Kitabı oku: «The Tragedy of Dido Queene of Carthage», sayfa 4
Who would not vndergoe all kind of toyle,
To be well stor'd with such a winters tale?
Dido. Æneas, leaue these dumpes and lets away, Some to the mountaines, some vnto the soyle, You to the vallies, thou vnto the house.
Exeunt omnes: manent.
Iar. I, this it is which wounds me to the death,
To see a Phrigian far fet to the sea,
Preferd before a man of maiestie:
O loue, O hate, O cruell womens hearts,
That imitate the Moone in euery chaunge,
And like the Planets euer loue to raunge:
What shall I doe thus wronged with disdaine?
Reuenge me on Æneas, or on her:
On her? fond man, that were to warre gainst heauen,
And with one shaft prouoke ten thousand darts:
This Troians end will be thy enuies aime,
Whose bloud will reconcile thee to content,
And make loue drunken with thy sweete desire:
But Dido that now holdeth him so deare,
Will dye with very tidings of his death:
But time will discontinue her content,
And mould her minde vnto newe fancies shapes:
O God of heauen, turne the hand of fate
Vnto that happie day of my delight,
And then, what then? Iarbus shall but loue:
So doth he now, though not with equall gaine,
That resteth in the riuall of thy paine,
Who nere will cease to soare till he be slaine. Exit.
The storme. Enter Æneas and Dido in the Caue at seuerall times.
Dido. Æneas.
Æn. Dido.
Dido. Tell me deare loue, how found you out this Caue?
Æn. By chance sweete Queene, as Mars and Venus met.
Dido. Why, that was in a net, where we are loose, And yet I am not free, oh would I were.
Æn. Why, what is it that Dido may desire And not obtaine, be it in humaine power?
Dido. The thing that I will dye before I aske, And yet desire to haue before I dye.
Æn. It is not ought Æneas may achieue?
Dido. Æneas no, although his eyes doe pearce.
Æn. What, hath Iarbus angred her in ought? And will she be auenged on his life?
Dido. Not angred me, except in angring thee.
Æn. Who then of all so cruell may he be, That should detaine thy eye in his defects?
Dido. The man that I doe eye where ere I am, Whose amorous face like Pean sparkles fire, When as he buts his beames on Floras bed, Prometheus hath put on Cupids shape, And I must perish in his burning armes: Æneas, O Æneas, quench these flames.
Æn. What ailes my Queene, is she falne sicke of late?
Dido. Not sicke my loue, but sicke, I must conceale The torment, that it bootes me not reueale; And yet Ile speake, and yet Ile hold my peace, Doe shame her worst, I will disclose my griefe: Æneas, thou art he, what did I say? Something it was that now I haue forgot.
Æn. What meanes faire Dido by this doubtfull speech?
Dido. Nay, nothing, but Æneas loues me not.
Æn. Æneas thoughts dare not ascend so high As Didos heart, which Monarkes might not scale.
Dido. It was because I sawe no King like thee,
Whose golden Crowne might ballance my content:
But now that I haue found what to effect,
I followe one that loueth fame for me,
And rather had seeme faire Sirens eyes,
Then to the Carthage Queene that dyes for him.
Æn. If that your maiestie can looke so lowe,
As my despised worths, that shun all praise,
With this my hand I giue to you my heart,
And vow by all the Gods of Hospitalitie,
By heauen and earth, and my faire brothers bowe,
By Paphos, Capys, and the purple Sea,
From whence my radiant mother did descend,
And by this Sword that saued me from the Greekes,
Neuer to leaue these newe vpreared walles,
Whiles Dido liues and rules in Iunos towne,
Neuer to like or loue any but her.
Dido. What more then delian musicke doe I heare,
That calles my soule from forth his liuing seate,
To moue vnto the measures of delight:
Kind clowdes that sent forth such a curteous storme,
As made disdaine to flye to fancies lap:
Stoute loue in mine armes make thy Italy,
Whose Crowne and kingdome rests at thy commande.
Sicheus, not Æneas be thou calde:
The King of Carthage, not Anchises sonne:
Hold, take these Iewels at thy Louers hand,
These golden bracelets, and this wedding ring,
Wherewith my husband woo'd me yet a maide,
And be thou king of Libia, by my guift.
Exeunt to the Caue
Actus 4. Scena 1
Enter Achates, Ascanius, Iarbus, and Anna.
Acha. Did euer men see such a sudden storme? Or day so cleere so suddenly orecast?
Iar. I thinke some fell Inchantresse dwelleth here,
That can call them forth when as she please,
And diue into blacke tempests treasurie,
When as she mcanes to maske the world with clowdes.
Anna. In all my life I neuer knew the like, It haild, it snowde, it lightned all at once.
Acha. I thinke it was the diuels reuelling night,
There was such hurly burly in the heauens:
Doubtles Apollos Axeltree is crackt,
Or aged Atlas shoulder out of ioynt,
The motion was soouer violent.
Iar. In all this coyle, where haue ye left the Queene?
Asca. Nay, where is my warlike father, can you tell?
Anna. Behold where both of them come forth the Caue.
Iar. Come forth the Caue: can heauen endure this sight?
Iarbus, curse that vnreuenging Ioue,
Whose flintie darts slept in Tiphous den,
Whiles these adulterers surfetted with sinne:
Nature, why mad'st me not some poysonous beast,
That with the sharpnes of my edged sting,
I might haue stakte them both vnto the earth,
Whil'st they were sporting in this darksome Caue?
Æn. The ayre is cleere, and Southerne windes are whist, Come Dido, let vs hasten to the towne, Since gloomie Æolus doth cease to frowne.
Dido. Achates and Ascanius, well met.
Æn. Faire Anna, how escapt you from the shower?
Anna. As others did, by running to the wood.
Dido. But where were you Iarbus all this while?
Iar. Not with Æneas in the vgly Caue.
Dido. I see Æneas sticketh in your minde, But I will soone put by that stumbling blocke, And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares. Exeunt.
Enters Iarbus to Sacrifice.
Iar. Come seruants, come bring forth the Sacrifize,
That I may pacifie that gloomie Ioue,
Whose emptie Altars haue enlarg'd our illes.
Eternall Ioue, great master of the Clowdes,
Father of gladnesse, and all frollicke thoughts,
That with thy gloomie hand corrects the heauen,
When ayrie creatures warre amongst themselues:
Heare, heare, O heare Iarbus plaining prayers,
Whose hideous ecchoes make the welkin howle,
And all the woods Eliza to resound:
The woman that thou wild vs entertaine,
Where straying in our borders vp and downe,
She crau'd a hide of ground to build a towne,
With whom we did deuide both lawes and land,
And all the fruites that plentie els sends forth,
Scorning our loues and royall marriage rites,
Yeelds vp her beautie to a strangers bed,
Who hauing wrought her shame, is straight way fled:
Now if thou beest a pitying God of power,
On whom ruth and compassion euer waites,
Redresse these wrongs, and warne him to his ships,
That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.
Enter Anna.
Anna. How now Iarbus, at your prayers so hard?
Iar. I Anna, is there ought you would with me?
Anna. Nay, no such waightie busines of import,
But may be slackt vntill another time:
Yet if you would partake with me the cause
Of this deuotion that detaineth you,
I would be thankfull for such curtesie.
Iar. Anna, against this Troian doe I pray, Who seekes to rob me of thy Sisters loue, And dive into her heart by coloured lookes.
Anna. Alas poore King that labours so in vaine.
For her that so delighteth in thy paine:
Be rul'd by me, and seeke some other loue,
Whose yeelding heart may yeeld thee more reliefe.
Iar. Mine eye is fixt where fancie cannot start,
O leaue me, leaue me to my silent thoughts,
That register the numbers of my ruth,
And I will either moue the thoughtles flint,
Or drop out both mine eyes in drisling teares,
Before my sorrowes tide haue any stint.
Anna. I will not leaue Iarbus whom I loue, In this delight of dying pensiuenes: Away with Dido, Anna be thy song, Anna that doth admire thee more then heauen.
Iar. I may nor will list to such loathsome chaunge,
That intercepts the course of my desire:
Seruants, come fetch these emptie vessels here,
For I will flye from these alluring eyes,
That doe pursue my peace where ere it goes. Exit.
Anna. Iarbus stay, louing Iarbus stay,
For I haue honey to present thee with:
Hard hearted, wilt not deigne to heare me speake,
Ile follow thee with outcryes nere the lesse,
And strewe thy walkes with my discheueld haire. Exit.
Enter Æneas alone.
Æn. Carthage, my friendly host adue, Since destinie doth call me from the shoare: Hermes this night descending in a dreame, Hath summond me to fruitfull Italy: Ioue wils it so, my mother wils it so: Let my Phenissa graunt, and then I goe: Graunt she or no, Æneas must away, Whose golden fortunes clogd with courtly ease, Cannot ascend to Fames immortall house, Or banquet in bright honors burnisht hall, Till he hath furrowed Neptunes glassie fieldes, And cut a passage through his toples hilles: Achates come forth, Sergestus, Illioneus, Cloanthus, haste away, Æneas calles.
Enter Achates, Cloanthus, Sergestus, and Illioneus.
Acha. What willes our Lord, or wherefore did he call?
Æn. The dreames (braue mates) that did beset my bed,
When sleepe but newly had imbrast the night,
Commaunds me leaue these vnrenowmed beames,
Whereas Nobilitie abhors to stay,
And none but base Æneas will abide:
Abourd, abourd, since Fates doe bid abourd,
And slice the Sea with sable coloured ships,
On whom the nimble windes may all day waight,
And follow them as footemen through the deepe:
Yet Dido casts her eyes like anchors out,
To stay my Fleete from loosing forth the Bay:
Come backe, come backe, I heare her crye a farre,
And let me linke my bodie to my lips,
That tyed together by the striuing tongues,
We may as one saile into Italy.
Acha. Banish that ticing dame from forth your mouth,
And follow your foreseeing starres in all;
This is no life for men at armes to liue,
Where daliance doth consume a Souldiers strength,
And wanton motions of alluring eyes,
Effeminate our mindes inur'd to warre.
Illio. Why, let vs build a Citie of our owne,
And not stand lingering here for amorous lookes:
Will Dido raise old Priam forth his graue,
And build the towne againe the Greekes did burne?
No no, she cares not how we sinke or swimme,
So she may haue Æneas in her armes.
Cloan. To Italy, sweete friends to Italy, We will not stay a minute longer here.
Æn. Troians abourd, and I will follow you,
I faine would goe, yet beautie calles me backe:
To leaue her so and not once say farewell,
Were to transgresse against all lawes of loue:
But if I vse such ceremonious thankes,
As parting friends accustome on the shoare,
Her siluer armes will coll me round about,
And teares of pearle, crye stay, Æneas, stay:
Each word she sayes will then containe a Crowne,
And euery speech be ended with a kisse:
I may not dure this female drudgerie,
To sea Æneas, finde out Italy. Exit.
Enter Dido and Anna.
Dido. O Anna, runne vnto the water side,
They say Æneas men are going abourd,
It may be he will steale away with them:
Stay not to answere me, runne Anna runne.
O foolish Troians that would steale from hence,
And not let Dido vnderstand their drift:
I would haue giuen Achates store of gold,
And Illioneus gum and Libian spice,
The common souldiers rich imbrodered coates,
And siluer whistles to controule the windes,
Which Circes sent Sicheus when he liued:
Vnworthie are they of a Queenes reward:
See where they come, how might I doe to chide?
Enter Anna, with Æneas, Achates, Illioneus, and Sergestus.
Anna. Twas time to runne, Æneas had been gone, The sailes were hoysing vp, and he abourd.
Dido. Is this thy loue to me?
Æn. O princely Dido, giue me leaue to speake, I went to take my farewell Achates.
Dido. How haps Achates bid me not farewell?
Acha. Because I feard your grace would keepe me here.
Dido. To rid thee of that doubt, abourd againe, I charge thee put to sea and stay not here.
Acha. Then let Æneas goe abourd with vs.
Dido. Get you abourd, Æneas meanes to stay.
Æn. The sea is rough, the windes blow to the shoare.
Dido. O false Æneas, now the sea is rough, But when you were abourd twas calme enough, Thou and Achates ment to saile away.
Æn. Hath not the Carthage Queene mine onely sonne? Thinkes Dido I will goe and leaue him here?
Dido. Æneas pardon me, for I forgot
That yong Ascanius lay with me this night:
Loue made me iealous, but to make amends,
Weare the emperiall Crowne of Libia,
Sway thou the Punike Scepter in my steede,
And punish me Æneas for this crime.
Æn. This kisse shall be faire Didos punishment.
Dido. O how a Crowne becomes Æneas head! Stay here Æneas, and commaund as King.
Æn. How vaine am I to weare this Diadem,
And beare this golden Scepter in my hand?
A Burgonet of steele, and not a Crowne,
A Sword, and not a Scepter fits Æneas.
Dido. O keepe them still, and let me gaze my fill:
Now lookes Æneas like immortall Ioue,
O where is Ganimed to hold his cup,
And Mercury to flye for what he calles,
Ten thousand Cupids houer in the ayre,
And fanne it in Æneas louely face,
O that the Clowdes were here wherein thou fleest,
That thou and I vnseene might sport our selues:
Heauens enuious of our ioyes is waxen pale,
And when we whisper, then the starres fall downe,
To be partakers of our honey talke.
Æn. O Dido, patronesse of all our liues,
When I leaue thee, death be my punishment,
Swell raging seas, frowne wayward destinies,
Blow windes, threaten ye Rockes and sandie shelfes,
This is the harbour that Æneas seekes,
Lets see what tempests can anoy me now.
Dido. Not all the world can take thee from mine armes,
Æneas may commaund as many Moores,
As in the Sea are little water drops:
And now to make experience of my loue,
Faire sister Anna leade my louer forth,
And seated on my Gennet, let him ride
As Didos husband through the punicke streetes,
And will my guard with Mauritanian darts,
To waite vpon him as their soueraigne Lord.
Anna. What if the Citizens repine thereat?
Dido. Those that dislike what Dido giues in charge,
Commaund my guard to slay for their offence:
Shall vulgar pesants storme at what I doe?
The ground is mine that giues them sustenance,
The ayre wherein they breathe, the water, fire,
All that they haue, their lands, their goods, their liues,
And I the Goddesse of all these, commaund
Æneas ride as Carthaginian King.
Acha. Æneas for his parentage deserues As large a kingdome as is Libia.
Æn. I, and vnlesse the destinies be false, I shall be planted in as rich a land.
Dido. Speake of no other land, this land is thine, Dido is thine, henceforth Ile call thee Lord: Doe as I bid thee, sister leade the way, And from a turret Ile behold my loue.
Æn. Then here in me shall flourish Priams race,
And thou and I Achates, for reuenge,
For Troy, for Priam, for his fiftie sonnes,
Our kinsmens loues, and thousand guiltles soules,
Will leade an hoste against the hatefull Greekes,
And fire proude Lacedemon ore their heads. Exit.
Dido. Speakes not Æneas like a Conqueror?
O blessed tempests that did driue him in,
O happie sand that made him runne aground:
Henceforth you shall be our Carthage Gods:
I, but it may be he will leaue my loue,
And seeke a forraine land calde Italy:
O that I had a charme to keepe the windes
Within the closure of a golden ball,
Or that the Tyrrhen sea were in mine armes,
That he might suffer shipwracke on my breast,
As oft as he attempts to hoyst vp saile:
I must preuent him, wishing will not serue:
Goe, bid my Nurse take yong Ascanius,
And beare him in the countrey to her house,
Æneas will not goe without his sonne:
