The Tragedy of Dido Queene of Carthage

And Helens rape doth haunt thee at the heeles.
How many dangers haue we ouer past?
Both barking Scilla, and the sounding Rocks,
The Cyclops shelues, and grim Ceranias seate
Haue you oregone, and yet remaine aliue!
Pluck vp your hearts, since fate still rests our friend,
And chaunging heauens may those good daies returne,
Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride.

Acha. Braue Prince of Troy, thou onely art our God,
That by thy vertues freest vs from annoy,
And makes our hopes suruiue to cunning ioyes:
Doe thou but smile, and clowdie heauen will cleare,
Whose night and day descendeth from thy browes:
Though we be now in extreame miserie,
And rest the map of weatherbeaten woe:
Yet shall the aged Sunne shed forth his aire,
To make vs liue vnto our former heate,
And euery beast the forrest doth send forth,
Bequeath her young ones to our scanted foode.

Asca. Father I faint, good father giue me meate.

Æn. Alas sweet boy, thou must be still a while,
Till we haue fire to dresse the meate we kild:
Gentle Achates, reach the Tinder boxe,
That we may make a fire to warme vs with,
And rost our new found victuals on this shoare.

Venus. See what strange arts necessitie findes out, How neere my sweet Æneas art thou driuen?

Æn. Hold, take this candle and goe light a fire, You shall haue leaues and windfall bowes enow Neere to these woods, to rost your meate withall: Ascanius, goe and drie thy drenched lims, Whiles I with my Achates roaue abroad, To know what coast the winde hath driuen vs on, Or whether men or beasts inhabite it.

Acha. The ayre is pleasant, and the soyle most fit
For Cities, and societies supports:
Yet much I maruell that I cannot finde,
No steps of men imprinted in the earth.

Venus. Now is the time for me to play my part:
Hoe yong men, saw you as you came
Any of all my Sisters wandring here?
Hauing a quiuer girded to her side,
And cloathed in a spotted Leopards skin.

Æn. I neither saw nor heard of any such:
But what may I faire Virgin call your name?
Whose lookes set forth no mortall forme to view,
Nor speech bewraies ought humaine in thy birth,
Thou art a Goddesse that delud'st our eyes,
And shrowdes thy beautie in this borrowd shape;
But whether thou the Sunnes bright Sister be,
Or one of chast Dianas fellow Nimphs,
Liue happie in the height of all content,
And lighten our extreames with this one boone,
As to instruct us vnder what good heauen
We breathe as now, and what this world is calde,
On which by tempests furie we are cast,
Tell vs, O tell vs that are ignorant,
And this right hand shall make thy Altars crack
With mountaine heapes of milke white Sacrifize.

Venus. Such honour, stranger, doe I not affect:
It is the vse for Turen maides to weare
Their bowe and quiuer in this modest sort,
And suite themselues in purple for the nonce,
That they may trip more lightly ore the lawndes,
And ouertake the tusked Bore in chase.
But for the land whereof thou doest enquire,
It is the punick kingdome rich and strong,
Adioyning on Agenors stately towne,
The kingly seate of Southerne Libia,
Whereas Sidonian Dido rules as Queene.
But what are you that aske of me these things?
Whence may you come, or whither will you goe?

Æn. Of Troy am I, Æneas is my name,
Who driuen by warre from forth my natiue world,
Put sailes to sea to seeke out Italy;
And my diuine descent from sceptred Iove,
With twise twelue Phrigian ships I plowed the deepe,
And made that way my mother Venus led:
But of them all scarce seuen doe anchor safe,
And they so wrackt and weltred by the waues,
As euery tide tilts twixt their oken sides:
And all of them vnburdened of their loade,
Are ballassed with billowes watrie weight.
But haples I, God wot, poore and vnknowne,
Doe trace these Libian deserts all despisde,
Exild forth Europe and wide Asia both,
And haue not any couerture but heauen.

Venus. Fortune hath fauord thee what ere thou be,
In sending thee vnto this curteous Coast:
A Gods name on and hast thee to the Court,
Where Dido will receiue ye with her smiles:
And for thy ships which thou supposest lost,
Not one of them hath perisht in the storme,
But are ariued safe not farre from hence:
And so I leaue thee to thy fortunes lot,
Wishing good lucke vnto thy wandring steps. Exit.