Yet left he should, for I am full of feare,
Bring me his oares, his tackling, and his sailes;
What if I sinke his ships? O heele frowne.
Better he frowne, then I should dye for griefe:
I cannot see him frowne, it may not be:
Armies of foes resolu'd to winne this towne,
Or impious traitors vowde to haue my life,
Affright me not, onely
Æneas
frowne
Is that which terrifies poore
Didos
heart:
Nor bloudie speares appearing in the ayre,
Presage the downfall of my Emperie,
Nor blazing Commets threatens
Didos
death,
It is
Æneas
frowne that ends my daies:
If he forsake me not, I neuer dye,
For in his lookes I see eternitie,
And heele make me immortall with a kisse.
Enter a Lord.
Your Nurse is gone with yong
Ascanius
,
And heres
Æneas
tackling, oares and sailes.
Dido.
Are these the sailes that in despight of me,
Packt with the windes to beare
Æneas
hence?
Ile hang ye in the chamber where I lye,
Driue if you can my house to
Italy
:
Ile set the casement open that the windes
May enter in, and once againe conspire
Against the life of me poore Carthage Queene:
But though he goe, he stayes in Carthage still,
And let rich Carthage fleete vpon the seas,
So I may haue
Æneas
in mine armes.
Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plaines,
And would be toyling in the watrie billowes,
To rob their mistresse of her Troian guest?
O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense,
To measure how I prize
Æneas
loue,
Thou wouldst haue leapt from out the Sailers hands,
And told me that
Æneas
ment to goe:
And yet I blame thee not, thou art but wood.
The water which our Poets terme a Nimph,
Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast,
And shrunke not backe, knowing my loue was there?
The water is an Element, no Nimph,
Why should I blame
Æneas
for his flight?
O
Dido
, blame not him, but breake his oares,
These were the instruments that launcht him forth,
Theres not so much as this base tackling too,
But dares to heape vp sorrowe to my heart:
Was it not you that hoysed vp these sailes?
Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?
For this will
Dido
tye ye full of knots,
And sheere ye all asunder with her hands:
Now serue to chastize shipboyes for their faults,
Ye shall no more offend the Carthage Queene,
Now let him hang my fauours on his masts,
And see if those will serue in steed of sailes:
For tackling, let him take the chaines of gold,
Which I bestowd vpon his followers:
In steed of oares, let him vse his hands,
And swim to
Italy
, Ile keepe these sure:
Come beare them in.
Exit.
Enter the Nurse with Cupid for Ascanius.
Nurse.
My Lord
Ascanius
, ye must goe with me.
Cupid.
Whither must I goe? Ile stay with my mother.
Nurse.
No, thou shalt goe with me vnto my house,
I haue an Orchard that hath store of plums,
Browne Almonds, Seruises, ripe Figs and Dates,
Dewberries, Apples, yellow Orenges,
A garden where are Bee hiues full of honey,
Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers,
And in the midst doth run a siluer streame,
Where thou shalt see the red gild fishes leape,
White Swannes, and many louely water fowles:
Now speake
Ascanius
, will ye goe or no?
Cupid.
Come come Ile goe, how farre hence is your house?
Nurse.
But hereby child, we shall get thither straight.
Cupid.
Nurse I am wearie, will you carrie me?
Nurse.
I, so youle dwell with me and call me mother.
Cupid.
So youle loue me, I care not if I doe.
Nurse.
That I might liue to see this boy a man,
How pretilie he laughs, goe ye wagge,
Youle be a twigger when you come to age.
Say
Dido
what she will I am not old,
Ile be no more a widowe, I am young,
Ile haue a husband, or els a louer.
Cupid.
A husband and no teeth!
Nurse.
O what meane I to haue such foolish thoughts!
Foolish is loue, a toy, O sacred loue,
If there be any heauen in earth, tis loue:
Especially in women of your yeares.
Blush blush for shame, why shouldst thou thinke of loue?
A graue, and not a louer fits thy age:
A graue, why? I may liue a hundred yeares,
Fourescore is but a girles age, loue is sweete:
My vaines are withered, and my sinewes drie,
Why doe I thinke of loue now I should dye?
Cupid.
Come Nurse.
Nurse.
Well, if he come a wooing he shall speede, O how vnwise was I to say him nay!
Exeunt
Actus 5
Enter Æneas with a paper in his hand, drawing the platforme of the citie, with him Achates, Cloanthus, and Illieneus.
Æn.
Triumph my mates, our trauels are at end,
Here will
Æneas
build a statelier
Troy
,
Then that which grim
Atrides
ouerthrew:
Carthage
shall vaunt her pettie walles no more,
For I will grace them with a fairer frame,
And clad her in a Chrystall liuerie,
Wherein the day may euermore delight:
From golden
India Ganges
will I fetch,
Whose wealthie streames may waite vpon her towers,
And triple wise intrench her round about:
The Sunne from Egypt shall rich odors bring,
Wherewith his burning beames like labouring Bees,
That loade their thighes with
Hyblas
honeys spoyles,
Shall here vnburden their exhaled sweetes,
And plant our pleasant suburbes with her fumes.
Acha.
What length or bredth shal this braue towne cōtaine?
Æn.
Not past foure thousand paces at the most.
Illio.
But what shall it be calde,
Troy
as before?
Æn.
That haue I not determinde with my selfe.
Cloan.
Let it be term'd
Ænea
by your name.
Serg.
Rather
Ascania
by your little sonne.
Æn.
Nay, I will haue it calde
Anchisaon
, Of my old fathers name.
Enter Hermes with Ascanius.
Hermes.
Æneas
stay,
Ioues
Herald bids thee stay.
Æn.
Whom doe I see,
Ioues
winged messenger? Welcome to
Carthage
new erected towne.
Hermes.
Why cosin, stand you building Cities here,
And beautifying the Empire of this Queene,
While
Italy
is cleane out of thy minde?
To too forgetfull of thine owne affayres,
Why wilt thou so betray thy sonnes good hap?
The king of Gods sent me from highest heauen,
To sound this angrie message in thine eares.
Vaine man, what Monarky expectst thou here?
Or with what thought sleepst thou in
Libia
shoare?
If that all glorie hath forsaken thee,
And thou despise the praise of such attempts:
Yet thinke vpon
Ascanius
prophesie,
And yong
Iulus
more then thousand yeares,
Whom I haue brought from
Ida
where he slept,
And bore yong
Cupid
vnto
Cypresse
Ile.
Æn.
This was my mother that beguild the Queene,
And made me take my brother for my sonne:
No maruell
Dido
though thou be in loue,
That daylie danlest
Cupid
in thy armes:
Welcome sweet child, where hast thou been this long?
Asca.
Eating sweet Comfites with Queene
Didos
maide, Who euer since hath luld me in her armes.
Æn.
Sergestus
, beare him hence vnto our ships, Lest
Dido
spying him keepe him for a pledge.
Hermes.
Spendst thou thy time about this little boy,
And giuest not care vnto the charge I bring?
I tell thee thou must straight to
Italy
,
Or els abide the wrath of frowning
Ioue
.
Æn.
How should I put into the raging deepe,
Who haue no sailes nor tackling for my ships?
What would the Gods haue me
Deucalion
like,
Flote vp and downe where ere the billowes driue?
Though she repairde my fleete and gaue me ships,
Yet hath she tane away my oares and masts,
And left me neither saile nor sterne abourd.
Enter to them Iarbus.
Iar.
How now
Æneas
, sad, what meanes these dumpes?
Æn.
Iarbus
, I am cleane besides my selfe,
Ioue
hath heapt on me such a desperate charge, Which neither art nor reason may atchieue, Nor I deuise by what meanes to contriue.
Iar.
As how I pray, may I entreat you tell.
Æn.
With speede he bids me sail to
Italy
. When as I want both rigging for my fleete, And also furniture for these my men.
Iar.
If that be all, then cheare thy drooping lookes,
For I will furnish thee with such supplies:
Let some of those thy followers goe with me,
And they shall haue what thing so ere thou needst.
Æn.
Thankes good
Iarbus
for thy friendly ayde,
Achates
and the rest shall waite on thee, Whil'st I rest thankfull for this curtesie.
Exit Iarbus and Æneas traine.
Now will I haste vnto
Lauinian
shoare,
And raise a new foundation to old
Troy
,
Witnes the Gods, and witnes heauen and earth,
How loth I am to leaue these
Libian
bounds,
But that eternall
Iupiter
commands.
Enter Dido and Æneas.
Dido.
I feare I sawe
Æneas
little sonne,
Led by
Achates
to the Troian fleete:
If it be so, his father meanes to flye:
But here he is, now
Dido
trie thy wit.
Æneas
, wherefore goe thy men abourd?,
Why are thy ships new rigd? or to what end
Launcht from the hauen, lye they in the Rhode?
Pardon me though I aske, loue makes me aske.
Æn.
O pardon me, if I resolue thee why:
Æneas
will not faine with his deare loue, I must from hence: this day swift
Mercury
When I was laying a platforme for these walles, Sent from his father
Ioue
, appeard to me, And in his name rebukt me bitterly, For lingering here, neglecting
Italy
.
Dido.
But yet
Æneas
will not leaue his loue.
Æn.
I am commaunded by immortal
Ioue
, To leaue this towne and passe to
Italy
, And therefore must of force.
Dido.
These words proceed not from
Æneas
heart.
Æn.
Not from my heart, for I can hardly goe, And yet I may not stay,
Dido
farewell.
Dido.
Farewell: is this the mends for
Didos
loue?
Doe Troians vse to quit their Louers thus?
Fare well may
Dido
, so
Æneas
stay,
I dye, if my
Æneas
say farewell.
Æn.
Then let me goe and neuer say farewell, Let me goe, farewell, I must from hence.
Dido.
These words are poyson to poore
Didos
soule,
O speake like my
Æneas
, like my loue:
Why look'st thou toward the sea? the time hath been
When
Didos
beautie chaungd thine eyes to her;
Am I lesse faire then when thou sawest me first?
O then
Æneas
, tis for griefe of thee:
Say thou wilt stay in
Carthage
with my Queene,
And
Didos
beautie will returne againe:
Æneas
, say, how canst thou take thy leaue?
Wilt thou kisse
Dido
? O thy lips haue sworne
To stay with
Dido
: canst thou take her hand?
Thy Hand and mine haue plighted mutuall faith,
Therefore vnkinde
Æneas
, must thou say,
Then let me goe, and neuer say farewell.
Æn.
O Queene of
Carthage
, wert thou vgly blacke,
Æneas
could not choose but hold thee deare, Yet must he not gainsay the Gods behest.
Dido.
The Gods, what Gods be those that seeke my death?
Wherein haue I offended
Iupiter
,
That he should take
Æneas
from mine armes?
O no, the Gods wey not what Louers doe,
It is
Æneas
calles
Æneas
hence,
And wofull
Dido
by these blubbred cheekes,
By this right hand, and by our spousall rites,
Desires
Æneas
to remaine with her:
Si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam
Dulce meum, miserere domus labentis: & istam
Oro, si quis ad hac precibus locus, exue mentem.
Æn. Desine meque tuis incendere teque querelis, Italiam non sponte sequor.
Dido.
Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings
Were vp in armes, for making thee my loue?
How
Carthage
did rebell,
Iarbus
storme,
And all the world calles me a second
Helen
,
For being intangled by a strangers lookes:
So thou wouldst proue as true as
Paris
did,
Would, as faire
Troy
was,
Carthage
might be sackt,
And I be calde a second
Helena
.
Had I a sonne by thee, the griefe were lesse,
That I might see
Æneas
in his face:
Now if thou goest, what canst thou leaue behind,
But rather will augment then ease my woe?
Æn.
In vaine my loue thou spendst thy fainting breath, If words might moue me I were ouercome.
Dido.
And wilt thou not be mou'd with
Didos
words?
Thy mother was no Goddesse periurd man,
Nor
Dardanus
the author of thy stocke:
But thou art Sprung from
Scythian Caucasus
,
And Tygers of
Hircania
gaue thee sucke:
Ah foolish
Dido
to forbeare this long!
Wast thou not wrackt vpon this
Libian
shoare,
And cam'st to
Dido
like a Fisherswaine?
Repairde not I thy ships, made thee a King,
And all thy needie followers Noblemen?
O Serpent that came creeping from the shoare,
And I for pitie harbord in my bosome,
Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting,
And hisse at
Dido
for preseruing thee?
Goe goe and spare not, seeke out
Italy
,
I hope that that which loue forbids me doe,
The Rockes and Sea-gulfes will performe at large,
And thou shalt perish in the billowes waies,
To whom poore
Dido
doth bequeath reuenge,
I traytor, and the waues shall cast thee vp,
Where thou and false
Achates
first set foote:
Which if it chaunce, Ile giue ye buriall,
And weepe vpon your liueles carcases,
Though thou nor he will pitie me a whit.
Why star'st thou in my face? if thou wilt stay,
Leape in mine armes, mine armes are open wide:
If not, turne from me, and Ile turne from thee;
For though thou hast the heart to say farewell,
I haue not power to stay thee: is he gone?
I but heele come againe, he cannot goe,
He loues me to too well to serue me so:
Yet he that in my sight would not relent,
Will, being absent, be abdurate still.
By this is he got to the water side,
And, see the Sailers take him by the hand,
But he shrinkes backe, and now remembring me,
Returnes amaine: welcome, welcome my loue:
But wheres
Æneas
? ah hees gone hees gone!
Anna.
What meanes my sister thus to raue and crye?
Dido.
O
Anna
, my
Æneas
is abourd,
And leauing me will saile to
Italy
.
Once didst thou goe, and he came backe againe,
Now bring him backe, and thou shalt be a Queene,
And I will liue a priuate life with him.
Anna.
Wicked
Æneas
.
Dido.
Call him not wicked, sister speake him faire,
And looke vpon him with a Mermaides eye,
Tell him, I neuer vow'd at
Aulis
gulfe
The desolation of his natiue
Troy
,
Nor sent a thousand ships vnto the walles,
Nor euer violated faith to him:
Request him gently (
Anna
) to returne,
I craue but this, he stay a tide or two,
That I may learne to beare it patiently,
If he depart thus suddenly, I dye:
Run
Anna
, run, stay not to answere me.
Anna.
I goe faire sister, heauens graunt good successe.
Exit Anna.
Enter the Nurse.
Nurse.
O
Dido
, your little sonne
Ascanius
Is gone! he lay with me last night,
And in the morning he was stolne from me,
I thinke some Fairies haue beguiled me.
Dido.
O cursed hagge and false dissembling wretch!
That slayest me with thy harsh and hellish tale,
Thou for some pettie guift hast let him goe,
And I am thus deluded of my boy:
Away with her to prison presently,
Traytoresse too keend and cursed Sorceresse.
Nurse.
I know not what you meane by treason, I, I am as true as any one of yours.
Exeunt the Nurse.
Dido.
Away with her, suffer her not to speake. My sister comes, I like not her sad lookes.
Enter Anna.
Anna.
Before I came,
Æneas
was abourd,
And spying me, hoyst vp the sailes amaine:
But I cride out,
Æneas
, false
Æneas
stay.
Then gan he wagge his hand, which yet held vp,
Made me suppose he would haue heard me speake:
Then gan they driue into the Ocean,
Which when I viewd, I cride,
Æneas
stay,
Dido
, faire
Dido
wils
Æneas
stay:
Yet he whose heart of adamant or flint,
My teares nor plaints could mollifie a whit:
Then carelesly I rent my haire for griefe,
Which seene to all, though he beheld me not,
They gan to moue him to redresse my ruth,
And stay a while to heare what I could say,
But he clapt vnder hatches saild away.
Dido.
O
Anna
,
Anna
, I will follow him.
Anna.
How can ye goe when he hath all your fleete?