The Fron [...]spice.

Here wounded by her owne hand Dido lyes.
There with conspiring Winds Aeneas flies.
Is faith so fraile? or can no private care
Or friendship stand with Empire? This great paire,
Two bodies that one soule did lately g [...]ide,
Now th' Earth and Seas, eu'n life and death divide.
So the high Pines that equally did crowne
The Carthaginian mountaine, now cut downe
And by new motion carry'd sev'rall wayes:
Part rigges his ship, and part her Pile doth raise.
What mov'd these Princes to their fates? behold
A Cypresse-garland and a Crowne of gold.

[Page]

Dido and Aeneas The Foūrth Booke of Virgils A eneis Now Englished Bij Robert Stanijston Esgr Iohn Droeshoūt scūsp

Printed for William Cooke at Hurnivalls Inn gate in Holborne

TO MY MOST HONOVRED Lady, my Lady TVVISLETON, Daughter of Henry Stapylton Esquire, and Wife to Sir GEORGE TVVISLETON, Baronet.

MADAM,

I Have obeyed your commands, and (as farre as my power extends) perfected them. The Queene of CARTHAGE hath learned English to converse with you: be pleased now to esteeme her as a Native, but in the errours of her language, still remember she was borne a Forraigner. I doubt not but the correspondence your knowledge holds with Time-past, hath truely informed your Ladiship, that DIDO fell by her owne hand a Martyr of CHA­STITY, [Page] not a SACRIFICE to PAS­SION: but let not this move you to sus­pect my Authour, as envious to your No­ble Sexe, or ambitious to enlarge the RO­MAN Conquest in a Ladies fame, farre be it from your apprehension, as from his: he writes a POEM, not a HISTORY, and draweth not the Picture of DIDO, but of ART to life: I tooke this Copy for your Ladiship; pardon me that I publish it, my chiefe designe being to doe honour to so excellent a Kinswoman: in whose natu­rall perfections our Family, in whose ver­tues our Time glories. Be constant to your goodnesse, and the world shall subscribe, as I,

Your Ladiships True Honorer, Robert Stapylton.

The TRANSLATOR

WIllingly I would omit this entertaine­ment to my Reader; for if he be onely a pretender to conception, hee will pre­tend to conceive me howsoever: If re­ally ingenious he needes no preparative, unlesse he be a Crittique, and then he deserves not any thing, because hee will bee satisfied with nothing. But Custome exacts Ceremony, and I pay my tribute, lest I should be thought proud or foolish, that I either would not, or could not give an account of my elections.

That I pitched upon the Fourth Booke of the Aeneis, and singled it from the rest, was by such a Comands as (like coelestiall influences) did not violently inforce, but strongly incline my will: [Page] Reason assuring me, I might justifie my obedience, and quote Virgil for it; himselfe having first read to Augustus Caesar, the Second, This, and the Sixt Booke; And so intire a worke I doe esteeme this Booke, as while it remaines solitary, I presume to: give it the Title of DIDO and AENEAS: wherein I prefixe her name, and would adde my reasons; but I imagine no man will quarrell with a Lady for place: much lesse with a Queene in her owne Kingdome.

Opinion the common game that Muses fly at, hath not raised mine upon the wing. Of a noble Fame who covets not the purchase? it is a whole­some ayre, and breathes new spirits into a man; but mutable Opinion is winde, and I would not rashly carve Letters on a Wether-cocke: I write lower, [Page] therefore safer, couching my Name under the lear­ned Maro.

I will not offer to defend my Authour, that were to present succours to a Prince reigning in full peace, the Prince of the Latin Poets. If any should question him for the truth of History, the verse is transparent, they may onely intend their sight, and looke quite through the Fained worke: and in the Founders of the Carthaginian and Roman Em­pires Dido and Aeneas, they shall read the myste­ries of their Foundations, the Foeminine and Masculine governements of those two great Citties, by Merchandise, and Armes; And if it be a fiction that Aeneas ever saw Dido, it is true that Rome fell into the power of Carthage, till by a Faction growing in the bosome of this State, it was per­swaded, [Page] like a love-sicke Lady, to trust it selfe in the armes and imbrace of Rome, that would seeme commanded by Fate to breake all mutuall tyes; till cursing the Roman false-hood, the reputation and spirit of poore Carthage glided into winde.

In Englishing Virgil, I have given him a Lan­guage, not so low as to bring downe his Aeneis to his Eclogues, and levell the expressions of his Princes with his Shepheards: nor so high, that he should not be intelligible to the Vnlearned, as if he still spake Latin. It is true that wit distilled in one language, cannot be transfused into another without losse of spirits: yet I presume such graces are retained, as those of the Noblest quality will favour this Tran­slation, from an Original, that was somtimes the un­envied Favorite of the greatest Roman Emperour.

[Page] But I have now detained you so long, we shall not [...]ome to Carthage in time, to the Feast made for Aeneas: I can onely for the present, bring you to [...]eare the Ecchoes of his last complement to Dido, having commanded him to relate the Stratagem of [...]he Greekes, and the course of his owne adven­tures, Thus Virgil brings him off;

Hence to your Court some god my passage steer'd,
Sacred Aeneas, whom all listning heard,
Troy's fate, and his owne fortunes thus exprest,
At length here ceas'd, tooke leave, and went to rest.
AUGUSTUS

AUGUSTUS CEASAR On the Commaund of VIRGIL by Testament that his Workes should be burned.

COuld his last breath command so blacke a sin?
Shall learned Uirgil's great Must perish in
The greedy fire? shall his Art die? oh shame!
And can our Eies behold it? nor the flame
His honour spare? will he not then permit
The loue we owe his workes? Prohibit it
Bright Phoebus! Roman Muses speak your charmes.
Bacchus, faire Ceres aide, he in your armes
Your souldier was, your husband-man improu'd.
For what would by the working Spring be mov'd
He taught: what Summer forces, Autumne yeilds,
Or Winter's age affoords. Reform'd the fields.
[Page] A match concluded twixt the Elme and Vine.
Order'd the Beasts: did to the Bees assigne
Their straw-pavillions. And were all these made
For ruine? should the Parent this haue sayd?
But Law must be observ'd, his last will stand:
We must obey the pow'r of his Command.
Be rather broken the Law's Reuerenc'd pow'r,
Then one day shall the heap'd-up paines devou'r
Of nights and daies so many. On's last breath
His watchfull studies blast, Perhaps in death
Rage seiz'd him; & his tong did somthing vent,
His spirits stray'd: not of his owne intent,
But conquer'd with the languishing vile paine.
If then his Soule were blind, shall Troy againe
Her Ruines feele? againe be forc'd to mourne?
After Loues wound and Death's shall Dido burn?
[Page] Shall such a sacred worke such warrs such swords
Turne dust, in one bad hou'r, by erring words?
Come, come, all floods Pierian sisters give,
Andquench these flames; Let Virgil each where liu
T'himselfe unkinde, envying the world his wit:
In the grave hurtfull. He commanded it he dead
But if my countermaund
His whole Muse sounding shall immortalize suffize,
His name; his verse is by our pow'r approu'd
Let him be prais'd, live please, be read, be lou'd.

On DIDO and AENEAS, Translated by my much honourd, much lou'd friend, Robert Stapylton Esq.

THy life and Verse is such, I dare commend
Thee and thy labours, and boast thee my friend
To my advantage: for I good must be
And knowing, if I praise thy wit and thee.
Nor can praise swell thee, who nere hop'st to sit
At the loud-talking helme of seeming wit,
And steere the ship of fooles; who tak'st no pride
To haue thy name 'mong Ladies glorified,
Or Lords like them iudicious: who hast wealth
Enough to drinke, not mentioning their health.
Thy soule is liberall: not forc'd to write
Like the gay Pandar, or smooth Parasite
[Page] To win oth'sense of man. Thy fanci's find
A vertuous operation in the mind.
But those hereafter to the World youle show
By this Translation you now Print we know
You Latin vnderstand, a Science few
Haue reacht oth'magnified Poëticke crew,
Who yet perswade the Courtier, Maro's vaine
Is Pigmey to their owne Gyganticke straine.
And they who haue the ancient Latins read,
Or late Italians, will vncrowne thy head
Of its due Laurel, and sharpe Criticks be
Not 'gainst thy worke, they cannot, but 'gainst thee
Who wouldst not their fine cunning imitate,
Intitling that thy owne, thou didst Translate.
By this they grew proud minions to fond Fame,
Thogh like the Moon they shind with borrowd flam [...]
[Page] Cold in themselues: or prodigally spent
Like riotous youth, only on monies lent.
While thou, as I, how ere they malice it,
Dost onely spend oth' stocke of thy owne wit.
Endeauour nobly still. And should the sport
Of vs but the gay wonder of the Court,
The perfum'd Sir Whisper ith' Ladies eare,
That Dido doth not in thy language beare
Due state, or copies want th' Originals art,
Bid him, play with her Fan and Act his part.
Court not Opinion, and triumphant bayes
Will follow Uertue. Euen this Peice will raise
Not subiect to times rage, or Enuies spoile,
A Pyramid to thee in Dido's Pile.
W. HABINGTON.

THE FOURTH BOOKE OF UIRGIL'S AENEIS.

The Argument.
THe queene enamour'd doth her Sister move,
And by her councell yeelds her selfe to love▪
They court the Gods with gifts and Sacrifice:
Shee hunts, and ioynes with him in Venus tyes▪
The rumour spreades: for flight Aeneas then
Warn'd by a God prepares his ships, and men;
Dido perceives it, and intreates delay:
But Fate commaunds, he hath no pow'r to stay.
Her Pile she desp'rate mounted, her last breath
His falsehood curs'd, and with his sword forc'd death.
BVt with sad care struck-deepe, her wound the queene
Feedes in her veines, melts in a fire vnseene.
The man's much vertue wanders in her mind,
His Troy's great name: his looks & language find
[Page] Root in her bosome. Care her rest denies.
Next morning th'earth with Sun-beames purifies,
And from heaven's beauty the moist shadow breaks
When, craz'd, t'her dearest sister thus she speakes.
My sister Anne, what dreames my doubts affright
Who's this new Guest that on our coast did light!
Whom speaks his face, strong soule, and force! In lin
Is I beleiue (nor is Faith vaine) Divine.
Feare low minds argues; by what fates (aye me)
Hath he bin toss'd! what fought-out wars sung he
Were't not a thing within me fix'd vpon
Immoueably, to match my selfe to none,
Since Death deceiuing me, my first Love fled,
Were I not weary of the Torch and bed:
Perhaps this one lin, might me Captiuate;
For (I confesse) since poore Sychaeus fate
[Page] My Lord, our house-gods stayn'd by fratricide:
This sole man forc'd me from my vow to slide;
The path of my forgotten flame I see;
But first I wish earths depth may gape for me,
Th'Almighty Thunder strike me to the Sprites,
Pale sprites of Hell, and to their darkest nights,
Ere shame I violate thee, or thy lawes wrong;
He that first won it, tooke my loue along
To his cold Tombe: there let him keep it still.
Teares, flowing whilst she speaks, her bosome fill,
Anne thus replies, O thou more lov'd then day,
wilt thou a Widow weare thy youth away?
Sweet Babes wilt thou not know? Loves bounties share?
Thinkst thou for that, dust or pale shadowes care?
What though no Suitors warm'd thy cold desire?
Not Lybians, not Hiarbas scorn'd in Tyre,
[Page] Nor leaders great in Affricke, a rich Land
In triumphes, wilt thou yet pleasd love withstand?
Mindst thou not where thou art? Getes never foild
Here girt thee, there hard Syrtis, and the wild
Numidians: a dry Desert here, and farre-
Raging Barceans; of Tyre's growing warre,
Pigmaleons threats (our brother) what is sayd?
Sure by propitious gods, by Iuno's ayde,
The Troian ships haue steer'd their course to thee;
How great this town, what Kingdoms shalt thou see
Rise by this match! Troians accompanying
In Armes, how high will Punicke glory spring?
Craue thou the gods leave only, sacrifize,
Then intertaine him, cause of stay devise,
Whilst Winter, and Orion swells the Seas:
His ships are broke, and Heaven no Law obeyes.
[Page] Thus her fir'd soule she did with loue inflame,
Gaue hope t'her doubtfull mind, and banisht shame.
They go to th' temple first, at th' Altars pray
For peace: of course they chosen Heifers slay
To Ceres, Phoebus, Bachus: zealously
To Iuno, Patronesse o'the marriage tye.
Faire Dido's selfe holds th' ewre, & poures between
The white Cowes hornes, or by the gods is seene
Imployed at their fat Altars: crownes the day
With gifts, Beasts open'd breasts she doth survey,
Consults their breathing intrailes. Ah dull mind
Of Priests what helpe can vowes or Temples find
For her that's mad? This while, a soft flame eates
Her marrow, in her breast a dumbe wound beates.
Vnhappy Dido burnes, strayes wild through all
The Towne; like as a Hinde, at th' arrowes fall,
[Page] Whom heedles some far darting Shepheard strooke
Ith' Cressian woods, whilst his wingd steele forsooke
Him vnawares: she flies through lawnes & thickes,
But in her side the deadly arrow stickes.
Now with Aeneas 'bout the wals she goes,
Boasts her Sidoniā wealth, the townstrēgth showes
Attempts to speake, stops the word halfe-exprest.
Now Euening, hopes for such another feast:
Againe prayes (mad) to heare Troyes fate, and then
Hangs, ravish'd, at th' Historians lips agen.
They parted: when, by turne, the dull blacke night
Reign'd, and declining Starres did rest invite,
She mournes to th' empty roome, and sits where he
Late sate, doth him though absent heare and see:
Or for the fathers sake she hugs his child,
And tries if so curst Loue could be beguild.
[Page] Forts halfe-built go not on; the youth forsakes
To practize armes, no warlike Bulwarkes makes:
The workes hang wildly broken off, with high
And thretning pinacles, that brave the sky.
When Iove's lov'd wife, saw what a plague had caught
Her Dido, fury setting fame at naught,
She, meeting Venus, to this purpose sayes,
Large spoyles thou and thy boy, sure mighty prayse
You win: A memorable name, and great?
One woman conquer'd by two gods deceite.
Alas I know thou feardst these wals of ours,
And to what hight Carthage might raise her towers
But to what end? why now this great debate?
Rather perpetuall peace lets celebrate,
And marriages: thou hast thy hearts desire:
Fond Dido burnes, her marrow's all a fire:
[Page] These Nations then, in common, lets preserue
With equall powers. Let her a Troian serue,
To thee we Carthage for a dowry leaue.
Thus (for 'twas spoke in craft she did perceiue,
Romes Empire in the Lybian parts to hold;
Uenus incounters her; what mad-man would
Refuse this? or in Warre with thee contend?
If what thou motion'st Fortune can be friend:
But I doubt Fate: if Iove those come from Troy;
With these of Tyre, would haue one Towne enioy,
Or likes the men be mixt, or leagues be ioyn'd:
Thou art his wife, hast power to sound her mind:
Proceed, Ile second; thus great Iuno then
Catcht it, be that my care, now by what meane
This may be done, marke, briefly Ile declare.
Aeneas and poore Dido t'hunt prepare
[Page] Ith'Forrest, when to morrow's Sun displayes
His first rise, th' orbe vnfolding with his rayes.
I (whilst the horse toyle in the chase) will powre,
Mixt with a storme of haile, a darkning showre
Vpon them: and all Heaven with thunder fright:
The troopes shall scatter, cover'd in blacke night:
Dido shall with Troyes Generall find one Cave,
There Ile be, and if thy firme grant I have,
Ile tye them sure, and giue her for his owne
In marriage. No dislike to Iuno knowne;
Uenus assents, and smiles to find her trayne,
This while, Aurora rising leaves the maine,
Choice youth beare throgh the Ports wide nets (now day)
Cordes & broad iron toyles; then rush away
Massylian horse; flesht hounds. At the Court gate,
For the queene lingring in her Chamber, waite
[Page] The Carthage Lords, her foaming Courser (gay
In gold and purple) on the Bit doth play.
At length she with a Princely traine appeares:
A Tyrian robe, the borders staind, she weares.
Of gold her quiver, her haire wound in gold:
A golden button doth the purple hold.
Wanton Iulus, and the Trojans are
Now marching for the chase. Aeneas
Aboue them all) ioynes troopes with hers: even as faire
When Phoebus doth from Winter Lycia passe,
Or Zanthus: and his mothers Delos greet,
'Bout th' Altars dancing Cretans murmuring meet,
Driopes, painted Agathyrsians mixe;
He his haire twin'd in gold with Bayes doth fixe:
On's shoulder arrowes clashing; with such grace
Aeneas rides, like Beauty in his face.
[Page] When hils they'd climbd, & dens vnpathd by man,
Here you might see wild Goats, that down-hill ran,
As cast off from the rocks: in wide plaines there
From mountaines frighted heards of flying Deere,
Lost in their dust. In his swift horse the boy
Ascanius doth amidst the vallies ioy,
Now these, now those out gallop,: tis his wish
Mongst the dul heards, a foaming Boare would rush
Or yellow Lyon from the hill descend:
Meane while with horrid noise the heavens contend:
Rain mixt with haile, straight follows. Tyrians fly,
Ascanius and the youthfull Troians hye,
Frighted away: to severall shelters all
Now stragling. Rivers from the mountains fall.
Troyes Generall and Dido tooke one Cave.
First earth and marrying Iuno th' Omen gave:
[Page] Fire flasht, th' ayre's privy to the match: on hills
Nymphs howl'd: that day of death first, first of ills
Was cause; for neither forme doth Dido moue,
Nor fame, nor now she meditates stolne loue,
Wedlooke she calst', pretexting with that name
Her fault; straight through great Lybian towns goe fame
Fame, thats an evil swiftest in her course,
That liues by change; by going gathers force.
By feare first little, then through th' aire is spread:
Her feet the Earth, and Clouds involue her head:
Vext by the gods, tis sayd the mother earth
Addes fame t' Enceladus and Ceus birth,
Their yongest sister: swift-heeld, wing'd, a loathd,
Huge monster, as with plumes her body's cloath'd,
So many sharpe Eyes lurke (strange to relate)
So many Eares to listen, tongues to prate.
[Page] By night she, scritching, through mid-heaven flyes,
And through th' earths shade: no sleep doth close her eies,
By day sits watching, & frō towers doth pry,
Or houses tops, and great Townes terrifie.
Speaker of truths, in false reports as bold.
She then with ioy things done and vndone told.
And fild the people with strange rumours, how
Aeneas came, and Didos loue did bow,
That flying Trojan to her bed to take:
Now long, as Winter, their delights they make.
Carelesse of Empire, in foule lust abus'd;
This the vile goddesse t' all mens mouthes dis-fus'd.
And straight her course to King Hiarbas turnes,
Her words increase his wrath, his soule she burnes.
Ioues sonne, of ravish'd Garamante borne.
This Prince a hundred Temples did adorne
[Page] In his large Kingdome to his Father Iove:
Hallow'd the watchfull fires, to pow'rs above
Eternall guards: and fatned with beast gores
His soile, with flowry garlands wreath'd his doore
Madwith this bitter bruite inflamd, he's sayd,
Fore th'altars, midst the powers of gods, t'haue pray
Complaining much, with hands to heavenward cas [...]
All powerful Ioue, to whom the Moores now ta [...]
Grape-honors, on beds painted banquetting,
Seest thou this? Do we feare thee thundring
In vaine O father? are those lightnings blind,
And murmurs idle, that affright our mind?
The woman that (straid hither) built a poore
Town, and bought leaue, compeld to plow the shore
To which place we gaue Lawes (our match abhord)
Aeneas ore her Land receives as Lord:
[Page] And now that Paris, with's halfe-men, bold in
His Phrygian Miter, his oyld haire and chin,
Wins her by rape: while tis our part to bring
Gifts to thy Temple, vaine fame cherishing.
Holding the Altar, praying in this sort,
Th' Almighty heard him, cast his eyes to th' Court
And lovers, of faire fame oblivious:
Then speaks to Hermes, and commaunds him thus.
Son, call the West-wind, wing thy selfe, away,
Speake to the Troian chiefe, that now doth stay th' aire.
In Tyrian Carthage, mindles to prepare,
For towns fate gaue him, beare these words through
Not such his fairest mother t'vs assur'd him,
Nor therfore twice from Grecian armes securd him,
But to rule Italy, with Empire great,
And lowd in War, Troy's blood to propagate,
[Page] And to one Law the Conquer'd VVorld to frame.
If not these glories, nor his care of Fame
Raise his indeavours: sure he envies not
Rome to his son? vpon what hope or plot,
Stayes he on hostile ground? doth he dispise
Th' Ausonian blood: Lavinian Seigniories?
Let him saile, this our charge, thou Herauld be.
Iove sayd; t'obey's great father's Mādates he
Prepares, first golden winged shooes he ties
To's feet, with which ore land and Sea he flyes,
By a full blast supported; he takes then
His wand, wherewith he cals pale soules agen
From Hell, and others sends to woes beneath:
Giues and breakes sleep, and seales vp eyes in death.
Thus arm'd, he swims through clouds, the wind he rides
And flying, viewes the crown, & craggy sides
[Page] Of Atlas: whose hard Summit Heaven vpholds:
Atlas, that still his Piny head infolds
In sullyd clouds; beat with the wind and showre.
Falne snow his shoulders covers; Rivers powre
Frō th' old mans chin, his yce-startch'd beard afrights
Here Hermes sailing with even wings first lights:
Hence to Seas head-long doth his body throw,
Like to a Bird that nere the Sea flyes low,
'Bout fishy Rockes and ports: so he wings ore
(Hov'ring twixt Heaven and Earth) the sandy shore
Of Lybia, cuts the winds, descending downe
From's mothers father. The yet low built towne
When first his feather'd feet touch'd, he did view
Aeneas forming Towers: contriving new
The roofes; his sword bright Iaspar starr'd; he glowd
In Tyrian dyes: a Robe from's shoulder flow'd,
[Page] A gift rich Dido wrought, and did implaite
The woofe with thin gold: he invades him straight.
Thy mind foundations of high Carthage layes,
And thou uxorious a great Towne dost raise:
Ah mindlesse of thy Empire and thy ends!
The King of gods from his high Palace sends
Me to thee; he whose power the heavens doth sway
And th' earth: chargd me throgh th' aire these words convey.
What hope in Lybia idles thee? what plot?
If glory of so great things moves thee not,
Nor love of thy owne praise inflames thy care:
Respect Iülus rise, and hopes, thy heire,
Whose birth-right the Italian Kingdome is:
And Roman soile. Cyllenius, speaking this,
Ere he reply'd, left mortall forme's disguise,
And in the thin ayre vanisht from his Eyes.
[Page] This sight astonishes Aeneas mind,
His h [...]ire starts vp: his words no passage find.
He longs to fly, and leave that sweetest land:
Maz'd at such warning, and the gods command.
What should he do alas? how can he break
With th' angry Queen? or with what preface speak?
His quicke soule he divides, now here, now there:
Distracted turnes his spirits every where.
Then calls (this seemes of all the easiest way)
Mnesthes, Sergestus, strong Cloanthus, they
Must closly rig the Fleet: their fellowes traine
To th' shore, arme, cause for preparation faine.
Whilst he (since noblest Dido did not reach
His aime: but hop'd such loue would know no breach)
Would try to gaine accesse, and times to move
Most soft, and meanes most fit. They nimble prove
[Page] T' obey him, his commaunds dispatch: the while
The queene found (who a lover can beguile)
The plot: and first of future motions thought,
Fearing all was not safe: vile Fame then brought
Her newes the Fleet was arm'd, & course set down:
Raging she flyes like Thyas through the Towne,
When sacrifices wildly now begunne,
And having heard her Bacchus, she doth runne
At th' Origes sounds: and darke Cythaeron's calls.
At length her fury on Aeneas falls.
And didst thou hope, perfidious, to conceale
Such false-hood? Silent from my land to steale?
Cannot our hand, once thine, our loue, once deare,
Nor Dido's pitti'd funerals stay thee here?
Wilt thou by Winter Stars thy Fleet set forth,
And venture through the deepe the Wind at North?
[Page] Cruell, what if not bound for a strange Land,
And vnknowne houses? did old Troy yet stand?
Wouldst thou seeke Troy through the inraged Sea?
Me fly'st thou? by these teares, this hand I pray,
Since to my selfe fond I haue else left nought:
By our new ioyes of marriage, if I ought
Deserue of thee: or ought was sweet that's mine,
Pitty a falling house: that mind of thine
I pray (if prayers haue place) put off. For thee
Numidian Tyrants, Lybians malice me.
The Tyrians murmur: for thee dead is shame,
And (which I climb'd the Stars by) my first fame.
To whom wilt thou leave dying me? O guest!
For of all titles only that doth rest.
What stay I for? till downe Pigmaleon shakes
My wals? or me Hiarbas captiue takes?
[Page] Yet had I bin a mother ere thy flight,
If I had playing in my Court, or sight,
A young Aeneas having but thy looke:
Not captive I should seeme, nor quite forsooke.
She said, he warn'd by Iove, nere moves his Eyes;
Checks strugling griefe, and thus, in short, replies.
VVhat favours you so e're can boast of, I
Great Queene acknowledge: nor while memory
I of my selfe conserve, or life this frame
Shall move, will I forget Elisas name.
Briefe for my cause Ile speak; by flight to get
Hence (feigne it not) I nere hop'd, never yet
Pretended marriage: nor had such intent.
If Fate had left it at my choice t'haue spent
My life, and might I order my owne care:
The ruin'd Ilium first I would repaire,
[Page] And our own Reliques, Priams towers should stand,
Troy rendred to the vanquish'd by this hand.
Phoebus and Lycian lots, great Italy
Assigne; that must our love, our Country be.
If, being a Phoenician borne, thy sight
These Carthage towers, and Lybian towns delight.
VVhy then are Troians envi'd, if we do
Plant Latium? we may seek strange Kingdoms too.
Anchyses, my dead father, oft as night
Rises in shades, and stars show fiery light,
Warnes me in dreames: his troubled ghost breeds dread.
My boy Ascanius moves me, that deare head,
Which I defraud of the Hesperian Crowne,
And destin'd Earth; from Iove himself sent downe
Now, even the gods Embass'dor (I attest
Both their bright heads) through the quick aire adrest
[Page] These Mandates; in cleare light the god I saw,
Entring these walls: his voyce these eares did draw:
To vexe vs both with thy complaints forbeare,
I seeke not Italy a Volunteire.
This said, her eyes (obliquely fixt before)
She roles about, and wanders him all ore:
And then a-fire thus speakes. Thy mother nor
Goddesse, nor Dardanus thy Ancestor,
False man; thee Caucasus got on a Rocke,
And some Hircanian Tygresse gaue thee sucke.
Why should I feigne? for what worse vsage stay?
Sigh'd he with vs? cast he his eies this way?
Wept he at all? orpittied he our loue?
What shall I say? great Iuno now, nor Iove,
Do in my cause indifferent appeare.
Faith has no safety! poorely shipwrackt here:
[Page] I tooke him vp, did with him share estates;
From wracke his fleet I sav'd, from deaths his mates
Furies, alas, transport me; Phaebus now,
Now Lycian lots, Iove bids his Herauld bow
With his so horrid mandates through the Ayre.
And take the gods such paines? disturbes that care
Their quiet? I nor hold thee, nor refute.
Goe with the winde, seeke Latium; make pursute
Through waves for Crownes, I hope (if power there be
In the good Powers) some rock wil punish thee,
Oft calling Dido. In blacke fires I'le poast,
And dead thou shalt be follow'd with my Ghost.
Tortur'd bad man thou'lt be, I it shall heare:
Downe to my shaddow Fame this newes wil beare.
At these words breaking off, heart-sicke she flies
Out of the open ayre: and from his eyes.
[Page] Leaves him much doubting, much prepar'd to say.
Her in a swound her maids take vp, convey
Ther marble chamber: on her bed repose.
Pious Aeneas, though he wish'd her woes
And cares with sweeter language to remove.
Deep-sighing, his soule fainting in great love,
Yet heavens command fulfill'd: survey'd once more
His fleet. The Trojans ply'd it then, from shore
Halling tall ships, pitcht bottomes floating brought
Green oares: and Okes out of the woods vnwrought
For haste. You may behold them trooping downe,
And rushing from all corners of the Towne.
Like Ants, when they, huge corne-heaps pillaging
Provision home mindfull of Winter bring.
The black troop takes the field, through grasse amain
Beares prey by narrow wayes: the greater graine
[Page] Some tug along: some, Marshalling the swarme,
Chastice delay: the work each path doth warme.
What horror Dido, viewing this, seiz'd thee?
How sigh'dst thou, frō thy tow'r when thou didst see
The shore all flaming? and with various sound
Didst heare the Mariners the Sea confound?
O love to what canst thou not force our breasts!
Againe to melt in teares, to try requests
Againe she's forc'd, and yeilds to love againe:
Least, something left untryd, she diesin vaine.
Anne to the shore thou seest their swift resorts
From all parts: now the wind their canvasse courts,
And on their poupes crownes the glad Sailers set.
Had I thought sorrow could have bin thus great,
[...]'d brook'd it sister. Yet this one thing, Anne,
Do for poore me: thee only that false man
[Page] Respects, his secret sense he doth expresse
To thee, thou know'st his times, and best accesse.
Go sister, suppliant speake to my proud Foe.
I sware not to the Troian overthrow,
In Aulis with the Greekes: nor with them sent
My Fleet; nor tore his Fathers monument.
Why are his Eares so hard my words can force
No entrance? whether will he bend his course?
This last grant let him make his wofull loue,
T'expect safe flight, winds that may friendly prou
Not now the wedlocke he betray'd I craue,
Nor that he'd loose faire Latium: Kingdoms wau
I aske but vacant time rage to releive:
Vntill my ruine teach me how to grieve.
I begge (pitty thy sister) this last suite,
And this obtain'd, Death shall make absolute.
[Page] Thus her sad sister doth with teares assaile
[...]is pitty often, but no teares prevaile:
[...]or easily he any motion heares:
[...]ate barres, a god hath stopt the man's soft eares.
And as an old strong timber'd Oke, to rend
Which blustring Northwinds of the Alpes contend,
[...]ossing its trunke, breathes forth a mournful sound,
[...]nd leafes frō th'highest branches strew the ground,
[...]ast in the Rock it sticks, as much doth spread
[...]'s root tow'rds Hell, as reares to Heav'n its head.
[...] is Aeneas wrested, on this part,
[...]nd that, with pray'rs: care shaking his great heart,
[...]is soule remaines vnmou'd, teares vainly slide.
But wretched Dido, by fate terrifi'd,
[...]Vishes for death; euen Heaven offends her eye.
[...]o put her on to end her worke, and dye:
[Page] Horrid to speake, while the Altars incense burne,
She, offring, sees the hallow'd water turne
Black: and the wine chang'd to foule gore. To non [...]
Not to her sister speaks this vision.
There was ith house too (which she much ador'd)
A marble Temple to her former Lord;
With snowy fleeces, and leaves festivall
Hang'd round: hence voices, and her husbands call
She seem'd at dead of night to heare. Alone
The Owle oth house top gave a funerall groane,
And drew forth her slow voice to shriks. Her frigh [...]
Many an old Prophet also did excite,
With horrid presage. In her dreames she feares
Cruell Aeneas. Left alone sh'appeares,
Still vnattended in long wayes to toyle:
To seek her Tyrians in a Desert soyle.
[Page] So in his madnesse, Pentheus descries
Sixe Furies: two Sunnes, double Thebes espies.
Orestes so from's mother in the play
Arm'd with her Torch, and Snakes, doth run away:
Whilst at the doore the Furies hold their seat.
Thus spent with miseries, with fury great,
To dye, the time, and manner she provides.
And speaking to her sister, her looke hides
Her thoughts: hope shining in her face: I'ue now
Sister a way, (thy sister gratulate, thou)
Shall giue me him, or from him take fond me.
By th'Oceans bounds the farthest Aethiops be,
Nere Sun-set. where huge Atlas shoulders turne
Heavens Axle-tree, that seemes with stars to burne.
I know a Priestesse in those Countries bred,
Th'Hesperian Temple-keeper, that hath fed
[Page] The Dragon: and the sacred Tree did keep,
Sprinkling moist honny, poppy causing sleep.
She promises to free the minds she'l please,
By charmes: but others with sad care to seaze.
To stop streams, chase back stars, makeghosts appear
At midnight: you'l think, you th'earth groning hear
And from the mountaines tree descending see.
You gods, and thou deare sister witnesse be,
That Magick I vnwillingly prepare.
Erect thou secretly a pile ith ayre.
Lay on the armes, he wicked (when he fled)
In's Chamber left: his robes, the nuptiall bed
I perish'd in; all that was his tis fit
The fire consumes, the Priestesse told me it.
This said, she stops: palenesse invades her face.
But Anne beleives not such wild-furies chase
[Page] Her sister, or these rites her Fun'rals hide;
Nor farther feares then when Sychaeus dy'd:
Therefore prepares her charge. Now pyl'd vp high
Pines, cloven Okes inth' inner Court do lye.
The queen with garlands thē the place hang'd round
And her owne funerals with Cypresse crown'd,
Plac'd his Robes, Picture, and sword left behind,
On the bed: mindfull what she had design'd.
They circle round the Altar. Chaos, Hell,
Three hundred gods the Priestesse to her spell
Her haire loose call'd. Of three-form'd Hecat spake:
And sprinkled waters fain'd oth'stigian Lake.
By Moone-light, with brasse-sickles cut, were sought
Yong herbs, black venome in a foame: they brought
[Page] Th' Hyppomanes, from a Colt's forhead snatch'd
In foaling: and the Love oth'Mother catch'd.
With leaven, and pure hands neere th' Altar shee,
Her robe ungirted, one foote ty'd, one free,
Dying accus'd Fate-knowing Gods, and starres:
But if there be a just Power, which the jarres
Of Lovers pitties, prayes to that. 'Twas night,
And weary'd bodies suck't-in sleepes delight;
To their mid-revolution starres were come:
Woods, fields, the beasts, and gawdy birds were dumb,
Both those about the fennes, and those that keepe
The bushes, neasted in still Night, with sleepe
Allay'd their cares, and hearts from labour free:
But not the afflicted Dido; never shee
[Page] Takes rest: her eyes, her breast, doe entertaine
No night; cares double, mutinous, Love againe
Rebells; In a rough Sea toss'd by the winde
Of rage, shee floates, and thus revolves her minde.
What shall I doe? deluded, try once more
My Suitors? the Numidians now implore,
Whom I so oft have scorn'd? Trojans by Sea
Shall I attend? and their commands obey?
To have releev'd them helpes me much, and much
Their gratefull hearts my former favours touch?
But (say I would) who'd let me? or admit
Scorn'd me to their proud ships? Undone not yet
Feelst thou, nor knowst thou perjur'd Troy? shall I
Alone then, with the Saylers triumph fly?
[Page] Or back'd with Tyre, and all my men of War
Follow? and poast those (I scarse drew thus far)
So Sea againe: and force them saile? Oh no,
Dye thou deseru'st it, cure with wounds thy woe.
Won with my teares, thou sister downe didst weigh
Me first with griefe, and to my Foe betray.
Might I not, matcht but once, haue spent my time
Like the poore beast: freed from such care, or crime?
And to Sychaeus dust my vow haue payd?
Such sad complaints her breaking heart invade.
Aeneas, in'stall ship, to saile now sure,
All things first rightly ordred, sleepe secures.
The god againe returning in his sleep,
Gives him new warning, and's old forme doth keep:
[Page] Resembling Hermes all, voice, yellow haire,
And colour, and a body yong and faire.
Canst thou sleep (borne of Venus) in this fate?
Fond man, dost thou not see what dangers waite
About thee? hearest thou not th'inviting wind?
Plots and foule crimes she quickens in her mind:
Certaine of death. Her fury now flowes high.
Fly'st thou not hence, whilst thou hast power to fly?
The Sea with Engines vext, and torches, bright
But burning with an inauspitious light:
And the whole harbour shall in flames appeare,
If the next morning see thee dallying here,
Go, go, delay not, women are unfix'd.
This sayd, himselfe with the darke night he mix'd.
[Page] Aeneas frighted by the shade, doth rise,
Shakes off dull sleepe, and to his Mates he cries,
Awake, sit to your bankes, let your sayles flie
Nimbly to Sea; A God sent from the skie
That we should haste, and cut our Cables he
Urges once more; Blest God we follow thee
What Pow'r soe're: againe thy will w'intend;
Be present, pleas'd, ayde, and stars prosp'rous send.
He said. Like lightning forth his sword doth flye,
And cuts the cables which the vessell tye.
All burne with equáll heate, catch, rush away,
They've left the shore, the Navy hides the sea;
They rowing wreath the foame, brush th'azure wave,
To earth new light now yong Aurora gave,
[Page] Whil'st aged Tython's safrō bed she leaves.
When from her Watch-tow'r first the queene per­ceives
Day dawne, and with eav'n sayles the Fleet proceed,
The naked Ports, and shoare of sea-men freed.
Shee often beates her faire breast with her hand,
Teares her bright haire. Iove! shal he passe our land?
She said: and shall a stranger mocke our Crowne?
Is not warre just? shall we, and all the Towne
Pursue? Out of the Road lanch Vessels, goe,
Be nimble, carry flames, hoist saile, and row.
What's this? where am I? ah what change distracts
Poore Dido? now th'hast sense of thy ill acts,
Thou hadst not, when twas time. Where's faith? oh where?
Is this the mā his coūtry's gods did beare?
[Page] And his old father on his shoulders saue?
VVhy tore I not his limbs? and to some waue
Cast them? or sunke his Mates? or kild and drest
The Boy Ascanius for his fathers feast.
But fate in war is doubtfull, would t'had past!
Whom fear'd I dying? had I wild-fire cast
And burn'd his Fleet; I had the Father, Son,
Their line extinguish'd, and my selfe in one.
O Sun who all the busie World dost light!
Thou Iuno conscious of these cares! by night
O Hecate howl'd-for in crosse wayes! and all
Furies and gods conspiring Dido's fall,
Heare this: your justly anger'd powers now show,
If impious he must reach the Land, if so
[Page] Iove haue decreed it, and no wish can bar
That end; yet vext with a bold people's war,
From his owne Kingdome he an exile made
Divorc'd from his Ascanius, may he ayde
Implore abroad, see the dishonor'd ends
Of his associates: and when, forc'd, he bends
To cruell tearmes of peace, nor glorious reigne
Let him injoy, nor wisht for life retayne:
But dye vntimely, ith'sands uninterr'd:
This prayer, pour'd out with my last blood, be heard.
Then you of Tyre his Progeny to th'end
Hate, and afflict: these gifts t'our ashes send.
Be loue, nor league betwixt your Soveraignties:
But from our bones may some revenger rise,
[Page] Who Trojans may with fire and sword pursue,
Now, long hence: still as time shall strength renew.
Bee shore to shore, to waves waves adverse be:
Fight they and theirs for ever, curst by me.
This sayes; & turnes her thoughts, all waies, to break
The thread of life: then briefly she doth speake
To Barce, her Sychaeus nurse, (her owne
In her old Countrey now black dust was growne)
Nurse, call my Sister, waters from the spring
I long should sprinkle me: wish her to bring
The Beasts; and purifying things set downe:
So let her come. Thy temples see thou crowne
With holy veile, I Plutoes rites prepare:
And those Ile finish, and so end my care.
[Page] The Trojans Pile a funerall flame shall waste,
Old Barce mends her pace with limping haste,
But Dido, wild, rowling her bloudy Eyes,
Her trembling cheekes all spotts, pale ere shee dyes
With thoughts of death design'd, breakes ope the doore
Oth Inner court: & furiously mounts ore
The mighty Pile, then drawes the Troian sword
Not given for a purpose so abhord.
Here when his robes, and knowne bed she beheld,
Here teares and memory awhile compel'd
Her stay, she layd her downe: her last words spake,
Sweete spoyles (while Fates and Gods permitted) take
This spirit, free me in these cares made fast.
I liv'd, and what course fortune gave I past.
[Page] Now my great soule must to the Graue go downe,
I a fam'd Citty built, did wall my Towne,
Revenge my Lord, my Brothers hopes destroy.
Happy, alas too happy, if from Troy
No ship had euer touch'd our shore. Thus she,
Kissing the bed, dye unreveng'd shall we?
But let vs dye, she sayd, thus, thus tis due.
This fire from Sea may the fell Trojan view,
And our Deaths Omens take with him. She sayd.
Thus her attendants find her falne, the blade
Weeping her blood, her hands all stain'd. Then goes
The noise through Courts, & through the City flows
(All trembling) this sad newes. The buildings sound
with groans, & female howlings, th'heavns rebound
[Page] The wofull cries. No lesse then were old Tyre,
Or Carthage seiz'd by th'foe: the raging fire
Roling ore Temples and ore mens abodes,
Neither poore mortals sparing, nor their gods.
Her frighted sister heard, with trembling speed,
Beating her brest, forcing her face to bleed,
Breakes through them: cals her dying by her name,
Was this it sister? was this slight your ayme.
Haue all these sacred rites fram'd this for me?
Forsooke, what shall I say? my company
Did thy death scorne? if not, one fatall pow'r,
One griefe had kild vs both, one sword, one how'r.
This with these hands pil'd I? invoke did I
Our Country-gods? yet absent thou didst dye.
[Page] The Tyrian Lords and Commons and I found
Death in thy death: water, I'le bath her wound:
And with these lips, if her, last breath yet spends,
I'le gather it. This sayd, the steps sh'ascends.
Her halfe-dead fister in her bosome cheeres:
And sighing with her robe the blacke gore cleares,
Straite Dido opes her eyes, with Death opprest,
And closes them. The deepe wound grates her brest.
Thrice on her elbow leauing, she would rise,
Thrice, turning on her bed, with wandring eyes
Sought high heav'ns light, & having found it, gron'd,
Great Iuno then her tedious paines bemon'd:
And lingring Death, from heav'n her Iris sent
T'vnknit her joynts, her strugling soule to vent.
[Page] For (since by fate, nor Death deserv'd sh'expir'd
But wretched ere her time, with fury fir'd)
Yet Proserpine had not ta'en from her crowne
Her yellow haire: nor doom'd her head yet downe.
So deawy rose-wing'd Iris, having won
Thousand strange colours from the adverse Sun
Slides down: stands on her head, I beare this, charg'd,
Sacred to Dis: be from this flesh inlarg'd:
Thus sayes, and cuts her haire; together slides
All heat, and into wind her spirit glides.
FINIS.

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