Enter ACHATES, [CUPID dressed as] ASCANIUS, IARBAS, and ANNA.
ACHATES
Did ever men see such a sudden storm,
Or day so clear so suddenly o’ercast?
IARBAS
I think some fell enchantress dwelleth here
That can call them forth whenas she please,
And dive into black tempests’ treasury
Whenas she means to mask the world with clouds.
ANNA
In all my life I never knew the like.
It hailed, it snowed, it light’nèd, all at once.
ACHATES
I think it was the devils’ revelling night,
10 There was such hurly-burly in the heavens;
Doubtless Apollo’s axle-tree is cracked,
Or aged Atlas’ shoulder out of joint,
The motion was so over-violent.
IARBAS
In all this coil, where have ye left the queen?
CUPID
Nay, where’s my warlike father, can you tell?
[Enter DIDO and AENEAS.]
ANNA
Behold where both of them come forth the cave.
Come forth the cave? Can heaven endure this sight?
Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove,
Whose flinty darts slept in Typhoeus’ den
20 Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin.
Nature, why mad’st me not some poisonous beast,
That with the sharpness of my edgèd sting
I might have staked them both unto the earth,
Whil’st they were sporting in this darksome cave?
AENEAS
The air is clear and southern winds are whist.
Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,
Since gloomy Aeolus doth cease to frown.
DIDO
Achates and Ascanius, well met.
AENEAS
Fair Anna, how escaped you from the shower?
ANNA
30 As others did, by running to the wood.
DIDO
But where were you, Iarbas, all this while?
IARBAS
Not with Aeneas in the ugly cave.
DIDO
I see Aeneas sticketh in your mind,
But I will soon put by that stumbling-block,
And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.
Exeunt.
Enter IARBAS to sacrifice.
IARBAS
Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice,
That I may pacify that gloomy Jove
Whose empty altars have enlarged our ills.
[Enter SERVANTS with the sacrifice, then exeunt.]
Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,
Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts,
That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven
When airy creatures war amongst themselves,
Hear, hear, O hear Iarbas’ plaining prayers
Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl
10 And all the woods ‘Eliza’ to resound!
The woman that thou willed us entertain,
Where, straying in our borders up and down,
She craved a hide of ground to build a town,
With whom we did divide both laws and land
And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth,
Scorning our loves and royal marriage-rites,
Yields up her beauty to a stranger’s bed,
Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway fled.
Now, if thou be’st a pitying god of power,
20 On whom ruth and compassion ever waits,
Redress these wrongs and warn him to his ships,
That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.
Enter ANNA.
ANNA
How now, Iarbas, at your prayers so hard?
IARBAS
Ay, Anna, is there aught you would with me?
ANNA
Nay, no such weighty business of import
But may be slacked until another time.
Yet, if you would partake with me the cause
Of this devotion that detaineth you,
I would be thankful for such courtesy.
IARBAS
30 Anna, against this Trojan do I pray,
Who seeks to rob me of thy sister’s love
And dive into her heart by coloured looks.
ANNA
Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain
For her that so delighteth in thy pain!
Be ruled by me and seek some other love,
Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief.
IARBAS
Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start.
O leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts
That register the numbers of my ruth,
40 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!
IARBAS
I may nor will list to such loathsome change
That intercepts the course of my desire.
Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here,
50 For I will fly from these alluring eyes
That do pursue my peace where’er it goes.
Exit.
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’er the less
And strew thy walks with my dishevelled hair.
Exit.
Enter AENEAS alone.
AENEAS
Carthage, my friendly host, adieu,
Since destiny doth call me from the shore.
Hermes this night, descending in a dream,
Hath summoned me to fruitful Italy;
Jove wills it so, my mother wills it so;
Let my Phoenissa grant, and then I go.
Grant she or no, Aeneas must away,
Whose golden fortunes, clogged with courtly ease,
Cannot ascend to fame’s immortal house
10 Or banquet in bright honour’s burnished hall,
Till he hath furrowed Neptune’s glassy fields
And cut a passage through his topless hills.
Achates, come forth! Sergestus, Ilioneus,
Cloanthus, haste away! Aeneas calls!
Enter ACHATES, CLOANTHUS, SERGESTUS and ILIONEUS.
ACHATES
What wills our lord, or wherefore did he call?
AENEAS
The dreams, brave mates, that did beset my bed,
When sleep but newly had embraced the night,
Commands me leave these unrenownèd realms,
Whereas nobility abhors to stay,
20 And none but base Aeneas will abide.
Aboard, aboard, since Fates do bid aboard
And slice the sea with sable-coloured ships,
On whom the nimble winds may all day wait
And follow them as footmen through the deep!
Yet Dido casts her eyes like anchors out
To stay my fleet from loosing forth the bay.
‘Come back, come back!’ I hear her cry afar,
‘And let me link thy body to my lips,
That, tied together by the striving tongues,
30 We may as one sail into Italy!’
ACHATES
Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth
And follow your foreseeing stars in all.
This is no life for men-at-arms to live,
Where dalliance doth consume a soldier’s strength
And wanton motions of alluring eyes
Effeminate our minds inured to war.
Why, let us build a city of our own,
And not stand lingering here for amorous looks.
Will Dido raise old Priam forth his grave
40 And build the town again the Greeks did burn?
No, no, she cares not how we sink or swim,
So she may have Aeneas in her arms.
CLOANTHUS
To Italy, sweet friends, to Italy!
We will not stay a minute longer here.
AENEAS
Trojans, aboard, and I will follow you.
[Exeunt TROJANS; AENEAS remains.]
I fain would go, yet beauty calls me back.
To leave her so and not once say farewell
Were to transgress against all laws of love;
But if I use such ceremonious thanks
50 As parting friends accustom on the shore,
Her silver arms will coll me round about
And tears of pearl cry, ‘Stay, Aeneas, stay!’
Each word she says will then contain a crown,
And every speech be ended with a kiss.
I may not dure this female drudgery,
To sea, Aeneas, find out Italy!
Exit.
Enter DIDO and ANNA.
DIDO
O Anna, run unto the water side,
They say Aeneas’ men are going aboard;
It may be he will steal away with them.
Stay not to answer me! Run, Anna, run!
[Exit ANNA.]
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;
The common soldiers rich embroidered coats
10 And silver whistles to control the winds,
Which Circe sent Sichaeus when he lived;
Unworthy are they of a queen’s reward.
See where they come; how might I do to chide?
Enter ANNA, with AENEAS, ACHATES, ILIONEUS, SERGESTUS [and ATTENDANTS].
ANNA
’Twas time to run. Aeneas had been gone;
The sails were hoising up and he aboard.
DIDO
Is this thy love to me?
AENEAS
O princely Dido, give me leave to speak;
I went to take my farewell of Achates.
DIDO
How haps Achates bid me not farewell?
ACHATES
20 Because I feared your grace would keep me here.
DIDO
To rid thee of that doubt, aboard again;
I charge thee put to sea and stay not here.
ACHATES
Then let Aeneas go aboard with us.
DIDO
Get you aboard, Aeneas means to stay.
AENEAS
The sea is rough, the winds blow to the shore.
DIDO
O false Aeneas, now the sea is rough,
But when you were aboard ’twas calm enough!
Thou and Achates meant to sail away.
AENEAS
Hath not the Carthage Queen mine only son?
30 Thinks Dido I will go and leave him here?
Aeneas, pardon me, for I forgot
That young Ascanius lay with me this night.
Love made me jealous, but, to make amends,
Wear the imperial crown of Libya,
Sway thou the Punic sceptre in my stead,
And punish me, Aeneas, for this crime.
[DIDO gives AENEAS the crown and sceptre.]
AENEAS
This kiss shall be fair Dido’s punishment.
DIDO
O, how a crown becomes Aeneas’ head!
Stay here, Aeneas, and command as king.
AENEAS
40 How vain am I to wear this diadem
And bear this golden sceptre in my hand!
A burgonet of steel and not a crown,
A sword and not a sceptre fits Aeneas.
DIDO
O, keep them still, and let me gaze my fill.
Now looks Aeneas like immortal Jove;
O, where is Ganymede to hold his cup
And Mercury to fly for what he calls?
Ten thousand Cupids hover in the air
And fan it in Aeneas’ lovely face!
50 O that the clouds were here wherein thou fled’st,
That thou and I unseen might sport ourselves!
Heavens, envious of our joys, is waxen pale,
And when we whisper, then the stars fall down
To be partakers of our honey talk.
AENEAS
O Dido, patroness of all our lives,
When I leave thee, death be my punishment!
Swell, raging seas, frown, wayward Destinies;
Blow winds, threaten, ye rocks and sandy shelves!
This is the harbour that Aeneas seeks,
60 Let’s see what tempests can annoy me now.
Not all the world can take thee from mine arms.
Aeneas may command as many Moors
As in the sea are little water drops.
And now, to make experience of my love,
Fair sister Anna, lead my lover forth
And, seated on my jennet, let him ride
As Dido’s husband through the Punic streets,
And will my guard, with Mauritanian darts,
To wait upon him as their sovereign lord.
ANNA
70 What if the citizens repine thereat?
DIDO
Those that dislike what Dido gives in charge,
Command my guard to slay for their offence.
Shall vulgar peasants storm at what I do?
The ground is mine that gives them sustenance,
The air wherein they breathe, the water, fire,
All that they have, their lands, their goods, their lives;
And I, the goddess of all these, command
Aeneas ride as Carthaginian king.
ACHATES
Aeneas, for his parentage, deserves
80 As large a kingdom as is Libya.
AENEAS
Ay, and unless the Destinies be false,
I shall be planted in as rich a land.
DIDO
Speak of no other land, this land is thine,
Dido is thine; henceforth I’ll call thee lord.
[To ANNA]
Do as I bid thee, sister, lead the way,
And from a turret I’ll behold my love.
AENEAS
Then here in me shall flourish Priam’s race,
And thou and I, Achates, for revenge
For Troy, for Priam, for his fifty sons,
90 Our kinsmen’s loves and thousand guiltless souls
Will lead an host against the hateful Greeks
And fire proud Lacedaemon o’er their heads.
Exit [AENEAS, with the TROJANS].
DIDO
Speaks not Aeneas like a conqueror?
O blessed tempests that did drive him in!
O happy sand that made him run aground!
Henceforth you shall be our Carthage gods.
Ay, but it may be he will leave my love
And seek a foreign land called Italy.
O that I had a charm to keep the winds
100 Within the closure of a golden ball,
Or that the Tyrrhene Sea were in mine arms
That he might suffer shipwrack on my breast
As oft as he attempts to hoist up sail!
I must prevent him, wishing will not serve.
Go, bid my nurse take young Ascanius
And bear him in the country to her house;
Aeneas will not go without his son.
Yet, lest he should, for I am full of fear,
Bring me his oars, his tackling, and his sails.
[Exeunt ATTENDANTS.]
110 What if I sink his ships? O, he’ll frown!
Better he frown than I should die for grief.
I cannot see him frown, it may not be.
Armies of foes resolved to win this town,
Or impious traitors vowed to have my life,
Affright me not: only Aeneas’ frown
Is that which terrifies poor Dido’s heart.
Not bloody spears, appearing in the air,
Presage the downfall of my empery,
Nor blazing comets threatens Dido’s death:
120 It is Aeneas’ frown that ends my days.
If he forsake me not, I never die,
For in his looks I see eternity,
And he’ll make me immortal with a kiss.
Enter a LORD [with ATTENDANTS carrying oars, tackling and sails].
LORD
Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius,
And here’s Aeneas’ tackling, oars, and sails.
DIDO
Are these the sails that, in despite of me,
Packed with the winds to bear Aeneas hence?
I’ll hang ye in the chamber where I lie.
Drive, if you can, my house to Italy:
130 I’ll set the casement open, that the winds
May enter in and once again conspire
Against the life of me, poor Carthage queen;
But, though he go, he stays in Carthage still,
And let rich Carthage fleet upon the seas,
So I may have Aeneas in mine arms.
Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plains,
And would be toiling in the watery billows
To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest?
O cursèd tree, hadst thou but wit or sense
140 To measure how I prize Aeneas’ love,
Thou wouldst have leapt from out the sailors’ hands
And told me that Aeneas meant to go!
And yet I blame thee not, thou art but wood.
The water, which our poets term a nymph,
Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast
And shrunk not back, knowing my love was there?
The water is an element, no nymph.
Why should I blame Aeneas for his flight?
O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars,
150 These were the instruments that launched him forth.
There’s not so much as this base tackling too
But dares to heap up sorrow to my heart.
Was it not you that hoisèd up these sails?
Why burst you not and they fell in the seas?
For this will Dido tie ye full of knots,
And shear ye all asunder with her hands.
Now serve to chastise shipboys for their faults,
Ye shall no more offend the Carthage queen.
Now let him hang my favours on his masts
160 And see if those will serve instead of sails;
For tackling, let him take the chains of gold
Which I bestowed upon his followers;
Instead of oars, let him use his hands
And swim to Italy. I’ll keep these sure;
Come, bear them in.
Exeunt.
Enter the NURSE, with CUPID for ASCANIUS.
NURSE
My Lord Ascanius, ye must go with me.
CUPID
Whither must I go? I’ll stay with my mother.
NURSE
No, thou shalt go with me unto my house.
I have an orchard that hath store of plums,
Brown almonds, services, ripe figs, and dates,
Dewberries, apples, yellow oranges;
A garden where are bee-hives full of honey,
Musk-roses and a thousand sort of flowers,
And in the midst doth run a silver stream,
10 Where thou shalt see the red-gilled fishes leap,
White swans, and many lovely water-fowls.
Now speak, Ascanius, will ye go or no?
CUPID
Come, come, I’ll go; how far hence is your house?
NURSE
But hereby, child; we shall get thither straight.
CUPID
Nurse, I am weary; will you carry me?
Ay, so you’ll dwell with me and call me mother.
CUPID
So you’ll love me, I care not if I do.
NURSE
That I might live to see this boy a man!
How prettily he laughs! Go, ye wag,
20 You’ll be a twigger when you come to age.
Say Dido what she will, I am not old;
I’ll be no more a widow, I am young;
I’ll have a husband, or else a lover.
CUPID A husband, and no teeth?
NURSE
O what mean I to have such foolish thoughts!
Foolish is love, a toy. O sacred love,
If there be any heaven in earth, ’tis love,
Especially in women of our years.
Blush, blush for shame, why shouldst thou think of love?
30 A grave and not a lover fits thy age.
A grave? Why? I may live a hundred years:
Fourscore is but a girl’s age, love is sweet.
My veins are withered and my sinews dry,
Why do I think of love, now I should die?
CUPID Come, nurse.
NURSE
Well, if he come a-wooing, he shall speed:
O how unwise was I to say him nay!
Exeunt.