Classic Poem

SCENE ONE

   Enter ACHATES, CUPID 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 tempest's treasury,
 Whenas she means to mask the world with clouds. ANNA :
In all my life I never knew the like;
 It hailed, it snow'd, it lighten'd, all at once. ACHATES :
I think it was the devils' revelling night,
 There was such hurly-burly in the heavens.
 Doubtless Apollo's axle-tree is crack'd,
 Or aged Atlas' shoulder out of joint,
 The motion was so over-violent. IARBAS :
In all this coil, where have ye left the queen? ASCANIUS :
Nay, where's my warlike father, can you tell? ANNA :
Behold where both of them come forth the cave. IARBAS :
Come forth the cave? Can heaven endure this sight?
 Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove,
 Whose flinty darts slept in Typhoeus' den,
 Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin.
 Nature, why mad'st me not some poisonous beast,
 That with the sharpness of my edged sting
 I might have stak'd them both unto the earth,
 Whilst they were sporting in this darksome cave?
   Enter, from the cave , ÆNEAS and DIDO . ÆNEAS :
The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.
 Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,
 Since gloomy Æolus doth cease to frown. DIDO :
Achates and Ascanius, well met. ÆNEAS :
Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the shower? ANNA :
As others did, by running to the wood. DIDO :
But where were you, Iarbas, all this while? IARBAS :
Not with Æneas in the ugly cave. DIDO :
I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind;
 But I will soon put by that stumbling-block,
 And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.
   Exeunt .

SCENE TWO

   Enter IARBAS to sacrifice . IARBAS :
Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice,
 That I may pacify that gloomy Jove,
 Whose empty altars have enlarg'd our ills. SERVANTS
bring in the sacrifice, and 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,
 And all the woods Eliza to resound!
 The woman that thou will'd us entertain,
 Where, staying in our borders up and down,
 She crav'd 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,
 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 slack'd 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 :
Anna, against this Trojan do I pray,
 Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love,
 And dive into her heart by colour'd looks. ANNA :
Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain
 For her that so delighteth in thy pain!
 Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love,
 Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief. IARBAS :
Mine eye is fix'd where fancy cannot start:
 O, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts,
 That register the numbers of my ruth,
 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;
 For I will fly from these alluring eyes,
 That do pursue my peace where'er it goes.
   Exit . SERVANTS re-enter, and carry out the vessels, etc . 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'ertheless,
 And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair.
   Exit .

SCENE THREE

   Enter ÆNEAS . ÆNEAS :
Carthage, my friendly host, adieu!
 Since destiny doth call me from the shore:
 Hermes this night, descending in a dream,
 Hath summon'd 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, Æneas must away;
 Whose golden fortunes, clogg'd with courtly ease,
 Cannot ascend to Fame's immortal house,
 Or banquet in bright Honour's burnish'd hall,
 Till he hath furrow'd Neptune's glassy fields,
 And cut a passage through his topless hills.
 Achates, come forth! Sergestus, Ilioneus,
 Cloanthus, haste away! Æneas calls.
   Enter ACHATES, CLOANTHUS, SERGESTUS , and ILIONEUS . ACHATES :
What wills our lord, or wherefore did he call? ÆNEAS :
The dreams, brave mates, that did beset my bed,
 When sleep but newly had embrac'd the night,
 Commands me leave these unrenowmed reams,
 Whereas nobility abhors to stay,
 And none but base Æneas 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 a-far,
 'And let me link my body to thy lips,
 That, tied together by the striving tongues,
 We may, as one, sail into Italy.' ACHATES :
Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth,
 And follow your fore-seeing 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
 Effiminate our minds, inur'd to war. ILIONEUS :
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,
 And build the town again the Greeks did burn?
 No, no; she cares not how we sink or swim,
 So she may have Æneas in her arms. CLOANTHUS :
To Italy, sweet friends, to Italy!
 We will not stay a minute longer here. ÆNEAS :
Trojans, aboard, and I will follow you.
   Exeunt all except ÆNEAS .
 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
 As parting friends accustom on the shore,
 Her silver arms will coll me round about,
 And tears of pearl cry, 'Stay, Æneas, 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, Æneas! find out Italy!
   Exit.

SCENE FOUR

   Enter DIDO and ANNA . DIDO :
O Anna, run unto the water side!
 They say Æneas' 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 embroider'd coats,
 And silver whistles to control the winds,
 Which Circes sent Sichaeus when he liv'd;
 Unworthy are they of a queen's reward.
 See, where they come: how might I do to chide?
   Re-enter ANNA , with ÆNEAS , ACHATES , CLOANTHUS , ILIONEUS , SERGESTUS , and CARTHAGINIAN LORDS . ANNA :
'Twas time to run. Æneas had been gone;
 The sails were hoising up, and he aboard. DIDO :
Is this thy love to me? ÆNEAS :
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 :
Because I fear'd 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 Æneas go aboard with us. DIDO :
Get you aboard; Æneas means to stay. ÆNEAS :
The sea is rough, the winds blow to the shore. DIDO :
O false Æneas! Now the sea is rough;
 But when you were aboard 'twas calm enough:
 Thou and Achates meant to sail away. ÆNEAS :
Hath not the Carthage queen mine only son?
 Thinks Dido I will go and leave him here? DIDO :
Æneas, 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,
   Giving him her crown and sceptre.
 Sway thou the Punic sceptre in my stead,
 And punish me, Æneas, for this crime. ÆNEAS :
This kiss shall be fair Dido's punishment. DIDO :
O, how a crown becomes Æneas' head!
 Stay here, Æneas, and command as king. ÆNEAS :
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 Æneas. DIDO :
O keep them still, and let me gaze my fill!
 Now looks Æneas 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 Æneas' lovely face!
 O that the clouds were here wherein thou fled'st,
 That thou and I unseen might sport ourselves!
 Heaven, envious of our joys, is waxen pale;
 And when we whisper, then the stars fall down,
 To be partakers of our honey talk. ÆNEAS :
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 Æneas seeks:
 Let's see what tempests can annoy me now. DIDO :
Not all the world can take thee from mine arms.
 Æneas 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 :
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
 Æneas ride as Carthaginian king. ACHATES :
Æneas, for his parentage, deserves
 As large a kingdom as is Libya. ÆNEAS :
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.
 Do as I bid thee, sister; lead the way;
 And from a turret I'll behold my love. ÆNEAS :
Then here in me shall flourish Priam's race;
 And thou and I, Achates, for revenge
 For Troy, for Priam, for his fifty sons,
 Our kinsmen's lives and thousand guiltless souls,
 Will lead an host against the hateful Greeks,
 And fire proud Lacedaemon o'er their heads.
   Exeunt all except DIDO and CARTHAGINIAN LORDS . DIDO :
Speaks not Æneas 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 call'd Italy.
 O that I had a charm to keep the winds
 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;
 Æneas 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.
   Exit FIRST LORD .
 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 resolv'd to win this town,
 Or impious traitors vow'd to have my life,
 Affright me not; only Æneas' 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;
 It is Æneas' 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.
   Re-enter FIRST LORD , with ATTENDANTS carrying tackling, etc . FIRST LORD :
Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius;
 And here's Æneas' tackling, oars, and sails. DIDO :
Are these the sails that, in despite of me,
 Pack'd with the winds to bear Æneas hence?
 I'll hang ye in the chamber where I lie;
 Drive, if you can, my house to Italy.
 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 ye go, he stays in Carthage still;
 And let rich Carthage fleet upon the seas,
 So I may have Æneas 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 cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense,
 To measure how I prize Æneas' love,
 Thou wouldst have leapt from out the sailors' hands,
 And told me that Æneas 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 Æneas for his flight?
 O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars!
 These were the instruments that launch'd 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 hoised 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,
 And see if those will serve instead of sails;
 For tackling, let him take the chains of gold
 Which I bestow'd 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 .

SCENE FIVE

   Enter NURSE , with CUPID as 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,
 Where thou shalt see the red-gill'd fishes leap,
 White swans, and many lovely water-fowls.
 Now speak, Ascanius, will you 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? NURSE :
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, you wag!
 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, I, 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 your years. –
 Blush, blush for shame! why shouldst thou think of love?
 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 wither'd, 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 .