Dido and Aeneas the fourth booke of Virgils Aeneis now Englished by Robert Stapylton Esqr Aeneis. Book 4. English Virgil. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A14490 of text S119374 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 24812). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 54 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 34 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A14490 STC 24812 ESTC S119374 99854581 99854581 20008 2240938180

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A14490) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 20008) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1044:1) Dido and Aeneas the fourth booke of Virgils Aeneis now Englished by Robert Stapylton Esqr Aeneis. Book 4. English Virgil. Droeshout, John, d. 1652, engraver. Stapylton, Robert, Sir, d. 1669. [66] p. Printed for William Cooke at Furnivalls Inn gate in Holborne, [London] : [1634?] In verse. The title page is engraved and signed: John Droeshout sculp. Publication date conjectured by STC. Signatures: A-D. A1v bears a verse explanation of the title page. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. eng eebo Dido and Aeneas the fourth booke of Virgils Aeneis now Englished by Robert Stapylton Esqr Virgil 1634 63 8949 26 0 0 0 0 0 29.05 C The rate of 29.05 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2003-08 Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-10 Sampled and proofread 2003-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-12 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
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 .

Dido and Aeneas The Foūrth Booke of Virgils Aeneis 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 TWISLETON , Daughter of Henry Stapylton Esquire , and Wife to Sir GEORGE TWISLETON , 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 , 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 : 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 , 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 , 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 .

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 . 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 ? 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 To win oth'sense of man . Thy fanci's find A vertuous operation in the mind . But those hereafter to the World you le 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● 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 o th' 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 i th' 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 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 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 , 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 . 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 , Whom heedles some far darting Shepheard strooke I th' 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 accon 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 . 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 le ts celebrate , And marriages : thou hast thy hearts desire : Fond Dido burnes , her marrow 's all a fire : These Nations then , in common , le ts preserue With equall powers . Let her a Troian serue , To thee we Carthage for a dowry leaue . Thus ( for 't was 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 , I le second ; thus great Iuno then Catcht it , be that my care , now by what meane This may be done , marke , briefly I le declare . Aeneas and poore Dido t'hunt prepare 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 I le be , and if thy firme grant I have , I le 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 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 . 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 , : t is 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 : 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 , that s 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 , t is 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 . By night she , scritching , through mid-heaven flyes , And through th' earths shade : no sleep doth close her eies , By day sits watching , & from 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 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 : And now that Paris , with 's halfe-men , bold in His Phrygian Miter , his oyld haire and chin , Wins her by rape : while t is 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 , And to one Law the Conquer'd World 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 Mandates 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 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 From 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 , 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 . 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 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 ? 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 ? 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 . What 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 I le 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 , 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 . Why 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 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 : 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 . 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 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 , from 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 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 . 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 from 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 : 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 i th 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 o th 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 . 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 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 i th 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 t is 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 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 int h ' inner Court do lye . The queen with garlands then 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 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 . 'T was 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 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 ? 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 : 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 . 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 , Whil'st aged Tython's safron 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 t was time . Where 's faith ? oh where ? Is this the man his country's gods did beare ? And his old father on his shoulders saue ? Why 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 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 , 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 I le finish , and so end my care . 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 O 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 . 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 t is 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 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 . 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 . 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 .