Enter[423]twoMurderers,dragging in theCardinal.Card.Murder me not; I am a cardinal.First Murd.Wert thou the Pope thou might'st not scape from us.Card.What, will you file your hands with churchmen's blood?Sec. Murd.Shed your blood! O Lord, no! for we intend to strangle you.Card.Then there is no remedy, but I must die?First Murd.No remedy; therefore prepare yourself.Card.Yet lives my brother Duke Dumaine, and many mo,To revenge our deaths upon that cursèd king;Upon whose heart may all the Furies gripe,10And with their paws drench his black soul in hell!First Murd.Yours, my Lord Cardinal, you should have said.—[They strangle him.So, pluck amain:He is hard-hearted; therefore pull with violence.Come, take him away.[Exeunt with the body.
Enter[423]twoMurderers,dragging in theCardinal.
Card.Murder me not; I am a cardinal.
First Murd.Wert thou the Pope thou might'st not scape from us.
Card.What, will you file your hands with churchmen's blood?
Sec. Murd.Shed your blood! O Lord, no! for we intend to strangle you.
Card.Then there is no remedy, but I must die?
First Murd.No remedy; therefore prepare yourself.
Card.Yet lives my brother Duke Dumaine, and many mo,To revenge our deaths upon that cursèd king;Upon whose heart may all the Furies gripe,10And with their paws drench his black soul in hell!
First Murd.Yours, my Lord Cardinal, you should have said.—[They strangle him.So, pluck amain:He is hard-hearted; therefore pull with violence.Come, take him away.[Exeunt with the body.
Enter[424]Dumaine,reading a letter; with others.Dum.My noble brother murder'd by the king!O, what may I do for to revenge thy death?The king's alone, it cannot satisfy.Sweet Duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon,Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us.I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death,And root Valois his line from forth of France;And beat proud Bourbon to his native home,That basely seeks to join with such a king,Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow.10He will'd the governor of Orleans, in his name,That I with speed should have been put to death;But that's prevented, for to end his life,And[425]all those traitors to the Church of RomeThat durst attempt to murder noble Guise.EnterFriar.
Enter[424]Dumaine,reading a letter; with others.
Dum.My noble brother murder'd by the king!O, what may I do for to revenge thy death?The king's alone, it cannot satisfy.Sweet Duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon,Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us.I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death,And root Valois his line from forth of France;And beat proud Bourbon to his native home,That basely seeks to join with such a king,Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow.10He will'd the governor of Orleans, in his name,That I with speed should have been put to death;But that's prevented, for to end his life,And[425]all those traitors to the Church of RomeThat durst attempt to murder noble Guise.
EnterFriar.
Fri.My lord, I come to bring you news that your brother the Cardinal of Lorraine,by the king's consent, is lately strangled unto death.
Dum.My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive!O words of power to kill a thousand men!—20Come, let us away, and levy men;'Tis war that must assuage this tyrant's pride.Fri.My lord, hear me but speak.I am a friar of the order of the Jacobins,That for my conscience' sake will kill the king.Dum.But what doth move thee, above the rest, to do the deed?Fri.O my lord, I have been a great sinner in my days! and the deed is meritorious.Dum.But how wilt thou get opportunity?30Fri.Tush, my lord, let me alone for that.Dum.Friar, come with me;We will go talk more of this within.[Exeunt.
Dum.My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive!O words of power to kill a thousand men!—20Come, let us away, and levy men;'Tis war that must assuage this tyrant's pride.
Fri.My lord, hear me but speak.I am a friar of the order of the Jacobins,That for my conscience' sake will kill the king.
Dum.But what doth move thee, above the rest, to do the deed?
Fri.O my lord, I have been a great sinner in my days! and the deed is meritorious.
Dum.But how wilt thou get opportunity?30
Fri.Tush, my lord, let me alone for that.
Dum.Friar, come with me;We will go talk more of this within.[Exeunt.
Drums and Trumpets.Enter[426]King Henry,theKing of Navarre,Epernoun,Bartus,Pleshè,Soldiers,andAttendants.Henry.Brother of Navarre, I sorrow muchThat ever I was prov'd your enemy,And that the sweet and princely mind you bearWas ever troubled with injurious wars.I vow, as I am lawful king of France,To recompense your reconcilèd love,With all the honours and affectionsThat ever I vouchsaf'd my dearest friends.Nav.It is enough if that Navarre may beEsteemèd faithful to the king of France,10Whose service he may still command till death.Henry.Thanks to my kingly brother of Navarre.Then here we'll lie before Lutetia-walls,[427]Girting this strumpet city with our siege,Till, surfeiting with our afflicting arms,She cast her hateful stomach to the earth.Enter aMessenger.
Drums and Trumpets.Enter[426]King Henry,theKing of Navarre,Epernoun,Bartus,Pleshè,Soldiers,andAttendants.
Henry.Brother of Navarre, I sorrow muchThat ever I was prov'd your enemy,And that the sweet and princely mind you bearWas ever troubled with injurious wars.I vow, as I am lawful king of France,To recompense your reconcilèd love,With all the honours and affectionsThat ever I vouchsaf'd my dearest friends.
Nav.It is enough if that Navarre may beEsteemèd faithful to the king of France,10Whose service he may still command till death.
Henry.Thanks to my kingly brother of Navarre.Then here we'll lie before Lutetia-walls,[427]Girting this strumpet city with our siege,Till, surfeiting with our afflicting arms,She cast her hateful stomach to the earth.
Enter aMessenger.
Mes.An it please your majesty, here is a friar of the order of the Jacobins, sent from the President of Paris, that craves access unto your grace.
Henry.Let him come in. [ExitMess.20EnterFriar,with a letter.Eper.I like not this friar's look:'Twere not amiss, my lord, if he were search'd.Henry.Sweet Epernoun, our friars are holy men.And will not offer violence to their kingFor all the wealth and treasure of the world.—Friar, thou dost acknowledge me thy king?Fri.I, my good lord, and will die therein.Henry.Then come thou near, and tell what news thou bring'st.Fri.My lord,The President of Paris greets your grace,30And sends his duty by these speedy lines,Humbly craving your gracious reply. [Gives letter.Henry.I'll read them, friar, and then I'll answer thee.Fri.Sancte Jacobe,[428]now have mercy upon me![Stabs the king with a knife, as he reads the letter; and then the king gets the knife, and kills him.Eper.O my lord, let him live a while!Henry.No, let the villain die, and feel in hellJust torments for his treachery.Nav.What, is your highness hurt?Henry.Yes, Navarre; but not to death, I hope.Nav.God shield your grace from such a sudden death!—40Go call a surgeon hither straight. [Exit anAttendant.Henry.What irreligious pagans' parts be these,Of such as hold them of the holy church!Take hence that damnèd villain from my sight.[Attendantscarry out theFriar'sbody.Eper.Ah, had your highness let him live,We might have punish'd him to his deserts!Henry.Sweet Epernoun, all rebels under heavenShall take example by his[429]punishment,How they bear arms against their sovereign.—Go call the English agent hither straight: [Exit anAttendant.50I'll send my sister England news of this,And give her warning of her treacherous foes.Enter aSurgeon.Nav.Pleaseth your grace to let the surgeon search your wound?Henry.The wound, I warrant ye, is deep, my lord.—Search, surgeon, and resolve me what thou see'st.[TheSurgeonsearches the wound.Enter theEnglish Agent.Agent for England, send thy mistress wordWhat this detested Jacobin hath done.Tell her, for all this, that I hope to live;Which if I do, the papal monarch goesTo wreck, and antichristian kingdom falls:60These bloody hands shall tear his triple crown,And fire accursèd Rome about his ears;I'll fire his crazèd buildings, and enforceThe papal towers to kiss the lowly[430]earth.Navarre, give me thy hand: I here do swearTo ruinate that wicked Church of Rome,That hatcheth up such bloody practices;And here protest eternal love to thee,And to the Queen of England specially,Whom God hath bless'd for hating papistry.70Nav.These words revive my thoughts, and comfort me,To see your highness in this virtuous mind.Henry.Tell me, surgeon, shall I live?Surg.Alas, my lord, the wound is dangerous,For you are stricken with a poison'd knife!Henry.A poison'd knife! what, shall the French king die,Wounded and poison'd both at once?Eper.O, thatThat damnèd villain were alive again,79That we might torture him with some new-found death!Bar.He died a death too good:The devil of hell torture his wicked soul!Henry.Ah, curse him not, sith he is dead!—O, the fatal poison works within my breast!—Tell me, surgeon, and flatter not—may I live?Surg.Alas, my lord, your highness cannot live!Nav.Surgeon, why say'st thou so? the king may live.Henry.O no, Navarre! thou must be king of France.Nav.Long may you live, and still be king of France!Eper.Or else, die Epernoun!90Henry.Sweet Epernoun, thy king must die.—My lords,Fight in the quarrel of this valiant prince,For he's your lawful king, and my next heir;Valois's line ends in my tragedy.Now let the house of Bourbon wear the crown;And may it ne'er end in blood as mine hath done!—Weep not, sweet Navarre, but revenge my death.—Ah, Epernoun, is this thy love to me?Henry, thy king, wipes off these childish tears,And bids thee whet thy sword on Sixtus' bones,100That it may keenly slice the Catholics.He loves me not [the most[431]] that sheds most tears,But he that makes most lavish of his blood.Fire Paris, where these treacherous rebels lurk.—I die, Navarre: come bear me to my sepulchre.Salute the Queen of England in my name,And tell her Henry dies her faithful friend. [Dies.Nav.Come, lords, take up the body of the king,That we may see it honourably interr'd:And then I vow so[432]to revenge his death,110As Rome, and all these popish prelates there,Shall curse the time that e'er Navarre was king,And ruled in France by Henry's fatal death.[They march out, with the body ofKing Henrylying on four men's shoulders, with a deadmarch, drawing weapons on the ground.
Henry.Let him come in. [ExitMess.20
EnterFriar,with a letter.
Eper.I like not this friar's look:'Twere not amiss, my lord, if he were search'd.
Henry.Sweet Epernoun, our friars are holy men.And will not offer violence to their kingFor all the wealth and treasure of the world.—Friar, thou dost acknowledge me thy king?
Fri.I, my good lord, and will die therein.
Henry.Then come thou near, and tell what news thou bring'st.
Fri.My lord,The President of Paris greets your grace,30And sends his duty by these speedy lines,Humbly craving your gracious reply. [Gives letter.
Henry.I'll read them, friar, and then I'll answer thee.
Fri.Sancte Jacobe,[428]now have mercy upon me![Stabs the king with a knife, as he reads the letter; and then the king gets the knife, and kills him.
Eper.O my lord, let him live a while!
Henry.No, let the villain die, and feel in hellJust torments for his treachery.
Nav.What, is your highness hurt?
Henry.Yes, Navarre; but not to death, I hope.
Nav.God shield your grace from such a sudden death!—40Go call a surgeon hither straight. [Exit anAttendant.
Henry.What irreligious pagans' parts be these,Of such as hold them of the holy church!Take hence that damnèd villain from my sight.[Attendantscarry out theFriar'sbody.
Eper.Ah, had your highness let him live,We might have punish'd him to his deserts!
Henry.Sweet Epernoun, all rebels under heavenShall take example by his[429]punishment,How they bear arms against their sovereign.—Go call the English agent hither straight: [Exit anAttendant.50I'll send my sister England news of this,And give her warning of her treacherous foes.
Enter aSurgeon.
Nav.Pleaseth your grace to let the surgeon search your wound?
Henry.The wound, I warrant ye, is deep, my lord.—Search, surgeon, and resolve me what thou see'st.[TheSurgeonsearches the wound.
Enter theEnglish Agent.
Agent for England, send thy mistress wordWhat this detested Jacobin hath done.Tell her, for all this, that I hope to live;Which if I do, the papal monarch goesTo wreck, and antichristian kingdom falls:60These bloody hands shall tear his triple crown,And fire accursèd Rome about his ears;I'll fire his crazèd buildings, and enforceThe papal towers to kiss the lowly[430]earth.Navarre, give me thy hand: I here do swearTo ruinate that wicked Church of Rome,That hatcheth up such bloody practices;And here protest eternal love to thee,And to the Queen of England specially,Whom God hath bless'd for hating papistry.70
Nav.These words revive my thoughts, and comfort me,To see your highness in this virtuous mind.
Henry.Tell me, surgeon, shall I live?
Surg.Alas, my lord, the wound is dangerous,For you are stricken with a poison'd knife!
Henry.A poison'd knife! what, shall the French king die,Wounded and poison'd both at once?
Eper.O, thatThat damnèd villain were alive again,79That we might torture him with some new-found death!
Bar.He died a death too good:The devil of hell torture his wicked soul!
Henry.Ah, curse him not, sith he is dead!—O, the fatal poison works within my breast!—Tell me, surgeon, and flatter not—may I live?
Surg.Alas, my lord, your highness cannot live!
Nav.Surgeon, why say'st thou so? the king may live.
Henry.O no, Navarre! thou must be king of France.
Nav.Long may you live, and still be king of France!
Eper.Or else, die Epernoun!90
Henry.Sweet Epernoun, thy king must die.—My lords,Fight in the quarrel of this valiant prince,For he's your lawful king, and my next heir;Valois's line ends in my tragedy.Now let the house of Bourbon wear the crown;And may it ne'er end in blood as mine hath done!—Weep not, sweet Navarre, but revenge my death.—Ah, Epernoun, is this thy love to me?Henry, thy king, wipes off these childish tears,And bids thee whet thy sword on Sixtus' bones,100That it may keenly slice the Catholics.He loves me not [the most[431]] that sheds most tears,But he that makes most lavish of his blood.Fire Paris, where these treacherous rebels lurk.—I die, Navarre: come bear me to my sepulchre.Salute the Queen of England in my name,And tell her Henry dies her faithful friend. [Dies.
Nav.Come, lords, take up the body of the king,That we may see it honourably interr'd:And then I vow so[432]to revenge his death,110As Rome, and all these popish prelates there,Shall curse the time that e'er Navarre was king,And ruled in France by Henry's fatal death.[They march out, with the body ofKing Henrylying on four men's shoulders, with a deadmarch, drawing weapons on the ground.
Didowas published in 1594, with the following title:—
The Tragedie of Dido Queene of Carthage: Played by the Children of her Maiesties Chappell. Written by Christopher Marlowe, and Thomas Nash, Gent.
At London, Printed, by the Widdowe Orwin, for Thomas Woodcocke, and are to be sold at his shop, in Paules Churchyeard, at the signe of the blacke Beare.1594. 4to.
A copy of this edition is in the Bodleian Library; and I am indebted to my friend Mr. C. H. Firth for kindly comparing Dyce's text with the text of the Bodleian copy.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
Jupiter.Ganymede.Hermes.Cupid.Juno.Venus.Æneas.Ascanius, his son.Achates.Ilioneus.Cloanthus.Sergestus.Other Trojans.Iarbas.Carthaginian Lords.Dido.Anna, her sister.Nurse.
Here the curtains draw: there is discoveredJupiterdandlingGanymedeupon his knee, andHermeslying asleep.Jup.Come, gentle Ganymede, and play with me;I love thee well, say Juno what she will.Gan.I am much better for your worthless love,That will not shield me from her shrewish blows!To-day, whenas I filled into your cups,And held the cloth of pleasance whiles you drank,She reached me such a rap for that I spilled,As made the blood run down about mine ears.Jup.What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts?By Saturn's soul, and this earth-threatening hair,[433]10That, shaken thrice, makes nature's buildings quake,I vow, if she but once frown on thee more,To hang her, meteor-like, 'twixt heaven and earth,And bind her, hand and foot, with golden cords,As once I did for harming Hercules!Gan.Might I but see that pretty sport a-foot,O, how would I with Helen's brother laugh,And bring the gods to wonder at the game!Sweet Jupiter, if e'er I pleased thine eye,Or seemèd fair, wall'd-in with eagle's wings,[434]20Grace my immortal beauty with this boon,And I will spend my time in thy bright arms.Jup.What is't, sweet wag, I should deny thy youth?Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes,As I, exhaled with thy fire-darting beams,Have oft driven back the horses of the Night,Whenas they would have haled thee from my sight.Sit on my knee, and call for thy content,Control proud Fate, and cut the thread of Time:Why, are not all the gods at thy command,30And heaven and earth the bounds of thy delight?Vulcan[435]shall dance to make thee laughing-sport,And my nine daughters sing when thou art sad;From Juno's bird I'll pluck her spotted pride,To make thee fans wherewith to cool thy face;And Venus' swans shall shed their silver down,To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed;Hermes no more shall show the world his wings,If that thy fancy in his feathers dwell,But, as this one, I'll tear them all from him,40[Plucks a feather fromHermes'wings.Do thou but say, "their colour pleaseth me."Hold here, my little love; these linked gems, [Gives jewels.My Juno ware upon her marriage-day,Put thou about thy neck, my own sweet heart,And trick thy arms and shoulders with my theft.Gan.I would have a jewel for mine ear,And a fine brooch to put in[to] my hat,And then I'll hug with you an hundred times.Jup.And shall have, Ganymede, if thou wilt be my love.EnterVenus.Ven.I, this is it: you can sit toying there,50And playing with that female wanton boy,Whiles my Æneas wanders on the seas,And rests a prey to every billow's pride.Juno, false Juno, in her chariot's pomp,Drawn through the heavens by steeds of Boreas' brood,Made Hebe to direct her airy wheels;Into the windy country of the clouds;Where, finding Æolus entrenched with storms,And guarded with a thousand grisly ghosts,She humbly did beseech him for our bane,60And charged him drown my son with all his train.Then gan the winds break ope their brazen doors,And all Æolia to be up in arms;Poor Troy must now be sacked upon the sea,And Neptune's waves be envious men of war;Epeus' horse, to Ætna's hill transform'd,Preparèd stands to wreck their wooden walls;And Æolus, like Agamemnon, soundsThe surges, his fierce soldiers, to the spoil:See how the night, Ulysses-like, comes forth,70And intercepts the day, as Dolon erst!Ay me! the stars supprised,[436]like Rhesus' steeds,Are drawn by darkness forth Astræus' tents.[437]What shall I do to save thee, my sweet boy?Whenas the waves do threat our crystal world,And Proteus, raising hills of floods on high,Intends, ere long, to sport him in the sky.[438]False Jupiter, reward'st thou virtue so?What, is not piety exempt from woe?Then die, Æneas, in thine innocence,80Since that religion hath no recompense.Jup.Content thee, Cytherea, in thy care,Since thy Æneas' wandering fate is firm,[439]Whose weary limbs shall shortly make reposeIn those fair walls I promised him of yore.But, first, in blood must his good fortune bud,Before he be the lord of Turnus' town,Or force her smile that hitherto hath frowned:Three winters shall he with the Rutiles war,And, in the end, subdue them with his sword;90And full three summers likewise shall he wasteIn managing those fierce barbarian minds;Which once performed, poor Troy, so long suppressed,From forth her ashes shall advance her head,And flourish once again, that erst was dead.But bright Ascanius, beauty's better work,Who with the sun divides one radiant shape,Shall build his throne amidst those starry towersThat earth-born Atlas, groaning, underprops:No bounds, but heaven, shall bound his empery,100Whose azured gates, enchasèd with his name,Shall make the Morning haste her grey uprise,To feed her eyes with his engraven fame.Thus, in stout Hector's race, three hundred years[440]The Roman sceptre royal shall remain,Till that a princess-priest,[441]conceived by Mars,Shall yield to dignity a double birth,Who will eternish[442]Troy in their attempts.Ven.How may I credit these thy flattering terms,When yet both sea and sands beset their ships,110And Phœbus, as in Stygian pools, refrainsTo taint his tresses in the Tyrrhene main?Jup.I will take order for that presently.—Hermes, awake! and haste to Neptune's realm,Whereas the wind-god, warring now with fate,Besiege[s] th' offspring of our kindly loins:Charge him from me to turn his stormy powers,And fetter them in Vulcan's sturdy brass,That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsman's peace. [ExitHermes.Venus, farewell: thy son shall be our care.—120Come, Ganymede, we must about this gear.[443][ExeuntJupiterandGanymede.Ven.[444]Disquiet seas, lay down your swelling looks,And court Æneas with your calmy cheer,Whose beauteous burden well might make you proud,Had not the heavens, conceiv'd with hell-born clouds,Veil'd his resplendent glory from your view:For my sake, pity him, Oceanus,That erst-while issu'd from thy watery loins,And had my being from thy bubbling froth.Triton, I know, hath filled his trump with Troy,130And therefore will take pity on his toil,And call both Thetis and Cymothoe[445]To succour him in this extremity.EnterÆneas,Ascanius,Achates,and others.What do I see? my son now come on shore?Venus, how art thou compassed with content,The while thine eyes attract their sought-for joys!Great Jupiter, still honoured mayst thou beFor this so friendly aid in time of need!Here in this bush disguisèd will I stand,Whiles my Æneas spends himself in plaints,140And heaven and earth with his unrest acquaints.Æn.You sons of care, companions of my course,Priam's misfortune follows us by sea,And Helen's rape doth haunt us[446]at our heels.How many dangers have we overpass'd!Both barking Scylla,[447]and the sounding rocks,The Cyclops' shelves, and grim Ceraunia's seat,Have you o'ergone, and yet remain alive.Pluck up your hearts, since Fate still rests our friend,And changing heavens may those good days return,150Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride.Ach.Brave prince of Troy, thou only art our god,That by thy virtues free'st us from annoy,And makes our hopes survive to coming[448]joys:Do thou but smile, and cloudy heaven will clear,Whose night and day descendeth from thy brows.Though we be now in extreme misery,And rest the map of weather-beaten woe,[449]Yet shall the agèd sun shed forth his hair,[450]To make us live unto our former heat,160And every beast the forest doth send forthBequeath her young ones to our scanted food.Asc.Father, I faint; good father, give me meat.Æn.Alas! sweet boy, thou must be still a while,Till we have fire to dress the meat we killed!Gentle Achates, reach the tinder-box,That we may make a fire to warm us with,And roast our new-found victuals on this shore.Ven.See, what strange arts necessity finds out!How near, my sweet Æneas, art thou driven! [Aside.Æn.Hold; take this candle, and go light a fire;171You shall have leaves and windfall boughs enow,Near to these woods, to roast your meat withal.—Ascanius, go and dry thy drenchèd limbs,Whiles I with my Achates rove abroad,To know what coast the wind hath driven us on,Or whether men or beasts inhabit it.[ExeuntAscaniusand others.Ach.The air is pleasant, and the soil most fitFor cities and society's supports;Yet much I marvel that I cannot find180No steps of men imprinted in the earth.Ven.Now is the time for me to play my part.— [Aside.Ho, young men! saw you, as you came,[451]Any of all my sisters wandering here,Having a quiver girded to her side,And clothèd in a spotted leopard's skin?Æn.I neither saw nor heard of any such.But what may I, fair virgin, call your name,Whose looks set forth no mortal form to view,Nor speech bewrays aught human in thy birth?190Thou art a goddess that delud'st our eyes,And shrouds thy beauty in this borrow'd shape;But whether thou the Sun's bright sister be,Or one of chaste Diana's fellow-nymphs,Live happy in the height of all content,And lighten our extremes with this one boon,As to instruct us under what good heavenWe breathe as now, and what this world is calledOn which by tempests' fury we are cast:Tell us, O, tell us, that are ignorant!200And this right hand shall make thy altars crackWith mountain-heaps of milk-white sacrifice.Ven.Such honour, stranger, do I not affect:It is the use for Tyrian[452]maids to wearTheir bow and quiver in this modest sort,And suit themselves in purple for the nonce,That they may trip more lightly o'er the lawnds,[453]And overtake the tuskèd boar in chase.But for the land whereof thou dost inquire,It is the Punic kingdom, rich and strong,210Adjoining on Agenor's stately town,The kingly seat of Southern Libya,Whereas Sidonian Dido rules as queen.But what are you that ask of me these things?Whence may you come, or whither will you go?Æn.Of Troy am I, Æneas is my name;Who, driven by war from forth my native world,Put sails to sea to seek out Italy;And my divine descent from sceptred Jove:With twice twelve Phrygian ships I plough'd the deep,220And made that way my mother Venus led;But of them all scarce seven do anchor safe,And they so wrecked and weltered by the waves,As every tide tilts 'twixt their oaken sides;And all of them, unburdened of their load,Are ballassèd with billows' watery weight.But hapless I, God wot, poor and unknown,Do trace these Libyan deserts, all despised,Exiled forth Europe and wide Asia both,And have not any coverture but heaven.230Ven.Fortune hath favour'd thee, whate'er thou be,In sending thee unto this courteous coast.A' God's name, on! and haste thee to the court,Where Dido will receive ye with her smiles;And for thy ships, which thou supposest lost,Not one of them hath perish'd in the storm,But are arrivèd safe, not far from hence:And so I leave thee to thy fortune's lot,Wishing good luck unto thy wandering steps. [Exit.Æn.Achates, 'tis my mother that is fled;240I know her by the movings of her feet.—Stay, gentle Venus, fly not from thy son!Too cruel, why wilt thou forsake me thus,Or in these shades[454]deceiv'st mine eyes so oft?Why talk we not together hand in hand,And tell our griefs in more familiar terms?But thou art gone, and leav'st me here alone,To dull the air with my discoursive moan.
Here the curtains draw: there is discoveredJupiterdandlingGanymedeupon his knee, andHermeslying asleep.
Jup.Come, gentle Ganymede, and play with me;I love thee well, say Juno what she will.
Gan.I am much better for your worthless love,That will not shield me from her shrewish blows!To-day, whenas I filled into your cups,And held the cloth of pleasance whiles you drank,She reached me such a rap for that I spilled,As made the blood run down about mine ears.
Jup.What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts?By Saturn's soul, and this earth-threatening hair,[433]10That, shaken thrice, makes nature's buildings quake,I vow, if she but once frown on thee more,To hang her, meteor-like, 'twixt heaven and earth,And bind her, hand and foot, with golden cords,As once I did for harming Hercules!
Gan.Might I but see that pretty sport a-foot,O, how would I with Helen's brother laugh,And bring the gods to wonder at the game!Sweet Jupiter, if e'er I pleased thine eye,Or seemèd fair, wall'd-in with eagle's wings,[434]20Grace my immortal beauty with this boon,And I will spend my time in thy bright arms.
Jup.What is't, sweet wag, I should deny thy youth?Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes,As I, exhaled with thy fire-darting beams,Have oft driven back the horses of the Night,Whenas they would have haled thee from my sight.Sit on my knee, and call for thy content,Control proud Fate, and cut the thread of Time:Why, are not all the gods at thy command,30And heaven and earth the bounds of thy delight?Vulcan[435]shall dance to make thee laughing-sport,And my nine daughters sing when thou art sad;From Juno's bird I'll pluck her spotted pride,To make thee fans wherewith to cool thy face;And Venus' swans shall shed their silver down,To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed;Hermes no more shall show the world his wings,If that thy fancy in his feathers dwell,But, as this one, I'll tear them all from him,40[Plucks a feather fromHermes'wings.Do thou but say, "their colour pleaseth me."Hold here, my little love; these linked gems, [Gives jewels.My Juno ware upon her marriage-day,Put thou about thy neck, my own sweet heart,And trick thy arms and shoulders with my theft.
Gan.I would have a jewel for mine ear,And a fine brooch to put in[to] my hat,And then I'll hug with you an hundred times.
Jup.And shall have, Ganymede, if thou wilt be my love.
EnterVenus.
Ven.I, this is it: you can sit toying there,50And playing with that female wanton boy,Whiles my Æneas wanders on the seas,And rests a prey to every billow's pride.Juno, false Juno, in her chariot's pomp,Drawn through the heavens by steeds of Boreas' brood,Made Hebe to direct her airy wheels;Into the windy country of the clouds;Where, finding Æolus entrenched with storms,And guarded with a thousand grisly ghosts,She humbly did beseech him for our bane,60And charged him drown my son with all his train.Then gan the winds break ope their brazen doors,And all Æolia to be up in arms;Poor Troy must now be sacked upon the sea,And Neptune's waves be envious men of war;Epeus' horse, to Ætna's hill transform'd,Preparèd stands to wreck their wooden walls;And Æolus, like Agamemnon, soundsThe surges, his fierce soldiers, to the spoil:See how the night, Ulysses-like, comes forth,70And intercepts the day, as Dolon erst!Ay me! the stars supprised,[436]like Rhesus' steeds,Are drawn by darkness forth Astræus' tents.[437]What shall I do to save thee, my sweet boy?Whenas the waves do threat our crystal world,And Proteus, raising hills of floods on high,Intends, ere long, to sport him in the sky.[438]False Jupiter, reward'st thou virtue so?What, is not piety exempt from woe?Then die, Æneas, in thine innocence,80Since that religion hath no recompense.
Jup.Content thee, Cytherea, in thy care,Since thy Æneas' wandering fate is firm,[439]Whose weary limbs shall shortly make reposeIn those fair walls I promised him of yore.But, first, in blood must his good fortune bud,Before he be the lord of Turnus' town,Or force her smile that hitherto hath frowned:Three winters shall he with the Rutiles war,And, in the end, subdue them with his sword;90And full three summers likewise shall he wasteIn managing those fierce barbarian minds;Which once performed, poor Troy, so long suppressed,From forth her ashes shall advance her head,And flourish once again, that erst was dead.But bright Ascanius, beauty's better work,Who with the sun divides one radiant shape,Shall build his throne amidst those starry towersThat earth-born Atlas, groaning, underprops:No bounds, but heaven, shall bound his empery,100Whose azured gates, enchasèd with his name,Shall make the Morning haste her grey uprise,To feed her eyes with his engraven fame.Thus, in stout Hector's race, three hundred years[440]The Roman sceptre royal shall remain,Till that a princess-priest,[441]conceived by Mars,Shall yield to dignity a double birth,Who will eternish[442]Troy in their attempts.
Ven.How may I credit these thy flattering terms,When yet both sea and sands beset their ships,110And Phœbus, as in Stygian pools, refrainsTo taint his tresses in the Tyrrhene main?
Jup.I will take order for that presently.—Hermes, awake! and haste to Neptune's realm,Whereas the wind-god, warring now with fate,Besiege[s] th' offspring of our kindly loins:Charge him from me to turn his stormy powers,And fetter them in Vulcan's sturdy brass,That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsman's peace. [ExitHermes.Venus, farewell: thy son shall be our care.—120Come, Ganymede, we must about this gear.[443][ExeuntJupiterandGanymede.
Ven.[444]Disquiet seas, lay down your swelling looks,And court Æneas with your calmy cheer,Whose beauteous burden well might make you proud,Had not the heavens, conceiv'd with hell-born clouds,Veil'd his resplendent glory from your view:For my sake, pity him, Oceanus,That erst-while issu'd from thy watery loins,And had my being from thy bubbling froth.Triton, I know, hath filled his trump with Troy,130And therefore will take pity on his toil,And call both Thetis and Cymothoe[445]To succour him in this extremity.
EnterÆneas,Ascanius,Achates,and others.
What do I see? my son now come on shore?Venus, how art thou compassed with content,The while thine eyes attract their sought-for joys!Great Jupiter, still honoured mayst thou beFor this so friendly aid in time of need!Here in this bush disguisèd will I stand,Whiles my Æneas spends himself in plaints,140And heaven and earth with his unrest acquaints.
Æn.You sons of care, companions of my course,Priam's misfortune follows us by sea,And Helen's rape doth haunt us[446]at our heels.How many dangers have we overpass'd!Both barking Scylla,[447]and the sounding rocks,The Cyclops' shelves, and grim Ceraunia's seat,Have you o'ergone, and yet remain alive.Pluck up your hearts, since Fate still rests our friend,And changing heavens may those good days return,150Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride.
Ach.Brave prince of Troy, thou only art our god,That by thy virtues free'st us from annoy,And makes our hopes survive to coming[448]joys:Do thou but smile, and cloudy heaven will clear,Whose night and day descendeth from thy brows.Though we be now in extreme misery,And rest the map of weather-beaten woe,[449]Yet shall the agèd sun shed forth his hair,[450]To make us live unto our former heat,160And every beast the forest doth send forthBequeath her young ones to our scanted food.
Asc.Father, I faint; good father, give me meat.
Æn.Alas! sweet boy, thou must be still a while,Till we have fire to dress the meat we killed!Gentle Achates, reach the tinder-box,That we may make a fire to warm us with,And roast our new-found victuals on this shore.
Ven.See, what strange arts necessity finds out!How near, my sweet Æneas, art thou driven! [Aside.
Æn.Hold; take this candle, and go light a fire;171You shall have leaves and windfall boughs enow,Near to these woods, to roast your meat withal.—Ascanius, go and dry thy drenchèd limbs,Whiles I with my Achates rove abroad,To know what coast the wind hath driven us on,Or whether men or beasts inhabit it.[ExeuntAscaniusand others.
Ach.The air is pleasant, and the soil most fitFor cities and society's supports;Yet much I marvel that I cannot find180No steps of men imprinted in the earth.
Ven.Now is the time for me to play my part.— [Aside.Ho, young men! saw you, as you came,[451]Any of all my sisters wandering here,Having a quiver girded to her side,And clothèd in a spotted leopard's skin?
Æn.I neither saw nor heard of any such.But what may I, fair virgin, call your name,Whose looks set forth no mortal form to view,Nor speech bewrays aught human in thy birth?190Thou art a goddess that delud'st our eyes,And shrouds thy beauty in this borrow'd shape;But whether thou the Sun's bright sister be,Or one of chaste Diana's fellow-nymphs,Live happy in the height of all content,And lighten our extremes with this one boon,As to instruct us under what good heavenWe breathe as now, and what this world is calledOn which by tempests' fury we are cast:Tell us, O, tell us, that are ignorant!200And this right hand shall make thy altars crackWith mountain-heaps of milk-white sacrifice.
Ven.Such honour, stranger, do I not affect:It is the use for Tyrian[452]maids to wearTheir bow and quiver in this modest sort,And suit themselves in purple for the nonce,That they may trip more lightly o'er the lawnds,[453]And overtake the tuskèd boar in chase.But for the land whereof thou dost inquire,It is the Punic kingdom, rich and strong,210Adjoining on Agenor's stately town,The kingly seat of Southern Libya,Whereas Sidonian Dido rules as queen.But what are you that ask of me these things?Whence may you come, or whither will you go?
Æn.Of Troy am I, Æneas is my name;Who, driven by war from forth my native world,Put sails to sea to seek out Italy;And my divine descent from sceptred Jove:With twice twelve Phrygian ships I plough'd the deep,220And made that way my mother Venus led;But of them all scarce seven do anchor safe,And they so wrecked and weltered by the waves,As every tide tilts 'twixt their oaken sides;And all of them, unburdened of their load,Are ballassèd with billows' watery weight.But hapless I, God wot, poor and unknown,Do trace these Libyan deserts, all despised,Exiled forth Europe and wide Asia both,And have not any coverture but heaven.230
Ven.Fortune hath favour'd thee, whate'er thou be,In sending thee unto this courteous coast.A' God's name, on! and haste thee to the court,Where Dido will receive ye with her smiles;And for thy ships, which thou supposest lost,Not one of them hath perish'd in the storm,But are arrivèd safe, not far from hence:And so I leave thee to thy fortune's lot,Wishing good luck unto thy wandering steps. [Exit.
Æn.Achates, 'tis my mother that is fled;240I know her by the movings of her feet.—Stay, gentle Venus, fly not from thy son!Too cruel, why wilt thou forsake me thus,Or in these shades[454]deceiv'st mine eyes so oft?Why talk we not together hand in hand,And tell our griefs in more familiar terms?But thou art gone, and leav'st me here alone,To dull the air with my discoursive moan.
Enter[455]Iarbus,followed byIlioneus,Cloanthus,[456]Sergestus,and others.Ili.Follow, ye Trojans, follow this brave lord,And plain to him the sum of your distress.Iar.Why, what are you, or wherefore do you sue?Ili.Wretches[457]of Troy, envied of the winds,That crave such favour at your honour's feetAs poor distressèd misery may plead:Save, save, O, save our ships from cruel fire,That do complain the wounds of thousand waves,And spare our lives, whom every spite pursues!We come not, we, to wrong your Libyan gods,10Or steal your household Lares from their shrines;Our hands are not prepared to lawless spoil.Nor armèd to offend in any kind;Such force is far from our unweapon'd thoughtsWhose fading weal, of victory forsook,Forbids all hope to harbour near our hearts.Iar.But tell me, Trojans, Trojans if you be,Unto what fruitful quarters were ye bound,Before that Boreas buckled with[458]your sails?Clo.There is a place, Hesperia termed by us,20An ancient empire, famousèd for arms,And fertile in fair Ceres' furrowed wealth,Which now we call Italia, of his nameThat in such peace long time did rule the same.Thither made we;When, suddenly, gloomy Orion rose,And led our ships into the shallow sands,Whereas the southern wind with brackish breathDispersed them all amongst the wreckful rocks:From thence a few of us escaped to land;30The rest, we fear, are folded in the floods.Iar.Brave men-at-arms, abandon fruitless fears,Since Carthage knows to entertain distress.Serg.I, but the barbarous sort do threat our ships,And will not let us lodge upon the sands;In multitudes they swarm unto the shore,And from the first earth interdict our feet.Iar.Myself will see they shall not trouble ye:Your men and you shall banquet in our court,And every Trojan be as welcome here40As Jupiter to silly Baucis'[459]house.Come in with me; I'll bring ye to my queen,Who shall confirm my words with further deeds.Serg.Thanks, gentle lord, for such unlook'd-for grace:Might we but once more see Æneas' face,Then would we hope to quite such friendly turns,As shall[460]surpass the wonder of our speech.[Exeunt.
Enter[455]Iarbus,followed byIlioneus,Cloanthus,[456]Sergestus,and others.
Ili.Follow, ye Trojans, follow this brave lord,And plain to him the sum of your distress.
Iar.Why, what are you, or wherefore do you sue?
Ili.Wretches[457]of Troy, envied of the winds,That crave such favour at your honour's feetAs poor distressèd misery may plead:Save, save, O, save our ships from cruel fire,That do complain the wounds of thousand waves,And spare our lives, whom every spite pursues!We come not, we, to wrong your Libyan gods,10Or steal your household Lares from their shrines;Our hands are not prepared to lawless spoil.Nor armèd to offend in any kind;Such force is far from our unweapon'd thoughtsWhose fading weal, of victory forsook,Forbids all hope to harbour near our hearts.
Iar.But tell me, Trojans, Trojans if you be,Unto what fruitful quarters were ye bound,Before that Boreas buckled with[458]your sails?
Clo.There is a place, Hesperia termed by us,20An ancient empire, famousèd for arms,And fertile in fair Ceres' furrowed wealth,Which now we call Italia, of his nameThat in such peace long time did rule the same.Thither made we;When, suddenly, gloomy Orion rose,And led our ships into the shallow sands,Whereas the southern wind with brackish breathDispersed them all amongst the wreckful rocks:From thence a few of us escaped to land;30The rest, we fear, are folded in the floods.
Iar.Brave men-at-arms, abandon fruitless fears,Since Carthage knows to entertain distress.
Serg.I, but the barbarous sort do threat our ships,And will not let us lodge upon the sands;In multitudes they swarm unto the shore,And from the first earth interdict our feet.
Iar.Myself will see they shall not trouble ye:Your men and you shall banquet in our court,And every Trojan be as welcome here40As Jupiter to silly Baucis'[459]house.Come in with me; I'll bring ye to my queen,Who shall confirm my words with further deeds.
Serg.Thanks, gentle lord, for such unlook'd-for grace:Might we but once more see Æneas' face,Then would we hope to quite such friendly turns,As shall[460]surpass the wonder of our speech.[Exeunt.