Enter[461]Æneas, Achates, Ascanius,and others.Æn.Where am I now? these should be Carthage-walls.Ach.Why stands my sweet Æneas thus amaz'd?Æn.O my Achates, Theban Niobe,Who for her sons' death wept out life and breath,And, dry with grief, was turned into a stone,Had not such passions in her head as I!Methinks,That town there should be Troy, yon Ida's hill,There Xanthus' stream, because here's Priamus;And when I know it is not, then I die.10Ach.And in this humour is Achates too;I cannot choose but fall upon my knees,And kiss his hand. O, where is Hecuba?Here she was wont to sit; but, saving air,Is nothing here; and what is this but stone?[462]Æn.O, yet this stone doth make Æneas weep!And would my prayers (as Pygmalion's did)Could give it life, that under his condùctWe might sail back to Troy, and be revengedOn these hard-hearted Grecians which rejoice20That nothing now is left of Priamus!O, Priamus is left, and this is he!Come, come aboard; pursue the hateful Greeks.Ach.What means Æneas?Æn.Achates, though mine eyes say this is stone,Yet thinks my mind that this is Priamus;And when my grievèd heart sighs and says no,Then would it leap out to give Priam life.—O, were I not at all, so thou mightst be;—Achates, see, King Priam wags his hand!30He is alive; Troy is not overcome!Ach.Thy mind, Æneas, that would have it so,Deludes thy eye-sight; Priamus is dead.Æn.Ah, Troy is sack'd, and Priamus is dead!And why should poor Æneas be alive?Asc.Sweet father, leave to weep; this is not he,For, were it Priam, he would smile on me.Ach.Æneas, see, here come the citizens:Leave to lament, lest they laugh at our fears.[463]EnterCloanthus, Sergestus, Ilioneus,and others.Æn.Lords of this town, or whatsoever style40Belongs unto your name, vouchsafe of ruthTo tell us who inhabits this fair town,What kind of people, and who governs them;For we are strangers driven on this shore,And scarcely know within what clime we are.Ili.I hear Æneas' voice, but see him not,[464]For none of these can be our general.Ach.Like Ilioneus speaks this nobleman,But Ilioneus goes not in such robes.Serg.You are Achates, or I [am] deceiv'd.50Ach.Æneas, see, Sergestus, or his ghost!Ili.He names[465]Æneas; let us kiss his feet.Clo.It is our captain; see, Ascanius!Serg.Live long Æneas and Ascanius!Æn.Achates, speak, for I am overjoyed.Ach.O Ilioneus, art thou yet alive?Ili.Blest be the time I see Achates' face!Clo.Why turns Æneas from his trusty friends?Æn.Sergestus, Ilioneus, and the rest,Your sight amazed me. O, what destinies60Have brought my sweet companions in such plight?O, tell me, for I long to be resolved!Ili.Lovely Æneas, these are Carthage-walls;And here Queen Dido wears th' imperial crown,Who for Troy's sake hath entertained us all,And clad us in these wealthy robes we wear.Oft hath she asked us under whom we served;And, when we told her, she would weep for grief,Thinking the sea had swallowed up thy ships;And, now she sees thee, how will she rejoice!70Serg.See, where her servitors pass through the hall,[466]Bearing a banquet: Dido is not far.Ili.Look, where she comes; Æneas, view[467]her well.Æn.Well may I view her; but she sees not me.EnterDido, Anna, Iarbas,and train.Dido.What stranger art thou, that dost eye me thus?Æn.Sometime I was a Trojan, mighty queen;But Troy is not:—what shall I say I am?Ili.Renowmèd Dido, 'tis our general,Warlike Æneas.Dido.Warlike Æneas, and in these base robes!80Go fetch the garment which Sichæus ware.—[Exit anAttendant,who brings in the garment,whichÆneasputs on.Brave prince, welcome to Carthage and to me,Both happy that Æneas is our guest.Sit in this chair, and banquet with a queen:Æneas is Æneas, were he cladIn weeds as bad as ever Irus ware.Æn.This is no seat for one that's comfortless:May it please your grace to let Æneas wait;For though my birth be great, my fortune's mean,Too mean to be companion to a queen.90Dido.Thy fortune may be greater than thy birth:Sit down, Æneas, sit in Dido's place;And, if this be thy son, as I suppose,Here let him sit.—Be merry, lovely child.Æn.This place beseems me not; O, pardon me!Dido.I'll have it so; Æneas, be content.Asc.Madam, you shall be my mother.Dido.And so I will, sweet child.—Be merry, man:Here's to thy better fortune and good stars. [Drinks.Æn.In all humility, I thank your grace.100Dido.Remember who thou art; speak like thyself:Humility belongs to common grooms.Æn.And who so miserable as Æneas is?Dido.Lies it in Dido's hands to make thee blest?Then be assur'd thou art not miserable.Æn.O Priamus, O Troy, O Hecuba!Dido.May I entreat thee to discourse at large,And truly too, how Troy was overcome?For many tales go of that city's fall,And scarcely do agree upon one point:110Some say Antenor did betray the town;Others report 'twas Sinon's perjury;But all in this, that Troy is overcome,And Priam dead; yet how, we hear no news.Æn.A woful tale bids Dido to unfold,Whose memory, like pale Death's stony mace,Beats forth my senses from this troubled soul,And makes Æneas sink at Dido's feet.Dido.What, faints Æneas to remember Troy,In whose defence he fought so valiantly?120Look up, and speak.Æn.Then speak Æneas, with Achilles' tongue:And, Dido, and you Carthaginian peers,Hear me; but yet with Myrmidons' harsh ears,Daily inured to broils and massacres,Lest you be mov'd too much with my sad tale.The Grecian soldiers, tir'd with ten years' war,Began to cry, "Let us unto our ships,Troy is invincible, why stay we here?"With whose outcries Atrides being appalled130Summon'd the captains to his princely tent;Who, looking on the scars we Trojans gave,Seeing the number of their men decreas'd,And the remainder weak and out of heart,Gave up their voices to dislodge the camp,And so in troops all marched to Tenedos;[468]Where when they came, Ulysses on the sandAssayed with honey words to turn them back;And, as he spoke, to further his intent,The winds did drive huge billows to the shore,140And heaven was darkened with tempestuous clouds;Then he alleg'd the gods would have them stay,And prophesied Troy should be overcome:And therewithal he call'd false Sinon forth,A man compact of craft and perjury,Whose ticing tongue was made of Hermes' pipe,To force an hundred watchful eyes to sleep;And him, Epeus having made the horse,With sacrificing wreaths upon his head,Ulysses sent to our unhappy town;150Who, grovelling in the mire of Xanthus' banks,His hands bound at his back, and both his eyesTurned up to heaven, as one resolved to die,Our Phrygian shepherd[s] haled within the gates,And brought unto the court of Priamus;To whom he used action so pitiful,Looks so remorseful, vows so forcible,As therewithal the old man overcome,Kissed him, embraced him, and unloosed his bands;And then—O Dido, pardon me!160Dido.Nay, leave not here; resolve me of the rest.Æn.O, th' enchanting words of that base slaveMade him to think Epeus' pine-tree horseA sacrifice t' appease Minerva's wrath!The rather, for that one Laocoon,Breaking a spear upon his hollow breast,Was with two wingèd serpents stung to death.Whereat aghast, we were commanded straightWith reverence to draw it into Troy:In which unhappy work was I employed;170These hands did help to hale it to the gates,Through which it could not enter, 'twas so huge,—O, had it never enter'd, Troy had stood!But Priamus, impatient of delay,Enforced a wide breach in that rampired wallWhich thousand battering-rams could never pierce,And so came in this fatal instrument:At whose accursèd feet, as overjoyed,We banqueted, till, overcome with wine,Some surfeited, and others soundly slept.180Which Sinon viewing, caus'd the Greekish spiesTo haste to Tenedos, and tell the camp:Then he unlocked the horse; and suddenly,From out his entrails, Neoptolemus,Setting his spear upon the ground, leapt forth,And, after him, a thousand Grecians more,In whose stern faces shined the quenchless[469]fireThat after burnt the pride of Asia.By this, the camp was come unto the walls,And through the breach did march into the streets,190Where, meeting with the rest; "Kill, kill!" they cried.Frighted with this confusèd noise, I rose,And, looking from a turret, might beholdYoung infants swimming in their parents' blood,Headless carcases pilèd up in heaps,Virgins half-dead, dragged by their golden hair,And with main force flung on a ring[470]of pikes,Old men with swords thrust through their agèd sides,Kneeling for mercy to a Greekish lad,200Who with steel pole-axes dash'd out their brains.Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword,And thinking to go down, came Hector's ghost,[471]With ashy visage, blueish sulphur eyes,His arms torn from his shoulders, and his breastFurrowed with wounds, and, that which made me weep,Thongs at his heels, by which Achilles' horseDrew him in triumph through the Greekish camp,Burst from the earth, crying "Æneas, fly!Troy is a-fire, the Grecians have the town!"210Dido.O Hector, who weeps not to hear thy name?Æn.Yet flung I forth, and, desperate of my life,Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this swordSent many of their savage ghosts to hell.At last came Pyrrhus, fell and full of ire,His harness[472]dropping blood, and on his spearThe mangled head of Priam's youngest son;And, after him, his band of Myrmidons,With balls of wild-fire in their murdering paws,Which made the funeral flame that burnt fair Troy;220All which hemmed me about, crying, "This is he!"Dido.Ah, how could poor Æneas scape their hands?Æn.My mother Venus, jealous of my health,Convey'd me from their crookèd nets and bands;So I escaped the furious Pyrrhus' wrath:Who then ran to the palace of the king,And at Jove's altar finding Priamus,About whose withered neck hung Hecuba,Folding his hand in hers, and jointly bothBeating their breasts, and falling on the ground,He, with his falchion's point raised up at once,230And with Megæra's eyes, star'd in their face,Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance:To whom the agèd king thus, trembling, spoke;"Achilles' son, remember what I was,Father of fifty sons, but they are slain;Lord of my fortune, but my fortune's turned:King of this city, but my Troy is fired;And now am neither father, lord, or king:Yet who so wretched but desires to live?O, let me live, great Neoptolemus!"240Not moved at all, but smiling at his tears,This butcher, whilst his hands were yet held up,Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands.Dido.O, end, Æneas! I can hear no more.Æn.At which the frantic queen leaped on his face,And in his eyelids hanging by the nails,A little while prolonged her husband's life.At last, the soldiers pull'd her by the heels,And swung her howling in the empty air,Which sent an echo to the wounded king:250Whereat he lifted up his bed-rid limbs,And would have grappled with Achilles' son,Forgetting both his want of strength and hands;Which he disdaining, whisk'd his sword about,And with the wind thereof the king fell down;[473]Then from the navel to the throat at onceHe ripp'd old Priam; at whose latter gaspJove's marble statue gan to bend the brow,As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act.Yet he, undaunted, took his father's flag,260And dipped it in the old king's chill-cold blood,And then in triumph ran into the streets,Through which he could not pass for slaughter'd men;So, leaning on his sword, he stood stone-still,Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt.By this, I got my father on my back,This young boy in mine arms, and by the handLed fair Creusa, my belovèd wife;When thou, Achates, with thy sword mad'st way,And we were round environed with the Greeks:270O, there I lost my wife! and, had not weFought manfully, I had not told this tale.Yet manhood would not serve; of force we fled;And, as we went unto our ships, thou know'stWe saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets,Whom Ajax ravished in Diana's fane,[474]Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent;Whom I took up to bear unto our ships;But suddenly the Grecians followed us,And I, alas, was forced to let her lie!280Then got we to our ships, and, being aboard,Polyxena cried out, "Æneas, stay!The Greeks pursue me; stay, and take me in!"Moved with her voice, I leap'd into the sea,Thinking to bear her on my back aboard,For all our ships were launched into the deep,And, as I swom, she, standing on the shore,Was by the cruel Myrmidons surprised,And, after that, by[475]Pyrrhus sacrificed.Dido.I die with melting ruth; Æneas, leave.[476]290Anna.O, what became of agèd Hecuba?Iar.How got Æneas to the fleet again?Dido.But how scaped Helen, she that caus'd this war?Æn.Achates, speak; sorrow hath tir'd me quite.Ach.What happen'd to the queen we cannot show;We hear they led her captive into Greece:As for Æneas, he swom quickly back;And Helena betrayed Deiphobus,Her lover, after Alexander died,And so was reconciled to Menelaus.300Dido.O, had that ticing strumpet ne'er been born!—Trojan, thy ruthful tale hath made me sad:Come, let us think upon some pleasing sport,To rid me from these melancholy thoughts.[Exeunt all exceptAscanius,whomVenus,entering withCupidat another door, takes by the sleeve as he is going off.Ven.Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting-maid:I'll give thee sugar-almonds, sweet conserves,A silver girdle, and a golden purse,And this young prince shall be thy playfellow.Asc.Are you Queen Dido's son?Cup.I; and my mother gave me this fine bow.310Asc.Shall I have such a quiver and a bow?Ven.Such bow, such quiver, and such golden shafts,Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius.For Dido's sake I take thee in my arms,And stick these spangled feathers in thy hat:Eat comfits in mine arms, and I will sing. [Sings.Now is he fast asleep; and in his grove,[477]Amongst green brakes, I'll lay Ascanius,And strew him with sweet-smelling violets,Blushing roses, purple hyacinth:320These milk-white doves shall be his centronels,[478]Who, if that any seek to do him hurt,Will quickly fly to Cytherea's[479]fist.Now, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' shape,And go to Dido, who, instead of him,Will set thee on her lap, and play with thee:Then touch her white breast with this arrow-head,That she may dote upon Æneas' love,And by that means repair his broken ships,Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts,330And he, at last, depart to Italy,Or else in Carthage make his kingly throne.Cup.I will, fair mother; and so play my partAs every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart. [Exit.Ven.Sleep, my sweet nephew,[480]in these cooling shades,Free from the murmur of these running streams,The cry of beasts, the rattling of the winds,Or whisking of these leaves: all shall be still,And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep,Till I return, and take thee hence again.340[Exit.
Enter[461]Æneas, Achates, Ascanius,and others.
Æn.Where am I now? these should be Carthage-walls.
Ach.Why stands my sweet Æneas thus amaz'd?
Æn.O my Achates, Theban Niobe,Who for her sons' death wept out life and breath,And, dry with grief, was turned into a stone,Had not such passions in her head as I!Methinks,That town there should be Troy, yon Ida's hill,There Xanthus' stream, because here's Priamus;And when I know it is not, then I die.10
Ach.And in this humour is Achates too;I cannot choose but fall upon my knees,And kiss his hand. O, where is Hecuba?Here she was wont to sit; but, saving air,Is nothing here; and what is this but stone?[462]
Æn.O, yet this stone doth make Æneas weep!And would my prayers (as Pygmalion's did)Could give it life, that under his condùctWe might sail back to Troy, and be revengedOn these hard-hearted Grecians which rejoice20That nothing now is left of Priamus!O, Priamus is left, and this is he!Come, come aboard; pursue the hateful Greeks.
Ach.What means Æneas?
Æn.Achates, though mine eyes say this is stone,Yet thinks my mind that this is Priamus;And when my grievèd heart sighs and says no,Then would it leap out to give Priam life.—O, were I not at all, so thou mightst be;—Achates, see, King Priam wags his hand!30He is alive; Troy is not overcome!
Ach.Thy mind, Æneas, that would have it so,Deludes thy eye-sight; Priamus is dead.
Æn.Ah, Troy is sack'd, and Priamus is dead!And why should poor Æneas be alive?
Asc.Sweet father, leave to weep; this is not he,For, were it Priam, he would smile on me.
Ach.Æneas, see, here come the citizens:Leave to lament, lest they laugh at our fears.[463]
EnterCloanthus, Sergestus, Ilioneus,and others.
Æn.Lords of this town, or whatsoever style40Belongs unto your name, vouchsafe of ruthTo tell us who inhabits this fair town,What kind of people, and who governs them;For we are strangers driven on this shore,And scarcely know within what clime we are.
Ili.I hear Æneas' voice, but see him not,[464]For none of these can be our general.
Ach.Like Ilioneus speaks this nobleman,But Ilioneus goes not in such robes.
Serg.You are Achates, or I [am] deceiv'd.50
Ach.Æneas, see, Sergestus, or his ghost!
Ili.He names[465]Æneas; let us kiss his feet.
Clo.It is our captain; see, Ascanius!
Serg.Live long Æneas and Ascanius!
Æn.Achates, speak, for I am overjoyed.
Ach.O Ilioneus, art thou yet alive?
Ili.Blest be the time I see Achates' face!
Clo.Why turns Æneas from his trusty friends?
Æn.Sergestus, Ilioneus, and the rest,Your sight amazed me. O, what destinies60Have brought my sweet companions in such plight?O, tell me, for I long to be resolved!
Ili.Lovely Æneas, these are Carthage-walls;And here Queen Dido wears th' imperial crown,Who for Troy's sake hath entertained us all,And clad us in these wealthy robes we wear.Oft hath she asked us under whom we served;And, when we told her, she would weep for grief,Thinking the sea had swallowed up thy ships;And, now she sees thee, how will she rejoice!70
Serg.See, where her servitors pass through the hall,[466]Bearing a banquet: Dido is not far.
Ili.Look, where she comes; Æneas, view[467]her well.
Æn.Well may I view her; but she sees not me.
EnterDido, Anna, Iarbas,and train.
Dido.What stranger art thou, that dost eye me thus?
Æn.Sometime I was a Trojan, mighty queen;But Troy is not:—what shall I say I am?
Ili.Renowmèd Dido, 'tis our general,Warlike Æneas.
Dido.Warlike Æneas, and in these base robes!80Go fetch the garment which Sichæus ware.—[Exit anAttendant,who brings in the garment,whichÆneasputs on.Brave prince, welcome to Carthage and to me,Both happy that Æneas is our guest.Sit in this chair, and banquet with a queen:Æneas is Æneas, were he cladIn weeds as bad as ever Irus ware.
Æn.This is no seat for one that's comfortless:May it please your grace to let Æneas wait;For though my birth be great, my fortune's mean,Too mean to be companion to a queen.90
Dido.Thy fortune may be greater than thy birth:Sit down, Æneas, sit in Dido's place;And, if this be thy son, as I suppose,Here let him sit.—Be merry, lovely child.
Æn.This place beseems me not; O, pardon me!
Dido.I'll have it so; Æneas, be content.
Asc.Madam, you shall be my mother.
Dido.And so I will, sweet child.—Be merry, man:Here's to thy better fortune and good stars. [Drinks.
Æn.In all humility, I thank your grace.100
Dido.Remember who thou art; speak like thyself:Humility belongs to common grooms.
Æn.And who so miserable as Æneas is?
Dido.Lies it in Dido's hands to make thee blest?Then be assur'd thou art not miserable.
Æn.O Priamus, O Troy, O Hecuba!
Dido.May I entreat thee to discourse at large,And truly too, how Troy was overcome?For many tales go of that city's fall,And scarcely do agree upon one point:110Some say Antenor did betray the town;Others report 'twas Sinon's perjury;But all in this, that Troy is overcome,And Priam dead; yet how, we hear no news.
Æn.A woful tale bids Dido to unfold,Whose memory, like pale Death's stony mace,Beats forth my senses from this troubled soul,And makes Æneas sink at Dido's feet.
Dido.What, faints Æneas to remember Troy,In whose defence he fought so valiantly?120Look up, and speak.
Æn.Then speak Æneas, with Achilles' tongue:And, Dido, and you Carthaginian peers,Hear me; but yet with Myrmidons' harsh ears,Daily inured to broils and massacres,Lest you be mov'd too much with my sad tale.The Grecian soldiers, tir'd with ten years' war,Began to cry, "Let us unto our ships,Troy is invincible, why stay we here?"With whose outcries Atrides being appalled130Summon'd the captains to his princely tent;Who, looking on the scars we Trojans gave,Seeing the number of their men decreas'd,And the remainder weak and out of heart,Gave up their voices to dislodge the camp,And so in troops all marched to Tenedos;[468]Where when they came, Ulysses on the sandAssayed with honey words to turn them back;And, as he spoke, to further his intent,The winds did drive huge billows to the shore,140And heaven was darkened with tempestuous clouds;Then he alleg'd the gods would have them stay,And prophesied Troy should be overcome:And therewithal he call'd false Sinon forth,A man compact of craft and perjury,Whose ticing tongue was made of Hermes' pipe,To force an hundred watchful eyes to sleep;And him, Epeus having made the horse,With sacrificing wreaths upon his head,Ulysses sent to our unhappy town;150Who, grovelling in the mire of Xanthus' banks,His hands bound at his back, and both his eyesTurned up to heaven, as one resolved to die,Our Phrygian shepherd[s] haled within the gates,And brought unto the court of Priamus;To whom he used action so pitiful,Looks so remorseful, vows so forcible,As therewithal the old man overcome,Kissed him, embraced him, and unloosed his bands;And then—O Dido, pardon me!160
Dido.Nay, leave not here; resolve me of the rest.
Æn.O, th' enchanting words of that base slaveMade him to think Epeus' pine-tree horseA sacrifice t' appease Minerva's wrath!The rather, for that one Laocoon,Breaking a spear upon his hollow breast,Was with two wingèd serpents stung to death.Whereat aghast, we were commanded straightWith reverence to draw it into Troy:In which unhappy work was I employed;170These hands did help to hale it to the gates,Through which it could not enter, 'twas so huge,—O, had it never enter'd, Troy had stood!But Priamus, impatient of delay,Enforced a wide breach in that rampired wallWhich thousand battering-rams could never pierce,And so came in this fatal instrument:At whose accursèd feet, as overjoyed,We banqueted, till, overcome with wine,Some surfeited, and others soundly slept.180Which Sinon viewing, caus'd the Greekish spiesTo haste to Tenedos, and tell the camp:Then he unlocked the horse; and suddenly,From out his entrails, Neoptolemus,Setting his spear upon the ground, leapt forth,And, after him, a thousand Grecians more,In whose stern faces shined the quenchless[469]fireThat after burnt the pride of Asia.By this, the camp was come unto the walls,And through the breach did march into the streets,190Where, meeting with the rest; "Kill, kill!" they cried.Frighted with this confusèd noise, I rose,And, looking from a turret, might beholdYoung infants swimming in their parents' blood,Headless carcases pilèd up in heaps,Virgins half-dead, dragged by their golden hair,And with main force flung on a ring[470]of pikes,Old men with swords thrust through their agèd sides,Kneeling for mercy to a Greekish lad,200Who with steel pole-axes dash'd out their brains.Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword,And thinking to go down, came Hector's ghost,[471]With ashy visage, blueish sulphur eyes,His arms torn from his shoulders, and his breastFurrowed with wounds, and, that which made me weep,Thongs at his heels, by which Achilles' horseDrew him in triumph through the Greekish camp,Burst from the earth, crying "Æneas, fly!Troy is a-fire, the Grecians have the town!"210
Dido.O Hector, who weeps not to hear thy name?
Æn.Yet flung I forth, and, desperate of my life,Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this swordSent many of their savage ghosts to hell.At last came Pyrrhus, fell and full of ire,His harness[472]dropping blood, and on his spearThe mangled head of Priam's youngest son;And, after him, his band of Myrmidons,With balls of wild-fire in their murdering paws,Which made the funeral flame that burnt fair Troy;220All which hemmed me about, crying, "This is he!"
Dido.Ah, how could poor Æneas scape their hands?
Æn.My mother Venus, jealous of my health,Convey'd me from their crookèd nets and bands;So I escaped the furious Pyrrhus' wrath:Who then ran to the palace of the king,And at Jove's altar finding Priamus,About whose withered neck hung Hecuba,Folding his hand in hers, and jointly bothBeating their breasts, and falling on the ground,He, with his falchion's point raised up at once,230And with Megæra's eyes, star'd in their face,Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance:To whom the agèd king thus, trembling, spoke;"Achilles' son, remember what I was,Father of fifty sons, but they are slain;Lord of my fortune, but my fortune's turned:King of this city, but my Troy is fired;And now am neither father, lord, or king:Yet who so wretched but desires to live?O, let me live, great Neoptolemus!"240Not moved at all, but smiling at his tears,This butcher, whilst his hands were yet held up,Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands.
Dido.O, end, Æneas! I can hear no more.
Æn.At which the frantic queen leaped on his face,And in his eyelids hanging by the nails,A little while prolonged her husband's life.At last, the soldiers pull'd her by the heels,And swung her howling in the empty air,Which sent an echo to the wounded king:250Whereat he lifted up his bed-rid limbs,And would have grappled with Achilles' son,Forgetting both his want of strength and hands;Which he disdaining, whisk'd his sword about,And with the wind thereof the king fell down;[473]Then from the navel to the throat at onceHe ripp'd old Priam; at whose latter gaspJove's marble statue gan to bend the brow,As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act.Yet he, undaunted, took his father's flag,260And dipped it in the old king's chill-cold blood,And then in triumph ran into the streets,Through which he could not pass for slaughter'd men;So, leaning on his sword, he stood stone-still,Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt.By this, I got my father on my back,This young boy in mine arms, and by the handLed fair Creusa, my belovèd wife;When thou, Achates, with thy sword mad'st way,And we were round environed with the Greeks:270O, there I lost my wife! and, had not weFought manfully, I had not told this tale.Yet manhood would not serve; of force we fled;And, as we went unto our ships, thou know'stWe saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets,Whom Ajax ravished in Diana's fane,[474]Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent;Whom I took up to bear unto our ships;But suddenly the Grecians followed us,And I, alas, was forced to let her lie!280Then got we to our ships, and, being aboard,Polyxena cried out, "Æneas, stay!The Greeks pursue me; stay, and take me in!"Moved with her voice, I leap'd into the sea,Thinking to bear her on my back aboard,For all our ships were launched into the deep,And, as I swom, she, standing on the shore,Was by the cruel Myrmidons surprised,And, after that, by[475]Pyrrhus sacrificed.
Dido.I die with melting ruth; Æneas, leave.[476]290
Anna.O, what became of agèd Hecuba?
Iar.How got Æneas to the fleet again?
Dido.But how scaped Helen, she that caus'd this war?
Æn.Achates, speak; sorrow hath tir'd me quite.
Ach.What happen'd to the queen we cannot show;We hear they led her captive into Greece:As for Æneas, he swom quickly back;And Helena betrayed Deiphobus,Her lover, after Alexander died,And so was reconciled to Menelaus.300
Dido.O, had that ticing strumpet ne'er been born!—Trojan, thy ruthful tale hath made me sad:Come, let us think upon some pleasing sport,To rid me from these melancholy thoughts.[Exeunt all exceptAscanius,whomVenus,entering withCupidat another door, takes by the sleeve as he is going off.
Ven.Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting-maid:I'll give thee sugar-almonds, sweet conserves,A silver girdle, and a golden purse,And this young prince shall be thy playfellow.
Asc.Are you Queen Dido's son?
Cup.I; and my mother gave me this fine bow.310
Asc.Shall I have such a quiver and a bow?
Ven.Such bow, such quiver, and such golden shafts,Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius.For Dido's sake I take thee in my arms,And stick these spangled feathers in thy hat:Eat comfits in mine arms, and I will sing. [Sings.Now is he fast asleep; and in his grove,[477]Amongst green brakes, I'll lay Ascanius,And strew him with sweet-smelling violets,Blushing roses, purple hyacinth:320These milk-white doves shall be his centronels,[478]Who, if that any seek to do him hurt,Will quickly fly to Cytherea's[479]fist.Now, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' shape,And go to Dido, who, instead of him,Will set thee on her lap, and play with thee:Then touch her white breast with this arrow-head,That she may dote upon Æneas' love,And by that means repair his broken ships,Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts,330And he, at last, depart to Italy,Or else in Carthage make his kingly throne.
Cup.I will, fair mother; and so play my partAs every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart. [Exit.
Ven.Sleep, my sweet nephew,[480]in these cooling shades,Free from the murmur of these running streams,The cry of beasts, the rattling of the winds,Or whisking of these leaves: all shall be still,And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep,Till I return, and take thee hence again.340[Exit.
Enter[481]CupidasAscanius.Cup.Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queenTo be enamour'd of thy brother's looks:Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve,Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son;And when she strokes thee softly on the head,Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.EnterDido, Anna,andIarbas.Iar.How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee?'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love,But that I may enjoy what I desire:That love is childish which consists in words.10Dido.Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my wooers,—And yet have I had many mightier kings,—Hast had the greatest favours I could give.I fear me, Dido hath been counted lightIn being too familiar with Iarbas;Albeit the gods do know, no wanton thoughtHad ever residence in Dido's breast.Iar.But Dido is the favour I request.Dido.Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine.Anna.Look, sister, how Æneas' little son20Plays with your garments and embraceth you.Cup.No, Dido will not take me in her arms;I shall not be her son, she loves me not.Dido.Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son:Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing. [Cupidsings.No more, my child; now talk another while,And tell me where learn'dst thou this pretty song.Cup.My cousin Helen taught it me in Troy.Dido.How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles!Cup.Will Dido let me hang about her neck?30Dido.I, wag; and give thee leave to kiss her too.Cup.What will you give me now? I'll have this fan.Dido.Take it, Ascanius, for thy father's sake.Iar.Come, Dido, leave Ascanius; let us walk.Dido.Go thou away; Ascanius shall stay.Iar.Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me?Dido.O, stay, Iarbas, and I'll go with thee!Cup.An if my mother go, I'll follow her.Dido.Why stay'st thou here? thou art no love of mine.Iar.Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee!40Dido.No; live, Iarbas: What hast thou deserved,That I should say thou art no love of mine?Something thou hast deserved.—Away, I say!Depart from Carthage; come not in my sight.Iar.Am I not king of rich Gætulia?Dido.Iarbas, pardon me, and stay a while.Cup.Mother, look here.Dido.What tell'st thou me of rich Gætulia?Am not I queen of Libya? then depart.Iar.I go to feed the humour of my love,50Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.Dido.Iarbas!Iar.Doth Dido call me back?Dido.No; but I charge thee never look on me.Iar.Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die. [Exit.Anna.Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go?Dido.Because his loathsome sight offends mine eye,And in my thoughts is shrined another love.O Anna, didst thou know how sweet love were,Full soon wouldst thou abjure this single life!Anna.Poor soul, I know too well the sour of love:60O, that Iarbas could but fancy me! [Aside.Dido.Is not Æneas fair and beautiful?Anna.Yes; and Iarbas foul and favourless.Dido.Is he not eloquent in all his speech?Anna.Yes; and Iarbas rude and rustical.Dido.Name not Iarbas: but, sweet Anna, say,Is not Æneas worthy Dido's love?Anna.O sister, were you empress of the world,Æneas well deserves to be your love!So lovely is he, that, where'er he goes,70The people swarm to gaze him in the face.Dido.But tell them, none shall gaze on him but I,Lest their gross eye-beams taint my lover's cheeks.Anna, good sister Anna, go for him,Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean away.Anna.Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love?Dido.Yet must I hear that loathsome name again?Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him. [ExitAnna.Cup.You shall not hurt my father when he comes.Dido.No; for thy sake I'll love thy father well.—80O dull-conceited Dido, that till nowDidst never think Æneas beautiful!But now, for quittance of this oversight,I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair;His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass;His lips an altar, where I'll offer up[482]As many kisses as the sea hath sands;Instead of music I will hear him speak;His looks shall be my only library;And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury,90In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealthThan twenty thousand Indias can afford.O, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leaveTo be more modest than her thoughts admit,Lest I be made a wonder to the world.EnterÆneas, Achates, Sergestus, Ilioneus,andCloanthus.Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord?Ach.That will Æneas show your majesty.Dido.Æneas, art thou there?Æn.I understand your highness sent for me.Dido.No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in sooth,100In what might Dido highly pleasure thee.Æn.So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands,As, without blushing, I can ask no more:Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships unrigg'd,My sails all rent in sunder with the wind,My oars broken, and my tackling lost,Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves;Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet;Our masts the furious winds struck overboard:Which piteous wants if Dido will supply,110We will account her author of our lives.Dido.Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships,Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me,And let Achates sail to Italy:I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled[483]gold,Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;[484]Oars of massy ivory, full of holes,Through which the water shall delight to play;Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks,Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves;120The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang,Hollow pyramides of silver plate;The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wroughtThe wars of Troy,—but not Troy's overthrow;For ballace,[485]empty Dido's treasury:Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here.Achates, thou shalt be so seemly[486]clad,As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships,And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs,Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth130Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck,So that Æneas may but stay with me.Æn.Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay?Dido.To war against my bordering enemies.Æneas, think not Dido is in love;For, if that any man could conquer me,I had been wedded ere Æneas came:See, where the pictures of my suitors hang;And are not these as fair as fair may be?Ach.I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd.140Æn.[487]I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen.Ili.This man and I were at Olympia's[488]games,Serg.I know this face; he is a Persian born:I travell'd with him to Ætolia.Cloan.And I in Athens with this gentleman,Unless I be deceived, disputed once.Dido.But speak, Æneas; know you none of these?Æn.No, madam; but it seems that these are kings.Dido.All these, and others which I never saw,Have been most urgent suitors for my love;150Some came in person, others sent their legates,Yet none obtained me: I am free from all;And yet, God knows, entangled unto one.This was an orator, and thought by wordsTo compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd:And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild;But his fantastic humours pleased not me:This was Alcion, a musician;But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go:This was the wealthy king of Thessaly;160But I had gold enough, and cast him off:This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince;But weapons gree not with my tender years:The rest are such as all the world well knows:Yet now[489]I swear, by heaven and him I love,I was as far from love as they from hate.Æn.O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves!Dido.Then never say that thou art miserable,Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love,Yet boast not of it, for I love thee not,—170And yet I hate thee not.—O, if I speak,I shall betray myself! [Aside.]—Æneas, come:[490]We too will go a-hunting in the woods;But not so much for thee,—thou art but one,—As for Achates and his followers.[Exeunt.
Enter[481]CupidasAscanius.
Cup.Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queenTo be enamour'd of thy brother's looks:Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve,Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son;And when she strokes thee softly on the head,Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.
EnterDido, Anna,andIarbas.
Iar.How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee?'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love,But that I may enjoy what I desire:That love is childish which consists in words.10
Dido.Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my wooers,—And yet have I had many mightier kings,—Hast had the greatest favours I could give.I fear me, Dido hath been counted lightIn being too familiar with Iarbas;Albeit the gods do know, no wanton thoughtHad ever residence in Dido's breast.
Iar.But Dido is the favour I request.
Dido.Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine.
Anna.Look, sister, how Æneas' little son20Plays with your garments and embraceth you.
Cup.No, Dido will not take me in her arms;I shall not be her son, she loves me not.
Dido.Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son:Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing. [Cupidsings.No more, my child; now talk another while,And tell me where learn'dst thou this pretty song.
Cup.My cousin Helen taught it me in Troy.
Dido.How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles!
Cup.Will Dido let me hang about her neck?30
Dido.I, wag; and give thee leave to kiss her too.
Cup.What will you give me now? I'll have this fan.
Dido.Take it, Ascanius, for thy father's sake.
Iar.Come, Dido, leave Ascanius; let us walk.
Dido.Go thou away; Ascanius shall stay.
Iar.Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me?
Dido.O, stay, Iarbas, and I'll go with thee!
Cup.An if my mother go, I'll follow her.
Dido.Why stay'st thou here? thou art no love of mine.
Iar.Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee!40
Dido.No; live, Iarbas: What hast thou deserved,That I should say thou art no love of mine?Something thou hast deserved.—Away, I say!Depart from Carthage; come not in my sight.
Iar.Am I not king of rich Gætulia?
Dido.Iarbas, pardon me, and stay a while.
Cup.Mother, look here.
Dido.What tell'st thou me of rich Gætulia?Am not I queen of Libya? then depart.
Iar.I go to feed the humour of my love,50Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.
Dido.Iarbas!
Iar.Doth Dido call me back?
Dido.No; but I charge thee never look on me.
Iar.Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die. [Exit.
Anna.Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go?
Dido.Because his loathsome sight offends mine eye,And in my thoughts is shrined another love.O Anna, didst thou know how sweet love were,Full soon wouldst thou abjure this single life!
Anna.Poor soul, I know too well the sour of love:60O, that Iarbas could but fancy me! [Aside.
Dido.Is not Æneas fair and beautiful?
Anna.Yes; and Iarbas foul and favourless.
Dido.Is he not eloquent in all his speech?
Anna.Yes; and Iarbas rude and rustical.
Dido.Name not Iarbas: but, sweet Anna, say,Is not Æneas worthy Dido's love?
Anna.O sister, were you empress of the world,Æneas well deserves to be your love!So lovely is he, that, where'er he goes,70The people swarm to gaze him in the face.
Dido.But tell them, none shall gaze on him but I,Lest their gross eye-beams taint my lover's cheeks.Anna, good sister Anna, go for him,Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean away.
Anna.Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love?
Dido.Yet must I hear that loathsome name again?Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him. [ExitAnna.
Cup.You shall not hurt my father when he comes.
Dido.No; for thy sake I'll love thy father well.—80O dull-conceited Dido, that till nowDidst never think Æneas beautiful!But now, for quittance of this oversight,I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair;His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass;His lips an altar, where I'll offer up[482]As many kisses as the sea hath sands;Instead of music I will hear him speak;His looks shall be my only library;And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury,90In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealthThan twenty thousand Indias can afford.O, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leaveTo be more modest than her thoughts admit,Lest I be made a wonder to the world.
EnterÆneas, Achates, Sergestus, Ilioneus,andCloanthus.
Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord?
Ach.That will Æneas show your majesty.
Dido.Æneas, art thou there?
Æn.I understand your highness sent for me.
Dido.No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in sooth,100In what might Dido highly pleasure thee.
Æn.So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands,As, without blushing, I can ask no more:Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships unrigg'd,My sails all rent in sunder with the wind,My oars broken, and my tackling lost,Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves;Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet;Our masts the furious winds struck overboard:Which piteous wants if Dido will supply,110We will account her author of our lives.
Dido.Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships,Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me,And let Achates sail to Italy:I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled[483]gold,Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;[484]Oars of massy ivory, full of holes,Through which the water shall delight to play;Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks,Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves;120The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang,Hollow pyramides of silver plate;The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wroughtThe wars of Troy,—but not Troy's overthrow;For ballace,[485]empty Dido's treasury:Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here.Achates, thou shalt be so seemly[486]clad,As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships,And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs,Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth130Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck,So that Æneas may but stay with me.
Æn.Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay?
Dido.To war against my bordering enemies.Æneas, think not Dido is in love;For, if that any man could conquer me,I had been wedded ere Æneas came:See, where the pictures of my suitors hang;And are not these as fair as fair may be?
Ach.I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd.140
Æn.[487]I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen.
Ili.This man and I were at Olympia's[488]games,
Serg.I know this face; he is a Persian born:I travell'd with him to Ætolia.
Cloan.And I in Athens with this gentleman,Unless I be deceived, disputed once.
Dido.But speak, Æneas; know you none of these?
Æn.No, madam; but it seems that these are kings.
Dido.All these, and others which I never saw,Have been most urgent suitors for my love;150Some came in person, others sent their legates,Yet none obtained me: I am free from all;And yet, God knows, entangled unto one.This was an orator, and thought by wordsTo compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd:And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild;But his fantastic humours pleased not me:This was Alcion, a musician;But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go:This was the wealthy king of Thessaly;160But I had gold enough, and cast him off:This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince;But weapons gree not with my tender years:The rest are such as all the world well knows:Yet now[489]I swear, by heaven and him I love,I was as far from love as they from hate.
Æn.O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves!
Dido.Then never say that thou art miserable,Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love,Yet boast not of it, for I love thee not,—170And yet I hate thee not.—O, if I speak,I shall betray myself! [Aside.]—Æneas, come:[490]We too will go a-hunting in the woods;But not so much for thee,—thou art but one,—As for Achates and his followers.[Exeunt.
Enter[491]JunotoAscanius,who lies asleep.Juno.Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd brat,The boy wherein false Destiny delights,The heir of Fury,[492]the favourite of the Fates,[493]That ugly imp that shall outwear my wrath,And wrong my deity with high disgrace.But I will take another order now,And raze th' eternal register of Time:Troy shall no more call him her second hope,Nor Venus triumph in his tender youth;For here, in spite of Heaven, I'll murder him,10And feed infection with his let-out[494]life.Say, Paris, now shall Venus have the ball?Say, vengeance, now shall her Ascanius die?O no! God wot, I cannot watch my time,Nor quit good turns with double fee down told:Tut, I am simple, without mind[495]to hurt,And have no gall at all to grieve my foes!But lustful Jove and his adulterous childShall find it written on confusion's front,That only Juno rules in Rhamnus town.[496]20EnterVenus.Ven.What should this mean? my doves are back return'dWho warn me of such danger prest[497]at handTo harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.—Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here?Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not my wits.Juno.Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrathShould e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine!Are not we both sprung of celestial race,And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods?Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin30Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites?Ven.Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son,Had not my doves discovered thy intent:But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head,And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls,If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.Juno.Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall haveFor saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings,That would have killed him, sleeping, as he lay?What, though I was offended with thy son,40And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land,When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede,[498]That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame,And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball,I mustered all the winds unto his wreck,And urg'd each element to his annoy?Yet now I do repent me of his ruth,And wish that I had never wrong'd him so.Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fateThat hath so many unresisted[499]friends:50Wherefore I changed[500]my counsel with the time,And planted love where envy erst had sprung.Ven.Sister of Jove, if that thy love be suchAs these thy protestations do paint forth,We two, as friends, one fortune will divide:Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap,And to a sceptre change his golden shafts;Fancy[501]and modesty shall live as mates,And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch:Love, my Æneas, and desire is thine;60The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine.Juno.More than melodious are these words to me,That overcloy my soul with their content.Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserveSuch amorous favours at thy beauteous hand?But, that thou mayst more easily perceiveHow highly I do prize this amity,Hark to a motion of eternal league,Which I will make in quittance of thy love.Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains,70And feeds his eyes with favours of her court;She, likewise, in admiring spends her time,And cannot talk nor think of aught but him:Why should not they, then, join in marriage,And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage-town,Whom casualty of sea hath made such friends?And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'dBetwixt these two, whose loves are so alike;And both our deities, conjoin'd in one,Shall chain felicity unto their throne.80Ven.Well could I like this reconcilement's means;But much I fear my son will ne'er consent,Whose armèd soul, already on the sea,Darts forth her light [un]to Lavinia's shore.Juno.Fair queen of love, I will divorce these doubts,And find my way to weary such fond thoughts.This day they both a-hunting forth will rideInto the[502]woods adjoining to these walls;When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports,I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works,90And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers;Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet,And interchangeably discourse their thoughts,Whose short conclusion will seal up their heartsUnto the purpose which we now propound.Ven.Sister, I see you savour of my wiles:Be it as you will have [it] for this once.Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge;Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms,And couch him in Adonis' purple down.100[Exeunt.
Enter[491]JunotoAscanius,who lies asleep.
Juno.Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd brat,The boy wherein false Destiny delights,The heir of Fury,[492]the favourite of the Fates,[493]That ugly imp that shall outwear my wrath,And wrong my deity with high disgrace.But I will take another order now,And raze th' eternal register of Time:Troy shall no more call him her second hope,Nor Venus triumph in his tender youth;For here, in spite of Heaven, I'll murder him,10And feed infection with his let-out[494]life.Say, Paris, now shall Venus have the ball?Say, vengeance, now shall her Ascanius die?O no! God wot, I cannot watch my time,Nor quit good turns with double fee down told:Tut, I am simple, without mind[495]to hurt,And have no gall at all to grieve my foes!But lustful Jove and his adulterous childShall find it written on confusion's front,That only Juno rules in Rhamnus town.[496]20
EnterVenus.
Ven.What should this mean? my doves are back return'dWho warn me of such danger prest[497]at handTo harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.—Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here?Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not my wits.
Juno.Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrathShould e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine!Are not we both sprung of celestial race,And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods?Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin30Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites?
Ven.Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son,Had not my doves discovered thy intent:But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head,And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls,If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.
Juno.Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall haveFor saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings,That would have killed him, sleeping, as he lay?What, though I was offended with thy son,40And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land,When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede,[498]That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame,And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball,I mustered all the winds unto his wreck,And urg'd each element to his annoy?Yet now I do repent me of his ruth,And wish that I had never wrong'd him so.Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fateThat hath so many unresisted[499]friends:50Wherefore I changed[500]my counsel with the time,And planted love where envy erst had sprung.
Ven.Sister of Jove, if that thy love be suchAs these thy protestations do paint forth,We two, as friends, one fortune will divide:Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap,And to a sceptre change his golden shafts;Fancy[501]and modesty shall live as mates,And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch:Love, my Æneas, and desire is thine;60The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine.
Juno.More than melodious are these words to me,That overcloy my soul with their content.Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserveSuch amorous favours at thy beauteous hand?But, that thou mayst more easily perceiveHow highly I do prize this amity,Hark to a motion of eternal league,Which I will make in quittance of thy love.Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains,70And feeds his eyes with favours of her court;She, likewise, in admiring spends her time,And cannot talk nor think of aught but him:Why should not they, then, join in marriage,And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage-town,Whom casualty of sea hath made such friends?And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'dBetwixt these two, whose loves are so alike;And both our deities, conjoin'd in one,Shall chain felicity unto their throne.80
Ven.Well could I like this reconcilement's means;But much I fear my son will ne'er consent,Whose armèd soul, already on the sea,Darts forth her light [un]to Lavinia's shore.
Juno.Fair queen of love, I will divorce these doubts,And find my way to weary such fond thoughts.This day they both a-hunting forth will rideInto the[502]woods adjoining to these walls;When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports,I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works,90And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers;Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet,And interchangeably discourse their thoughts,Whose short conclusion will seal up their heartsUnto the purpose which we now propound.
Ven.Sister, I see you savour of my wiles:Be it as you will have [it] for this once.Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge;Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms,And couch him in Adonis' purple down.100[Exeunt.