Czcionka:Mniejsze АаWiększe Aa
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?
Dido. Ile frame me wings of waxe like Icarus,
And ore his ships will soare vnto the Sunne,
That they may melt and I fall in his armes:
Or els Ile make a prayer vnto the waues,
That I may swim to him like Tritons neece:
O Anna, fetch Orions Harpe,
That I may tice a Dolphin to the shoare,
And ride vpon his backe vnto my loue:
Looke sister, looke louely Æneas ships,
See see, the billowes heaue him vp to heauen,
And now downe falles the keeles into the deepe:
O sister, sister, take away the Rockes,
Theile breake his ships, O Proteus, Neptune, Ioue,