Page:The works of Christopher Marlowe - ed. Dyce - 1859.djvu/324

 Some came in person, others sent their legates,

Yet none obtain'd 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 pleas'd 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;

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 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,—

And yet I hate thee not.—O, if I speak,

I shall betray myself! [Aside.]—Æneas, come:

We two will go a-hunting in the woods;

But not so much for thee,—thou art but one,—

As for Achates and his followers.

Juno. Here lies my hate, Æneas' cursèd brat,

The boy wherein false Destiny delights,

The heir of Fury, the favourite of the Fates,

That ugly imp that shall outwear my wrath,

And wrong my deity with high disgrace.

But I will take another order now,

And raze th' eternal register of Time:

Troy shall no more call him her second hope,

Nor Venus triumph in his tender youth;

For here, in spite of heaven, I'll murder him,

And feed infection with his let-out life.

Say, Paris, now shall Venus have the ball?

Say, vengeance, now shall her Ascanius die?

O, no! God wot, I cannot watch my time,

Nor quit good turns with double fee down told!

Tut, I am simple, without mind to hurt,

And have no gall at all to grieve my foes!

But lustful Jove and his adulterous child

Shall find it written on confusion's front,

That only Juno rules in Rhamnus' town.

Ven. What should this mean? my doves are back return'd,

Who warn me of such danger prest at hand

To harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.—

Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here?

Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not my wits.

Juno. Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrath

Should e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine!

Are not we both sprung of celestial race,

And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods?

Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin

Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites?

Ven. Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son,

Had not my doves discover'd thy intent:

But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head,

And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls,

If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.

Juno. Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall have

For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings,

That would have kill'd him, sleeping, as he lay?

What, though I was offended with thy son,

And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land,

When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede,

That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame,

And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball,

I muster'd all the winds unto his wreck,

And urg'd each element to his annoy?

Yet now I do repent me of his ruth,

And wish that I had never wrong'd him so.

Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fate

That hath so many unresisted friends:

Wherefore I chang'd my counsel with the time,

And planted love where envy erst had sprung.

Ven. Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such

As these thy protestations do paint forth,

We two, as friends, one fortune will divide:

Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap,

And to a sceptre change his golden shafts;