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