_Dido._ Not anger"d me, except in angering thee.

_aen._ Who, then, of all so cruel may he be That should detain thy eye in his defects?

_Dido._ The man that I do eye where"er I am; Whose amorous face, like Paean, sparkles fire, Whenas he b.u.t.ts his beams on Flora"s bed. 20 Prometheus hath put on Cupid"s shape, And I must perish in his burning arms: aeneas, O aeneas, quench these flames!

_aen._ What ails my queen? is she faln 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.

Do shame her worst, I will disclose my grief: aeneas, thou art he--what did I say?

Something it was that now I have forgot. 30

_aen._ What means fair Dido by this doubtful speech?

_Dido._ Nay, nothing; but aeneas loves me not.

_aen._ aeneas" thoughts dare not ascend so high As Dido"s heart, which monarchs might not scale.

_Dido._ It was because I saw no king like thee, Whose golden crown might balance my content; But now that I have found what to affect, I follow one that loveth fame "fore[507] me, And rather had seem fair [in] Sirens" eyes, Than to the Carthage queen that dies for him. 40

_aen._ 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 G.o.ds of hospitality, By heaven and earth, and my fair brother"s bow, By Paphos, Capys,[508] and the purple sea From whence my radiant mother did ascend,[509]

And by this sword that sav"d me from the Greeks, Never to leave these new-upreared walls, Whiles Dido lives and rules in Juno"s town,-- 50 Never to like or love any but her!

_Dido._ What more than Delian music do I hear, That calls my soul from forth his living seat To move unto the measures of delight?

Kind clouds, that sent forth such a courteous storm As made disdain to fly to fancy"s lap!

Stout love, in mine arms make thy Italy, Whose crown and kingdom rests at thy command: Sichaeus, not aeneas, be thou call"d; The king of Carthage, not Anchises" son. 60 Hold, take these jewels at thy lover"s hand, [_Giving 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._

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

_Enter_[510] ACHATES, CUPID _as_ ASCANIUS, IARBAS, _and_ ANNA.

_Ach._ Did ever men see such a sudden storm Or day so clear so suddenly o"ercast?

_Iar._ I think some fell enchantress dwelleth here, That can call them[511] 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 snowed, it lightened all at once.

_Ach._ I think, it was the devil"s revelling night, There was such hurly-burly in the heavens: 10 Doubtless Apollo"s axle-tree is crack"d, Or aged 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.

_Iar._ Come forth the cave! can heaven endure this sight?

Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove, Whose flinty darts slept in Typhoeus"[512] den, Whiles these adulterers surfeited with sin. 20 Nature, why mad"st me not some poisonous beast, That with the sharpness of my edged sting I might have staked them both unto the earth, Whilst they were sporting in this darksome cave! [_Aside._

_Enter, from the cave_, aeNEAS _and_ DIDO.

_aen._ The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.[513]

Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town, Since gloomy aeolus doth cease to frown.

_Dido._ Achates and Ascanius, well met.

_aen._ Fair Anna, how escap"d you from the shower?

_Anna._ As others did, by running to the wood. 30

_Dido._ But where were you, Iarbas, all this while?

_Iar._ 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.[514]

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_[515] IARBAS _to sacrifice_.

_Iar._ 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[516] 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[517] to resound! 10 The woman that thou willed us entertain, Where, straying 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 G.o.d of power, On whom ruth and compa.s.sion ever waits, 20 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?

_Iar._ I, 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.

_Iar._ Anna, against this Trojan do I pray, 30 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.

_Iar._ Mine eye is fixed 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, 40 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.

_Iar._ I may nor will list to such loathsome change.