Front Page Titles (by Subject) SCENE III. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 2
SCENE III. - 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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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.