SCENE I.

_Enter_[481] CUPID _as_ ASCANIUS.

_Cup._ Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queen To be enamour'd of thy brother's looks: Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve, Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son; And when she strokes thee softly on the head, Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.

_Enter_ DIDO, ANNA, _and_ IARBAS.

_Iar._ How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee? 'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love, But that I may enjoy what I desire: That love is childish which consists in words. 10

_Dido._ Iarbas, know, that thou, of all my wooers,-- And yet have I had many mightier kings,-- Hast had the greatest favours I could give. I fear me, Dido hath been counted light In being too familiar with Iarbas; Albeit the gods do know, no wanton thought Had ever residence in Dido's breast.

_Iar._ But Dido is the favour I request.

_Dido._ Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine.

_Anna._ Look, sister, how Æneas' little son 20 Plays with your garments and embraceth you.

_Cup._ No, Dido will not take me in her arms; I shall not be her son, she loves me not.

_Dido._ Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son: Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing. [CUPID _sings_. No more, my child; now talk another while, And tell me where learn'dst thou this pretty song.

_Cup._ My cousin Helen taught it me in Troy.

_Dido._ How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles!

_Cup._ Will Dido let me hang about her neck? 30

_Dido._ I, wag; and give thee leave to kiss her too.

_Cup._ What will you give me now? I'll have this fan.

_Dido._ Take it, Ascanius, for thy father's sake.

_Iar._ Come, Dido, leave Ascanius; let us walk.

_Dido._ Go thou away; Ascanius shall stay.

_Iar._ Ungentle queen, is this thy love to me?

_Dido._ O, stay, Iarbas, and I'll go with thee!

_Cup._ An if my mother go, I'll follow her.

_Dido._ Why stay'st thou here? thou art no love of mine.

_Iar._ Iarbas, die, seeing she abandons thee! 40

_Dido._ No; live, Iarbas: What hast thou deserved, That I should say thou art no love of mine? Something thou hast deserved.--Away, I say! Depart from Carthage; come not in my sight.

_Iar._ Am I not king of rich Gætulia?

_Dido._ Iarbas, pardon me, and stay a while.

_Cup._ Mother, look here.

_Dido._ What tell'st thou me of rich Gætulia? Am not I queen of Libya? then depart.

_Iar._ I go to feed the humour of my love, 50 Yet not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.

_Dido._ Iarbas!

_Iar._ Doth Dido call me back?

_Dido._ No; but I charge thee never look on me.

_Iar._ Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die. [_Exit._

_Anna._ Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbas go?

_Dido._ Because his loathsome sight offends mine eye, And in my thoughts is shrined another love. O Anna, didst thou know how sweet love were, Full soon wouldst thou abjure this single life!

_Anna._ Poor soul, I know too well the sour of love: 60 O, that Iarbas could but fancy me! [_Aside._

_Dido._ Is not Æneas fair and beautiful?

_Anna._ Yes; and Iarbas foul and favourless.

_Dido._ Is he not eloquent in all his speech?

_Anna._ Yes; and Iarbas rude and rustical.

_Dido._ Name not Iarbas: but, sweet Anna, say, Is not Æneas worthy Dido's love?

_Anna._ O sister, were you empress of the world, Æneas well deserves to be your love! So lovely is he, that, where'er he goes, 70 The people swarm to gaze him in the face.

_Dido._ But tell them, none shall gaze on him but I, Lest their gross eye-beams taint my lover's cheeks. Anna, good sister Anna, go for him, Lest with these sweet thoughts I melt clean away.

_Anna._ Then, sister, you'll abjure Iarbas' love?

_Dido._ Yet must I hear that loathsome name again? Run for Æneas, or I'll fly to him. [_Exit_ ANNA.

_Cup._ You shall not hurt my father when he comes.

_Dido._ No; for thy sake I'll love thy father well.-- 80 O dull-conceited Dido, that till now Didst never think Æneas beautiful! But now, for quittance of this oversight, I'll make me bracelets of his golden hair; His glistering eyes shall be my looking-glass; His lips an altar, where I'll offer up[482] As many kisses as the sea hath sands; Instead of music I will hear him speak; His looks shall be my only library; And thou, Æneas, Dido's treasury, 90 In whose fair bosom I will lock more wealth Than twenty thousand Indias can afford. O, here he comes! Love, love, give Dido leave To be more modest than her thoughts admit, Lest I be made a wonder to the world.

_Enter_ ÆNEAS, ACHATES, SERGESTUS, ILIONEUS, _and_ CLOANTHUS.

Achates, how doth Carthage please your lord?

_Ach._ That will Æneas show your majesty.

_Dido._ Æneas, art thou there?

_Æn._ I understand your highness sent for me.

_Dido._ No; but, now thou art here, tell me, in sooth, 100 In what might Dido highly pleasure thee.

_Æn._ So much have I receiv'd at Dido's hands, As, without blushing, I can ask no more: Yet, queen of Afric, are my ships unrigg'd, My sails all rent in sunder with the wind, My oars broken, and my tackling lost, Yea, all my navy split with rocks and shelves; Nor stern nor anchor have our maimèd fleet; Our masts the furious winds struck overboard: Which piteous wants if Dido will supply, 110 We will account her author of our lives.

_Dido._ Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships, Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me, And let Achates sail to Italy: I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled[483] gold, Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;[484] Oars of massy ivory, full of holes, Through which the water shall delight to play; Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks, Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves; 120 The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang, Hollow pyramides of silver plate; The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wrought The wars of Troy,--but not Troy's overthrow; For ballace,[485] empty Dido's treasury: Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here. Achates, thou shalt be so seemly[486] clad, As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships, And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs, Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth 130 Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck, So that Æneas may but stay with me.

_Æn._ Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay?

_Dido._ To war against my bordering enemies. Æneas, think not Dido is in love; For, if that any man could conquer me, I had been wedded ere Æneas came: See, where the pictures of my suitors hang; And are not these as fair as fair may be?

_Ach._ I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd. 140

_Æn._[487] I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen.

_Ili._ This man and I were at Olympia's[488] games,

_Serg._ I know this face; he is a Persian born: I travell'd with him to Ætolia.

_Cloan._ And I in Athens with this gentleman, Unless I be deceived, disputed once.

_Dido._ But speak, Æneas; know you none of these?

_Æn._ No, madam; but it seems that these are kings.

_Dido._ All these, and others which I never saw, Have been most urgent suitors for my love; 150 Some came in person, others sent their legates, Yet none obtained me: I am free from all; And yet, God knows, entangled unto one. This was an orator, and thought by words To compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd: And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild; But his fantastic humours pleased not me: This was Alcion, a musician; But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go: This was the wealthy king of Thessaly; 160 But I had gold enough, and cast him off: This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince; But weapons gree not with my tender years: The rest are such as all the world well knows: Yet now[489] I swear, by heaven and him I love, I was as far from love as they from hate.

_Æn._ O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves!

_Dido._ Then never say that thou art miserable, Because, it may be, thou shalt be my love, Yet boast not of it, for I love thee not,-- 170 And yet I hate thee not.--O, if I speak, I shall betray myself! [_Aside._]--Æneas, come:[490] We too will go a-hunting in the woods; But not so much for thee,--thou art but one,-- As for Achates and his followers. [_Exeunt._