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By this, the camp was come unto the walls, To whom the agèd king thus, trembling, spoke; And through the breach did march into the “ Achilles' son, remember what I was, streets,
Father of fifty sons, but they are slain; Where, meeting with the rest, " Kill, kill!” they Lord of my fortune, but my fortune's turn'd; cried.
King of this city, but my Troy is fird; Frighted with this confusèd noise, I rose, And now am neither father, lord, nor king: And, looking from a turret, might behold
Yet who so wretched but desires to live! Young infants swimming in their parents' blood, 0, let me live, great Neoptolemus!" Headless carcasses pilèd up in heaps,
Not mov'd at all, but smiling at his tears, Virgins half-dead, dragg'd by their golden hair, This butcher, whilst his hands were yet held up, Aud with main force flung on a ring of pikes, Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands. Old men with swords thrust through their aged Dido. O, end, Æneas ! I can hear no more. sides,
Æn. At which the frantic queen leap'd on his Kneeling for mercy to a Greekish lad,
face, Who with steel pole-axes dash'd out their brains. And in his eyelids hanging by the nails, Then buckled I mine armour, drew my sword, A little while prolong'd her husband's life. And thinkiog to go down, came Hector's ghost, At last, the soldiers pull'd her by the heels, With ashy visage, blueish sulphur eyes,
And swung her howling in the empty air, His arms torn from his shoulders, and his breast Which sent an echo to the wounded king: Furrow'd with wounds, and, that which made me Whereat he lifted up his bed-rid limbs, weep,
And would have grappled with Achilles' son, Thongs at his heels, by which Achilles' borse Forgetting both his want of strength and hands; Drew him in triumph through the Greekish camr. Which he disdaining, wbisk'd his sword about, Burst from the earth, crying “ Æneas, fly! And with the wind * thereof the king fell down; Troy is a-fire, the Grecians have the town !" Then from the navel to the throat at once Dido. O Hector, who weeps not to hear thy Me ripp'd old Priam; at whose latter gasp name?
Dove's marble statue gan to bend the brow, Æn. Yet flung I forth, and, desperate of my As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act. life,
Yet he, undaunted, took his father's flag, Ran in the thickest throngs, and with this sword And dipp'd it in the old king's chill-cold blood, Sent many of their savage ghosts to hell.
And then in triumph ran into the streets, At last came Pyrrhus, fell and full of ire, Through which he could not pass for slaughter'd His harness * dropping blood, and on his spear
men; The mangled head of Priam's youngest son ; So, leaning on his sword, he stood stone-still, And, after him, his band of Myrmidons,
Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt. With balls of wild-fire in their murdering paws, By this, I got my father on my back, Which made the funeral flame that burnt fair This young boy in mine arms, and by the hand Troy ;
Led fair Creusa, my beloved wife ; All which hemm'd me about, crying, “This is he!". When thou, Achates, with thy sword mad'st way, Dido. Ah, how could poor Æneas scape their And we were round environ'd with the Greeks : hands?
0, there I lost my wife ! and, had not we Æn. My mother Venus, jealous of my health, Fought manfully, I had not told this tale. Convey'd me from their crooked nets and bands; Yet manhood would not serve; of force we ded; So I escap'd the furious Pyrrhus' wrath :
And, as we went unto our ships, thou know'st Who then ran to the palace of the king,
We saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets, And at Jove's altar finding Priamus,
Whom Ajax ravish'd in Diana's fane, t
* vind] OM ed. "wound"-Mr. Collier (Hist. of Eng. Beating their breasts, and falling on the ground,
Dram. Poet, iii. 226) first saw the right reading bere, col.
paring the following passage in Shakespeare's Humnie, He, with his falchion's point rais'd up at once,
act ii. Sc. 2; And with Megæra's eyes, star'd in their face,
“Unequal match'd, Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance :
Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rige, strikes wide;
The unnerved father falls."
t fane) Old ed. "Fawne."
Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent;
Dido. I die with melting ruth; Æneas, leave.t
this war? Æn. Achates, speak; gorrow hath tir'd me
quite. Ach. What happen'd to the queen we cannot
Asc. Shall I have such a quiver and a bow?
Cup. I will, fair mother; and so play my part As every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart.
(Erit. Ven. Sleep, my sweet nephew,ll 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. [Exit.
We hear they led her captive into Greece:
(Exeunt all except ASCANIUS, whom VENUS, entering
with COPID at another door, takes by the sleeve
as he is going off Ven. Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting
Asc. Are you Queen Dido's son?
* I will sing) Here, most probably, the boy who acted Venus was to sing any song that he happened to know. After the song the scene is supposed to be changed to a grove.
hyacinths) Old ed. “Hyaciuthe.” – “Read," says J. M. (Gent. Magazine for Jan. 1841),
• With blushing roses, purple hyacinth." But see note II, p. 18.
centronels) i. e. sentinels. Compare B. Barnes's Divils Charter, 1607;
* And bere for this night I keepe centrenell
Sig. F. 2. & Cytherea's) Old ed. “Citheidas. Il nephew) i. e. grandson (Lat. nepos).
• And, after that, by] Oid ed. " And after by that." † leavej i. e. cease.
Enter CUPID * as ASCAXIUS. Cup. Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queen To 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.
Cup. An if my mother go, I'll follow her.
of mine. Iar. Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee! Dido. No; live, larbas : what hast thou de
Jar. Am I not king of rich Gætulia!
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, Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.
Dido. Iarbas ! lar. Doth Dido call mo back? Dido. No; but I charge thee never look on me. Iar. Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die.
[Erit. Anna. Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go? Dido. Because his loathsome sight offends
Enter DIDO, ANNA, and IARBAS. lar. 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 : Tbat love is childish which consists in words. Dido. Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my
lar. But Dido is the favour I request.
Anna. Look, sister, how Æneas' little son
Cup. No, Dido will not take me in her arms;
(CUPID sings.t 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 ? Dido. Ay, 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. lar. Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me? Dido. O, stay, larbas, and I'll go with thee !
And in my thoughts is shrin'd another love.
love: 0, that Iarbas could but fancy me! (A side.
Dido. Is not Æneas fair and beautiful!
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, The 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
• Bnter Cupid, &c.) Scene, a hall in Dido's palace. † Cupid sings] Soe note , p. 259.
* foul and favourless] A pleonastic expression; for both words have much the same meaning, viz. ogly.
Anna, good sister Anna, go for him,
Through which the water shall delight to play; Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean Thy anchors shall be hew'd from crystal rocks, away.
Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves ; Anna. Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love ? The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall bang, Dido. Yet must I hear that loathsome name Hollow pyramides * of silver plate; again!
The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wrought Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him. (Ecit Anna. | The wars of Troy,—but not Troy's overthrow; Cup. You shall not hurt my father when he For ballass,t empty Dido's treasury : comes.
Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here. Dido. No; for thy sake I'll love thy father Achates, thou shalt be so seemly I clad, well.
As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy O dull-conceited Dido, that till now
ships, Didst never think Æneas beautiful!
And wanton mermaids court theo with sweet But now, for quittance of this oversight,
songs, I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair; Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass ; Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck, His lips an altar, where I'll offer up
So that Æneas may but stay with me. As many kisses as the sea hath sands;
En. Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay? Instead of inusic I will hear him speak;
Dido. To war against my bordering enemies. His looks shall be my only library ;
Æneas, think not Dido is in love; And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury,
For, if that any man could conquer me, In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealth I had been wedded ere Æneas came: Than twenty thousand Indias can afford.
See, where the pictures of my suitors hang; 0, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leave And are not these as fair as fair may be? To be more modest than her thoughts admit, Ach. I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was Lest I be made a wonder to the world. I
Serg. § I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Enter Æneas, ACHATES, SERGESTUS, ILIONEUA, and
Ni. This man and I were at Olympia's || Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord ?
games. Ach. That will Æneas shew your majesty. Serg. I know this face; he is a Persian born : Dido. Æneas, art thou there?
I travell’d with him to Ætolia. En. I understand, your highness sent for me. Cloan. And I in Athens with this gentleman, Dido. No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in Unless I be deceiv'd, disputed once. sooth,
Dido. But speak, Æneas; know you none of In what might Dido highly pleasure thee.
these? Æn. So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands, Æn. No, madam ; but it seems that these are As, without blushing, I can ask no more :
kings. Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships uprigg'd,
Dido. All these, and others which I never saw, My sails all rent in sunder with the wind, Have been most urgent suitors for my love; My oars broken, and my tackling lost, Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves;
pyramides) Mr. Collier (Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poct. Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet;
iii. 228) is mistaken in stating that bere the old ed. had Our masts the furious winds struck overboard : "pyramids."-Our early authors generally wrote “pyra Which piteous wants if Dido will supply, mides ” (a plural regularly formed from “pyrumis "); ad We will account her author of our lives.
we have already had in these plays,
* Like to the shadows of Pyramides," &c. Dido. Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships,
First Part of Tamburlane, p. 27, sec. COL Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me,
“Bosides the gates, and high pyramides," &c. And let Achates sail to Italy:
Faustus, p. 91, sec. col I'll give thee tackling made of rivell’d* gold,
t ballass] Spelt here in old ed. "ballace", -i. e. ballast
* seemly) Old ed. “meanly."-I at first conjecturel, Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;
"meetly.”—Mr. Collier pronounces the right reading to Oars of massy ivory, full of holes,
§ Serg.) The old ed. has "Æn."; which is proved to
bu wrong by the next speech of Dido. * rivelld] i. e. (I suppose) twistod.
|| Olympia's) Old od. “Olympus."
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.'
Some came in person, others sent their legates,
The rest are such as all the world well knows : ( Yet now* I swear, by heaven and him I love, I was as far from love as they from bate.
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, And yet I hate thee not.--0, if I speak, I shall betray myself! [Aside.]—Æneas, come:
eit We two will go a-hunting in the woods; But not so much for thee,-thou art but one,As for Achates and his followers. [Excunt.
Enter Juno I to Ascanius, who lies asleep. Juno. Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd 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 triuinph 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 ber Ascanius die? 0, no! God wot, I cannot watch my time, Nor quit a good turns with double fee down
told ! Tut, I am simple, without mind ** to hurt,
back return'd, Who warn me of such danger prest + at hand To harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.Juno, my mortal foe, what make you bere? · Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not ing wits. Juno. Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of
wrath Should 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 disjoin Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites? Ven. Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have
slain my son, Had not my doves discover'd 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
have For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings, That would have kill'd him, sleeping, as he lay! What, though I was offended with thy son, And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land, When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede, That was advanced by my Hebe's shame, And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball, I muster'd 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 bir so. Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fate That hath so many unresisted I friends : Wherefore I chang'd § my counsel with the time, And planted love where envy erst had sprung.
Ven. Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such As 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;
* now] Old ed. "how."
t 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 od. “face."-"
-“Omit," says J. M. (Gent. Magazine for Jan. 1841), “the second 'the' in this line."
|| let-out | Old ed. "left out." Iquit] i. e. requite. ** mind) Old ed. "made."—The modern editors print
* That only Juno rules in Rhamnus' town) i.e. that Judo only is the goddess of vengeance, Nemesis.
+ prest) i. e. ready, near.