Front Page Titles (by Subject) ACT II. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 2
ACT II. - 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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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 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.”