: Dido is not far.
- Look, where she comes; Æneas, view her well.
- Well may I view her; but she sees not me.
- EnterDido, Anna, Iarbas, and train.
- What stranger art thou, that dost eye me thus?
- Sometime I was a Trojan, mighty queen;
- But Troy is not:—what shall I say I am?
- Renowmèd Dido, 'tis our general,
- Warlike Æneas.
- Warlike Æneas, and in these base robes!
- Go fetch the garment which Sichæus ware.—
- [Exit an Attendant, who brings in the garment, whichæneasputs on.
- Brave prince, welcome to Carthage and to me,
- Both happy that Æneas is our guest.
- Sit in this chair, and banquet with a queen:
- Æneas is Æneas, were he clad
- This is no seat for one that's comfortless;
- May it please your grace to let Æneas wait;
- For though my birth be great, my fortune's mean,
- Too mean to be companion to a queen.
- Thy fortune may be greater than thy birth:
- Sit down, Æneas, sit in Dido's place;
- And, if this be thy son, as I suppose,
- Here let him sit.—Be merry, lovely child.
- This place beseems me not; O, pardon me!
- I'll have it so; Æneas, be content.
- Madam, you shall be my mother.
- And so I will, sweet child.—Be merry, man:
- Here's to thy better fortune and good stars.
- In all humility, I thank your grace.
- Remember who thou art; speak like thyself.
- Humility belongs to common grooms.
- And who so miserable as Æneas is?
- Lies it in Dido's hands to make thee blest?
- Then be assur'd thou art not miserable.
- O Priamus, O Troy, O Hecuba!
- May I entreat thee to discourse at large,
- And truly too, how Troy was overcome?
- For many tales go of that city's fall,
- And scarcely do agree upon one point:
- Some say Antenor did betray the town;
- Others report 'twas Sinon's perjury;
- But all in this, that Troy is overcome,
- A woful tale bids Dido to unfold,
- Whose memory, like pale Death's stony mace,
- Beats forth my senses from this troubled soul,
- And makes Æneas sink at Dido's feet.
- What, faints Æneas to remember Troy,
- In whose defence he fought so valiantly?
- Look up, and speak.
- Then speak, Æneas, with Achilles' tongue:
- And, Dido, and you Carthaginian peers,
- Hear me; but yet with Myrmidons' harsh ears,
- Daily inured to broils and massacres,
- Lest you be mov'd too much with my sad tale.
- The Grecian soldiers, tir'd with ten years' war,
- Began to cry, “Let us unto our ships,
- Troy is invincible, why stay we here?”
- With whose outcries Atrides being appalled
- Summon'd the captains to his princely tent;
- Who, looking on the scars we Trojans gave,
- Seeing the number of their men decreas'd,
- And the remainder weak and out of heart,
- Gave up their voices to dislodge the camp,
- And so in troops all marched to Tenedos;
- Where when they came, Ulysses on the sand
- Assayed with honey words to turn them back;
- And, as he spoke, to further his intent,
- The winds did drive huge billows to the shore,
- And heaven was darkened with tempestuous clouds;
- Then he alleg'd the gods would have them stay,
- And prophesied Troy should be overcome:
- And therewithal he call'd false Sinon forth,
- A man compact of craft and perjury,
- Whose ticing tongue was made of Hermes' pipe,
- To force an hundred watchful eyes to sleep;
- And him, Epeus having made the horse,
- With sacrificing wreaths upon his head,
- Ulysses sent to our unhappy town;
- Who, grovelling in the mire of Xanthus' banks,
- His hands bound at his back, and both his eyes
- Turned up to heaven, as one resolved to die,
- Our Phrygian shepherd[s] haled within the gates,
- And brought unto the court of Priamus;
- To whom he used action so pitiful,
- Looks so remorseful, vows so forcible,
- As therewithal the old man overcome,
- Kissed him, embraced him, and unloosed his bands;
- And then—O Dido, pardon me!
- Nay, leave not here; resolve me of the rest.
- O, th' enchanting words of that base slave
- Made him to think Epeus' pine-tree horse
- A sacrifice t' appease Minerva's wrath!
- The rather, for that one Laocoon,
- Breaking a spear upon his hollow breast,
- Was with two wingèd serpents stung to death.
- Whereat aghast, we were commanded straight
- With reverence to draw it into Troy:
- In which unhappy work was I employed;
- These hands did help to hale it to the gates,
- Through which it could not enter, 'twas so huge,—
- O, had it never enter'd, Troy had stood!
- But Priamus, impatient of delay.
- Enforced a wide breach in that rampired wall
- Which thousand battering-rams could never pierce,
- And so came in this fatal instrument:
- At whose accursèd feet, as overjoyed.
- We banqueted, till, overcome with wine,
- Some surfeited, and others soundly slept.
- Which Sinon viewing, caus'd the Greekish spies
- To haste to Tenedos, and tell the camp:
- Then he unlocked the horse; and suddenly,
- From out his entrails, Neoptolemus,
- Setting his spear upon the ground, leapt forth,
- And, after him, a thousand Grecians more,
- In whose stern faces shined the quenchless fire
- That after burnt the pride of Asia.
- By this, the camp was come unto the walls,
- And through the breach did march into the streets,
- Where, meeting with the rest; “Kill, kill!” they cried.
- Frighted with this confusèd noise, I rose,
- And, looking from a turret, might behold
- Young infants swimming in their parents' blood,
- Headless carcases pilèd up in heaps,
- Virgins half-dead, dragged by their golden hair,
- And with main force flung on a ring of pikes,
- Old men with swords thrust through their agèd sides,
- Kneeling for mercy to a Greekish lad,
- Who with steel pole-axes dash'd out their brains.
- Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword,
- And thinking to go down, came Hector's ghost,
- With ashy visage, blueish sulphur eyes,
- His arms toin from his shoulders, and his breast
- Furrowed with wounds, and, that which made me weep.
- Thongs at his heels, by which Achilles' horse
- Drew him in triumph through the Greekish camp,
- Burst from the earth, crying “Æneas, fly!
- O Hector, who weeps not to hear thy name?
- Yet flung I forth, and, desperate of my life,
- Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this sword
- Sent many of their savage ghosts to hell.
- At last came Pyrrhus, fell and full of ire,
- His harness dropping blood, and on his spear
- The mangled head of Priam's youngest son;
- And, after him, his band of Myrmidons,
- With balls of wild-fire in their murdering paws,
- Which made the funeral flame that burnt fair Troy;
- All which hemmed me about, crying, “This is he!”
- Ah, how could poor Æneas scape their hands?
- My mother Venus, jealous of my health,
- Convey'd me from their crookèd nets and bands;
- So I escaped the furious Pyrrhus' wrath
- Who then ran to the palace of the king,
- And at Jove's altar finding Priamus.
- About whose withered neck hung Hecuba,
- Folding his hand in hers, and jointly both
- Beating their breasts, and falling on the ground,
- He, with his falchion's point raised up at once,
- And with Megæra's eyes, star'd in their face,
- Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance
- To whom the agèd king thus, trembling, spoke;
- “Achilles' son, remember what I was,
- Father of fifty sons, but they are slain;
- Lord of my fortune, but my fortune's turned:
- King of this city, but my Troy is fired;
- And now am neither father, lord, nor king:
- Yet who so wretched but desires to live?
- O, let me live, great Neoptolemus!”
- Not moved at all, but smiling at his tears,
- This butcher, whilst his hands were yet held up,
- Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands.
- O, end, Æneas! I can hear no more.
- At which the frantic queen leaped on his face,
- And in his eyelids hanging by the nails,
- A little while prolonged her husband's life.
- At last, the soldiers pull'd her by the heels,
- And swung her howling in the empty air,
- Which sent an echo to the wounded king:
- Whereat he lifted up his bed-rid limbs,
- And would have grappled with Achilles' son,
- Forgetting both his want of strength and hands;
- Which he disdaining, whisk'd his sword about,
- And with the wind a thereof the king fell down;
- Then from the navel to the throat at once
- He ripp'd old Priam; at whose latter gasp
- Jove's marble statue gan to bend the brow,
- As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act.
- Yet he, undaunted, took his father's flag,
- And dipped it in the old king's chill-cold blood,
- And then in triumph ran into the streets,
- Through which he could not pass for slaughter'd men;
- So, leaning on his sword, he stood stone-still,
- Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt.
- By this, I got my father on my back,
- This young boy in mine arms, and by the hand
- Led fair Creusa, my belovèd wife;
- When thou, Achates, with thy sword mad'st way,
- And we were round environed with the Greeks:
- O, there I lost my wife! and, had not we
- Fought manfully, I had not told this tale.
- Yet manhood would not serve; of force we fled;
- And, as we went unto our ships, thou know'st
- We saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets,
- Whom Ajax ravished in Diana's fane,
- Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent;
- Whom I took up to bear unto our ships;
- But suddenly the Grecians followed us,
- And I, alas, was forced to let her lie!
- Then got we to our ships, and, being aboard,
- Polyxena cried out, “Æneas, stay!
- The Greeks pursue me; stay, and take me in!”
- Moved with her voice, I leap'd into the sea,
- Thinking to bear her on my back aboard,
- For all our ships were launched into the deep,
- And, as I swom, she, standing on the shore,
- Was by the cruel Myrmidons surprised,
- And, after that, by Pyrrhus sacrificed.
- I die with melting ruth; Æneas, leave.
- O, what became of agèd Hecuba?
- How got Æneas to the fleet again?
- But how scaped Helen, she that caus'd this war?
- Achates, speak; sorrow hath tir'd me quite.
- What happen'd to the queen we cannot show;
- We hear they led her captive into Greece:
- As for Æneas, he swom quickly back;
- And Helena betrayed Deiphobus,
- Her lover, after Alexander died,
- And so was reconciled to Menelaus.
- O, had that ticing strumpet ne'er been born!—
- Trojan, thy ruthful tale hath made me sad:
- Come, let us think upon some pleasing sport,
- To rid me from these melancholy thoughts.
- [Exeunt all exceptAscanius, whomVenus, entering withCupidat another door, takes by the sleeve as he is going off.
- Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting-maid:
- I'll give thee sugar-almonds, sweet conserves,
- A silver girdle, and a golden purse,
- And this young prince shall be thy playfellow.
- Are you Queen Dido's son?
- Ay; and my mother gave me this fine bow.
- Shall I have such a quiver and a bow?
- Such bow, such quiver, and such golden shafts,
- Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius.
- For Dido's sake I take thee in my arms,
- And stick these spangled feathers in thy hat:
- Eat comfits in mine arms, and I will sing.
- Now is he fast asleep; and in this grove,
- Amongst green brakes, I'll lay Ascanius,
- And strew him with sweet-smelling violets,
- Blushing roses, purple hyacinth:
- These milk-white doves shall be his centronels,
- Who, if that any seek to do him hurt,
- Will quickly fly to Cytherea's fist.
- Now, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' shape,
- And go to Dido, who, instead of him,
- Will set thee on her lap, and play with thee:
- Then touch her white breast with this arrow-head,
- That she may dote upon Æneas' love,
- And by that means repair his broken ships,
- Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts,
- And he, at last, depart to Italy,
- Or else in Carthage make his kingly throne.
- I will, fair mother; and so play my part
- As every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart.
- Sleep, my sweet nephew, in these cooling shades,
- Free from the murmur of these running streams,
- The cry of beasts, the rattling of the winds,
- Or whisking of these leaves: all shall be still,
- And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep,
- Till I return, and take thee hence again.
- Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queen
- To be enamour'd of thy brother's looks:
- Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve,
- Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son;
- And when she strokes thee softly on the head,
- Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.
- EnterDido, Anna, andIarbas.
- How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee?
- 'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love,
- But that I may enjoy what I desire:
- That love is childish which consists in words.
- Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my wooers,—
- And yet have I had many mightier kings,—
- Hast had the greatest favours I could give.
- I fear me, Dido hath been counted light
- In being too familiar with Iarbas;
- Albeit the gods do know, no wanton thought
- But Dido is the favour I request.
- Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine.
- Look, sister, how Æneas' little son
- Plays with your garments and embraceth you.
- No, Dido will not take me in her arms;
- I shall not be her son, she loves me not.
- Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son:
- Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing.
- No more, my child; now talk another while,
- And tell me where learn'dst thou this pretty song.
- My cousin Helen taught it me in Troy.
- How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles!
- Will Dido let me hang about her neck?
- Ay, wag; and give thee leave to kiss her too.
- What will you give me now? I'll have this fan.
- Take it, Ascanius, for thy father's sake.
- Come, Dido, leave Ascanius; let us walk.
- Go thou away; Ascanius shall stay.
- Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me?
- O, stay, Iarbas, and I'll go with thee!
- An if my mother go, I'll follow her.
- Why stay'st thou here? thou art no love of mine.
- Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee!
- No; live, Iarbas: What hast thou deserved,
- That I should say thou art no love of mine?
- Something thou hast deserved.—Away, I say!
- Depart from Carthage; come not in my sight.
- Am I not king of rich Gætulia?
- Iarbas, pardon me, and stay a while.
- What tell'st thou me of rich Gætulia?
- Am not I queen of Libya? then depart.
- I go to feed the humour of my love,
- Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.
- No; but I charge thee never look on me.
- Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die.
- Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go?
- Because his loathsome sight offends mine eye,
- And in my thoughts is shrined another love.
- Poor soul, I know too well the sour of love:
- O, that Iarbas could but fancy me!
- Is not Æneas fair and beautiful?
- Yes; and Iarbas foul and favourless.
- Is he not eloquent in all his speech?
- Yes; and Iarbas rude and rustical.
- Name not Iarbas: but, sweet Anna, say,
- Is not Æneas worthy Dido's love?
- O sister, were you empress of the world,
- Æneas well deserves to be your love!
- So lovely is he, that, where'er he goes,
- The people swarm to gaze him in the face.
- But tell them, none shall gaze on him but I,
- Lest their gross eye-beams taint my lover's cheeks.
- Anna, good sister Anna, go for him,
- Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean away.
- Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love?
- Yet must I hear that loathsome name again?
- Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him.
- You shall not hurt my father when he comes.
- No; for thy sake I'll love thy father well.—
- O dull-conceited Dido, that till now
- Didst never think Æneas beautiful!
- But now, for quittance of this oversight,
- I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair;
- His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass;
- His lips an altar, where I'll offer up
- As many kisses as the sea hath sands;
- Instead of music I will hear him speak;
- His looks shall be my only library;
- And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury,
- In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealth
- Than twenty thousand Indias can afford.
- O, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leave
- To be more modest than her thoughts admit,
- Lest I be made a wonder to the world.
- Enteræneas, Achates, Sergestus, Ilioneus, andCloanthus.
- Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord?
- That will Æneas show your majesty.
- I understand your highness sent for me.
- No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in sooth,
- In what might Dido highly pleasure thee.
- So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands,
- As, without blushing, I can ask no more:
- Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships unrigg'd,
- My sails all rent in sunder with the wind,
- My oars broken, and my tackling lost,
- Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves;
- Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet;
- Our masts the furious winds struck overboard.
- Which piteous wants if Dido will supply,
- We will account her author of our lives.
- Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships,
- Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me,
- And let Achates sail to Italy:
- I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled gold,
- Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;
- Oars of massy ivory, full of holes,
- Through which the water shall delight to play;
- Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks,
- Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves;
- The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang,
- Hollow pyramides of silver plate;
- The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wrought
- The wars of Troy,—but not Troy's overthrow;
- For ballace, empty Dido's treasury:
- Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here.
- Achates, thou shalt be so seemly clad,
- As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships.
- And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs,
- Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth
- Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck,
- So that Æneas may but stay with me.
- Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay?
- To war against my bordering enemies.
- Æneas, think not Dido is in love;
- For, if that any man could conquer me,
- I had been wedded ere Æneas came
- See, where the pictures of my suitors hang;
- And are not these as fair as fair may be?
- I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd.
- I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen.
- This man and I were at Olympia's games,
- I know this face; he is a Persian born:
- I travell'd with him to Ætolia.
- And I in Athens with this gentleman,
- Unless I be deceived, disputed once.
- But speak, Æneas; know you none of these?
- No, madam; but it seems that these are kings.
- All these, and others which I never saw,
- Have been most urgent suitors for my love;
- Some came in person, others sent their legates,
- Yet none obtained me: I am free from all;
- And yet, God knows, entangled unto one.
- This was an orator, and thought by words
- To compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd:
- And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild;
- But his fantastic humours pleased not me:
- This was Alcion, a musician;
- But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go.
- This was the wealthy king of Thessaly;
- But I had gold enough, and cast him off:
- This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince;
- But weapons gree not with my tender years:
- The rest are such as all the world well knows:
- Yet now I swear, by heaven and him I love,
- I was as far from love as they from hate.
- O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves!
- Then never say that thou art miserable,
- Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love;
- Yet boast not of it, for I love thee not,—
- And yet I hate thee not.—O, if I speak,
- I shall betray myself! [Aside.]—Æneas, come:
- We two will go a-hunting in the woods;
- But not so much for thee,—thou art but one,—
- As for Achates and his followers.
EnterJunotoAscanius, who lies asleep.
- Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd brat,
- The boy wherein false Destiny delights,
- The heir of Fury, the favourite of the Fates,
- That ugly imp that shall outwear my wrath,
- And wrong my deity with high disgrace.
- But I will take another order now,
- And raze th' eternal register of Time:
- Troy shall no more call him her second hope,
- Nor Venus triumph in his tender youth;
- For here, in spite of Heaven, I'll murder him,
- And feed infection with his let-out life.
- Say, Paris, now shall Venus have the ball?
- Say, vengeance, now shall her Ascanius die?
- O no! God wot, I cannot watch my time,
- Nor quit good turns with double fee down told:
- Tut, I am simple, without mind to hurt,
- And have no gall at all to grieve my foes!
- But lustful Jove and his adulterous child
- Shall find it written on confusion's front,
- That only Juno rules in Rhamnus town.
- What should this mean? my doves are back return'd
- Who warn me of such danger prest at hand
- To harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.—
- Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here?
- Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrath
- Should e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine!
- Are not we both sprung of celestial race,
- And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods?
- Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin
- Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites?
- Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son,
- Had not my doves discovered thy intent:
- But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head,
- And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls,
- If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.
- Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall have
- For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings,
- That would have killed him, sleeping, as he lay?
- What, though I was offended with thy son,
- And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land,
- When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede,
- That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame,
- And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball,
- I mustered all the winds unto his wreck,
- And urg'd each element to his annoy?
- Yet now I do repent me of his ruth,
- And wish that I had never wrong'd him so.
- Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fate
- That hath so many unresisted friends:
- Wherefore I changed my counsel with the time,
- And planted love where envy erst had sprung.
- Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such
- As these thy protestations do paint forth,
- We two, as friends, one fortune will divide:
- Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap,
- And to a sceptre change his golden shafts;
- Fancy and modesty shall live as mates,
- And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch:
- Love my Æneas, and desire is thine;
- The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine.
- More than melodious are these words to me,
- That overcloy my soul with their content.
- Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserve
- Such amorous favours at thy beauteous hand?
- But, that thou mayst more easily perceive
- How highly I do prize this amity,
- Hark to a motion of eternal league,
- Which I will make in quittance of thy love.
- Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains,
- And feeds his eyes with favours of her court;
- She, likewise, in admiring spends her time,
- And cannot talk nor think of aught but him:
- Why should not they, then, join in marriage,
- And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage-town,
- Whom casualty of sea hath made such friends?
- And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'd
- Betwixt these two, whose loves are so alike;
- And both our deities, conjoin'd in one,
- Shall chain felicity unto their throne.
- Well could I like this reconcilement's means;
- But much I fear my son will ne'er consent,
- Whose armèd soul, already on the sea,
- Darts forth her light [un]to Lavinia's shore.
- Fair queen of love, I will divorce these doubts,
- And find my way to weary such fond thoughts.
- This day they both a-hunting forth will ride
- Into the woods adjoining to these walls;
- When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports,
- I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works,
- And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers;
- Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet,
- And interchangeably discourse their thoughts,
- Whose short conclusion will seal up their hearts
- Unto the purpose which we now propound.
- Sister, I see you savour of my wiles:
- Be it as you will have [it] for this once.
- Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge;
- Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms,
- And couch him in Adonis' purple down.
EnterDido, æneas, Anna, Iarbas, Achates, CupidasAscanius, and Followers.
- Æneas, think not but I honour thee,
- That thus in person go with thee to hunt:
- My princely robes, thou see'st, are laid aside,
- Whose glittering pomp Diana's shroud supplies;
- All fellows now, disposed alike to sport;
- The woods are wide, and we have store of game.
- Fair Trojan, hold my golden bow a while,
- Until I gird my quiver to my side.—
- Lords, go before; we two must talk alone.
- Ungentle, can she wrong Iarbas so?
- I'll die before a stranger have that grace.
- “We two will talk alone”—what words be these!
- What makes Iarbas here of all the rest?
- We could have gone without your company.
- But love and duty led him on perhaps
- To press beyond acceptance to your sight.
- Why! man of Troy, do I offend thine eyes?
- Or art thou grieved thy betters press so nigh?
- How now, Gætulian! are you grown so brave,
- To challenge us with your comparisons?
- Peasant, go seek companions like thyself,
- And meddle not with any that I love.—
- Æneas, be not moved at what he says;
- Women may wrong by privilege of love;
- But, should that man of men, Dido except,
- Have taunted me in these opprobrious terms,
- I would have either drunk his dying blood,
- Or else I would have given my life in gage.
- Huntsmen, why pitch you not your toils apace,
- And rouse the light-foot deer from forth their lair?
- Sister, see, see Ascanius in his pomp,
- Bearing his hunt-spear bravely in his hand!
- Yea, little son, are you so forward now?
- Ay, mother; I shall one day be a man,
- And better able unto other arms;
- Meantime these wanton weapons serve my war,
- Which I will break betwixt a lion's jaws.
- What? dar'st thou look a lion in the face?
- Ay; and outface him too, do what he can.
- How like his father speaketh he in all!
- And mought I live to see him sack rich Thebes,
- And load his spear with Grecian princes' heads,
- Then would I wish me with Anchises' tomb,
- And might I live to see thee shipp'd away,
- And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills,
- Then would I wish me in fair Dido's arms,
- And dead to scorn that hath pursu'd me so.
- Stout friend Achates, dost thou know this wood?
- As I remember, here you shot the deer
- That saved your famish'd soldiers' lives from death,
- When first you set your foot upon the shore;
- And here we met fair Venus, virgin—like.
- Bearing her bow and quiver at her back.
- O, how these irksome labours now delight,
- And overjoy my thoughts with their escape!
- Who would not undergo all kind of toil,
- To be well—stor'd with such a winter's tale?
- Æneas, leave these dumps, and let's away.
- Some to the mountains, some unto the soil,
- You to the valleys,—thou unto the house.
- [Exeunt all exceptIarbas.
- Ay, this it is which wounds me to the death,
- To see a Phrygian, far—fet o'er the sea,
- Preferr'd before a man of majesty.
- O love! O hate! O cruel women's hearts,
- That imitate the moon in every change,
- And, like the planets, ever love to range!
- What shall I do, thus wronged with disdain?
- Revenge me on Æneas or on her?
- On her! fond man, that were to war 'gainst heaven,
- And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts.
- This Trojan's end will be thy envy's aim,
- Whose blood will reconcile thee to content,
- And make love drunken with thy sweet desire.
- But Dido, that now holdeth him so dear,
- Will die with very tidings of his death:
- But time will discontinue her content,
- And mould her mind unto new fancy's shapes,
- O God of heaven, turn the hand of Fate
- Unto that happy day of my delight!
- And then—what then? Iarbas shall but love:
- So doth he now, though not with equal gain;
- That resteth in the rival of thy pain,
- Who ne'er will cease to soar till he be slain.
The storm. Enter AEneas and Dido in the cave, at several times
- Tell me, dear love, how found you out this cave?
- By chance, sweet queen, as Mars and Venus met
- Why, that was in a net, where we are loose;
- And yet I am not free,—O, would I were!
- Why, what is it that Dido may desire
- And not obtain, be it in human power?
- The thing that I will die before I ask,
- And yet desire to have before I die.
- It is not aught Æneas may achieve?
- Dido, Æneas! no; although his eyes do pierce.
- What, hath Iarbas anger'd her in aught?
- And will she be avenged on his life?
- Not anger'd me, except in angering thee.
- Who, then, of all so cruel may he be
- That should detain, thy eye in his defects?
- The man that I do eye where'er I am;
- Whose amorous face, like Pæan, sparkles fire,
- Whenas he butts his beams on Flora's bed.
- Prometheus hath put on Cupid's shape,
- And I must perish in his burning arms:
- Æneas, O Æneas, quench these flames!
- What ails my queen? is she faln sick of late?
- Not sick, my love; but sick I must conceal
- The torment that it boots me not reveal:
- And yet I'll speak,-and yet I'll hold my peace.
- Do shame her worst, I will disclose my grief:
- Æneas, thou art he-what did I say?
- Something it was that now I have forgot
- What means fair Dido by this doubtful speech?
- Nay, nothing; but Æneas loves me not.
- Æneas' thoughts dare not ascend so high
- As Dido's heart, which monarchs might not scale.
- It was because I saw no king like thee,
- Whose golden crown might balance may content;
- But now that I have found what to affect
- I follow one that loveth fame 'fore me,
- And rather had seem fair [in] Sirens' eyes,
- Than to the Carthage queen that dies for him.
- If that your majesty can look so low
- As my despised worths that shun all praise,
- With this my hand I give to you my heart,
- And vow, by all the gods of hospitality,
- By heaven and earth, and my fair brother's bow,
- By Paphos, Capys, and the purple sea
- From whence my radiant mother did ascend,
- And by this sword that sav'd me from the Greeks,
- Never to leave these new-upreared walls,
- Whiles Dido lives and rules in Juno's town,-
- Never to like or love any but her!
- Dido, What more than Delian music do I hear,
- That calls my soul from forth his living seat
- To move unto the measures of delight?
- Kind clouds, that sent forth such a courteous storm
- As made disdain to fly to fancy's lap!
- Stout love, in mine arms make thy Italy,
- Whose crown and kingdom rests at thy command:
- Sichæus, not Æneas, be thou call'd;
- The king of Carthage, not Anchises' son.
- Hold, take these jewels at thy lover's hand,
- [Giving jewels, &c.
- These golden bracelets, and this wedding-ring,
- Wherewith my husband woo'd me yet a maid,
- And be thou king of Libya by my gift.
- [Exeunt to the care.
EnterAchates, Cupid as Ascanius, Iarbas, and Anna.
- Did ever men see such a sudden storm
- Or day so clear so suddenly o'ercast?
- I think some fell enchantress dwelleth here,
- That can call them forth whenas she please,
- And dive into black tempest's treasury,
- In all my life Ignever knew the like;
- It hailed, it snowed, it lightened all at once.
- I think it was the devil revelling night,
- There was such hurly-burly in the heavens:
- Doubtless Apollo's axle-tree is crack'd,
- Or aged Atlas' shoulder out of joint,
- The motion was so over-violent.
- In all this coil, where have ye left the queen?
- Nay, where's my warlike father, can you tell?
- Behold, where both of them come forth the cave,
- Come forth the cave! can heaven endure this sight?
- Iarbas curse that unrevenging Jove,
- Whose flinty dart slept in Typhœus' den,
- Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin.
- Nature, why mad'st me not some poisonous beast,
- That with the sharpness of my edged sting
- I might have staked them both unto the earth,
- Whilst they were sporting in this darksome cave!
- Enter; from the cave, Æneas andDido.
- The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.
- Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,
- Since gloomy Æolus doth cease to frown.
- Achates and Ascanius, well met
- Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the shower?
- As others did, by running to the wood.
- But where were you, Iarbas, all this while?
- Not with Æneas in the ugly cave.
- I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind;
- But I will soon put by that stumbling-block,
- And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.
EnterIarbas to sacrifice.
- Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice,
- That I may pacify that gloomy Jove,
- Whose empty altars have enlarg'd our ills.—
- [Servants bring in the sacrifice, and then exeunt.
- Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,
- Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts,
- That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven,
- When airy creatures war amongst themselves;
- Hear, hear, O, hear Iarbas' plaining prayers,
- Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl,
- And ail the woods Eliza to resound!
- The woman that thou willed us entertain.
- Where, straying in our borders up and down,
- She crav'd a hide of ground to build a town,
- With whom we did divide both laws and land,
- And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth,
- Scorning our loves and royal marriage-rites,
- Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed;
- Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway fled
- Now, if thou be'st a pitying god of power
- On whom ruth and compassion ever waits,
- Redress these wrongs, and warn him to his ships,
- That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.
- Enter Anna.
- How now, Iarbas! at your prayers so hard?
- Ay, Anna: is there aught you would with me?
- Nay, no such weighty business of import
- But may be slacked until another time:
- Yet, if you would partake with me the cause
- Of this devotion that detaineth you,
- Anna, against this Trojan do I pray,
- Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love,
- And dive into her heart by colour'd looks.
- Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain
- For her that so delighteth in thy pain!
- Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love,
- Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief.
- Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start:
- O, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts,
- That register the numbers of my ruth,
- And I will either move the thoughtless flint,
- Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears,
- Before my sorrow's tide have any stint!
- I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love,
- In this delight of dying pensiveness.
- Away with Dido! Anna be thy song;
- Anna, that doth admire thee more than heaven.
- I may nor will list to such loathsome change,
- That intercepts the course of my desire.—
- Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here;
- For I will fly from these alluring eyes,
- That do pursue my peace where'er it goes.
- [Exit.-Servants re-enter, and carry out the vessels, &c.
- Iarbas, stay, loving Iarbas, stay!
- For I have honey to present thee with.
- Hard-hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak?
- I'll follow thee with outcries ne'ertheless
- And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair.
- Carthage, my friendly host, adieu!
- Since Destiny doth call me from thy shore:
- Hermes this night, descending in a dream,
- Hath summoned me to fruitful Italy;
- Jove wills it so; my mother wills it so:
- Let my Phœnissa grant, and then I go.
- Grant she or no, Æneas must away;
- Whose golden fortunes, clogg'd with courtly ease,
- Cannot ascend to fame's immortal house,
- Or banquet in bright Honour's burnished hall,
- Till he hath furrowed Neptune's glassy fields,
- And cut a passage through his topless hills.—
- Achates, come forth! Sergestus, Ilioneus,
- Cloanthus, haste away! Ænezs calls.
- Enter Achates, Cloanthus, Sergestus, and Ilioneus.
- What wills our lord, or wherefore did he call?
- The dreams, brave mates, that did beset my bed.
- When sleep but newly had embrac'd the night
- Commands me leave these unrenowmed realms,
- Whereas nobility abhors to stay,
- And none but base Æneas will abide.
- Aboard, aboard! since Fates do bid aboard
- And slice the sea with sable-colour'd ships,
- On whom the nimble winds may all day wait,
- And follow them, as footmen, through the deep
- Yet Dido casts her eyes, like anchors, out,
- To stay my fleet from loosing forth the bay: “Come back, come back,”
- I hear her cry a-far,
- “And let me link thy body to my lips.
- That, tied together by the striving tongues,
- We may, as one, sail into Italy.”
- Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth
- And follow your fore-seeing stars in all:
- This is no life for men-at-arms to live.
- Where dalliance doth consume a soldier's strength,
- And wanton motions of alluring eyes
- Effeminate our minds, inur'd to war
- Ili Why, let us build a city of our own,
- And not stand lingering here for amorous looks.
- Will Dido raise old Priam forth his grave,
- And build the town again the Greeks did burn?
- No, no; she cares not how we sink or swim,
- So she may have Æneas in her arms,
- To Italy, sweet friends, to Italy!
- We will not stay a minute longer here.
- Trojans, aboard, and I will follow you.
- [Exeunt all except Æneas.
- I fain would go, yet beauty calls me back:
- To leave her so, and not once say farewell,
- Were to transgress against all laws of love.
- But, if I use such ceremonious thanks
- As parting friends accustom on the shore,
- Her silver arms will coll me round about,
- And tears of pearl cry, “Stay, Æneas, stay!”
- Each word she says will then contain a crown,
- And every speech be ended with a kiss:
- I may not dure this female drudgery:
- To sea, Æneas! find out Italy!
EnterDido and Anna.
- O Anna, run unto the water-side!
- They say Æneas' men are going aboard:
- It may be, he will steal away with them:
- Stay not to answer me: run, Anna, run!
- [Exit Anna.
- O foolish Trojans, that would steal from hence,
- And not let Dido understand their drift!
- I would have given Achates store of gold
- And Ilioneus gum and Libyan spice;
- The common soldiers rich embroider' coats,
- And silver whistles to control the winds,
- Which Circe sent Sichseus when he lived
- Unworthy are they of a queen's reward.
- See where they come: how might I do to chide?
- Re-enter Anna, with æneas, Achates, Cloanthus, Ilioneus, Sergestus, and Carthaginian Lords.
- “Twas time to run; Æneas had been gone;
- The sails were hoising up, and he aboard.
- O princely Dido, give me leave to speak'
- I went to take my farewell of Achates.
- How haps Achates bid me not farewell?
- Ach, Because I feared your grace would keep me here.
- To rid thee of that doubt, aboard again:
- I charge thee put to sea, and stay not here.
- Ach, Then let Æneas go aboard with us.
- Dido, Get you aboard; Æneas means to stay.
- Æn. The sea is rough, the winds blow to the shore.
- O false Æneas! now the sea is rough;
- But, when you were aboard, 'twas calm enough:
- Thou and Achates meant to sail away.
- Hath not the Carthage queen mine only son?
- Tnmks Dido I will go and leave him here?
- Æneas, pardon me; for I forgot
- That young Ascanius lay with me this night;
- Love made me jealous: but, to make amends,
- Wear the imperial crown of Libya,
- [Giving him her crown and sceptre.
- Sway thou the Punic sceptre in my stead.
- And punish me, Æneas, for this crime.
- This kiss shall be fair Dido's punishment.
- O, how a crown becomes Æneas' head!
- Stay here, Æneas, and command as king.
- How vain am I to wear this diadem,
- And bear this golden sceptre in my hand!
- A burgonet of steel, and not a crown,
- A sword, and not a sceptre, fits Æneas.
- O, keep them still, and let me gaze my fill!
- Now looks Æneas like immortal Jove:
- O, where is Ganymede, to hold his cup,
- And Mercury, to fly for what he calls?
- Ten thousand Cupids hover in the air,
- And fan it is Æneas' lovely face!
- O, that the clouds were here wherein thou fled'st,
- That thou and I unseen might sport ourselves!
- Heaven, envious of our joys, is waxen pale;
- And when we whisper then the stars fall down,
- To be partakers of our honey talk.
- O Dido, patroness of all our lives,
- When I leave thee, death be my punishment!
- Swell, raging seas! frown, wayward Destinies!
- Blow, winds! threaten, ye rocks and sandy shelves!
- This is the harbour that Æneas seeks:
- Let's see what tempests can annoy me now.
- Dido. Not all the world can take thee from mine arms.
- may command as many Moors
- As in the sea are little water-drops;
- And now, to make experience of my love,-
- Fair sister Anna, lead my lover forth,
- And, seated on my jennet, let him ride,
- As Dido's husband, through the Punic streets;
- And will my guard, with Mauntanian darts
- To wait upon him as their sovereign lord.
- What if the citizens repine thereat?
- Those that dislike what Dido gives in charge
- Command my guard to slay for their offence.
- Shall vulgar peasants storm at what I do?
- The ground is mine that gives them sustenance,
- The air wherein they breathe, the water, fire,
- All that they have, their lands, their goods, their lives!
- And I, the goddess of all these, command
- Æneas ride as Carthaginian king.
- Æneas, for his parentage, deserves
- As large a kingdom as is Libya.
- Ay, and, unless the Destinies be false,
- I shall be planted in as rich a land.
- Dido, Speak of no other land; this land is thine;
- Dido is thine, henceforth I'll call thee lord.—
- Do as I bid thee, sister; lead the way;
- And from a turret I'll behold my love.
- Then here in me shall flourish Priam's race
- And thou and I, Achates, for revenge
- For Troy, for Priam, for his fifty sons,
- Our kinsmen's lives and thousand guiltless souls,
- Will lead an host against the hateful Greeks,
- And fire proud LacedÆmon o'er their heads.
- [Exeunt all except Dido and Carthaginian Lords
- Speaks not Æneas like a conqueror?
- O blessed tempests that did drive him in!
- O happy sand that made him run aground!
- Henceforth you shall be [of] our Carthage gods.
- Ay, but it may be, he will leave my love,
- And seek a foreign land called Italy:
- O, that I had a charm to keep the winds
- Within the closure of a golden ball;
- Or that the Tyrrhene sea were in mine arms,
- That he might suffer shipwreck on my breast,
- As oft as he attempts to hoist up sail!
- I must prevent him; wishing will not serve.—
- Go bid my nurse take young Ascanius,
- And bear him in the country to her house;
- Æneas will not go without his son;
- Yet, lest he should, for I am full of fear,
- Bring me his oars, his tackling, and his sails.
- [Exit First Lord.
- What if I sink his ships? O, he will frown!
- Better he frown than I should die for grief.
- I cannot see him frown; it may not be:
- Armies of foes resolv'd to win this town,
- Or impious traitors vow'd to have my life,
- Affright me not; only Æneas' frown
- Is that which terrifies poor Dido's heart;
- Not bloody spears, appearing in the air,
- Presage the downfall of my empery,
- Nor blazing comets threaten Dido's death;
- It is Æneas' frown that ends my days.
- If he forsake me not, I never die;
- For in his looks I see eternity,
- And he'll make me immortal with a kiss.
- Re-enter First Lord, with Attendants carrying tackling, &c.
- Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius:
- And here's Æneas' tackling, oars, and sails.
- Are these the sails that, in despite of me,
- Pack'd with the winds to bear Æneas hence?
- I'll hang ye in the chamber where I lie;
- Drive, if you can, my house to Italy:
- I'll set the casement open, that the winds
- May enter in, and once again conspire
- Against the life of me, poor Carthage queen:
- But, though ye go, he stays in Carthage still;
- And let rich Carthage fleet upon the seas,
- So I may have Æneas in mine arms.
- Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plains,
- And would be toiling in the watery billows,
- To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest?
- O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense,
- To measure how I prize Æneas' love,
- Thou wouldst have leapt from out the sailors' hands,
- And told me that Æneas meant to go!
- And yet I blame thee not; thou art but wood.
- The water, which our poets term a nymph,
- Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast,
- And shrunk not back, knowing my love was there?
- The water is an element, no nymph.
- Why should I blame Æneas for his flight?
- O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars!
- These were the instruments that launched him forth.
- There's not so much as this base tackling too,
- But dares to heap up sorrow to my heart:
- Was it not you that hoised up these sails?
- Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?
- For this will Dido tie ye full of knots,
- And shear ye all asunder with her hands
- Now serve to chastise shipboys for their faults,
- Ye shall no more offend the Carthage queen.
- Now, let him hang my favours on his masts,
- And see if those will serve instead of sails;
- For tackling, let him take the chains of gold,
- Which I bestowed upon his followers;
- Instead of oars, let him use his hands,
- And swim to Italy. I'll keep these sure.—
- Come, bear them in.
Enter Nurse, withCupid as Ascanius.
- My Lord Ascanius, you must go with me.
- Cup Whither must I go? I'll stay with my mother,
- No, thou shalt go with me unto my house.
- I have an orchard that hath store of plums,
- Brown almonds, services, ripe figs, and dates,
- Dewberries, apples, yellow oranges;
- A garden where are bee-hives full of honey,
- Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers;
- And in the midst doth run a silver stream,
- Where thou shalt see the red-gilld fishes leap,
- White swans, and many lovely water-fowls.
- Now speak, Ascanius, will you go or no?
- Come, come, I'll go. How far hence is your house?
- But hereby, child; we shall get thither straight.
- Nurse, I am weary; will you carry me?
- Ay, so you'll dwell with me, and call me mother.
- So you'll love me, I care not if I do,
- That I might live to see this boy a man!
- How prettily he laughs! Go [to], ye wag!
- You'll be a twigger when you come to age.—
- Say Dido what she will, I am not old;
- I'll be no more a widow: I am young;
- I'll have a husband, or else a lover.
- O, what mean I to have such foolish thoughts?
- Foolish is love, a toy.—O sacred love!
- If there be any heaven in earth, 'tis love,
- Especially in women of your years.—
- Blush, blush for shame! why shouldst thou think of love?
- A grave, and not a lover, fits thy age.—
- A grave! why, I may live a hundred years;
- Fourscore is but a girl's age: love is sweet—
- My veins are withered, and my sinews dry:
- Well, if he come a-wooing, he shall speed:
- O, how unwise was I to say him nay!
Enteræneas, with a paper in his hand, drawing the platform of the city, Achates, Sergestus, Cloanthus, and Ilioneus,
- Triumph, my mates! our travels are at end
- Here will Æneas build a statelier Troy
- Than that which grim Atrides overthrew
- Carthage shall vaunt her petty walls no more;
- For I will grace them with a fairer frame,
- And clad her in a crystal livery,
- Wherein the day may evermore delight;
- From golden India Ganges will I fetch,
- Whose wealthy streams may wait upon her towers,
- And triple-wise entrench her round about;
- The sun from Egypt shall rich odours bring,
- Wherewith his burning beams (like labouring bees
- That load their thighs with Hybla's honey-spoils)
- Shall here unburden their exhaled sweets,
- And plant our pleasant suburbs with their fumes,
- Ach, What length or breadth shall this brave town contain?
- Not past four thousand paces at the most.
- Ili But what shall it be call'd? Troy, as before?
- That have I not determ'd with myself.
- Let it be term'd Ænea, by your name.
- Rather Ascania, by your little son.
- Nay, I will have it called AnchisÆon,
- Of my old father's name.
- EnterHermes with Ascanius
- Æneas, stay; Jove's herald bids thee stay.
- Whom do I see? Jove's winged messenger!
- Welcome to Carthage new-erected town.
- Her, Why, cousin, stand you building cities here,
- And beautifying the empire of this queen,
- While Italy is clean out of thy mind?
- Too-too forgetful of thine own affairs,
- Why wilt thou so betray thy son's good hap?
- The king of gods sent me from highest heaven,
- To sound this angry message in thine ears:
- Vain man, what monarchy expect'st thou here?
- Or with what thought sleep'st thou in Libya shore?
- If that all glory hath forsaken thee
- And thou despise the praise of such attempts,
- Yet think upon Ascanius' prophecy,
- And young lulus' more than thousand years,
- Whom I have brought from Ida, where he slept,
- And bore young Cupid unto Cyprus' isle.
- This was my mother that beguil'd the queen
- And made me take my brother for my son:
- No marvel, Dido, though thou be in love,
- That daily dandlest Cupid in the arms—
- Welcome, sweet child: where hast thou been this long?
- Plating sweet comfits with Queen Dido's maid.
- Who ever since hath lull'd me in her arms.
- Sergestus, bear him hence unto our ships,
- Lest Dido, spying him, keep him for a pledge.
- [ExitSergestus with Ascanius.—
- Her, Spend'st thou thy time about this little boy,
- And giv'st not ear unto the charge I bring?
- I tell thee, thou must straight to Italy,
- Or else abide the wrath of frowning Jove.
- How should I put into the raging deep.
- Who have no sails nor tackling for my ships?
- What? would the gods have me, Deucalion-like.
- Float up and down where'er the billows drive?
- Though she repair'd my fleet and gave me ships.
- Yet hath she ta'en away my oars and masts,
- And left me neither sail nor stern aboard.
- How now, Æneas! sad! what means these dumps?
- Iarbas, I am clean besides myself;
- Jove hath heaped on me such a desperate charge,
- Which neither art nor reason may achieve,
- Nor I devise by what means to contrive.
- As how, I pray? may I entreat you tell?
- With speed he bids me sail to Italy,
- Whenas I want both rigging for my fleet,
- And also furniture for these my men.
- If that be all, then cheer thy drooping looks,
- For I will furnish thee with such supplies,
- Let some of those thy followers go with me,
- And they shall have what thing soe'er thou need'st.
- Thanks, good Iarbas, for thy friendly aid:
- Achates and the rest shall wait on thee,
- Whilst I rest thankful for this courtesy.
- [Exeunt all except Æneas
- Now will I haste unto Lavinian shore,
- And raise a new foundation to old Troy.
- Witness the gods, and witness heaven and earth,
- How loath I am to leave these Libyan bounds,
- But that eternal Jupiter commands!
- I fear I saw Æneas' little son
- Led by Achates to the Trojan fleet.
- If it be so, his father means to fly:—
- But here he is; now, Dido, try thy wit—
- Æneas, wherefore go thy men aboard?
- Why are thy ships new-rigged? or to what end,
- Launched from the haven, lie they in the road?
- Pardon me, though I ask; love makes me ask.
- O, pardon me, if I resolve thee why!
- Æneas will not feign with his dear love.
- I must from hence: this day, swift Mercury.
- When I was laying a platform for these walls,
- Sent from his father Jove, appear'd to me,
- And in his name rebuk'd me bitterly
- But yet Æneas will not leave his love.
- I am commanded by immortal Jove
- To leave this town and pass to Italy;
- And therefore must of force.
- These words proceed not from Æneas' heart.
- Not from my heart, for I can hardly go;
- And yet I may not stay. Dido, farewell.
- Farewell! is this the 'mends for Dido's love?
- Do Trojans use to quit their lovers thus?
- Fare well may Dido, so Æneas stay;
- I die, if my Æneas say farewell.
- Then let me go, and never say farewell:
- Let me go; farewell: I must from hence.
- These words are poison to poor Dido's soul:
- O, speak like my Æneas, like my love!
- Why look'st thou toward the sea? the time hath been
- When Dido's beauty chain'd thine eyes to her.
- Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first?
- O, then, Æneas, 'tis for grief of thee!
- Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy queen,
- And Dido's beauty will return again.
- Æneas, say, how can'st thou take thy leave?
- Wilt thou kiss Dido? O, thy lips have sworn
- To stay with Dido! canst thou take her hand?
- Thy hand and mine have plighted mutual faith:
- Therefore, unkind Æneas, must thou say,
- “Then let me go, and never say farewell?”
- O queen of Carthage, wert thou ugly-black,
- Æneas could not choose but hold thee dear!
- The gods! what gods be those that seek my
- Wherein have I offended Jupiter,
- That he should take Æneas from mine arms?
- O no! the gods weigh not what lovers do:
- It is Æneas calls Æneas hence;
- And woful Dido, by these blubber'd cheeks,
- By this right hand, and by our spousal rites,
- Desires Æneas to remain with her;
- Si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam
- Dulce meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam,
- Oro, si quis adhuc precibus locus, exue mentem.
- Desine meque tuis incendere teque querelis,
- Italiam non sponte sequor.
- Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings
- Were up in arms, for making thee my love?
- How Carthage did rebel, Iarbas storm,
- And all the world calls me a second Helen.
- For being entangled by a stranger's looks?
- So thou wouldst prove as true as Paris did,
- Would, as fair Troy was, Carthage might be sack'd,
- And I be called a second Helena!
- Had I a son by thee, the grief were less,
- That I might see Æneas in his face:
- Now if thou go'st, what canst thou leave behind,
- But rather will augment than ease my woe?
- In vain, my love, thou spend'st thy fainting
- If words might move me, I were overcome.
- And wilt thou not be mov'd with Dido's words?
- Thy mother was no goddess, perjured man,
- Nor Dardanus the author of thy stock;
- But thou art sprung from Scythian Caucasus.
- And tigers of Hyrcania gave thee suck.—
- Ah, foolish Dido, to forbear this long!—
- Wast thou not wrecked upon this Libyan shore,
- And cam'st to Dido like a fisher swain?
- Repaired not I thy ships, made thee a king,
- And all thy needy followers noblemen?
- O serpent, that came creeping from the shore,
- And I for pity harbour'd in my bosom,
- Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting,
- And hiss at Dido for preserving thee?
- Go, go, and spare not; seek out Italy:
- I hope that that which love forbids me do,
- The rocks and sea-gulfs will perform at large,
- And thou shalt perish in the billows' ways
- To whom poor Dido doth bequeath revenge:
- Ay, traitor! and the waves shall cast thee up,
- Where thou and false Achates first set foot;
- Which if it chance, I'll give ye burial,
- And weep upon your lifeless carcasses,
- Though thou nor he will pity me a whit.
- Why starest thou in my face? If thou wilt stay,
- Leap in mine arms; mine arms are open wide;
- If not, turn from me, and I'll turn from thee;
- For though thou hast the heart to say farewell,
- I have not power to stay thee.
- Is he gone?
- Ay, but he'll come again; he cannot go;
- He loves me too-too well to serve me so:
- Yet he that in my sight would not relent,
- Will, being absent, be obdurate still.
- By this, is he got to the water-side;
- And, see, the sailors take him by the hand;
- But he shrinks back; and now remembering me,
- Returns amain: welcome, welcome, my love!
- But where's Æneas? ah, he's gone, he's gone!
- What means my sister, thus to rave and cry?
- O Anna, my Æneas is aboard,
- And, leaving me, will sail to Italy!
- Once didst thou go, and he came back again:
- Now bring him back, and thou shalt be a queen,
- And I will live a private life with him.
- Call him not wicked, sister: speak him fair,
- And look upon him with a mermaid's eye,
- Tell him, I never vow'd at Aulis' gulf
- The desolation of his native Troy,
- Nor sent a thousand ships unto the walls,
- Nor ever violated faith to him;
- Request him gently, Anna, to return:
- I crave but this,—he stay a tide or two,
- That I may learn to bear it patiently;
- If he depart thus suddenly, I die.
- Run, Anna, run; stay not to answer me.
- I go, fair sister: heavens grant good success!
- Enter Nurse.
- O Dido, your little son Ascanius
- Is gone! he lay with me last night,
- And in the morning he was stoln from me:
- I think some fairies have beguilèd me.
- O cursèd hag and false dissembling wretch,
- That slay'st me with thy harsh and hellish tale!
- Thou for some petty gift hast let him go,
- And I am thus deluded of my boy.—
- Away with her to prison presently,
- Enter Attendants.
- Trait'ress too kenned and cursèd sorceress!
- I know not what you mean by treason, I;
- I am as true as any one of yours.
- Away with her! suffer her not to speak,
- [Exit Nurse with Attendants.
- My sister comes: I like not her sad looks.
- Before I came, Æneas was aboard,
- And, spying me, hoist up the sails amain;
- But I cried out, “Æneas, false Æneas, stay!”
- Then gan he wag his hand, which, yet held up,
- Made me suppose he would have heard me speak;
- Then gan they drive into the ocean:
- Which when I view'd, I cried, “Æneas, stay!
- Dido, fair Dido wills Æneas stay!”
- Yet he, whose heart['s] of adamant or flint,
- My tears nor plaints could mollify a whit.
- Then carelessly I rent my hair for grief:
- Which seen to all, though he beheld me not,
- They gan to move him to redress my ruth,
- And stay a while to hear what I could say;
- But he, clapp'd under hatches, sail'd away.
- O Anna, Anna, I will follow him!
- How can you go, when he hath all your fleet?
- I'll frame me wings of wax, like Icarus,
- And, o'er his ships, will soar unto the sun,
- That they may melt, and I fall in his arms;
- Or else I'll make a prayer unto the waves,
- That I may swim to him, like Triton's niece.
- O Anna, [Anna, ] fetch Arion's harp,
- That I may tice a dolphin to the shore,
- And ride upon his back unto my love!
- Look, sister, look! lovely Æneas' ships!
- See, see, the billows heave him up to heaven,
- And now down falls the keels into the deep!
- O sister, sister, take away the rocks!
- They'll break his ships. O Proteus, Neptune, Jove,
- Save, save Æneas, Dido's liefest love!
- Now is he come on shore, safe without hurt:
- But, see, Achates wills him put to sea,
- And all the sailors merry-make for joy;
- But he, remembering me, shrinks back again:
- See, where he comes! welcome, welcome, my love!
- Ah, sister, leave these idle fantasies!
- Sweet sister, cease; remember who you are.
- Dido I am, unless I be deceiv'd:
- And must I rave thus for a runagate?
- Must I make ships for him to sail away?
- Nothing can bear me to him but a ship,
- And he hath all my fleet.—What shall I do,
- But die in fury of this oversight?
- Ay; I must be the murderer of my self:
- No, but I am not; yet I will be straight —
- Anna, be glad; now have I found a mean
- To rid me from these thoughts of lunacy
- Not far from hence
- There is a woman famousèd for arts,
- Daughter unto the nymphs Hesperides,
- Who will'd me sacrifice his ticing relics:
- Go, Anna, bid my servants bring me fire.
- How long will Dido mourn a stranger's flight
- That hath dishonoured her and Carthage both?
- How long shall I with grief consume my days,
- And reap no guerdon for my truest love?
- Enter Attendants with wood and torches.
- Iarbas, talk not of Æneas; let him go:
- Lay to thy hands, and help me make a fire,
- That shall consume all that this stranger left;
- For I intend a private sacrifice,
- To cure my mind, that melts for unkind love.
- But afterwards, will Dido grant me love?
- Ay, ay, Iarbas; after this is done,
- None in the world shall have my love but thou.
- [They make a fire.
- So leave me now; let none approach this place.
- [ExeuntIarbasand Attendants.
- Now, Dido, with these relics burn thyself.
- And make Æneas famous through the world
- For perjury and slaughter of a queen.
- Here he the sword that in the darksome cave
- He drew, and swore by, to be true to me:
- Thou shalt burn first; thy crime is worse than his.
- Here lie the garment which I cloth'd him in
- When first he came on shore; perish thou too.
- These letters, lines, and perjur'd papers, all
- Shall burn to cinders in this precious flame.
- And now, ye gods, that guide the starry frame.
- And order all things at your high dispose,
- Grant, though the traitors land in Italy,
- They may be still tormented with unrest;
- And from mine ashes let a conqueror rise,
- That may revenge this treason to a queen
- By ploughing up his countries with the sword!
- Betwixt this land and that be never league:
- Litora litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas
- Imprecor, arma armis, pugnent ipsique nepotes!
- Live, false Æneas; truest Dido dies;
- Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras.
- [Throws herself into the flames.
- O, help, Iarbas! Dido in these flames
- Hath burnt herself! ay me, unhappy me!
- Re-enterIarbas, running.
- Cursèd Iarbas, die to expiate
- The grief that tires upon thine inward soul!—
- Dido, I come to thee.—Ay me, Æneas!
- [Stabs himself, and dies.
- What can my tears or cries prevail me now
- Dido is dead!
- Iarbas slain, Iarbas my dear love!
- O sweet Iarbas, Anna's sole delight!
- What fatal destiny envìes me thus,
- To see my sweet Iarbas slay himself?
- But Anna now shall honour thee in death,
- And mix her blood with thine; this shall I do,
- That gods and men may pity this my death,
- And rue our ends, senseless of life or breath:
- Now, sweet Iarbas, stay! I come to thee.
- [Stabs herself, and dies.
END OF VOL. II.
- ‘A lady wall'd-about with diamonds!’”—Dyce.
- Marte gravis geminam partu dabit Ilia prolem.”
- Virg. Æn. 1. 273–4.
- “Vos et Scyllaeam rabiem penitusque sonantes
- Accestis scopulos, vos et Cyclopia saxa
- Experti. revocate animos, maestumque timorem Mittite.”
- “Thou map of woe that thus dost talk in signs” (l. 12).
- “Thou see'st that Medor and Angelica
- Are still so secret in their private walks,
- As that they trace the shady lawnds.”
- “Quid natum totiens, crudelis tu quoque, falsis
- Ludis imaginibus?”
- ‘Now had they lost the sight of Holland shore,
- And marcht with gentle gale in comely ranke,’ &c.
- B. x. st. 16.)”—Dyce.
- The passage of Harington seems to amply vindicate Marlowe.
- “Unequal match'd
- Pyrrhus and Priam drives, in rage strikes wide;
- But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
- The unnerved father falls.”
- “Hunc ego sopitum somno super alta Cythera
- Aut super Idalium sacrata sede recondam.”
- “Upon which altar I will offer up
- My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears.'
- “Manet alta mente repostum
- Judicium Paridis spretæque injuria formæ,
- Et genus invisum, et rapti Ganimedis honores.”
- “Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.”
- “The king from Eirham I intend to send, And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.”
- “Nee tibi diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor, Perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens Caucasus, Hycanæque admorunt ubera tigres”
- “And with your best endeavours have stirred up My liefest hege to be mine enemy.”
- “Hesperidum templi custos.”