Page:The works of Christopher Marlowe - ed. Dyce - 1859.djvu/328

266 Æn. The air is clear, and southern winds are whist.

Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,

Since gloomy Æolus doth cease to frown.

Dido. Achates and Ascanius, well met.

Æn. Fair Anna, how escap'd you from the shower?

Anna. As others did, by running to the wood.

Dido. But where were you, Iarbas, all this while?

Iar. Not with Æneas in the ugly cave.

Dido. I see, Æneas sticketh in your mind;

But I will soon put by that stumbling-block,

And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.

Iar. Come, servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice,

That I may pacify that gloomy Jove,

Whose empty altars have enlarg'd our ills.—

Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,

Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts,

That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven,

When airy creatures war amongst themselves;

Hear, hear, O, hear Iarbas' plaining prayers,

Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl,

And all the woods Eliza to resound!

The woman that thou will'd us entertain,

Where, straying in our borders up and down,

She crav'd a hide of ground to build a town,

With whom we did divide both laws and land,

And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth,

Scorning our loves and royal marriage-rites,

Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed;

Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway fled:

Now, if thou be'st a pitying god of power,

On whom ruth and compassion ever waits,

Redress these wrongs, and warn him to his ships,

That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.

Anna. How now, Iarbas! at your prayers so hard?

Iar. Ay, Anna: is there aught you would with me?

Anna. Nay, no such weighty business of import

But may be slack'd until another time:

Yet, if you would partake with me the cause

Of this devotion that detaineth you,

I would be thankful for such courtesy.

Iar. Anna, against this Trojan do I pray,

Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love,

And dive into her heart by colour'd looks.

Anna. Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain

For her that so delighteth in thy pain!

Be rul'd by me, and seek some other love,

Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief.

Iar. Mine eye is fix'd where fancy cannot start:

O, leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts,

That register the numbers of my ruth,

And I will either move the thoughtless flint,

Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears,

Before my sorrow's tide have any stint!

Anna. I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love,

In this delight of dying pensiveness.

Away with Dido! Anna be thy song;

Anna, that doth admire thee more than heaven.

Iar. I may nor will list to such loathsome change,

That intercepts the course of my desire.—

Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here;

For I will fly from these alluring eyes,

That do pursue my peace where'er it goes.

Anna. Iarbas, stay, loving Iarbas, stay!

For I have honey to present thee with.

Hard-hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak?

I'll follow thee with outcries ne'ertheless,

And strew thy walks with my dishevell'd hair.

Æn. Carthage, my friendly host, adieu!

Since Destiny doth call me from thy shore:

Hermes this night, descending in a dream,

Hath summon'd me to fruitful Italy;

Jove wills it so; my mother wills it so:

Let my Phœnissa grant, and then I go.