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Fancy * and modesty shall live as mates,
Enter Dido,* ÆNEAS, ANNA, IARBAS, ACHATES, CUPID as And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch:
ASCANIUS, and Followers. Love my Æneas, and desire is thine;
Dido. Æneas, think not but I honour thee, The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine, That thus in person go with thee to hunt:
Juno. More than melodious are these words to me, My princely robes, thou see'st, are laid aside, That overcloy my soul with their content. Whose glittering pomp Diana's shroud
+ supplies; Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserve All fellows now, dispos'd alike to sport; Such amorous favours at thy beauteous hand? The woods are wide, and we have store of game. But, that thou mayst more easily perceive Fair Trojan, hold my golden bow a while, How highly I do prize this amity,
Until I gird my quiver to my side.Hark to a motion of eternal league,
Lords, go before; we two must talk alone. Which I will make in quittance of thy love. Iar. Ungentle, can she wrong Iarbas so ? Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains, I'll die before a stranger have that grace. And feeds his eyes with favours of her court; “We two will talk alone"—what words be these ! She, likewise, in admiring spends her time,
(Asile. And cannot talk nor think of aught but him: Dido. What makes Iarbas here of all the rest? Why should not they, then, join in marriage, We could have gone without your company. And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage-town, Æn. But love and duty led him on perhaps Whom casualty of sea bath made such friends ? To press beyond acceptance to your sight. And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'd Iar. Why, man of Troy, do I offend thine Betwixt these two, whose loves are so alike;
eyes ? And both our deities, conjoin'd in one,
Or art thou griev'd thy betters press so nigh? Shall chain felicity unto their throne.
Dido. How now, Gætulian! are you grown so Ven. Well could I like this reconcilement's brave, means;
To challenge us with your comparisons ? But much I fear, iny son will ne'er consent, Peasant, go seek companions like thyself, Whose armed soul, already on the sea,
And meddle not with any that I love.Darts forth her light to Lavinia's shore. + Æneas, be not mov'd at what he says; Juno. Fair queen of love, I will divorce these For otherwhile he will be out of joint. doubts,
Iar. Women may wrong by privilege of love; And find the way to weary such fond I thoughts. But, should that man of men, Dido except, This day they both a-hunting forth will ride Have taunted me in these opprobrious terms, Into the g woods adjoining to these walls; I would have either drunk his dying blood, When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports, or else I would have given my life in gage. I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works, Dido. Huntsmen, why pitch you not your And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their toils apace, showers;
And rouse the light-foot deer from forth their Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet,
lair ? And interchangeably discourse their thoughts, Anna. Sister, see, see Ascanius in his pomp, Whose short conclusion will seal up their hearts Bearing his hunt-spear bravely in his hand ! Unto the purpose which we now propound. Dido. Yea, little son, are you so forward Ven. Sister, I see you savour of my wiles :
now? Be it as you will have [it] for this once.
Cup. Ay, mother; I shall one day be a man, Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge ;
And better able unto other arms; Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms,
Meantime these wanton weapons serve my war, And couch him in Adonis' purple down.
Which I will break betwixt a lion's jaws. (Ereunt. Dido. What, dar’st thou look a lion in the
face? • Fancy) i. e. Love. light to Lavinia's shore] Qy. "lightning to"? or
Cup. Ay; and outface him too, do what he "light unto?" and (though perhaps Marlowe may have confounded "Lavinia" with " Lavinium")qy. “ Lavinian Anna. How like his father speaketh he in all ! shore"? as afterwards, p. 271, first col., “Now will I haste unto Lavinian shore, " &c. • fond) i. e. foolish, vain.
* Enter Dido, &c.] Scene, a wood. § the) Old ed. "these."
t shroud) Old ed. "shrowdes."
Æn. And mought* I live to see him sack rich Revenge me on Æneas or on her?
On her! fond* man, that were to war 'gainst And load his spear with Grecian princes' heads,
heaven, Then would I wish me with Anchises' tomb, And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts. And dead to honour that hath brought me up. This Trojan's end will be thy envy's aim, Iar. And might I live to see thee shipp'd Whose blood will reconcile thee to content, away,
And make love drunken with thy sweet desire. And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills, But Dido, that now holdeth him so dear, Then would I wish me in fair Dido's arms, Will die with very tidings of his death : And dead to scorn that hath pursu'd me so. But time will discontinue her content,
[Aside. And mould her mind unto new fancy's shapes. + Æn. Stout friend Achates, dost thou know O God of heaven, turn the hand of Fate this wood ?
Unto that happy day of my delight! Ach. As I remember, here you shot the deer And then- what thea! Iarbas shall but love: That sav'd your famish'd soldiers' lives from So doth he now, though not with equal guin; death,
That resteth in the rival of thy paiu, When first you set your foot upon the shore; Who ne'er will cease to soar till be be slain, And here we met fair Venus, virgin-like,
(Brit. Bearing her bow and quiver at her back. Æn. O, how these irksome labours now delight,
The storm. Enter Æneas and Dido in the cave, at
several times. And overjoy my thoughts with their escape !
Dido. Æneas ! Who would not undergo all kind of toil,
En. Dido! To be well stor'd with such a winter's tale?
Dido. Tell me, dear love, how found you out Dido. Æneas, leave these dumps, and let's
this cave? away,
Rn. By chance, sweet queen, as Mars and Some to the mountains, some unto the soil,+
Venus met. You to the valleys,-thou unto the house.
Dido. Why, that was in a net, where we are (Bxeunt all except IARBAS. lar. Ay, this it is which wounds me to the
And yet I am not free,-0, would I were ! death,
Æn. Why, wbat is it that Dido may desire To see a Phrygian, far-fet o'er I the sea,
And not obtain, be it in human power! Preferr'd before a man of majesty.
Dido. The thing that I will die before I ask, O love ! O hate! O cruel women's hearts, That imitate the moon in every change,
And yet desire to have before I die.
Æn. It is not aught Æneas may achieve? And, like the planets, ever love to range!
Dido. Æneas! no; although his eyes do What sball I do, thus wrongèd with disdain ?
Æn. What, hath Iarbas anger'd her in aught? * mought] i. e. might.
And will she be avenged on his life? † the soil) i. e. the water. - To take soil was a very
Dido. Not anger'd me, except in angering common hunting-term applied to a deer, and meaning to take refuge in the water. Cotgrave (who has also "Svuil
thee. de sanglier. The soile of a wild Boare; the slough or Æn. Who, then, of all so cruel may he be mire wherein he hath wallowed", and “Se souiller, Of a
That should detain thy eye in his defects ? swine, to take soyle, or wallow in the mire") gives " Batre les eaux. A Deere to take soyle." Sylvester
Dido. The man that I do eye where'er I am; renders the lines of Du Bartas,
Whose amorous face, like Pæan, sparkles fire, “He Dieu ! quel plaisir c'est de voir tout vn troupeau Whenas || he butts his beams ou Flora's bed. De cerfs au pieds venteux s'esbutre dessus l'eau," —
Prometheus bath put on Cupid's shape, by "O! what a sport, to see a heard of them
And I must perish in his burning arms : Take soyl in summer in some spacious stream!” Æneas, 0 Æneas, quench these flames !
p. 50, ed. 1641. And Petowe, in his Second Part of Hero and Leander, &c.
* fond) i. e. foolish. (see Appendix iii. to the present volume), has,
7 new fancy's shapes) i. e. new shapes of love. “The chased deere hath soile to coole his heate."
# The storm. Enter Æncas, &c.) So the old ed. far-fet o'er] Old ed. “far fet to :" fet, i, e. fetched. In $ where) i. e. whereas. our author's translation of the first Book of Lucan we have # Whenas) i. e. When. “far-fet story."
Prometheus] A quadrisyllable here.
Æn. What ails my queen ? is she falo sick of
late? Dido. Not sick, my love; but sick I must
conceal The torment that it boots me not reveal : And yet I'll speak,—and yet I'll hold my peace. llo shame her worst, I will disclose my grief: Eneas, thou art he—what did I say? Something it was that now I have forgot. Æn. What means fair Dido by this doubtful
speech? Dido. Nay, nothing; but Æneas loves me
not. Æn. Æneas' thoughts dare not ascend so high A8 Dido's heart, which monarchs might not
scale. Dido. It was because I saw no king like thee, Whose golden crown might balauce iny conteut; But now that I have found what to affect, * I follow one that loveth fame 'foret me, And rather bad seem fair (in) Sirens' eyes, Than to the Carthage queen that dies for bim.
Æn. 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,
And vow, by all the gods of hospitality,
Dido. Wbat more than Delian music do I hear,
As made disdain to fly to fancy'st lap!
(Gwing jewels, &c. These golden bracelets, and this wedding-ring, Wherewith my husband woo'd me yet a maid, And be thou king of Libya by my gift.
(Exeunt to the cave..
Enter ACHATES, I CUPID as ASCANIUS, IARBAS, and
ANNA. Ach. Did ever men see such a suddeu 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.
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. lar. Come forth the cave ! can heaven endure
this sight? Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove, Whose flinty darts slept in Typhæus' || den, Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin. Nature, why mad'st me not some poisonous
beast, That with sharpness of my edged sting I might have stak'd them both unto the earth, Whilst they were sporting in this darksome
* affect) i. e. love.-Old ed. "effect."
'fore) Old ed. " for." | Enter Achates, &c.] Scene, before the cave.
$ whenas) i. e. when.-The line is corruptod. “Read," Bays J. M. Gent. Magazine for Jan., 1841),
'One that can call them forth, c.'" But the corruption suems to lie in the word "them."
* Canys) The father of Anchises, and grandfather of fancy's] i. e. love's.
[Æneas. Exeunt to the cave) So the old ed. ;-i. e. They retire into the innermost part of the cave.
§ coil] i. e. stir, bustle.
Enter, from the cave, ÆNEAS and DIDO.
lar. Ay, Anna: is there aught you would with Æn. The air is clear, and southern winds are
Anna. Nay, no such weights business of Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,
import Since gloomy Æolus doth cease to frown.
But may be slack'd until another time: Dido. Achates and Ascanius, well met.
Yet, if you would partake with me the cause Æn. Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the
of this devotion that detaineth you, shower?
I would be thankful for such courtesy. Anna. As others did, by running to the wood.
lar. Adna, against this Trojan do I pray, Dido. But where were you, larbas, all this
Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love, while ?
And dive into her heart by colour'd looks. Iar. Not with Æneas in the ugly cave.
Anna. Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain Dido. I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind;
For her that so delighteth in thy pain ! But I will soon put by that stumbling-block,
Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love, And quell those hopes that thus employ your
Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief. cares.t
[E.reunt. lar. Mine eye is fix'd where faucy* cannot
start: Enter I ARBASto sacrifice.
0, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts, Iar. Come, servants, come; bring forth the That register the numbers of my ruth, sacrifice,
And I will either move the thoughtless fint, That I may pacify that gloomy Jove,
Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears, Whose empty altars have enlarg'd our ills.
Before my sorrow's tide have any stint ! [Servants bring in the sacrifice, and then excunt. Anna I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love, Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,
In this delight of dying pensiveness. Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts,
Away with Dido! Anna be thy song; That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven, Anna, that doth admire thee more than nearen. When airy creatures war amongst themselves ;
Iar. I may nor will list to such loathsome Hear, hear, 0, hear Iarbas' plaining $ prayers,
change, Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl,
That intercepts the course of my desire.And all the woods Eliza || to resound!
Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here; The woman that thou will'd us entertain,
For I will fly from these alluring eyes, Where, straying in our borders up and down, That do pursue my peace wbere'er it goes. She crav'd a hide of ground to build a town,
(Exit. -Servants re-enter, and carry out the
vessels, dc. With whom we did divide both laws and land,
Anna. Iarbas, stay, loving Iarbas, stay! And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth,
For I have honey to present tbee with. Scorning our loves and royal marriage-rites,
Hard-hearted, wilt not deigo to hear me speak? Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed; Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair.
I'll follow thee with outeries ne'ertheless, fled :
(Erit. Now, if thou be’st a pitying god of power, On whom ruth and compassion ever waits,
Hermes this night, descending in a dreamn,
Hath summon'd me to fruitful Italy; Anna. How now, Iarbas ! at your prayers 80 Jove wills it so; my mother wills it so: hard?
Let my Phænissa ß grant, and then I go.
whist) i. e. still + cares) Old ed. "eares.'
Enter Iarbas, &c ] Scene, an apartment in the dwelling of larbas.
$ plaining) i. e, complaining.
|| Blizai. e. Dido.-So, probably, our poet wrote: but it should be “Elissa ". “Nec me meminisse pigebit Elissa." Virgil, Æn. iv. 335.
* fancy) i. e. love.
thy) Old ed. "the."
Expleri mentem nequit ardescitque tu
endo Phanissa." Virgil, i. 670, 713.
Grant she or no, Æneas must away;
I fain would go, yet beauty calls me back:
Each word she says will then contain a crown,
I may not dure this female drudgery:
To sea, Æneas! find out Italy ! Ach. What wills our lord, or wherefore did he call ?
Enter DIDO and ANNA. Æn. The dream,* brave mates, that did beset
Dido. O Anna, run unto the water-side!
They say Æneas' men are going aboard ; When sleep but newly had embrac'd the night, It may be, he will steal away with them: Commands me leave these unrenowmèd t realms, I Stay not to answer me; run, Anna, run! Whereas & nobility abhors to stay,
(Erit ANNA. And none but base Æneas will abide.
O foolish Trojans, that would steal from hence,
And not let Dido understand their drift!
I would have given Achates store of gold,
And Ilioneus gum and Libyan spice; And follow them, as footmen, through the deep.
The common soldiers rich embroider'd coats, Yet Dido casts her eyes, like anchors, out,
And silver whistles to control the winds,
Which Circe I sent Sicbæus when he liv'd: To stay my fleet from loosing forth the bay: “Come back, come back," I hear her cry a-far,
Unworthy are they of a queen’s reward. “And let me link thy || body to my lips,
See, where they come: how might I do to chide? That, tied together by the striving tongues,
Re-enter ANNA, with ÆNEAS, ACHATES, CLOANTHUS, We may, as one, sail into | Italy."
ILIONEUS, SERGESTUS, and Carthaginian Lords. Ach. Banish that ticing dame from forth your
Anna. 'Twas time to run; Æueas had been mouth,
gone; And follow your fore-seeing stars in all:
The sails were hoising up, and he aboard. This is no life for men-at-arms to live,
Dido. Is this thy love to me? Where dalliance doth
Æn. O princely Dido, give me leave to speak ! strength, And wanton motions of alluring eyes
I went to take my farewell of Achates.
Dido. How haps Achates bid me not farewell? Effeminate our minds, inur'd to war.
Acha. Because I fear'd your grace would keep Ni. Why, let us build a city of our own,
me here. And not stand lingering here for amorous looks.
Dido. To rid thee of that doubt, aboard again : Will Dido raise old Priam forth his grave,
I charge thee put to sea, and stay not here. And build the town again the Greeks did burn?
Ach. Then let Æneas go aboard with us. No, no; she cares not how we sink or swim,
Dido. Get you aboard; Æneas means to stay. So she may have Æneas in her arms.
Æn. The sea is rough, the winds blow to the Clo. To Italy, sweet friends, to Italy !
shore. We will not stay a minute longer here.
Dido. O falee Æneas! now the sea is rough; Bn. Trojans, aboard, and I will follow you.
But, when you were aboard, 'twas calm enough: [Ercunt all except Æneas
Thou and Achates meant to sail away.
En. Hath not the Carthage queen mine only * dream] Old ed. "dreames." + unrenormed) i. e. unrenowned. See note (), p. 11. Thinks Dido I will go and leave him here?
I realms, Old ed. "beames,"-a mistake for " Teamca" > realmes: see note $. p. 170.
* coll) i. e. embrace (properly, round the neck). $ Wherens) i e. Where.
+ Enter Dido, &c.] Another apartment in Dido's I thy] Old ed. " 'my."
palace. Into) 1. e. unto. See note t, p. 15.
Circe) Old ed. "Circes" : see note *, p. 190.