Classic Poem

SCENE ONE

   Enter ÆNEAS , with a paper in his band, drawing the platform of the city ; ACHATES , SERGESTUS , CLOANTHUS , and ILIONEUS . ÆNEAS :
Triumph, my mates! Our travels are at end:
 Here will Æneas build a statelier Troy
 Than that which grim Atrides overthrew.
 Carthage shall vaunt her petty walls no more;
 For I will grace them with a fairer frame,
 And clad her in a crystal livery,
 Wherein the day may evermore delight.
 From golden India Ganges will I fetch,
 Whose wealthy streams may wait upon her towers,
 And triple-wise entrench her round about;
 The sun from Egypt shall rich odours bring,
 Wherewith his burning beams (like labouring bees
 That load their thighs with Hybla's honey's spoils)
 Shall here unburden their exhaled sweets,
 And plant our pleasant suburbs with their fumes. ACHATES :
What length or breadth shall this brave town contain? ÆNEAS :
Not past four thousand paces at the most. ILIONEUS :
But what shall it be call'd? Troy, as before? ÆNEAS :
That have I not determin'd with myself. CLOANTHUS :
Let it be term'd Ænea, by your name. SERGESTUS :
Rather Ascania, by your little son. ÆNEAS :
Nay, I will have it called Anchisæon,
 Of my old father's name.
   Enter HERMES with ASCANIUS . HERMES :
Æneas, stay; Jove's herald bids thee stay. ÆNEAS :
Whom do I see? Jove's winged messenger!
 Welcome to Carthage' new-erected town. HERMES :
Why cousin, stand you building cities here,
 And beautifying the empire of this queen,
 While Italy is clean out of thy mind?
 Too-too forgetful of thine own affairs,
 Why wilt thou so betray thy son's good hap?
 The king of gods sent me from highest heaven,
 To sound this angry message in thine ears:
 Vain man, what monarchy expect'st thou here?
 Or with what thought sleep'st thou in Libya shore?
 If that all glory hath forsaken thee,
 And thou despise the praise of such attempts,
 Yet think upon Ascanius' prophecy,
 And young Iulus' more than thousand years,
 Whom I have brought from Ida, where he slept,
 And bore young Cupid unto Cyprus isle. ÆNEAS :
This was my mother that beguil'd the queen.
 And made me take my brother for my son.
 No marvel, Dido, though thou be in love,
 That daily dandlest Cupid in thy arms.
 Welcome, sweet child: where hast thou been this long? ASCANIUS :
Eating sweet comfits with Queen Dido's maid,
 Who ever since hath lull'd me in her arms. ÆNEAS :
Sergestus, bear him hence unto our ships,
 Lest Dido, spying him, keep him for a pledge.
   Exit SERGESTUS with ASCANIUS . HERMES :
Spend'st thou thy time about this little boy,
 And giv'st not ear unto the charge I bring?
 I tell thee, thou must straight to Italy,
 Or else abide the wrath of frowning Jove.
   Exit . ÆNEAS :
How should I put into the raging deep,
 Who have no sails nor tackling for my ships?
 What, would the gods have me, Deucalion-like,
 Float up and down where'er the billows drive?
 Though she repair'd my fleet and gave me ships,
 Yet hath she ta'en away my oars and masts,
 And left me neither sail nor stern aboard.
   Enter IARBAS . IARBAS :
How now, Æneas! Sad? what mean these dumps? ÆNEAS :
Iarbas, I am clean besides myself;
 Jove hath heap'd on me such a desperate charge,
 Which neither art nor reason may achieve,
 Nor I devise by what means to contrive. IARBAS :
As how, I pray? May I entreat you tell? ÆNEAS :
With speed he bids me sail to Italy,
 Whenas I want both rigging for my fleet,
 And also furniture for these my men. IARBAS :
If that be all, then cheer thy drooping looks,
 For I will furnish thee with such supplies.
 Let some of those thy followers go with me,
 And they shall have what thing soe'er thou need'st. ÆNEAS :
Thanks, good Iarbas, for thy friendly aid.
 Achates and the rest shall wait on thee,
 Whilst I rest thankful for this courtesy.
   Exeunt all except ÆNEAS .
 Now will I haste unto Lavinian shore,
 And raise a new foundation to old Troy.
 Witness the gods, and witness heaven and earth,
 How loath I am to leave these Libyan bounds,
 But that eternal Jupiter commands!
   Enter DIDO . DIDO ( aside ):
I fear I saw Æneas' little son
 Led by Achates to the Trojan fleet.
 If it be so, his father means to fly: –
 But here he is; now, Dido, try thy wit. –
 Æneas, wherefore go thy men aboard?
 Why are thy ships new-rigg'd? or to what end,
 Launch'd from the haven, lie they in the road?
 Pardon me, though I ask; love makes me ask. ÆNEAS :
O pardon me, if I resolve thee why!
 Æneas will not feign with his dear love.
 I must from hence: this day, swift Mercury,
 When I was laying a platform for these walls,
 Sent from his father Jove, appear'd to me,
 And in his name rebuk'd me bitterly
 For lingering here, neglecting Italy. DIDO :
But yet Æneas will not leave his love. ÆNEAS :
I am commanded by immortal Jove
 To leave this town and pass to Italy;
 And therefore must of force. DIDO :
These words proceed not from Æneas' heart. ÆNEAS :
Not from my heart, for I can hardly go;
 And yet I may not stay. Dido, farewell. DIDO :
Farewell! Is this the 'mends for Dido's love?
 Do Trojans use to quit their lovers thus?
 Fare well may Dido, so Æneas stay;
 I die, if my Æneas say farewell; ÆNEAS :
Then let me go, and never say farewell. DIDO :
'Let me go; farewell; I must from hence.'
 These words are poison to poor Dido's soul:
 O, speak like my Æneas, like my love!
 Why look'st thou toward the sea? The time hath been
 When Dido's beauty chain'd thine eyes to her.
 Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first?
 O, then, Æneas, 'tis for grief of thee!
 Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy queen,
 And Dido's beauty will return again.
 Æneas, say, how canst thou take thy leave?
 Wilt thou kiss Dido? O, thy lips have sworn
 To stay with Dido! Canst thou take her hand?
 Thy hand and mine have plighted mutual faith;
 Therefore, unkind Æneas, must thou say,
 'Then let me go, and never say farewell'? ÆNEAS :
O queen of Carthage, wert thou ugly-black,
 Æneas could not choose but hold thee dear!
 Yet must he not gainsay the gods' behest. DIDO :
The gods? What gods be those that seek my death?
 Wherein have I offended Jupiter,
 That he should take Æneas from mine arms?
 O, no! the gods weigh not what lovers do:
 It is Æneas calls Æneas hence,
 And woful Dido, by these blubber'd cheeks,
 By this right hand, and by our spousal rites,
 Desires Æneas to remain with her.
  Si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam
  Dulco meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam,
  Oro, si quis adhuc precibus locus, exue mentem. ÆNEAS :
Desine meque tuis incendere teque querelis;
  Italiam non sponte sequor. DIDO :
Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings
 Were up in arms, for making thee my love?
 How Carthage did rebel, Iarbas storm,
 And all the world calls me a second Helen,
 For being entangled by a stranger's looks?
 So thou wouldst prove as true as Paris did,
 Would, as fair Troy was, Carthage might be sack'd,
 And I be call'd a second Helena!
 Had I a son by thee, the grief were less,
 That I might see Æneas in his face.
 Now if thou go'st, what canst thou leave behind,
 But rather will augment than ease my woe? ÆNEAS :
In vain, my love, thou spend'st thy fainting breath:
 If words might move me, I were overcome. DIDO :
And wilt thou not be mov'd with Dido's words?
 Thy mother was no goddess, perjur'd man,
 Nor Dardanus the author of thy stock;
 But thou art sprung from Scythian Caucasus,
 And tigers of Hyrcania gave thee suck.
 Ah, foolish Dido, to forbear this long!
 Wast thou not wrack'd upon this Libyan shore,
 And cam'st to Dido like a fisher swain?
 Repair'd not I thy ships, made thee a king,
 And all thy needy followers noblemen?
 O serpent, that came creeping from the shore,
 And I for pity harbour'd in my bosom,
 Wilt thou now slay me with thy venom'd sting,
 And hiss at Dido for preserving thee?
 Go, go, and spare not; seek out Italy:
 I hope that that which love forbids me do,
 The rocks and sea-gulfs will perform at large,
 And thou shalt perish in the billows' ways,
 To whom poor Dido doth bequeath revenge.
 Ay, traitor! and the waves shall cast thee up,
 Where thou and false Achates first set foot;
 Which if it chance, I'll give ye burial,
 And weep upon your lifeless carcasses,
 Though thou nor he will pity me a whit.
 Why star'st thou in my face? If thou wilt stay,
 Leap in mine arms; mine arms are open wide;
 If not, turn from me, and I'll turn from thee;
 For though thou hast the heart to say farewell,
 I have not power to stay thee.
   Exit ÆNEAS .

Is he gone?
 Ay, but he'll come again. He cannot go;
 He loves me too-too well to serve me so:
 Yet he that in my sight would not relent,
 Will, being absent, be obdurate still.
 By this is he got to the water-side;
 And, see, the sailors take him by the hand;
 But he shrinks back; and now, remembering me,
 Returns amain: welcome, welcome, my love!
 But where's Æneas? Ah, he's gone, he's gone!
   Enter ANNA . ANNA :
What means my sister, thus to rave and cry? DIDO :
O Anna, my Æneas is aboard,
 And, leaving me, will sail to Italy!
 Once didst thou go, and he came back again:
 Now bring him back, and thou shalt be a queen,
 And I will live a private life with him. ANNA :
Wicked Æneas! DIDO :
Call him not wicked, sister: speak him fair,
 And look upon him with a mermaid's eye.
 Tell him, I never vow'd at Aulis' gulf
 The desolation of his native Troy,
 Nor sent a thousand ships unto the walls,
 Nor ever violated faith to him.
 Request him gently, Anna, to return:
 I crave but this, – he stay a tide or two,
 That I may learn to bear it patiently;
 If he depart thus suddenly, I die.
 Run, Anna, run; stay not to answer me. ANNA :
I go, fair sister: heavens grant good success!
   Exit .
   Enter NURSE . NURSE :
O Dido, your little son Ascanius
 Is gone! He lay with me last night,
 And in the morning he was stoln from me:
 I think, some fairies have beguiled me. DIDO :
O cursed hag and false dissembling wretch,
 That slay'st me with thy harsh and hellish tale!
 Thou for some petty gift hast let him go,
 And I am thus deluded of my boy.
 Away with her to prison presently,
   Enter ATTENDANTS .
 Trait'ress to kind, and cursed sorceress! NURSE :
I know not what you mean by treason, I;
 I am as true as any one of yours. DIDO :
Away with her! Suffer her not to speak.
   Exit NURSE with ATTENDANTS .
 My sister comes: I like not her sad looks.
   Re-enter ANNA . ANNA :
Before I came, Æneas was aboard,
 And, spying me, hois'd up the sails amain;
 But I cried out, 'Æneas, false Æneas, stay!'
 Then gan he wag his hand, which, yet held up,
 Made me suppose he would have heard me speak
 Then gan they drive into the ocean:
 Which when I view'd, I cried, 'Æneas, stay!
 Dido, fair Dido wills Æneas stay!'
 Yet he, whose heart of adamant or flint,
 My tears nor plaints could mollify a whit –
 Then carelessly I rent my hair for grief:
 Which seen to all, though he beheld me not,
 They gan to move him to redress my ruth,
 And stay a while to hear what I could say;
 But he, clapp'd under hatches, sail'd away. DIDO :
O Anna, Anna, I will follow him! ANNA :
How can ye go, when he hath all your fleet? DIDO :
I'll frame me wings of wax, like Icarus,
 And, o'er his ships, will soar unto the sun,
 That they may melt, and I fall in his arms;
 Or else I'll make a prayer unto the waves,
 That I may swim to him, like Triton's niece.
 O Anna, fetch Arion's harp,
 That I may tice a dolphin to the shore,
 And ride upon his back unto my love!
 Look, sister, look! lovely Æneas' ships!
 See, see, the billows heave him up to heaven,
 And now down falls the keels into the deep!
 O sister, sister, take away the rocks!
 They'll break his ships. O Proteus, Neptune, Jove,
 Save, save Æneas, Dido's liefest love!
 Now is he come on shore, safe without hurt:
 But see, Achates wills him put to sea,
 And all the sailors merry-make for joy;
 But he, remembering me, shrinks back again.
 See, where he comes! Welcome, welcome, my love! ANNA :
Ah, sister, leave these idle fantasies!
 Sweet sister, cease; remember who you are. DIDO :
Dido I am, unless I be deceiv'd:
 And must I rave thus for a runagate?
 Must I make ships for him to sail away?
 Nothing can bear me to him but a ship,
 And he hath all my fleet. – What shall I do,
 But die in fury of this oversight?
 Ay, I must be the murderer of myself:
 No, but I am not; yet I will be straight.
 Anna, be glad; now have I found a mean
 To rid me from these thoughts of lunacy:
 Not far from hence
 There is a woman famoused for arts,
 Daughter unto the nymphs Hesperides,
 Who will'd me sacrifice his ticing relics.
 Go, Anna, bid my servants bring me fire.
   Exit ANNA .
   Enter IARBAS . IARBAS :
How long will Dido mourn a stranger's flight
 That hath dishonour'd her and Carthage both?
 How long shall I with grief consume my days,
 And reap no guerdon for my truest love?
   Enter ATTENDANTS with wood and torches. DIDO :
Iarbas, talk not of Æneas. Let him go!
 Lay to thy hands, and help me make a fire,
 That shall consume all that this stranger left;
 For I intend a private sacrifice,
 To cure my mind, that melts for unkind love. IARBAS :
But, afterwards, will Dido grant me love? DIDO :
Ay, ay, Iarbas; after this is done,
 None in the world shall have my love but thou.
   They make a fire.
 So, leave me now; let none approach this place.
   Exeunt IARBAS and ATTENDANTS .
 Now, Dido, with these relics burn thyself,
 And make Æneas famous through the world
 For perjury and slaughter of a queen.
 Here lie the sword that in the darksome cave
 He drew, and swore by, to be true to me.
 Thou shalt burn first; thy crime is worse than his.
 Here lie the garment which I cloth'd him in
 When first he came on shore: perish thou too.
 These letters, lines, and perjur'd papers, all
 Shall burn to cinders in this precious flame.
 And now, ye gods, that guide the starry frame,
 And order all things at your high dispose,
 Grant, though the traitors land in Italy,
 They may be still tormented with unrest;
 And from mine ashes let a conqueror rise,
 That may revenge this treason to a queen
 By ploughing up his countries with the sword!
 Betwixt this land and that be never league;
  Litora litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas
  Imprecor, arma armis; pugnent ipsique nepotes!
 Live, false Æneas! Truest Dido dies;
  Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras.
   Throws herself into the flames.
   Re-enter ANNA . ANNA :
O, help, Iarbas! Dido in these flames
 Hath burnt herself! Ay me, unhappy me!
   Re-enter IARBAS , running . IARBAS :
Cursed Iarbas, die to expiate
 The grief that tires upon thine inward soul! –
 Dido, I come to thee. – Ay me, Æneas!
   Kills himself . ANNA :
What can my tears or cries prevail me now?
 Dido is dead!
 Iarbas slain, Iarbas my dear love!
 O sweet Iarbas, Anna's sole delight!
 What fatal Destiny envies me thus,
 To see my sweet Iarbas slay himself?
 But Anna now shall honour thee in death,
 And mix her blood with thine. This shall I do,
 That gods and men may pity this my death,
 And rue our ends, senseless of life or breath:
 Now, sweet Iarbas, stay! I come to thee.
   Kills herself .