Some came in person, others sent their legates, But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go: En. O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves! Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love: I shall betray myself! [Aside.]-Æneas, come:+ [Excunt. Enter JUNO to ASCANIUS, who lies asleep. Juno. Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursed brat, The boy wherein false Destiny delights, The heir of Fury, the favourite of the Fates,§ 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, And feed infection with his let-out || 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** to hurt, *now] Old ed. "how." † come] Old ed. "speak,"-by an error of the compositor, whose eye had caught the word from the preceding line. Enter Juno, &c.] Scene, a grove. § Fates] Old ed. "face."-"Omit," says J. M. (Gent. Magazine for Jan. 1841), "the second 'the' in this line." Ilet-out] Old ed. "left out." quit] i. e. requite. ** mind] Old cd. "made."-The modern editors print "might." And have no gall at all to grieve my foes! But lustful Jove and his adulterous child Shall find it written on confusion's front, That only Juno rules in Rhamnus' town.* Enter VENUS. Ven. What should this mean? my doves arc Who warn me of such danger prest + at hand Should e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine! Ven. Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have Had not my doves discover'd thy intent: If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy. Juno. Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall have For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings, Ven. Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such * That only Juno rules in Rhamnus' town] i. e. that Juno only is the goddess of vengeance, Nemesis. † prest] i, e. ready, near. unresisted] i. e. irresistible. § chang'd] Old ed. "change." * Fancy and modesty shall live as mates, And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch: Ven. Well could I like this reconcilement's Enter DIDO,* ENEAS, ANNA, IARBAS, ACHATES, CUPID as ASCANIUS, and Followers. Dido. Eneas, think not but I honour thee, That thus in person go with thee to hunt: My princely robes, thou see'st, are laid aside, Whose glittering pomp Diana's shroud + supplies; All fellows now, dispos'd alike to sport; The woods are wide, and we have store of game. Fair Trojan, hold my golden bow a while, Until I gird my quiver to my side.— Lords, go before; we two must talk alone. Iar. Ungentle, can she wrong Iarbas so? I'll die before a stranger have that grace. "We two will talk alone"-what words be these! [Aside. Dido. What makes Iarbas here of all the rest? We could have gone without your company. En. But love and duty led him on perhaps To press beyond acceptance to your sight. Iar. Why, man of Troy, do I offend thine eyes? Or art thou griev'd thy betters press so nigh? Dido. How now, Gætulian! are you grown so brave, To challenge us with your comparisons? Iar. Women may wrong by privilege of love; And rouse the light-foot deer from forth their lair? Anna. Sister, see, see Ascanius in his pomp, Bearing his hunt-spear bravely in his hand! Dido. Yea, little son, are you so forward now? Cup. Ay, mother; I shall one day be a man, And better able unto other arms; Meantime these wanton weapons serve my war, Which I will break betwixt a lion's jaws. Dido. What, dar'st thou look a lion in the face? Cup. Ay; and outface him too, do what he can. Anna. How like his father speaketh he in all! *Enter Dido, &c.] Scene, a wood. † shroud] Old ed. "shrowdes." En. And mought* I live to see him sack rich And load his spear with Grecian princes' heads, away, And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills, Then would I wish me in fair Dido's arms, And dead to scorn that hath pursu'd me so. [Aside. En. Stout friend Achates, dost thou know this wood? Ach. As I remember, here you shot the deer That sav'd your famish'd soldiers' lives from death, When first you set your foot upon the shore; En. O, how these irksome labours now delight, away, Some to the mountains, some unto the soil,t You to the valleys,-thou unto the house. [Exeunt all except IARBAS. Iar. Ay, this it is which wounds me to the death, To see a Phrygian, far-fet o'er the sea, O love! O hate! O cruel women's hearts, *mought] i. e. might. the soil i. e. the water.-To take soil was a very common hunting-term applied to a deer, and meaning to take refuge in the water. Cotgrave (who has also "Souil de sanglier. The soile of a wild Boare; the slough or mire wherein he hath wallowed", and "Se souiller, Of a swine, to take soyle, or wallow in the mire") gives "Batre les eaux. A Deere to take soyle." Sylvester renders the lines of Du Bartas, by "He Dieu! quel plaisir c'est de voir tout vn troupeau De cerfs au pieds ventoux s'esbatre dessus l'eau," "O! what a sport, to see a heard of them And Petowe, in his Second Part of Hero and Leander, &c. (see Appendix iii. to the present volume), has,- "The chased deere hath soile to coole his heate." far-fet o'er] Old ed. "far fet to:" fet, i. e. fetched. In our author's translation of The first Book of Lucan we have "far-fet story." Revenge me on Eneas or on her? On her! fond* man, that were to war 'gainst heaven, And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts. And mould her mind unto new fancy's shapes.+ ! And then-what then? Iarbas shall but love: Who ne'er will cease to soar till he be slain. [Ecit. The storm. Enter ENEAS and DIDO in the cave, at several times. Dido. Eneas! En. Dido! Dido. Tell me, dear love, how found you out this cave? En. By chance, sweet queen, as Mars and Venus met. Dido. Why, that was in a net, where § we are loose; And yet I am not free,-O, would I were! En. Why, what is it that Dido may desire And not obtain, be it in human power? Dido. The thing that I will die before I ask, And yet desire to have before I dic. En. It is not aught Æneas may achieve? Dido. Eneas! no; although his eyes do pierce. En. What, hath Iarbas anger'd her in aught? And will she be avengèd on his life? Dido. Not anger'd me, except in angering En. What ails my queen? is she faln sick of And vow, by all the gods of hospitality, late? By heaven and earth, and my fair brother's bow, Dido. Not sick, my love; but sick I must By Paphos, Capys,* and the purple sea conceal The torment that it boots me not reveal: And yet I'll speak,-and yet I'll hold my peace. Do shame her worst, I will disclose my grief: Eneas, thou art he-what did I say? Something it was that now I have forgot. En. What means fair Dido by this doubtful speech? Dido. Nay, nothing; but Æneas loves me not. En. Eneas' thoughts dare not ascend so high As Dido's heart, which monarchs might not scale. Dido. It was because I saw no king like thee, Whose golden crown might balance my content; But now that I have found what to affect,* I follow one that loveth fame 'foret me, And rather had seem fair [in] Sirens' eyes, Than to the Carthage queen that dies for him. En. If that your majesty can look so low As my despised worths that shun all praise, With this my hand I give to you my heart, From whence my radiant mother did descend, Never to leave these new-upreared walls, Dido. What more than Delian music do I hear, As made disdain to fly to fancy's+ lap! [Exeunt to the cave. ACT IV. Enter ACHATES, CUPID as ASCANIUS, IARBAS, and Ach. Did ever men see such a sudden storm, Or day so clear so suddenly o'ercast? Iar. I think some fell enchantress dwelleth here, That can call them forth whenas § she please, And dive into black tempest's treasury, Whenas she means to mask the world with clouds. Anna. In all my life I never knew the like; It hail'd, it snow'd, it lighten'd, all at once. Ach. I think, it was the devil's revelling night, There was such hurly-burly in the heavens: Doubtless Apollo's axle-tree is crack'd, Or agèd Atlas' shoulder out of joint, The motion was so over-violent. affect] i. e. love.-Old ed. "effect." t'fore] Old ed. "for." Enter Achates, &c.] Scene, before the cave. § whenas] i. e. when.-The line is corrupted. "Read," says J. M. (Gent. Magazine for Jan., 1841), 'One that can call them forth, &c.'" But the corruption seems to lie in the word "them." Iar. In all this coil,§ where have ye left the queen? Asc. Nay, where's my warlike father, can you tell? Anna. Behold, where both of them come forth the cave. Iar. Come forth the cave! can heaven endure this sight? Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove, That with the sharpness of my edgèd sting Enter, from the cave, NEAS and DIDO, En. The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.* Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town, En. Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the Anna. As others did, by running to the wood. Dido. But where were you, Iarbas, all this while? Iar. Not with Æneas in the ugly cave. Dido. I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind; But I will soon put by that stumbling-block, And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.t Enter IARBAS to sacrifice. [Exeunt. Iar. Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice, That I may pacify that gloomy Jove, [Servants bring in the sacrifice, and then exeunt. Now, if thou be'st a pitying god of power, Iar. Ay, Anna: is there aught you would with me? Anna. Nay, no such weighty business of import But may be slack'd until another time: I would be thankful for such courtesy. Iar. Anna, against this Trojan do I pray, Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love, And dive into her heart by colour'd looks. cannot Anna. Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain For her that so delighteth in thy pain! Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love, Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief. Iar. Mine eye is fix'd where fancy start: O, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts, That register the numbers of my ruth, And I will either move the thoughtless flint, Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears, Before my sorrow's tide have any stint! Anna. I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love, In this delight of dying pensiveness. Away with Dido! Anna be thy song; Anna, that doth admire thee more than heaven. Iar. I may nor will list to such loathsome change, That intercepts the course of my desire.— Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here; For I will fly from these alluring eyes, That do pursue my peace where'er it goes. [Exit.-Servants re-enter, and carry out the vessels, dc. Anna. Iarbas, stay, loving Iarbas, stay! For I have honey to present thee with. Hard-hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak? I'll follow thee with outcries ne'ertheless, And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair. [Exit. |