The Works of Christopher Marlowe Volume II Part 72

_Ach._ What length or breadth shall this brave town contain?

_aen._ Not past four thousand paces at the most.

_Ili._ But what shall it be call'd? Troy, as before?

_aen._ That have I not determin'd with myself.

_Clo._ Let it be term'd aenea, by your name. 20

_Serg._ Rather Ascania, by your little son.

_aen._ Nay, I will have it called Anchisaeon, Of my old father's name.

_Enter_ HERMES _with_ ASCANIUS.

_Her._ aeneas, stay; Jove's herald bids thee stay.

_aen._ Whom do I see? Jove's winged messenger!

Welcome to Carthage new-erected town.

_Her._ 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, 30 Why wilt thou so betray thy son's good hap?

The king of G.o.ds 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 sh.o.r.e?

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, 40 And bore young Cupid unto Cyprus' isle.

_aen._ 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?

_Asc._ Eating sweet comfits with Queen Dido's maid, Who ever since hath lull'd me in her arms.

_aen._ Sergestus, bear him hence unto our s.h.i.+ps, Lest Dido, spying him, keep him for a pledge. 50 [_Exit_ SERGESTUS _with_ ASCANIUS.

_Her._ 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._

_aen._ How should I put into the raging deep.

Who have no sails nor tackling for my s.h.i.+ps?

What? would the G.o.ds have me, Deucalion-like, Float up and down where'er the billows drive?

Though she repair'd my fleet and gave me s.h.i.+ps, Yet hath she ta'en away my oars and masts, 60 And left me neither sail nor stern[542] aboard.

_Enter_ IARBAS.

_Iar._ How now, aeneas! sad! what means these dumps?

_aen._ Iarbas, I am clean besides myself; Jove hath heaped on me such a desperate charge, Which neither art nor reason may achieve, Nor I devise by what means to contrive.

_Iar._ As how, I pray? may I entreat you tell?

_aen._ With speed he bids me sail to Italy, Whenas I want both rigging for my fleet, And also furniture for these my men. 70

_Iar._ 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.

_aen._ 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_ aeNEAS.

Now will I haste unto Lavinian sh.o.r.e, And raise a new foundation to old Troy.

Witness the G.o.ds, and witness heaven and earth, 80 How loath I am to leave these Libyan bounds, But that eternal Jupiter commands!

_Enter_ DIDO.

_Dido._ I fear I saw aeneas' little son Led by Achates[543] to the Trojan fleet.

If it be so, his father means to fly:-- But here he is; now, Dido, try thy wit.-- [_Aside._ aeneas, wherefore go thy men abroad?

Why are thy s.h.i.+ps new-rigged? or to what end, Launched from the haven, lie they in the road?

Pardon me, though I ask; love makes me ask. 90

_aen._ O, pardon me, if I resolve thee why!

aeneas will not feign with his dear love.

I must from hence: this day, swift Mercury, When I was laying a platform[544] 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 aeneas will not leave his love.

_aen._ I am commanded by immortal Jove To leave this town and pa.s.s to Italy; 100 And therefore must of force.

_Dido._ These words proceed not from aeneas' heart.

_aen._ 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[545] their lovers thus?

Fare well may Dido, so aeneas stay; I die, if my aeneas say farewell.

_aen._ Then let me go, and never say farewell: Let me go; farewell:[546] I must from hence. 110

_Dido._ These words are poison to poor Dido's soul: O, speak like my aeneas, like my love!

Why look'st thou toward the sea? the time hath been When Dido's beauty chain'd[547] thine eyes to her.

Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first?

O, then, aeneas, 'tis for grief of thee!

Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy[548] queen, And Dido's beauty will return again.

aeneas, say, how can'st thou take thy leave?

Wilt thou kiss Dido? O, thy lips have sworn 120 To stay with Dido! canst thou take her hand?

Thy hand and mine have plighted mutual faith; Therefore, unkind aeneas, must thou say, "Then let me go, and never say farewell?"

_aen._ O queen of Carthage, wert thou ugly-black, aeneas could not choose but hold thee dear!

Yet must he not gainsay the G.o.ds' behest.

_Dido._ The G.o.ds! what G.o.ds be those that seek my death?

Wherein have I offended Jupiter, That he should take aeneas from mine arms? 130 O no! the G.o.ds weigh not what lovers do: It is aeneas calls aeneas hence; And woful Dido, by these blubber'd[549] cheeks, By this right hand, and by our spousal rites, Desires aeneas to remain with her; _Si_[550] _bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quidquam_

_Dulce meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam, Oro, si quis adhuc[551] precibus locus, exue mentem._