- The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tragedy of Dido Queene of Carthage
- by Christopher Marlowe
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- Title: The Tragedy of Dido Queene of Carthage
- Author: Christopher Marlowe
- Release Date: July 1, 2005 [EBook #16169]
- Language: English
- Character set encoding: UTF-8
- *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIDO QUEENE OF CARTHAGE ***
- Produced by Clare Boothby, Clare Elliott and the Online
- Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
- The Tudor Facsimile Texts
- The Tragedy of
- Dido Queen of Carthage
- Written by
- CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH
- 1594
- _Date of this the earliest known edition_.... 1594
- [_Bodleian_]
- _Reproduced in Facsimile_.... 1914
- The Tudor Facsimile Texts
- _Under the Supervision and Editorship of_
- JOHN S. FARMER
- The Tragedy of
- Dido Queen of Carthage
- Written by
- CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH
- 1594
- _Issued for Subscribers by the Editor of_
- THE TUDOR FACSIMILE TEXTS
- MCMXIV
- The Tragedy of
- Dido Queen of Carthage
- Written by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH
- 1594
- _This play is facsimiled from the Bodley copy. Other examples
- (says Sir Sidney Lee, but unrecorded by Greg) are at Bridgewater
- House and at Chatsworth; the Devonshire Collection of Plays has
- recently been disposed of to an American collector_.
- _For other and bibliographical details see D.N.B. I have
- included in this facsimile the page of manuscript in the Bodley
- example inasmuch as it contains matter of interest to the
- student._
- _The reproduction from the original was made by The Clarendon
- Press, Oxford_.
- _JOHN S. FARMER_.
- [Transcriber's Note: The following paragraphs have been
- transcribed from a handwritten page. Some text is illegible, and
- this has been marked with asterisks where appropriate.]
- The tragedy of _Dido_ is one of the scarcest plays in the English
- language. There are but two copies known to be extant; in the
- possession of D^r Wright and M^r Reed.
- M^r Warton speaks in his _Hist. of Eng. Poet_ (III. p. 435) of an
- Elegy being prefixed to it on the death of Marlowe; but no such
- is found in either of those copies. In answer to my inquiries on
- this subject he informed me by letter, [crossed-out text] that a
- copy of this play was in Osborne's catalogue in the year 1754,
- that he then saw it in his shop (together with several of M^r
- Oldys's books that Osborne had purchased), + that the elegy in
- question--"on Marlowe's untimely death" was inserted immediately
- after the title page; that it mentioned a play of Marlowe's
- entitled _The Duke of Guise_ and four others; but whether
- particularly by _name_, he could not recollect. Unluckily he did
- not purchase this rare piece, + it is now God knows where.
- Bishop Tanner likewise mentions this elegy in so particular a
- manner that he must have seen it. "Marlovius (Christopherus),
- quondam in academia Cantabrigiensi musarum alumnus; postea actor
- scenicus; deinde poeta dramaticus tragicus, paucis inferior
- Scripsit plurimas tragedias, sc. Tamerlane.-Tragedie of Dido
- Queen of Carthage. Pr. Come gentle Ganymed. Hanc perfecit +
- edidit Tho. Nash Lond. 1594. 4^to.--Petrarius in præfatione ad
- Secundam partem Herois et Leandri multa in Marlovii
- commendationem adfert; hoc etiam facit Tho. Nash in _Carmine
- Elegiaco Tragidiæ Didonis præfiso in obitum Christop. Marlovii_,
- ubi quatuor ejus tragidiarum mentionem facit, nec non et alterius
- _de duce Guisio_." _Bib. Britan._ 1740.
- I suspect M^r Warton had no other authority than this for saying
- that this play was left imperfect by Marlowe, and completed +
- published by Nashe; for it does not appear from the title page
- that it was not written in conjunction by him + Marlowe in the
- lifetime of the former. Perhaps Nashe's Elegy might ascertain
- this point. Tanner had, I believe, no authority but Philipses,
- for calling Marlowe an actor.
- There was an old Latin play on the subject of Dido, written by
- John Rightwise and played before Cardinal Wolsey + again before
- Queen Elizabeth in 1564. There is also another Latin play on this
- subject _Dido_, tragedia nova so quatuor pri*ibus ***
- **************** Virgilii disampla Antwerp ed, 1559.
- THE
- Tragedie of Dido
- _Queene of Carthage:_
- Played by the Children of her
- _Maiesties Chappell._
- Written by Christopher Marlowe, and
- _Thomas Nash. Gent._
- Actors
- _Iupiter._ _Ascanius._
- _Ganimed._ _Dido._
- _Venus._ _Anna._
- _Cupid._ _Achates._
- _Iuno._ _Ilioneus._
- _Mercurie._ _Iarbas._
- _Hermes._ _Cloanthes._
- _Æneas._ _Sergestus._
- [Illustration: (Decorative) "BY PEACE PLENTY, BY WISDOME PEACE"]
- AT LONDON,
- Printed, by the Widdowe _Orwin_, for _Thomas Woodcocke_, and
- are to be solde at his shop, in Paules Church-yeard, at
- the signe of the blacke Beare. 1594.
- [Illustration: (Decorative)]
- The Tragedie of _Dido_ Queene
- _of Carthage._
- _Here the Curtaines draw, there is discovered_ Iupiter _dandling_
- Ganimed _upon his knee, and_ Mercury _lying asleepe_.
- _Iup._ Come gentle _Ganimed_ and play with me,
- I loue thee well, say _Iuno_ what she will.
- _Gan._ I am much better for your worthles loue,
- That will not shield me from her shrewith blowes:
- To day when as I fild into your cups,
- And held the cloath of pleasance whiles you dranke,
- She reacht me such a rap for that I spilde,
- As made the bloud run downe about mine eares.
- _Iup._ What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts?
- By _Saturnes_ soule, and this earth threatning aire,
- That shaken thrise, makes Natures buildings quake,
- I vow, if she but once frowne on thee more,
- To hang her meteor like twixt heauen and earth,
- And bind her hand and foote with golden cordes,
- As once I did for harming _Hercules_.
- _Gan._ Might I but see that pretie sport a foote,
- O how would I with _Helens_ brother laugh,
- And bring the Gods to wonder at the game:
- Sweet _Iupiter_, if ere I pleasde thine eye,
- Or seemed faire walde in with Egles wings,
- Grace my immortall beautie with this boone,
- And I will spend my time in thy bright armes.
- _Iup._ What ist sweet wagge I should deny thy youth?
- Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes,
- As I exhal'd with thy fire darting beames,
- Haue oft driuen backe the horses of the night.
- When as they would haue hal'd thee from my sight:
- Sit on my knee, and call for thy content,
- Controule proud Fate, and cut the thred of time,
- Why are not all the Gods at thy commaund,
- And heauen and earth the bounds of thy delight?
- _Vulcan_ shall daunce to make thee laughing sport,
- And my nine Daughters sing when thou art sad,
- From _Iunos_ bird Ile pluck her spotted pride,
- To make thee fannes wherewith to coole thy face,
- And _Venus_ Swannes shall shed their siluer downe,
- To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed:
- _Hermes_ no more shall shew the world his wings,
- If that thy fancie in his feathers dwell,
- But as this one Ile teare them all from him,
- Doe thou but say their colour pleaseth me:
- Hold here my little loue these linked gems,
- My _Iuno_ ware vpon her marriage day,
- Put thou about thy necke my owne sweet heart,
- And tricke thy armes and shoulders with my theft.
- _Gan._ I would haue a iewell for mine eare,
- And a fine brouch to put in my hat,
- And then Ile hugge with you an hundred times.
- _Iup._ And shall haue _Ganimed_, if thou wilt be my loue.
- _Enter Venus._
- _Venus._ I 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 pray to euery billowes pride.
- _Iuno_, false _Iuno_ in her Chariots pompe,
- Drawne through the heauens by Steedes of _Boreas_ brood,
- Made _Hebe_ to direct her ayrie wheeles
- Into the windie countrie of the clowdes,
- Where finding _Æolus_ intrencht with stormes,
- And guarded with a thousand grislie ghosts,
- She humbly did beseech him for our bane,
- And charg'd him drowne my sonne with all his traine.
- Then gan the windes breake ope their brazen doores,
- And all _Æolia_ to be vp in armes:
- Poore _Troy_ must now be sackt vpon the Sea,
- And _Neptunes_ waues be enuious men of warre,
- _Epeus_ horse to _Ætnas_ hill transformd,
- Prepared stands to wracke their woodden walles,
- And _Æolus_ like _Agamemnon_ sounds
- The surges, his fierce souldiers to the spoyle:
- See how the night _Ulysses_-like comes forth,
- And intercepts the day as _Dolon_ erst:
- Ay me! the Starres supprisde like _Rhesus_ Steedes,
- Are drawne by darknes forth _Astræus_ tents.
- What shall I doe to saue thee my sweet boy?
- When as the waues doe threat our Chrystall world,
- And _Proteus_ raising hils of flouds on high,
- Entends ere long to sport him in the skie.
- False _Iupiter_, rewardst thou vertue so?
- What? is not pietie exempt from woe?
- Then dye _Æneas_ in thine innocence,
- Since that religion hath no recompence.
- _Iup._ Content thee _Cytherea_ in thy care,
- Since thy _Æneas_ wandring fate is firme,
- Whose wearie lims shall shortly make repose,
- In those faire walles I promist him of yore:
- But first in bloud must his good fortune bud,
- Before he be the Lord of _Turnus_ towne,
- Or force her smile that hetherto hath frownd:
- Three winters shall he with the Rutiles warre,
- And in the end subdue them with his sword,
- And full three Sommers likewise shall he waste,
- In mannaging those fierce barbarian mindes:
- Which once performd, poore _Troy_ so long supprest,
- From forth her ashes shall aduance her head,
- And flourish once againe that erst was dead:
- But bright _Ascanius_ beauties better worke,
- Who with the Sunne deuides one radiant shape,
- Shall build his throne amidst those starrie towers,
- That earth-borne _Atlas_ groning vnderprops:
- No bounds but heauen shall bound his Emperie,
- Whose azured gates enchased with his name,
- Shall make the morning halt her gray vprise,
- To feede her eyes with his engrauen fame.
- Thus in stoute _Hectors_ race three hundred yeares,
- The Romane Scepter royall shall remaine,
- Till that a Princesse priest conceau'd by _Mars_,
- Shall yeeld to dignitie a dubble birth,
- Who will eternish _Troy_ in their attempts.
- _Venus._ How may I credite these thy flattering termes,
- When yet both sea and sands beset their ships,
- And _Phœbus_ as in stygian pooles, refraines
- To taint his tresses in the Tyrrhen maine?
- _Iup._ I will take order for that presently:
- _Hermes_ awake, and haste to _Neptunes_ realme,
- Whereas the Wind-god warring now with Fate,
- Besiege the ofspring of our kingly loynes,
- Charge him from me to turne his stormie powers,
- And fetter them in _Vulcans_ sturdie brasse,
- That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsmans peace.
- _Venus_ farewell, thy sonne shall be our care:
- Come _Ganimed_, we must about this geare.
- _Exeunt Iupiter cum Ganimed._
- _Venus._ Disquiet Seas lay downe your swelling lookes,
- And court _Æneas_ with your calmie cheere,
- Whose beautious burden well might make you proude,
- Had not the heauens conceau'd with hel-borne clowdes,
- Vaild his resplendant glorie from your view,
- For my sake pitie him _Oceanus_,
- That erst-while issued from thy watrie loynes,
- And had my being from thy bubling froth:
- _Triton_ I know hath fild his trumpe with _Troy_,
- And therefore will take pitie on his toyle,
- And call both _Thetis_ and _Cimodoæ_,
- To succour him in this extremitie.
- _Enter Æneas with Ascanius, with one or two more._
- What? doe I see my sonne now come on shoare:
- _Venus_, how art thou compast with content,
- The while thine eyes attract their sought for ioyes:
- Great _Iupiter_, still honourd maist thou be,
- For this so friendly ayde in time of neede.
- Here in this bush disguised will I stand,
- Whiles my _Æneas_ spends himselfe in plaints,
- And heauen and earth with his vnrest acquaints.
- _Æn._ You sonnes of care, companions of my course,
- _Priams_ misfortune followes vs by sea,
- And _Helens_ rape doth haunt thee at the heeles.
- How many dangers haue we ouer past?
- Both barking _Scilla_, and the sounding Rocks,
- The _Cyclops_ shelues, and grim _Ceranias_ seate
- Haue you oregone, and yet remaine aliue!
- Pluck vp your hearts, since fate still rests our friend,
- And chaunging heauens may those good daies returne,
- Which _Pergama_ did vaunt in all her pride.
- _Acha._ Braue Prince of _Troy_, thou onely art our God,
- That by thy vertues freest vs from annoy,
- And makes our hopes suruiue to cunning ioyes:
- Doe thou but smile, and clowdie heauen will cleare,
- Whose night and day descendeth from thy browes:
- Though we be now in extreame miserie,
- And rest the map of weatherbeaten woe:
- Yet shall the aged Sunne shed forth his aire,
- To make vs liue vnto our former heate,
- And euery beast the forrest doth send forth,
- Bequeath her young ones to our scanted foode.
- _Asca._ Father I faint, good father giue me meate.
- _Æn._ Alas sweet boy, thou must be still a while,
- Till we haue fire to dresse the meate we kild:
- Gentle _Achates_, reach the Tinder boxe,
- That we may make a fire to warme vs with,
- And rost our new found victuals on this shoare.
- _Venus._ See what strange arts necessitie findes out,
- How neere my sweet _Æneas_ art thou driuen?
- _Æn._ Hold, take this candle and goe light a fire,
- You shall haue leaues and windfall bowes enow
- Neere to these woods, to rost your meate withall:
- _Ascanius_, goe and drie thy drenched lims,
- Whiles I with my _Achates_ roaue abroad,
- To know what coast the winde hath driuen vs on,
- Or whether men or beasts inhabite it.
- _Acha._ The ayre is pleasant, and the soyle most fit
- For Cities, and societies supports:
- Yet much I maruell that I cannot finde,
- No steps of men imprinted in the earth.
- _Venus._ Now is the time for me to play my part:
- Hoe yong men, saw you as you came
- Any of all my Sisters wandring here?
- Hauing a quiuer girded to her side,
- And cloathed in a spotted Leopards skin.
- _Æn._ I neither saw nor heard of any such:
- But what may I faire Virgin call your name?
- Whose lookes set forth no mortall forme to view,
- Nor speech bewraies ought humaine in thy birth,
- Thou art a Goddesse that delud'st our eyes,
- And shrowdes thy beautie in this borrowd shape;
- But whether thou the Sunnes bright Sister be,
- Or one of chast _Dianas_ fellow Nimphs,
- Liue happie in the height of all content,
- And lighten our extreames with this one boone,
- As to instruct us vnder what good heauen
- We breathe as now, and what this world is calde,
- On which by tempests furie we are cast,
- Tell vs, O tell vs that are ignorant,
- And this right hand shall make thy Altars crack
- With mountaine heapes of milke white Sacrifize.
- _Venus._ Such honour, stranger, doe I not affect:
- It is the vse for Turen maides to weare
- Their bowe and quiuer in this modest sort,
- And suite themselues in purple for the nonce,
- That they may trip more lightly ore the lawndes,
- And ouertake the tusked Bore in chase.
- But for the land whereof thou doest enquire,
- It is the punick kingdome rich and strong,
- Adioyning on _Agenors_ stately towne,
- The kingly seate of Southerne _Libia_,
- Whereas Sidonian _Dido_ rules as Queene.
- But what are you that aske of me these things?
- Whence may you come, or whither will you goe?
- _Æn._ Of _Troy_ am I, _Æneas_ is my name,
- Who driuen by warre from forth my natiue world,
- Put sailes to sea to seeke out _Italy_;
- And my diuine descent from sceptred _Iove_,
- With twise twelue Phrigian ships I plowed the deepe,
- And made that way my mother _Venus_ led:
- But of them all scarce seuen doe anchor safe,
- And they so wrackt and weltred by the waues,
- As euery tide tilts twixt their oken sides:
- And all of them vnburdened of their loade,
- Are ballassed with billowes watrie weight.
- But haples I, God wot, poore and vnknowne,
- Doe trace these Libian deserts all despisde,
- Exild forth _Europe_ and wide _Asia_ both,
- And haue not any couerture but heauen.
- _Venus._ Fortune hath fauord thee what ere thou be,
- In sending thee vnto this curteous Coast:
- A Gods name on and hast thee to the Court,
- Where _Dido_ will receiue ye with her smiles:
- And for thy ships which thou supposest lost,
- Not one of them hath perisht in the storme,
- But are ariued safe not farre from hence:
- And so I leaue thee to thy fortunes lot,
- Wishing good lucke vnto thy wandring steps. _Exit_.
- _Æn._ _Achates_, tis my mother that is fled,
- I know her by the mouings of her feete:
- Stay gentle _Venus_, flye not from thy sonne,
- Too cruell, why wilt thou forsake me thus?
- Or in these shades deceiu'st mine eye so oft?
- Why talke we not together hand in hand?
- And tell our griefes in more familiar termes:
- But thou art gone and leau'st me here alone,
- To dull the ayre with my discoursiue moane. _Exit_.
- _Enter Illioneus, and Cloanthes._
- _Illio._ Follow ye Troians, follow this braue Lord,
- And plaine to him the summe of your distresse.
- _Iar._ Why, what are you, or wherefore doe you sewe?
- _Illio._ Wretches of _Troy_, enuied of the windes,
- That craue such fauour at your honors feete,
- As poore distressed miserie may pleade:
- Saue, saue, O saue our ships from cruell fire,
- That doe complaine the wounds of thousand waues,
- And spare our liues whom euery spite pursues.
- We come not we to wrong your Libian Gods,
- Or steale your houshold lares from their shrines:
- Our hands are not prepar'd to lawles spoyle,
- Nor armed to offend in any kind:
- Such force is farre from our vnweaponed thoughts,
- Whose fading weale of victorie forsooke,
- Forbids all hope to harbour neere our hearts.
- _Iar._ But tell me Troians, Troians if you be,
- Vnto what fruitfull quarters were ye bound,
- Before that _Boreas_ buckled with your sailes?
- _Cloan._ There is a place _Hesperia_ term'd by vs,
- An ancient Empire, famoused for armes,
- And fertile in faire _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 gloomie _Orion_ rose,
- And led our ships into the shallow sands,
- Whereas the Southerne winde with brackish breath,
- Disperst them all amongst the wrackfull Rockes:
- From thence a fewe of vs escapt to land,
- The rest we feare are foulded in the flouds.
- _Iar._ Braue men at armes, abandon fruitles feares,
- Since Carthage knowes to entertaine distresse.
- _Serg._ I but the barbarous sort doe threat our ships,
- And will not let vs lodge vpon the sands:
- In multitudes they swarme vnto the shoare,
- And from the first earth interdict our feete.
- _Iar._ My selfe will see they shall not trouble ye,
- Your men and you shall banquet in our Court,
- And euery Troian be as welcome here,
- As _Iupiter_ to sillie _Vausis_ house:
- Come in with me, Ile bring you to my Queene,
- Who shall confirme my words with further deedes.
- _Serg._ Thankes gentle Lord for such vnlookt for grace,
- Might we but once more see _Æneas_ face,
- Then would we hope to quite such friendly turnes,
- As shall surpasse the wonder of our speech.
- Actus 2.
- _Enter Æneas, Achates, and Ascanius._
- _Æn._ Where am I now? these should be Carthage walles.
- _Acha._ Why stands my sweete _Æneas_ thus amazde?
- _Æn._ O my _Achates_, Theban _Niobe_,
- Who for her sonnes death wept out life and breath,
- And drie with griefe was turnd into a stone,
- Had not such passions in her head as I.
- Me thinkes that towne there should be _Troy_, yon _Idas_ hill,
- There _Zanthus_ streame, because here's _Priamus_,
- And when I know it is not, then I dye.
- _Ach._ And in this humor is _Achates_ to,
- I cannot choose but fall vpon my knees,
- And kisse his hand: O where is _Hecuba_,
- Here she was wont to sit, but sauing ayre
- Is nothing here, and what is this but stone?
- _Æn._ O yet this stone doth make _Æneas_ weepe,
- And would my prayers (as _Pigmalions_ did)
- Could giue it life, that vnder his conduct
- We might saile backe to _Troy_ and be reuengde
- On these hard harted Grecians; which reioyce
- That nothing now is left of _Priamus_:
- O _Priamus_ is left and this is he,
- Come, come abourd, pursue the hatefull Greekes.
- _Acha._ What means _Æneas_?
- _Æn._ _Achates_ though mine eyes say this is stone,
- Yet thinkes my minde that this is _Priamus_:
- And when my grieued heart sighes and sayes no,
- Then would it leape out to giue _Priam_ life:
- O were I not at all so thou mightst be.
- _Achates_, see King _Priam_ wags his hand,
- He is aliue, _Troy_ is not ouercome.
- _Ach._ Thy mind _Æneas_ that would haue it so
- Deludes thy eye sight, _Priamus_ is dead.
- _Æn._ Ah _Troy_ is sackt, and _Priamus_ is dead,
- And why should poore _Æneas_ be aliue?
- _Asca._ Sweete father leaue to weepe, this is not he:
- For were it _Priam_ he would smile on me.
- _Acha._ _Æneas_ see here come the Citizens,
- Leaue to lament lest they laugh at our feares.
- _Enter Cloanthus, Sergestus, Illioneus._
- _Æn._ Lords of this towne, or whatsoeuer stile
- Belongs vnto your name, vouchsafe of ruth
- To tell vs who inhabits this faire towne,
- What kind of people, and who gouernes them:
- For we are strangers driuen on this shore,
- And scarcely know within what Clime we are.
- _Illio._ I heare _Æneas_ voyce, but see him not,
- For none of these can be our Generall.
- _Acha._ Like _Illioneus_ speakes this Noble man,
- But _Illioneus_ goes not in such robes.
- _Serg._ You are _Achates_, or I deciu'd.
- _Acha._ _Æneas_ see _Sergestus_ or his ghost.
- _Illio._ He meanes _Æneas_, let vs kisse his feete.
- _Cloan._ It is our Captaine, see _Ascanius_.
- _Serg._ Liue long _Æneas_ and _Ascanius_.
- _Æn._ _Achates_, speake, for I am ouerioyed.
- _Acha._ O _Illioneus_, art thou yet aliue?
- _Illio._ Blest be the time I see _Achates_ face.
- _Cloan._ Why turnes _Æneas_ from his trustie friends?
- _Æn._ _Sergestus_, _Illioneus_ and the rest,
- Your sight amazde me, O what destinies
- Haue brought my sweete companions in such plight?
- O tell me, for I long to be resolu'd.
- _Illio._ Louely _Æneas_, these are Carthage walles,
- And here Queene _Dido_ weares th'imperiall Crowne,
- Who for _Troyes_ sake hath entertaind vs all,
- And clad vs in these wealthie robes we weare.
- Oft hath she askt vs vnder whom we seru'd,
- And when we told her she would weepe for griefe,
- Thinking the sea had swallowed vp thy ships,
- And now she sees thee how will she reioyce?
- _Serg._ See where her seruitors passe through the hall
- Bearing a banket, _Dido_ is not farre.
- _Illio._ Looke where she comes: _Æneas_ viewd her well.
- _Æn._ Well may I view her, but she sees not me.
- _Enter Dido and her traine._
- _Dido._ What stranger art thou that doest eye me thus?
- _Æn._ Sometime I was a Troian mightie Queene:
- But _Troy_ is not, what shall I say I am?
- _Illio._ Renowmed _Dido_, tis our Generall: warlike _Æneas_.
- _Dido._ Warlike _Æneas_, and in these base robes?
- Goe fetch the garment which _Sicheus_ ware:
- Braue Prince, welcome to Carthage and to me,
- Both happie that _Æneas_ is our guest:
- Sit in this chaire and banquet with a Queene,
- _Æneas_ is _Æneas_, were he clad
- In weedes as bad as euer _Irus_ ware.
- _Æn._ This is no seate for one thats comfortles,
- May it please your grace to let _Æneas_ waite:
- For though my birth be great, my fortunes meane,
- Too meane to be companion to a Queene.
- _Dido._ Thy fortune may be greater then thy birth,
- Sit downe _Æneas_, sit in _Didos_ place,
- And if this be thy sonne as I suppose,
- Here let him sit, be merrie louely child.
- _Æn._ This place beseemes me not, O pardon me.
- _Dido._ Ile haue it so, _Æneas_ be content.
- _Asca._ Madame, you shall be my mother.
- _Dido._ And so I will sweete child: be merrie man,
- Heres to thy better fortune and good starres.
- _Æn._ In all humilitie I thanke your grace.
- _Dido._ Remember who thou art, speake like thy selfe,
- Humilitie belongs to common groomes.
- _Æn._ And who so miserable as _Æneas_ is?
- _Dido._ Lyes it in _Didos_ hands to make thee blest,
- Then be assured thou art not miserable.
- _Æn._ O _Priamus_, O _Troy_, oh _Hecuba_!
- _Dido._ May I entreate thee to discourse at large,
- And truely to how _Troy_ was ouercome:
- For many tales goe of that Cities fall,
- And scarcely doe agree vpon one poynt:
- Some say _Antenor_ did betray the towne,
- Others report twas _Sinons_ periurie:
- But all in this that _Troy_ is ouercome,
- And _Priam_ dead, yet how we heare no newes.
- _Æn._ A wofull tale bids _Dido_ to vnfould,
- Whose memorie like pale deaths stony mace,
- Beates forth my senses from this troubled soule,
- And makes _Æneas_ sinke at _Didos_ feete.
- _Dido._ What faints _Æneas_ to remember _Troy_?
- In whose defence he fought so valiantly:
- Looke vp and speake.
- _Æn._ Then speake _Æneas_ with _Achilles_ tongue,
- And _Dido_ and you Carthaginian Peeres
- Heare me, but yet with _Mirmidons_ harsh eares,
- Daily inur'd to broyles and Massacres,
- Lest you be mou'd too much with my sad tale.
- The Grecian souldiers tired with ten yeares warre;
- Began to crye, let vs vnto our ships,
- _Troy_ is inuincible, why stay we here?
- With whose outcryes _Atrides_ being apal'd,
- Summoned the Captaines to his princely tent,
- Who looking on the scarres we Troians gaue,
- Seeing the number of their men decreast,
- And the remainder weake and out of heart,
- Gaue vp their voyces to dislodge the Campe,
- And so in troopes all marcht to _Tenedos_:
- Where when they came, _Vlysses_ on the sand
- Assayd with honey words to turne them backe:
- And as he spoke to further his entent,
- The windes did driue huge billowes to the shoare,
- And heauen was darkned with tempestuous clowdes:
- Then he alleag'd the Gods would haue them stay,
- And prophecied _Troy_ should be ouercome:
- And therewithall he calde false _Sinon_ forth,
- A man compact of craft and periurie,
- Whose ticing tongue was made of _Hermes_ pipe,
- To force an hundred watchfull eyes to sleepe:
- And him _Epeus_ hauing made the horse,
- With sacrificing wreathes vpon his head,
- _Vlysses_ sent to our vnhappie towne:
- Who groueling in the mire of _Zanthus_ bankes,
- His hands bound at his back, and both his eyes
- Turnd vp to heauen as one resolu'd to dye,
- Our Phrigian shepherd haled within the gates,
- And brought vnto the Court of _Priamus_:
- To whom he vsed action so pitifull,
- Lookes so remorcefull, vowes so forcible,
- As therewithall the old man ouercome,
- Kist him, imbrast him, and vnloosde his bands,
- And then, O _Dido_ pardon me.
- _Dido._ Nay leaue not here, resolue me of the rest.
- _Æn._ O th'inchaunting words of that base slaue,
- Made him to thinke _Epeus_ pine-tree Horse
- A sacrifize t'appease _Mineruas_ wrath:
- The rather for that one _Laocoon_
- Breaking a speare vpon his hollow breast,
- Was with two winged Serpents stung to death.
- Whereat agast, we were commanded straight
- With reuerence to draw it into _Troy_.
- In which vnhappie worke was I employd,
- These hands did helpe to hale it to the gates,
- Through which it could not enter twas so huge.
- O had it neuer entred, _Troy_ had stood.
- But _Priamus_ impatient of delay,
- Inforst a wide breach in that rampierd wall,
- Which thousand battering Rams could neuer pierce,
- And so came in this fatall instrument:
- At whose accursed feete as ouerioyed,
- We banquetted till ouercome with wine,
- Some surfetted, and others soundly slept.
- Which _Sinon_ viewing, causde the Greekish spyes
- To hast to _Tenedos_ and tell the Campe:
- Then he vnlockt the Horse, and suddenly
- From out his entrailes, _Neoptolemus_
- Setting his speare vpon the ground, leapt forth,
- And after him a thousand Grecians more,
- In whose sterne faces shin'd the quenchles fire,
- That after burnt the pride of _Asia_.
- By this the Campe was come vnto the walles,
- And through the breach did march into the streetes,
- Where meeting with the rest, kill kill they cryed.
- Frighted with this confused noyse, I rose,
- And looking from a turret, might behold
- Yong infants swimming in their parents bloud,
- Headles carkasses piled vp in heapes,
- Virgins halfe dead dragged by their golden haire,
- And with maine force flung on a ring of pikes,
- Old men with swords thrust through their aged sides,
- Kneeling for mercie to a Greekish lad,
- Who with steele Pol-axes dasht out their braines.
- Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword,
- And thinking to goe downe, came _Hectors_ ghost
- With ashie visage, blewish, sulphure eyes,
- His armes torne from his shoulders, and his breast
- Furrowd with wounds, and that which made me weepe,
- Thongs at his heeles, by which _Achilles_ horse
- Drew him in triumph through the Greekish Campe,
- Burst from the earth, crying, _Æneas_ flye,
- _Troy_ is a fire, the Grecians haue the towne,
- _Dido._ O _Hector_ who weepes not to heare thy name?
- _Æn._ Yet flung I forth, and desperate of my life,
- Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this sword
- Sent many of their sauadge ghosts to hell.
- At last came _Pirrhus_ fell and full of ire.
- His harnesse dropping bloud, and on his speare
- The mangled head of _Priams_ yongest sonne,
- And after him his band of Mirmidons,
- With balles of wilde fire in their murdering pawes,
- Which made the funerall flame that burnt faire _Troy_:
- All which hemd me about, crying, this is he.
- _Dido._ Ah, how could poore _Æneas_ scape their hands?
- _Æn._ My mother _Venus_ iealous of my health,
- Conuaid me from their crooked nets and bands:
- So I escapt the furious _Pirrhus_ wrath:
- Who then ran to the pallace of the King,
- And at _Ioues_ Altar finding _Priamus_,
- About whose withered necke hung _Hecuba_,
- Foulding his hand in hers, and ioyntly both
- Beating their breasts and falling on the ground,
- He with his faulchions poynt raisde vp at once,
- And with _Megeras_ eyes stared in their face,
- Threatning a thousand deaths at euery glaunce.
- To whom the aged King thus trembling spoke:
- _Achilles_ sonne, remember what I was,
- Father of fiftie sonnes, but they are slaine,
- Lord of my fortune, but my fortunes turnd,
- King of this Citie, but my _Troy_ is fired,
- And now am neither father, Lord, nor King:
- Yet who so wretched but desires to liue?
- O let me liue, great _Neoptolemus_,
- Not mou'd at all, but smiling at his teares,
- This butcher whil'st his hands were yet held vp,
- Treading vpon his breast, strooke off his hands.
- _Dido._ O end _Æneas_, I can heare no more.
- _Æn._ At which the franticke Queene leapt on his face,
- And in his eyelids hanging by the nayles,
- A little while prolong'd her husbands life:
- At last the souldiers puld her by the heeles,
- And swong her howling in the emptie ayre,
- Which sent an eccho to the wounded King:
- Whereat he lifted vp his bedred lims,
- And would haue grappeld with _Achilles_ sonne,
- Forgetting both his want of strength and hands,
- Which he disdaining whiskt his sword about,
- And with the wound thereof the King fell downe:
- Then from the nauell to the throat at once,
- He ript old _Priam_: at whose latter gaspe
- _Ioues_ marble statue gan to bend the brow,
- As lothing _Pirrhus_ for this wicked act:
- Yet he vndaunted tooke his fathers flagge,
- And dipt it in the old Kings chill cold bloud,
- And then in triumph ran into the streetes,
- Through which he could not passe for slaughtred 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 backe,
- This yong boy in mine armes, and by the hand
- Led faire _Creusa_ my beloued wife,
- When thou _Achates_ with thy sword mad'st way,
- And we were round inuiron'd with the Greekes:
- O there I lost my wife: and had not we
- Fought manfully, I had not told this tale:
- Yet manhood would not serue, of force we fled,
- And as we went vnto our ships, thou knowest
- We sawe _Cassandra_ sprauling in the streetes,
- Whom _Aiax_ rauisht in _Dianas_ Fawne,
- Her cheekes swolne with sighes, her haire all rent,
- Whom I tooke vp to beare vnto our ships;
- But suddenly the Grecians followed vs,
- And I alas, was forst to let her lye.
- Then got we to our ships, and being abourd,
- _Polixena_ cryed out, _Æneas_ stay,
- The Greekes pursue me, stay and take me in.
- Moued with her voyce, I lept into the sea,
- Thinking to beare her on my backe abourd:
- For all our ships were launcht into the deepe,
- And as I swomme, she standing on the shoare,
- Was by the cruell Mirmidons surprizd,
- And after by that _Pirrhus_ sacrifizde.
- _Dido._ I dye with melting ruth, _Æneas_ leaue.
- _Anna._ O what became of aged _Hecuba_?
- _Iar._ How got _Æneas_ to the fleete againe?
- _Dido._ But how scapt _Helen_, she that causde this warre?
- _Æn._ _Achates_ speake, sorrow hath tired me quite.
- _Acha._ What happened to the Queene we cannot shewe,
- We heare they led her captiue into Greece,
- As for _Æneas_ he swomme quickly backe,
- And _Helena_ betraied _Diiphobus_
- Her Louer, after _Alexander_ dyed,
- And so was reconcil'd to _Menelaus_.
- _Dido._ O had that ticing strumpet nere been borne:
- Troian, thy ruthfull tale hath made me sad:
- Come let vs thinke vpon some pleasing sport,
- To rid me from these melancholly thoughts.
- _Exeunt omnes._
- _Enter Venus at another doore, and takes Ascanius by the sleeve._
- _Venus._ Faire child stay thou with _Didos_ waiting maide,
- Ile giue thee Sugar-almonds, sweete Conserues,
- A siluer girdle, and a golden purse,
- And this yong Prince shall be thy playfellow.
- _Asca._ Are you Queene _Didos_ sonne?
- _Cupid._ I, and my mother gaue me this fine bow.
- _Asca._ Shall I haue such a quiuer and a bow?
- _Venus._ Such bow, such quiuer, and such golden shafts,
- Will _Dido_ giue to sweete _Ascanius_:
- For _Didos_ sake I take thee in my armes,
- And sticke these spangled feathers in thy hat,
- Eate Comfites in mine armes, and I will sing.
- Now is he fast asleepe, and in this groue
- Amongst greene brakes Ile lay _Ascanius_,
- And strewe him with sweete smelling Violets,
- Blushing Roses, purple _Hyacinthe_:
- These milke white Doues shall be his Centronels:
- Who if that any seeke to doe him hurt,
- Will quickly flye to _Citheidas_ fist.
- Now _Cupid_ turne thee to _Ascanius_ shape,
- And goe to _Dido_ who in stead 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 vpon _Æneas_ loue:
- And by that meanes repaire his broken ships,
- Victuall his Souldiers, giue him wealthie gifts,
- And he at last depart to _Italy_,
- Or els in _Carthage_ make his kingly throne.
- _Cupid._ I will faire mother, and so play my part,
- As euery touch shall wound Queene _Didos_ heart.
- _Venus._ Sleepe my sweete nephew in these cooling shades,
- Free from the murmure of these running streames,
- The crye of beasts, the ratling of the windes,
- Or whisking of these leaues, all shall be still,
- And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleepe,
- Till I returne and take thee hence againe. _Exit._
- Actus 3. Scena I.
- _Enter Cupid solus._
- _Cupid._ Now _Cupid_ cause the Carthaginian Queene,
- To be inamourd of thy brothers lookes,
- Conuey this golden arrowe in thy sleeue,
- Lest she imagine thou art _Venus_ sonne:
- And when she strokes thee softly on the head,
- Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.
- _Enter Iarbus, Anna, and Dido._
- _Iar._ How long faire _Dido_ shall I pine for thee?
- Tis not enough that thou doest graunt me loue,
- But that I may enioy what I desire:
- That loue is childish which consists in words.
- _Dido._ _Iarbus_, know that thou of all my wooers
- (And yet haue I had many mightier Kings)
- Hast had the greatest fauours I could giue:
- I feare me _Dido_ hath been counted light,
- In being too familiar with _Iarbus_:
- Albeit the Gods doe know no wanton thought
- Had euer residence in _Didos_ breast.
- _Iar._ But _Dido_ is the fauour I request.
- _Dido._ Feare not _Iarbus_, _Dido_ may be thine.
- _Anna._ Looke sister how _Æneas_ little sonne
- Playes with your garments and imbraceth you.
- _Cupid._ No _Dido_ will not take me in her armes,
- I shall not be her sonne, she loues me not.
- _Dido._ Weepe not sweet boy, thou shalt be _Didos_ sonne,
- Sit in my lap and let me heare thee sing.
- No more my child, now talke another while,
- And tell me where learnst thou this pretie song?
- _Cupid._ My cosin _Helen_ taught it me in _Troy_.
- _Dido._ How louely is _Ascanius_ when he smiles?
- _Cupid._ Will _Dido_ let me hang about her necke?
- _Dido._ I wagge, and giue thee leaue to kisse her to.
- _Cupid._ What will you giue me? now Ile haue this Fanne.
- _Dido._ Take it _Ascanius_, for thy fathers sake.
- _Iar._ Come _Dido_, leaue _Ascanius_, let vs walke.
- _Dido._ Goe thou away, _Ascanius_ shall stay.
- _Iar._ Vngentle Queene, is this thy loue to me?
- _Dido._ O stay _Iarbus_, and Ile goe with thee.
- _Cupid._ And if my mother goe, Ile follow her.
- _Dido._ Why staiest thou here? thou art no loue of mine?
- _Iar._ _Iarbus_ dye, seeing she abandons thee.
- _Dido._ No, liue _Iarbus_, what hast thou deseru'd,
- That I should say thou art no loue of mine?
- Something thou hast deseru'd, away I say,
- Depart from _Carthage_, come not in my sight.
- _Iar._ Am I not King of rich _Getulia_?
- _Dido._ _Iarbus_ pardon me, and stay a while.
- _Cupid._ Mother, looke here.
- _Dido._ What telst thou me of rich _Getulia_?
- Am not I Queene of _Libia_? then depart.
- _Iar._ I goe to feed the humour of my Loue,
- Yet not from _Carthage_ for a thousand worlds.
- _Dido._ _Iarbus_.
- _Iar._ Doth _Dido_ call me backe?
- _Dido._ No, but I charge thee neuer looke on me.
- _Iar._ Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me dye. _Exit Iarb._
- _Anna._ Wherefore doth _Dido_ bid _Iarbus_ goe?
- _Dido._ Because his lothsome sight offends mine eye,
- And in my thoughts is shrin'd another loue:
- O _Anna_, didst thou know how sweet loue were,
- Full soone wouldst thou abiure this single life.
- _Anna._ Poore soule I know too well the sower of loue,
- O that _Iarbus_ could but fancie me.
- _Dido._ Is not _Æneas_ faire and beautifull?
- _Anna._ Yes, and _Iarbus_ foule and fauourles.
- _Dido._ Is he not eloquent in all his speech?
- _Anna._ Yes, and _Iarbus_ rude and rusticall.
- _Dido._ Name not _Iarbus_, but sweete _Anna_ say,
- Is not _Æneas_ worthie _Didos_ loue?
- _Anna._ O sister, were you Empresse of the world,
- _Æneas_ well deserues to be your loue,
- So lovely is he that where ere he goes,
- The people swarme to gaze him in the face.
- _Dido._ But tell them none shall gaze on him but I,
- Lest their grosse eye-beames taint my louers cheekes:
- _Anna_, good sister _Anna_ goe for him,
- Lest with these sweete thoughts I melt cleane away.
- _Anna._ Then sister youle abiure _Iarbus_ loue?
- _Dido._ Yet must I heare that lothsome name againe?
- Runne for _Æneas_, or Ile flye to him. _Exit Anna._
- _Cupid._ You shall not hurt my father when he comes.
- _Dido._ No, for thy sake Ile loue thy father well.
- O dull conceipted _Dido_, that till now
- Didst neuer thinke _Æneas_ beautifull:
- But now for quittance of this ouersight,
- Ile make me bracelets of his golden haire,
- His glistering eyes shall be my looking glasse,
- His lips an altar, where Ile offer vp
- As many kisses as the Sea hath sands,
- In stead of musicke I will heare him speake,
- His lookes shall be my only Librarie,
- And thou _Æneas, Didos_ treasurie,
- In whose faire bosome I will locke more wealth,
- Then twentie thousand Indiaes can affoord:
- O here he comes, loue, loue, giue _Dido_ leaue
- To be more modest then her thoughts admit,
- Lest I be made a wonder to the world.
- _Achates_, how doth _Carthage_ please your Lord?
- _Acha._ That will _Æneas_ shewe your maiestie.
- _Dido._ _Æneas_ art thou there?
- _Æn._ I vnderstand your highnesse sent for me.
- _Dido._ No, but now thou art here, tell me in sooth,
- In what might _Dido_ highly pleasure thee.
- _Æn._ So much haue I receiu'd at _Didos_ hands,
- As without blushing I can aske no more:
- Yet Queene of _Affricke_, are my ships vnrigd,
- My Sailes all rent in sunder with the winde,
- My Oares broken, and my Tackling lost,
- Yea all my Nauie split with Rockes and Shelfes:
- Nor Sterne nor Anchor haue our maimed Fleete,
- Our Masts the furious windes strooke ouer bourd:
- Which piteous wants if _Dido_ will supplie,
- We will account her author of our liues.
- _Dido._ _Æneas_, Ile repaire thy Troian ships,
- Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me,
- And let _Achates_ saile to _Italy_:
- Ile giue thee tackling made of riueld gold,
- Wound on the barkes of odoriferous trees,
- Oares of massie Iuorie full of holes,
- Through which the water shall delight to play:
- Thy Anchors shall be hewed from Christall Rockes,
- Which if thou lose shall shine aboue the waues;
- The Masts whereon thy swelling sailes shall hang,
- Hollow Pyramides of siluer plate:
- The sailes of foulded Lawne, where shall be wrought
- The warres of _Troy_, but not _Troyes_ ouerthrow:
- For ballace, emptie _Didos_ treasurie,
- Take what ye will, but leaue _Æneas_ here.
- _Achates_, thou shalt be so meanly clad,
- As Seaborne Nymphes shall swarme about thy ships,
- And wanton Mermaides court thee with sweete songs,
- Flinging in fauours of more soueraigne worth,
- Then _Thetis_ hangs about _Apolloes_ necke,
- So that _Æneas_ may but stay with me.
- _Æn._ Wherefore would _Dido_ haue _Æneas_ stay?
- _Dido._ To warre against my bordering enemies:
- _Æneas_, thinke not _Dido_ is in loue:
- For if that any man could conquer me,
- I had been wedded ere _Æneas_ came:
- See where the pictures of my suiters hang,
- And are not these as faire as faire may be?
- _Acha._ I saw this man at _Troy_ ere _Troy_ was sackt.
- _Æn._ I this in _Greece_ when _Paris_ stole faire _Helen_.
- _Illio._ This man and I were at _Olympus_ games.
- _Serg._ I know this face, he is a Persian borne,
- I traueld with him to _Ætolia_.
- _Cloan._ And I in _Athens_ with this gentleman,
- Vnlesse I be deceiu'd disputed once.
- _Dido._ But speake _Æneas_, know you none of these?
- _Æn._ No Madame, but it seemes that these are Kings.
- _Dido._ All these and others which I neuer sawe,
- Haue been most vrgent suiters for my loue,
- Some came in person, others sent their Legats:
- Yet none obtaind me, I am free from all,
- And yet God knowes intangled vnto one.
- This was an Orator, and thought by words
- To compasse me, but yet he was deceiu'd:
- And this a Spartan Courtier vaine and wilde,
- But his fantastick humours pleasde not me:
- This was _Alcion_, a Musition,
- But playd he nere so sweet, I let him goe:
- This was the wealthie King of _Thessaly_,
- But I had gold enough and cast him off:
- This _Meleagers_ sonne, a warlike Prince,
- But weapons gree not with my tender yeares:
- The rest are such as all the world well knowes,
- Yet how I sweare by heauen and him I loue,
- I was as farre from loue, as they from hate.
- _Æn._ O happie shall he be whom _Dido_ loues.
- _Dido._ Then neuer say that thou art miserable,
- Because it may be thou shalt be my loue:
- Yet boast not of it, for I loue thee not,
- And yet I hate thee not: O if I speake
- I shall betray my selfe: _Æneas_ speake,
- We two will goe a hunting in the woods,
- But not so much for thee, thou art but one,
- As for _Achates_, and his followers. _Exeunt._
- _Enter Iuno to Ascanius asleepe._
- _Iuno._ Here lyes my hate, _Æneas_ cursed brat,
- The boy wherein false destinie delights,
- The heire of furie, the fauorite of the face,
- That vgly impe that shall outweare my wrath,
- And wrong my deitie with high disgrace:
- But I will take another order now,
- And race th'eternall Register of time:
- _Troy_ shall no more call him her second hope,
- Nor _Venus_ triumph in his tender youth:
- For here in spight of heauen Ile murder him,
- And feede infection with his left out life:
- Say _Paris_, now shall _Venus_ haue the ball?
- Say vengeance, now shall her _Ascanius_ dye.
- O no God wot, I cannot watch my time,
- Nor quit good turnes with double fee downe told:
- Tut, I am simple without made to hurt,
- And haue no gall at all to grieue my foes:
- But lustfull _Ioue_ and his adulterous child,
- Shall finde it written on confusions front,
- That onely _Iuno_ rules in _Rhamnuse_ towne.
- _Enter Venus._
- _Venus._ What should this meane? my Doues are back returnd,
- Who warne me of such daunger prest at hand,
- To harme my sweete _Ascanius_ louely life.
- _Iuno_, my mortall foe, what make you here?
- Auaunt old witch and trouble not my wits.
- _Iuno._ Fie _Venus_, that such causeles words of wrath,
- Should ere defile so faire a mouth as thine:
- Are not we both sprong of celestiall rase,
- And banquet as two Sisters with the Gods?
- Why is it then displeasure should disioyne,
- Whom kindred and acquaintance counites.
- _Venus._ Out hatefull hag, thou wouldst haue slaine my sonne,
- Had not my Doues discou'rd thy entent:
- But I will teare thy eyes fro forth thy head,
- And feast the birds with their bloud-shotten balles,
- If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.
- _Iuno._ Is this then all the thankes that I shall haue,
- For sauing him from Snakes and Serpents stings,
- That would haue kild him sleeping as he lay?
- What though I was offended with thy sonne,
- And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land,
- When for the hate of Troian _Ganimed_,
- That was aduanced by my _Hebes_ shame,
- And _Paris_ iudgement of the heauenly ball,
- I mustred all the windes vnto his wracke,
- And vrg'd each Element to his annoy:
- Yet now I doe repent me of his ruth,
- And wish that I had neuer wrongd him so:
- Bootles I sawe it was to warre with fate,
- That hath so many vnresisted friends:
- Wherefore I chaunge my counsell with the time,
- And planted loue where enuie erst had sprong.
- _Venus._ Sister of _Ioue_, if that thy loue be such,
- As these thy protestations doe paint forth,
- We two as friends one fortune will deuide:
- _Cupid_ shall lay his arrowes in thy lap,
- And to a Scepter chaunge his golden shafts,
- Fancie and modestie shall liue as mates,
- And thy faire peacockes by my pigeons pearch:
- Loue my _Æneas_, and desire is thine,
- The day, the night, my Swannes, my sweetes are thine.
- _Iuno._ More then melodious are these words to me,
- That ouercioy my soule with their content:
- _Venus_, sweete _Venus_, how may I deserue
- Such amourous fauours at thy beautious hand?
- But that thou maist more easilie perceiue,
- How highly I doe prize this amitie,
- Harke to a motion of eternall league,
- Which I will make in quittance of thy loue:
- Thy sonne thou knowest with _Dido_ now remaines,
- And feedes his eyes with fauours of her Court,
- She likewise in admyring spends her time,
- And cannot talke nor thinke of ought but him:
- Why should not they then ioyne in marriage,
- And bring forth mightie Kings to Carthage towne,
- Whom casualtie of sea hath made such friends?
- And _Venus_, let there be a match confirmd
- Betwixt these two, whose loues are so alike,
- And both our Deities conioynd in one,
- Shall chaine felicitie vnto their throne.
- _Venus._ Well could I like this reconcilements meanes,
- But much I feare my sonne will nere consent,
- Whose armed soule alreadie on the sea,
- Darts forth her light to _Lauinias_ shoare.
- _Iuno._ Faire Queene of loue, I will deuorce these doubts,
- And finde the way to wearie such fond thoughts:
- This day they both a hunting forth will ride
- Into these woods, adioyning to these walles,
- When in the midst of all their gamesome sports,
- Ile make the Clowdes dissolue their watrie workes,
- And drench _Siluanus_ dwellings with their shewers,
- Then in one Caue the Queene and he shall meete,
- And interchangeably discourse their thoughts,
- Whose short conclusion will seale vp their hearts,
- Vnto the purpose which we now propound.
- _Venus._ Sister, I see you sauour of my wiles,
- Be it as you will haue for this once,
- Meane time, _Ascanius_ shall be my charge,
- Whom I will beare to _Ida_ in mine armes,
- And couch him in _Adonis_ purple downe, _Exeunt._
- _Enter Dido, Æneas, Anna, Iarbus, Achates, and followers._
- _Dido._ _Æneas_, thinke not but I honor thee,
- That thus in person goe with thee to hunt:
- My princely robes thou seest are layd aside,
- Whose glittering pompe _Dianas_ shrowdes supplies,
- All fellowes now disposde alike to sporte,
- The woods are wide, and we haue store of game:
- Faire Troian, hold my golden bowe awhile,
- Vntill I gird my quiuer to my side:
- Lords goe before, we two must talke alone.
- _Iar._ Vngentle, can she wrong _Iarbus_ so?
- Ile dye before a stranger haue that grace:
- We two will talke alone, what words be these?
- _Dido._ What makes _Iarbus_ here of all the rest?
- We could haue gone without your companie.
- _Æn._ But loue and duetie led him on perhaps,
- To presse beyond acceptance to your sight.
- _Iar._ Why man of _Troy_, doe I offend thine eyes?
- Or art thou grieude thy betters presse so nye?
- _Dido._ How now Getulian, are ye growne so braue,
- To challenge vs with your comparisons?
- Pesant, goe seeke companions like thy selfe,
- And meddle not with any that I loue:
- _Æneas_, be not moude at what he sayes,
- For otherwhile he will be out of ioynt.
- _Iar._ Women may wrong by priuiledge of loue:
- But should that man of men (_Dido_ except)
- Haue taunted me in these opprobrious termes,
- I would haue either drunke his dying bloud,
- Or els I would haue giuen my life in gage?
- _Dido._ Huntsmen, why pitch you not your toyles apace,
- And rowse the light foote Deere from forth their laire.
- _Anna._ Sister, see see _Ascanius_ in his pompe,
- Bearing his huntspeare brauely in his hand.
- _Dido._ Yea little sonne, are you so forward now?
- _Asca._ I mother, I shall one day be a man,
- And better able vnto other armes,
- Meane time these wanton weapons serue my warre,
- Which I will breake betwixt a Lyons iawes.
- _Dido._ What, darest thou looke a Lyon in the face?
- _Asca._ I, and outface him to, doe what he can.
- _Anna._ How like his father speaketh he in all?
- _Æn._ And mought I liue to see him sacke rich _Thebes_,
- And loade his speare with Grecian Princes heads,
- Then would I wish me with _Anchises_ Tombe,
- And dead to honour that hath brought me vp.
- _Iar._ And might I liue to see thee shipt away,
- And hoyst aloft on _Neptunes_ hideous hilles,
- Then would I wish me in faire _Didos_ armes,
- And dead to scorne that hath pursued me so.
- _Æn._ Stoute friend _Achates_, doest thou know this wood?
- _Acha._ As I remember, here you shot the Deere,
- That sau'd your famisht souldiers liues from death,
- When first you set your foote vpon the shoare,
- And here we met fair _Venus_ virgine like,
- Bearing her bowe and quiuer at her backe.
- _Æn._ O how these irksome labours now delight,
- And ouerioy my thoughts with their escape:
- Who would not vndergoe all kind of toyle,
- To be well stor'd with such a winters tale?
- _Dido._ _Æneas_, leaue these dumpes and lets away,
- Some to the mountaines, some vnto the soyle,
- You to the vallies, thou vnto the house.
- _Exeunt omnes: manent._
- _Iar._ I, this it is which wounds me to the death,
- To see a Phrigian far fet to the sea,
- Preferd before a man of maiestie:
- O loue, O hate, O cruell womens hearts,
- That imitate the Moone in euery chaunge,
- And like the Planets euer loue to raunge:
- What shall I doe thus wronged with disdaine?
- Reuenge me on _Æneas_, or on her:
- On her? fond man, that were to warre gainst heauen,
- And with one shaft prouoke ten thousand darts:
- This Troians end will be thy enuies aime,
- Whose bloud will reconcile thee to content,
- And make loue drunken with thy sweete desire:
- But _Dido_ that now holdeth him so deare,
- Will dye with very tidings of his death:
- But time will discontinue her content,
- And mould her minde vnto newe fancies shapes:
- O God of heauen, turne the hand of fate
- Vnto that happie day of my delight,
- And then, what then? _Iarbus_ shall but loue:
- So doth he now, though not with equall gaine,
- That resteth in the riuall of thy paine,
- Who nere will cease to soare till he be slaine. _Exit._
- _The storme. Enter Æneas and Dido in the Caue at seuerall times._
- _Dido._ _Æneas._
- _Æn._ _Dido._
- _Dido._ Tell me deare loue, how found you out this Caue?
- _Æn._ By chance sweete Queene, as _Mars_ and _Venus_ met.
- _Dido._ Why, that was in a net, where we are loose,
- And yet I am not free, oh would I were.
- _Æn._ Why, what is it that _Dido_ may desire
- And not obtaine, be it in humaine power?
- _Dido._ The thing that I will dye before I aske,
- And yet desire to haue before I dye.
- _Æn._ It is not ought _Æneas_ may achieue?
- _Dido._ _Æneas_ no, although his eyes doe pearce.
- _Æn._ What, hath _Iarbus_ angred her in ought?
- And will she be auenged on his life?
- _Dido._ Not angred me, except in angring thee.
- _Æn._ Who then of all so cruell may he be,
- That should detaine thy eye in his defects?
- _Dido._ The man that I doe eye where ere I am,
- Whose amorous face like _Pean_ sparkles fire,
- When as he buts his beames on _Floras_ bed,
- _Prometheus_ hath put on _Cupids_ shape,
- And I must perish in his burning armes:
- _Æneas_, O _Æneas_, quench these flames.
- _Æn._ What ailes my Queene, is she falne sicke of late?
- _Dido._ Not sicke my loue, but sicke, I must conceale
- The torment, that it bootes me not reueale;
- And yet Ile speake, and yet Ile hold my peace,
- Doe shame her worst, I will disclose my griefe:
- _Æneas_, thou art he, what did I say?
- Something it was that now I haue forgot.
- _Æn._ What meanes faire _Dido_ by this doubtfull speech?
- _Dido._ Nay, nothing, but _Æneas_ loues me not.
- _Æn._ _Æneas_ thoughts dare not ascend so high
- As _Didos_ heart, which Monarkes might not scale.
- _Dido._ It was because I sawe no King like thee,
- Whose golden Crowne might ballance my content:
- But now that I haue found what to effect,
- I followe one that loueth fame for me,
- And rather had seeme faire _Sirens_ eyes,
- Then to the Carthage Queene that dyes for him.
- _Æn._ If that your maiestie can looke so lowe,
- As my despised worths, that shun all praise,
- With this my hand I giue to you my heart,
- And vow by all the Gods of Hospitalitie,
- By heauen and earth, and my faire brothers bowe,
- By _Paphos_, _Capys_, and the purple Sea,
- From whence my radiant mother did descend,
- And by this Sword that saued me from the Greekes,
- Neuer to leaue these newe vpreared walles,
- Whiles _Dido_ liues and rules in _Iunos_ towne,
- Neuer to like or loue any but her.
- _Dido._ What more then delian musicke doe I heare,
- That calles my soule from forth his liuing seate,
- To moue vnto the measures of delight:
- Kind clowdes that sent forth such a curteous storme,
- As made disdaine to flye to fancies lap:
- Stoute loue in mine armes make thy _Italy_,
- Whose Crowne and kingdome rests at thy commande.
- _Sicheus_, not _Æneas_ be thou calde:
- The King of _Carthage_, not _Anchises_ sonne:
- Hold, take these Iewels at thy Louers hand,
- These golden bracelets, and this wedding ring,
- Wherewith my husband woo'd me yet a maide,
- And be thou king of _Libia_, by my guift.
- _Exeunt to the Caue._
- Actus 4. Scena 1.
- _Enter Achates, Ascanius, Iarbus, and Anna._
- _Acha._ Did euer men see such a sudden storme?
- Or day so cleere so suddenly orecast?
- _Iar._ I thinke some fell Inchantresse dwelleth here,
- That can call them forth when as she please,
- And diue into blacke tempests treasurie,
- When as she mcanes to maske the world with clowdes.
- _Anna._ In all my life I neuer knew the like,
- It haild, it snowde, it lightned all at once.
- _Acha._ I thinke it was the diuels reuelling night,
- There was such hurly burly in the heauens:
- Doubtles _Apollos_ Axeltree is crackt,
- Or aged _Atlas_ shoulder out of ioynt,
- The motion was soouer violent.
- _Iar._ In all this coyle, where haue ye left the Queene?
- _Asca._ Nay, where is my warlike father, can you tell?
- _Anna._ Behold where both of them come forth the Caue.
- _Iar._ Come forth the Caue: can heauen endure this sight?
- _Iarbus_, curse that vnreuenging _Ioue_,
- Whose flintie darts slept in _Tiphous_ den,
- Whiles these adulterers surfetted with sinne:
- Nature, why mad'st me not some poysonous beast,
- That with the sharpnes of my edged sting,
- I might haue stakte them both vnto the earth,
- Whil'st they were sporting in this darksome Caue?
- _Æn._ The ayre is cleere, and Southerne windes are whist,
- Come _Dido_, let vs hasten to the towne,
- Since gloomie _Æolus_ doth cease to frowne.
- _Dido._ _Achates_ and _Ascanius_, well met.
- _Æn._ Faire _Anna_, how escapt you from the shower?
- _Anna._ As others did, by running to the wood.
- _Dido._ But where were you _Iarbus_ all this while?
- _Iar._ Not with _Æneas_ in the vgly Caue.
- _Dido._ I see _Æneas_ sticketh in your minde,
- But I will soone put by that stumbling blocke,
- And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares. _Exeunt._
- _Enters Iarbus to Sacrifice._
- _Iar._ Come seruants, come bring forth the Sacrifize,
- That I may pacifie that gloomie _Ioue_,
- Whose emptie Altars haue enlarg'd our illes.
- Eternall _Ioue_, great master of the Clowdes,
- Father of gladnesse, and all frollicke thoughts,
- That with thy gloomie hand corrects the heauen,
- When ayrie creatures warre amongst themselues:
- Heare, heare, O heare _Iarbus_ plaining prayers,
- Whose hideous ecchoes make the welkin howle,
- And all the woods _Eliza_ to resound:
- The woman that thou wild vs entertaine,
- Where straying in our borders vp and downe,
- She crau'd a hide of ground to build a towne,
- With whom we did deuide both lawes and land,
- And all the fruites that plentie els sends forth,
- Scorning our loues and royall marriage rites,
- Yeelds vp her beautie to a strangers bed,
- Who hauing wrought her shame, is straight way fled:
- Now if thou beest a pitying God of power,
- On whom ruth and compassion euer waites,
- Redresse these wrongs, and warne him to his ships,
- That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.
- _Enter Anna._
- _Anna._ How now _Iarbus_, at your prayers so hard?
- _Iar._ I _Anna_, is there ought you would with me?
- _Anna._ Nay, no such waightie busines of import,
- But may be slackt vntill another time:
- Yet if you would partake with me the cause
- Of this deuotion that detaineth you,
- I would be thankfull for such curtesie.
- _Iar._ _Anna_, against this Troian doe I pray,
- Who seekes to rob me of thy Sisters loue,
- And dive into her heart by coloured lookes.
- _Anna._ Alas poore King that labours so in vaine.
- For her that so delighteth in thy paine:
- Be rul'd by me, and seeke some other loue,
- Whose yeelding heart may yeeld thee more reliefe.
- _Iar._ Mine eye is fixt where fancie cannot start,
- O leaue me, leaue me to my silent thoughts,
- That register the numbers of my ruth,
- And I will either moue the thoughtles flint,
- Or drop out both mine eyes in drisling teares,
- Before my sorrowes tide haue any stint.
- _Anna._ I will not leaue _Iarbus_ whom I loue,
- In this delight of dying pensiuenes:
- Away with _Dido_, _Anna_ be thy song,
- _Anna_ that doth admire thee more then heauen.
- _Iar._ I may nor will list to such loathsome chaunge,
- That intercepts the course of my desire:
- Seruants, come fetch these emptie vessels here,
- For I will flye from these alluring eyes,
- That doe pursue my peace where ere it goes. _Exit._
- _Anna._ _Iarbus_ stay, louing _Iarbus_ stay,
- For I haue honey to present thee with:
- Hard hearted, wilt not deigne to heare me speake,
- Ile follow thee with outcryes nere the lesse,
- And strewe thy walkes with my discheueld haire. _Exit._
- _Enter Æneas alone._
- _Æn._ _Carthage_, my friendly host adue,
- Since destinie doth call me from the shoare:
- _Hermes_ this night descending in a dreame,
- Hath summond me to fruitfull _Italy_:
- _Ioue_ wils it so, my mother wils it so:
- Let my Phenissa graunt, and then I goe:
- Graunt she or no, _Æneas_ must away,
- Whose golden fortunes clogd with courtly ease,
- Cannot ascend to Fames immortall house,
- Or banquet in bright honors burnisht hall,
- Till he hath furrowed _Neptunes_ glassie fieldes,
- And cut a passage through his toples hilles:
- _Achates_ come forth, _Sergestus_, _Illioneus_,
- _Cloanthus_, haste away, _Æneas_ calles.
- _Enter Achates, Cloanthus, Sergestus, and Illioneus._
- _Acha._ What willes our Lord, or wherefore did he call?
- _Æn._ The dreames (braue mates) that did beset my bed,
- When sleepe but newly had imbrast the night,
- Commaunds me leaue these vnrenowmed beames,
- Whereas Nobilitie abhors to stay,
- And none but base _Æneas_ will abide:
- Abourd, abourd, since Fates doe bid abourd,
- And slice the Sea with sable coloured ships,
- On whom the nimble windes may all day waight,
- And follow them as footemen through the deepe:
- Yet _Dido_ casts her eyes like anchors out,
- To stay my Fleete from loosing forth the Bay:
- Come backe, come backe, I heare her crye a farre,
- And let me linke my bodie to my lips,
- That tyed together by the striuing tongues,
- We may as one saile into _Italy_.
- _Acha._ Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth,
- And follow your foreseeing starres in all;
- This is no life for men at armes to liue,
- Where daliance doth consume a Souldiers strength,
- And wanton motions of alluring eyes,
- Effeminate our mindes inur'd to warre.
- _Illio._ Why, let vs build a Citie of our owne,
- And not stand lingering here for amorous lookes:
- Will _Dido_ raise old _Priam_ forth his graue,
- And build the towne againe the Greekes did burne?
- No no, she cares not how we sinke or swimme,
- So she may haue _Æneas_ in her armes.
- _Cloan._ To _Italy_, sweete friends to _Italy_,
- We will not stay a minute longer here.
- _Æn._ Troians abourd, and I will follow you,
- I faine would goe, yet beautie calles me backe:
- To leaue her so and not once say farewell,
- Were to transgresse against all lawes of loue:
- But if I vse such ceremonious thankes,
- As parting friends accustome on the shoare,
- Her siluer armes will coll me round about,
- And teares of pearle, crye stay, _Æneas_, stay:
- Each word she sayes will then containe a Crowne,
- And euery speech be ended with a kisse:
- I may not dure this female drudgerie,
- To sea _Æneas_, finde out _Italy_. _Exit._
- _Enter Dido and Anna._
- _Dido._ O _Anna_, runne vnto the water side,
- They say _Æneas_ men are going abourd,
- It may be he will steale away with them:
- Stay not to answere me, runne _Anna_ runne.
- O foolish Troians that would steale from hence,
- And not let _Dido_ vnderstand their drift:
- I would haue giuen _Achates_ store of gold,
- And _Illioneus_ gum and Libian spice,
- The common souldiers rich imbrodered coates,
- And siluer whistles to controule the windes,
- Which _Circes_ sent _Sicheus_ when he liued:
- Vnworthie are they of a Queenes reward:
- See where they come, how might I doe to chide?
- _Enter Anna, with Æneas, Achates, Illioneus, and Sergestus._
- _Anna._ Twas time to runne, _Æneas_ had been gone,
- The sailes were hoysing vp, and he abourd.
- _Dido._ Is this thy loue to me?
- _Æn._ O princely _Dido_, giue me leaue to speake,
- I went to take my farewell _Achates_.
- _Dido._ How haps _Achates_ bid me not farewell?
- _Acha._ Because I feard your grace would keepe me here.
- _Dido._ To rid thee of that doubt, abourd againe,
- I charge thee put to sea and stay not here.
- _Acha._ Then let _Æneas_ goe abourd with vs.
- _Dido._ Get you abourd, _Æneas_ meanes to stay.
- _Æn._ The sea is rough, the windes blow to the shoare.
- _Dido._ O false _Æneas_, now the sea is rough,
- But when you were abourd twas calme enough,
- Thou and _Achates_ ment to saile away.
- _Æn._ Hath not the Carthage Queene mine onely sonne?
- Thinkes _Dido_ I will goe and leaue him here?
- _Dido._ _Æneas_ pardon me, for I forgot
- That yong _Ascanius_ lay with me this night:
- Loue made me iealous, but to make amends,
- Weare the emperiall Crowne of _Libia_,
- Sway thou the Punike Scepter in my steede,
- And punish me _Æneas_ for this crime.
- _Æn._ This kisse shall be faire _Didos_ punishment.
- _Dido._ O how a Crowne becomes _Æneas_ head!
- Stay here _Æneas_, and commaund as King.
- _Æn._ How vaine am I to weare this Diadem,
- And beare this golden Scepter in my hand?
- A Burgonet of steele, and not a Crowne,
- A Sword, and not a Scepter fits _Æneas_.
- _Dido._ O keepe them still, and let me gaze my fill:
- Now lookes _Æneas_ like immortall _Ioue_,
- O where is _Ganimed_ to hold his cup,
- And _Mercury_ to flye for what he calles,
- Ten thousand _Cupids_ houer in the ayre,
- And fanne it in _Æneas_ louely face,
- O that the Clowdes were here wherein thou fleest,
- That thou and I vnseene might sport our selues:
- Heauens enuious of our ioyes is waxen pale,
- And when we whisper, then the starres fall downe,
- To be partakers of our honey talke.
- _Æn._ O _Dido_, patronesse of all our liues,
- When I leaue thee, death be my punishment,
- Swell raging seas, frowne wayward destinies,
- Blow windes, threaten ye Rockes and sandie shelfes,
- This is the harbour that _Æneas_ seekes,
- Lets see what tempests can anoy me now.
- _Dido._ Not all the world can take thee from mine armes,
- _Æneas_ may commaund as many Moores,
- As in the Sea are little water drops:
- And now to make experience of my loue,
- Faire sister _Anna_ leade my louer forth,
- And seated on my Gennet, let him ride
- As _Didos_ husband through the punicke streetes,
- And will my guard with Mauritanian darts,
- To waite vpon him as their soueraigne Lord.
- _Anna._ What if the Citizens repine thereat?
- _Dido._ Those that dislike what _Dido_ giues in charge,
- Commaund my guard to slay for their offence:
- Shall vulgar pesants storme at what I doe?
- The ground is mine that giues them sustenance,
- The ayre wherein they breathe, the water, fire,
- All that they haue, their lands, their goods, their liues,
- And I the Goddesse of all these, commaund
- _Æneas_ ride as Carthaginian King.
- _Acha._ _Æneas_ for his parentage deserues
- As large a kingdome as is _Libia_.
- _Æn._ I, and vnlesse the destinies be false,
- I shall be planted in as rich a land.
- _Dido._ Speake of no other land, this land is thine,
- _Dido_ is thine, henceforth Ile call thee Lord:
- Doe as I bid thee, sister leade the way,
- And from a turret Ile behold my loue.
- _Æn._ Then here in me shall flourish _Priams_ race,
- And thou and I _Achates_, for reuenge,
- For _Troy_, for _Priam_, for his fiftie sonnes,
- Our kinsmens loues, and thousand guiltles soules,
- Will leade an hoste against the hatefull Greekes,
- And fire proude _Lacedemon_ ore their heads. _Exit._
- _Dido._ Speakes not _Æneas_ like a Conqueror?
- O blessed tempests that did driue him in,
- O happie sand that made him runne aground:
- Henceforth you shall be our Carthage Gods:
- I, but it may be he will leaue my loue,
- And seeke a forraine land calde _Italy_:
- O that I had a charme to keepe the windes
- Within the closure of a golden ball,
- Or that the Tyrrhen sea were in mine armes,
- That he might suffer shipwracke on my breast,
- As oft as he attempts to hoyst vp saile:
- I must preuent him, wishing will not serue:
- Goe, bid my Nurse take yong _Ascanius_,
- And beare him in the countrey to her house,
- _Æneas_ will not goe without his sonne:
- Yet left he should, for I am full of feare,
- Bring me his oares, his tackling, and his sailes;
- What if I sinke his ships? O heele frowne.
- Better he frowne, then I should dye for griefe:
- I cannot see him frowne, it may not be:
- Armies of foes resolu'd to winne this towne,
- Or impious traitors vowde to haue my life,
- Affright me not, onely _Æneas_ frowne
- Is that which terrifies poore _Didos_ heart:
- Nor bloudie speares appearing in the ayre,
- Presage the downfall of my Emperie,
- Nor blazing Commets threatens _Didos_ death,
- It is _Æneas_ frowne that ends my daies:
- If he forsake me not, I neuer dye,
- For in his lookes I see eternitie,
- And heele make me immortall with a kisse.
- _Enter a Lord._
- Your Nurse is gone with yong _Ascanius_,
- And heres _Æneas_ tackling, oares and sailes.
- _Dido._ Are these the sailes that in despight of me,
- Packt with the windes to beare _Æneas_ hence?
- Ile hang ye in the chamber where I lye,
- Driue if you can my house to _Italy_:
- Ile set the casement open that the windes
- May enter in, and once againe conspire
- Against the life of me poore Carthage Queene:
- But though he goe, he stayes in Carthage still,
- And let rich Carthage fleete vpon the seas,
- So I may haue _Æneas_ in mine armes.
- Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plaines,
- And would be toyling in the watrie billowes,
- To rob their mistresse of her Troian guest?
- O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense,
- To measure how I prize _Æneas_ loue,
- Thou wouldst haue leapt from out the Sailers hands,
- And told me that _Æneas_ ment to goe:
- And yet I blame thee not, thou art but wood.
- The water which our Poets terme a Nimph,
- Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast,
- And shrunke not backe, knowing my loue was there?
- The water is an Element, no Nimph,
- Why should I blame _Æneas_ for his flight?
- O _Dido_, blame not him, but breake his oares,
- These were the instruments that launcht him forth,
- Theres not so much as this base tackling too,
- But dares to heape vp sorrowe to my heart:
- Was it not you that hoysed vp these sailes?
- Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?
- For this will _Dido_ tye ye full of knots,
- And sheere ye all asunder with her hands:
- Now serue to chastize shipboyes for their faults,
- Ye shall no more offend the Carthage Queene,
- Now let him hang my fauours on his masts,
- And see if those will serue in steed of sailes:
- For tackling, let him take the chaines of gold,
- Which I bestowd vpon his followers:
- In steed of oares, let him vse his hands,
- And swim to _Italy_, Ile keepe these sure:
- Come beare them in. _Exit._
- _Enter the Nurse with Cupid for Ascanius._
- _Nurse._ My Lord _Ascanius_, ye must goe with me.
- _Cupid._ Whither must I goe? Ile stay with my mother.
- _Nurse._ No, thou shalt goe with me vnto my house,
- I haue an Orchard that hath store of plums,
- Browne Almonds, Seruises, ripe Figs and Dates,
- Dewberries, Apples, yellow Orenges,
- A garden where are Bee hiues full of honey,
- Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers,
- And in the midst doth run a siluer streame,
- Where thou shalt see the red gild fishes leape,
- White Swannes, and many louely water fowles:
- Now speake _Ascanius_, will ye goe or no?
- _Cupid._ Come come Ile goe, how farre hence is your house?
- _Nurse._ But hereby child, we shall get thither straight.
- _Cupid._ Nurse I am wearie, will you carrie me?
- _Nurse._ I, so youle dwell with me and call me mother.
- _Cupid._ So youle loue me, I care not if I doe.
- _Nurse._ That I might liue to see this boy a man,
- How pretilie he laughs, goe ye wagge,
- Youle be a twigger when you come to age.
- Say _Dido_ what she will I am not old,
- Ile be no more a widowe, I am young,
- Ile haue a husband, or els a louer.
- _Cupid._ A husband and no teeth!
- _Nurse._ O what meane I to haue such foolish thoughts!
- Foolish is loue, a toy, O sacred loue,
- If there be any heauen in earth, tis loue:
- Especially in women of your yeares.
- Blush blush for shame, why shouldst thou thinke of loue?
- A graue, and not a louer fits thy age:
- A graue, why? I may liue a hundred yeares,
- Fourescore is but a girles age, loue is sweete:
- My vaines are withered, and my sinewes drie,
- Why doe I thinke of loue now I should dye?
- _Cupid._ Come Nurse.
- _Nurse._ Well, if he come a wooing he shall speede,
- O how vnwise was I to say him nay! _Exeunt._
- Actus 5.
- _Enter Æneas with a paper in his hand, drawing the platforme of the
- citie, with him Achates, Cloanthus, and Illieneus._
- _Æn._ Triumph my mates, our trauels are at end,
- Here will _Æneas_ build a statelier _Troy_,
- Then that which grim _Atrides_ ouerthrew:
- _Carthage_ shall vaunt her pettie walles no more,
- For I will grace them with a fairer frame,
- And clad her in a Chrystall liuerie,
- Wherein the day may euermore delight:
- From golden _India Ganges_ will I fetch,
- Whose wealthie streames may waite vpon her towers,
- And triple wise intrench her round about:
- The Sunne from Egypt shall rich odors bring,
- Wherewith his burning beames like labouring Bees,
- That loade their thighes with _Hyblas_ honeys spoyles,
- Shall here vnburden their exhaled sweetes,
- And plant our pleasant suburbes with her fumes.
- _Acha._ What length or bredth shal this braue towne cōtaine?
- _Æn._ Not past foure thousand paces at the most.
- _Illio._ But what shall it be calde, _Troy_ as before?
- _Æn._ That haue I not determinde with my selfe.
- _Cloan._ Let it be term'd _Ænea_ by your name.
- _Serg._ Rather _Ascania_ by your little sonne.
- _Æn._ Nay, I will haue it calde _Anchisaon_,
- Of my old fathers name.
- _Enter Hermes with Ascanius._
- _Hermes._ _Æneas_ stay, _Ioues_ Herald bids thee stay.
- _Æn._ Whom doe I see, _Ioues_ winged messenger?
- Welcome to _Carthage_ new erected towne.
- _Hermes._ Why cosin, stand you building Cities here,
- And beautifying the Empire of this Queene,
- While _Italy_ is cleane out of thy minde?
- To too forgetfull of thine owne affayres,
- Why wilt thou so betray thy sonnes good hap?
- The king of Gods sent me from highest heauen,
- To sound this angrie message in thine eares.
- Vaine man, what Monarky expectst thou here?
- Or with what thought sleepst thou in _Libia_ shoare?
- If that all glorie hath forsaken thee,
- And thou despise the praise of such attempts:
- Yet thinke vpon _Ascanius_ prophesie,
- And yong _Iulus_ more then thousand yeares,
- Whom I haue brought from _Ida_ where he slept,
- And bore yong _Cupid_ vnto _Cypresse_ Ile.
- _Æn._ This was my mother that beguild the Queene,
- And made me take my brother for my sonne:
- No maruell _Dido_ though thou be in loue,
- That daylie danlest _Cupid_ in thy armes:
- Welcome sweet child, where hast thou been this long?
- _Asca._ Eating sweet Comfites with Queene _Didos_ maide,
- Who euer since hath luld me in her armes.
- _Æn._ _Sergestus_, beare him hence vnto our ships,
- Lest _Dido_ spying him keepe him for a pledge.
- _Hermes._ Spendst thou thy time about this little boy,
- And giuest not care vnto the charge I bring?
- I tell thee thou must straight to _Italy_,
- Or els abide the wrath of frowning _Ioue_.
- _Æn._ How should I put into the raging deepe,
- Who haue no sailes nor tackling for my ships?
- What would the Gods haue me _Deucalion_ like,
- Flote vp and downe where ere the billowes driue?
- Though she repairde my fleete and gaue me ships,
- Yet hath she tane away my oares and masts,
- And left me neither saile nor sterne abourd.
- _Enter to them Iarbus._
- _Iar._ How now _Æneas_, sad, what meanes these dumpes?
- _Æn._ _Iarbus_, I am cleane besides my selfe,
- _Ioue_ hath heapt on me such a desperate charge,
- Which neither art nor reason may atchieue,
- Nor I deuise by what meanes to contriue.
- _Iar._ As how I pray, may I entreat you tell.
- _Æn._ With speede he bids me sail to _Italy_.
- When as I want both rigging for my fleete,
- And also furniture for these my men.
- _Iar._ If that be all, then cheare thy drooping lookes,
- For I will furnish thee with such supplies:
- Let some of those thy followers goe with me,
- And they shall haue what thing so ere thou needst.
- _Æn._ Thankes good _Iarbus_ for thy friendly ayde,
- _Achates_ and the rest shall waite on thee,
- Whil'st I rest thankfull for this curtesie.
- _Exit Iarbus and Æneas traine._
- Now will I haste vnto _Lauinian_ shoare,
- And raise a new foundation to old _Troy_,
- Witnes the Gods, and witnes heauen and earth,
- How loth I am to leaue these _Libian_ bounds,
- But that eternall _Iupiter_ commands.
- _Enter Dido and Æneas._
- _Dido._ I feare I sawe _Æneas_ little sonne,
- Led by _Achates_ to the Troian fleete:
- If it be so, his father meanes to flye:
- But here he is, now _Dido_ trie thy wit.
- _Æneas_, wherefore goe thy men abourd?,
- Why are thy ships new rigd? or to what end
- Launcht from the hauen, lye they in the Rhode?
- Pardon me though I aske, loue makes me aske.
- _Æn._ O pardon me, if I resolue thee why:
- _Æneas_ will not faine with his deare loue,
- I must from hence: this day swift _Mercury_
- When I was laying a platforme for these walles,
- Sent from his father _Ioue_, appeard to me,
- And in his name rebukt me bitterly,
- For lingering here, neglecting _Italy_.
- _Dido._ But yet _Æneas_ will not leaue his loue.
- _Æn._ I am commaunded by immortal _Ioue_,
- To leaue this towne and passe to _Italy_,
- And therefore must of force.
- _Dido._ These words proceed not from _Æneas_ heart.
- _Æn._ Not from my heart, for I can hardly goe,
- And yet I may not stay, _Dido_ farewell.
- _Dido._ Farewell: is this the mends for _Didos_ loue?
- Doe Troians vse to quit their Louers thus?
- Fare well may _Dido_, so _Æneas_ stay,
- I dye, if my _Æneas_ say farewell.
- _Æn._ Then let me goe and neuer say farewell,
- Let me goe, farewell, I must from hence.
- _Dido._ These words are poyson to poore _Didos_ soule,
- O speake like my _Æneas_, like my loue:
- Why look'st thou toward the sea? the time hath been
- When _Didos_ beautie chaungd thine eyes to her;
- Am I lesse faire then when thou sawest me first?
- O then _Æneas_, tis for griefe of thee:
- Say thou wilt stay in _Carthage_ with my Queene,
- And _Didos_ beautie will returne againe:
- _Æneas_, say, how canst thou take thy leaue?
- Wilt thou kisse _Dido_? O thy lips haue sworne
- To stay with _Dido_: canst thou take her hand?
- Thy Hand and mine haue plighted mutuall faith,
- Therefore vnkinde _Æneas_, must thou say,
- Then let me goe, and neuer say farewell.
- _Æn._ O Queene of _Carthage_, wert thou vgly blacke,
- _Æneas_ could not choose but hold thee deare,
- Yet must he not gainsay the Gods behest.
- _Dido._ The Gods, what Gods be those that seeke my death?
- Wherein haue I offended _Iupiter_,
- That he should take _Æneas_ from mine armes?
- O no, the Gods wey not what Louers doe,
- It is _Æneas_ calles _Æneas_ hence,
- And wofull _Dido_ by these blubbred cheekes,
- By this right hand, and by our spousall rites,
- Desires _Æneas_ to remaine with her:
- _Si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam
- Dulce meum, miserere domus labentis: & istam
- Oro, si quis ad hac precibus locus, exue mentem._
- _Æn. Desine meque tuis incendere teque querelis,
- Italiam non sponte sequor._
- _Dido._ Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings
- Were vp in armes, for making thee my loue?
- How _Carthage_ did rebell, _Iarbus_ storme,
- And all the world calles me a second _Helen_,
- For being intangled by a strangers lookes:
- So thou wouldst proue as true as _Paris_ did,
- Would, as faire _Troy_ was, _Carthage_ might be sackt,
- And I be calde a second _Helena_.
- Had I a sonne by thee, the griefe were lesse,
- That I might see _Æneas_ in his face:
- Now if thou goest, what canst thou leaue behind,
- But rather will augment then ease my woe?
- _Æn._ In vaine my loue thou spendst thy fainting breath,
- If words might moue me I were ouercome.
- _Dido._ And wilt thou not be mou'd with _Didos_ words?
- Thy mother was no Goddesse periurd man,
- Nor _Dardanus_ the author of thy stocke:
- But thou art Sprung from _Scythian Caucasus_,
- And Tygers of _Hircania_ gaue thee sucke:
- Ah foolish _Dido_ to forbeare this long!
- Wast thou not wrackt vpon this _Libian_ shoare,
- And cam'st to _Dido_ like a Fisherswaine?
- Repairde not I thy ships, made thee a King,
- And all thy needie followers Noblemen?
- O Serpent that came creeping from the shoare,
- And I for pitie harbord in my bosome,
- Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting,
- And hisse at _Dido_ for preseruing thee?
- Goe goe and spare not, seeke out _Italy_,
- I hope that that which loue forbids me doe,
- The Rockes and Sea-gulfes will performe at large,
- And thou shalt perish in the billowes waies,
- To whom poore _Dido_ doth bequeath reuenge,
- I traytor, and the waues shall cast thee vp,
- Where thou and false _Achates_ first set foote:
- Which if it chaunce, Ile giue ye buriall,
- And weepe vpon your liueles carcases,
- Though thou nor he will pitie me a whit.
- Why star'st thou in my face? if thou wilt stay,
- Leape in mine armes, mine armes are open wide:
- If not, turne from me, and Ile turne from thee;
- For though thou hast the heart to say farewell,
- I haue not power to stay thee: is he gone?
- I but heele come againe, he cannot goe,
- He loues me to too well to serue me so:
- Yet he that in my sight would not relent,
- Will, being absent, be abdurate still.
- By this is he got to the water side,
- And, see the Sailers take him by the hand,
- But he shrinkes backe, and now remembring me,
- Returnes amaine: welcome, welcome my loue:
- But wheres _Æneas_? ah hees gone hees gone!
- _Anna._ What meanes my sister thus to raue and crye?
- _Dido._ O _Anna_, my _Æneas_ is abourd,
- And leauing me will saile to _Italy_.
- Once didst thou goe, and he came backe againe,
- Now bring him backe, and thou shalt be a Queene,
- And I will liue a priuate life with him.
- _Anna._ Wicked _Æneas_.
- _Dido._ Call him not wicked, sister speake him faire,
- And looke vpon him with a Mermaides eye,
- Tell him, I neuer vow'd at _Aulis_ gulfe
- The desolation of his natiue _Troy_,
- Nor sent a thousand ships vnto the walles,
- Nor euer violated faith to him:
- Request him gently (_Anna_) to returne,
- I craue but this, he stay a tide or two,
- That I may learne to beare it patiently,
- If he depart thus suddenly, I dye:
- Run _Anna_, run, stay not to answere me.
- _Anna._ I goe faire sister, heauens graunt good successe.
- _Exit Anna._
- _Enter the Nurse._
- _Nurse._ O _Dido_, your little sonne _Ascanius_
- Is gone! he lay with me last night,
- And in the morning he was stolne from me,
- I thinke some Fairies haue beguiled me.
- _Dido._ O cursed hagge and false dissembling wretch!
- That slayest me with thy harsh and hellish tale,
- Thou for some pettie guift hast let him goe,
- And I am thus deluded of my boy:
- Away with her to prison presently,
- Traytoresse too keend and cursed Sorceresse.
- _Nurse._ I know not what you meane by treason, I,
- I am as true as any one of yours. _Exeunt the Nurse._
- _Dido._ Away with her, suffer her not to speake.
- My sister comes, I like not her sad lookes.
- _Enter Anna._
- _Anna._ Before I came, _Æneas_ was abourd,
- And spying me, hoyst vp the sailes amaine:
- But I cride out, _Æneas_, false _Æneas_ stay.
- Then gan he wagge his hand, which yet held vp,
- Made me suppose he would haue heard me speake:
- Then gan they driue into the Ocean,
- Which when I viewd, I cride, _Æneas_ stay,
- _Dido_, faire _Dido_ wils _Æneas_ stay:
- Yet he whose heart of adamant or flint,
- My teares nor plaints could mollifie a whit:
- Then carelesly I rent my haire for griefe,
- Which seene to all, though he beheld me not,
- They gan to moue him to redresse my ruth,
- And stay a while to heare what I could say,
- But he clapt vnder hatches saild away.
- _Dido._ O _Anna_, _Anna_, I will follow him.
- _Anna._ How can ye goe when he hath all your fleete?
- _Dido._ Ile frame me wings of waxe like _Icarus_,
- And ore his ships will soare vnto the Sunne,
- That they may melt and I fall in his armes:
- Or els Ile make a prayer vnto the waues,
- That I may swim to him like _Tritons_ neece:
- O _Anna_, fetch _Orions_ Harpe,
- That I may tice a Dolphin to the shoare,
- And ride vpon his backe vnto my loue:
- Looke sister, looke louely _Æneas_ ships,
- See see, the billowes heaue him vp to heauen,
- And now downe falles the keeles into the deepe:
- O sister, sister, take away the Rockes,
- Theile breake his ships, O _Proteus_, _Neptune_, _Ioue_,
- Saue, saue _Æneas_, _Didos_ leefest loue!
- Now is he come on shoare safe without hurt:
- But see, _Achates_ wils him put to sea,
- And all the Sailers merrie make for ioy,
- But he remembring me shrinkes backe againe:
- See where he comes, welcome, welcome my loue.
- _Anna._ Ah sister, leaue these idle fantasies,
- Sweet sister cease, remember who you are.
- _Dido. Dido_ I am, vnlesse I be deceiu'd,
- And must I raue thus for a renegate?
- Must I make ships for him to saile away?
- Nothing can beare me to him but a ship,
- And he hath all thy fleete, what shall I doe?
- But dye in furie of this ouersight?
- I, I must be the murderer of my selfe:
- No but I am not, yet I will be straight.
- _Anna_ be glad, now haue I found a meane
- To rid me from these thoughts of Lunacie:
- Not farre from hence there is a woman famoused for arts,
- Daughter vnto the Nimphs _Hesperides_,
- Who wild me sacrifice his ticing relliques:
- Goe _Anna_, bid my seruants bring me fire. _Exit Anna._
- _Enter Iarbus._
- _Iar._ How long will _Dido_ mourne a strangers flight,
- That hath dishonord her and _Carthage_ both?
- How long shall I with griefe consume my daies,
- And reape no guerdon for my truest loue?
- _Dido._ _Iarbus_, talk not of _Æneas_, let him goe,
- Lay to thy hands and helpe me make a fire,
- That shall consume all that this stranger left,
- For I entend a priuate Sacrifize,
- To cure my minde that melts for vnkind loue.
- _Iar._ But afterwards will _Dido_ graunt me loue?
- _Dido._ I, I, _Iarbus_, after this is done,
- None in the world shall have my loue but thou:
- So, leaue me now, let none approach this place. _Exit Iarbus._
- Now _Dido_, with these reliques burne thy selfe,
- And make _Æneas_ famous through the world,
- For periurie and slaughter of a Queene:
- Here lye the Sword that in the darksome Caue
- He drew, and swore by to be true to me,
- Thou shalt burne first, thy crime is worse then his:
- Here lye the garment which I cloath'd him in,
- When first he came on shoare, perish thou to:
- These letters, lines, and periurd papers all,
- Shall burne to cinders in this prectious flame.
- And now ye Gods that guide the starrie frame,
- And order all things at your high dispose;
- Graunt, though the traytors land in _Italy_,
- They may be still tormented with vnrest,
- And from mine ashes let a Conquerour rise,
- That may reuenge this treason to a Queene,
- By plowing vp his Countries with the Sword:
- Betwixt this land and that be neuer league,
- _Littora littoribus contraria, fluctibus undas
- Impresor: arma armis: pugnent ipsig nepotes_:
- Liue false _Æneas_, truest _Dido_ dyes,
- _Sic sic inuat ire sub umbras_.
- _Enter Anna._
- _Anna._ O helpe _Iarbus_, _Dido_ in these flames
- Hath burnt her selfe, aye me, vnhappie me!
- _Enter Iarbus running._
- _Iar._ Cursed _Iarbus_, dye to expiate
- The griefe that tires vpon thine inward soule,
- _Dido_ I come to thee, aye me _Æneas_.
- _Anna._ What can my teares or cryes preuaile me now?
- _Dido_ is dead, _Iarbus_ slaine, _Iarbus_ my deare loue,
- O sweet _Iarbus_, _Annas_ sole delight,
- What fatall destinie enuies me thus,
- To see my sweet _Iarbus_ slay himselfe?
- But _Anna_ now shall honor thee in death,
- And mixe her bloud with thine, this shall I doe,
- That Gods and men may pitie this my death,
- And rue our ends senceles of life or breath;
- Now sweet _Iarbus_ stay, I come to thee.
- _FINIS._
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- by Christopher Marlowe
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