The passion of Dido for Æneas As it is incomparably exprest in the fourth book of Virgil. Translated by Edmund Waller & Sidney Godolphin, Esqrs. Aeneis. Book 4. English. Virgil. 1679 Approx. 40 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 42 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A65123 Wing V634 ESTC R219245 99830740 99830740 35194 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. A65123) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 35194) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1877:17) The passion of Dido for Æneas As it is incomparably exprest in the fourth book of Virgil. Translated by Edmund Waller & Sidney Godolphin, Esqrs. Aeneis. Book 4. English. Virgil. Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. Godolphin, Sidney Godolphin, Earl of, 1645-1712. [82] p. printed, and are to be sold by Peter Parker, at the Leg and Star over against the Royal Exchange in Cornhil, London : 1679. The translators names are in braces on the title page. Signatures: [A] B-E F⁴[-A1, A2, F4]. Imperfect: leaf F2 torn. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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TRANSLATED By Edmund Waller & Sidney Godolphin . Esq rs . — Ubi quid datur otî Illudo chartis : hoc est mediocribus illis Ex vitiis unum — Horat. l. Sat. 4 ● . LONDON , Printed , and are to be sold by Peter Parker , at the Leg and Star over against the Royal Exchange in Cornhil , 1679. The Argument . DIdo was espous'd a virgin to Sichaeus ; and both liv'd happy in their mutuall love , untill her brother Pigmalion , who was then King of Tyre , the place of their abode , by some close treachery slew Sichaeus in hopes to possesse his great wealth , and to dispose of his Wife ; All which , her husbands ghost appearing in her sleep , discovered ; telling her also where hee had hid a considerable treasure , of which Pigmalion knew not . This she took , and , in the company of such friends she could best trust , and most hated the Tyrant ; fled from thence to seeke her fortune in some safer place . At length arriving on the shore of Lybia , partly for mony , partly by the favour of some neighbour-Princes , affected with her beauty , and the hope to obtaine her in marriage , shee got possesion of that ground where the famous Citty of Carthage was afterwards built ; whose foundation she had not only laid , but made some good progresse in the structure ; when the wandring Trojan Aeneas was by Tempest Shipwrackt on some part of her dominion . His great Fame , good mine , and well relating of his story , prevailed so with her that shee not only repair'd his Ships , and feasted him and his Company with great magnificence ; but let him so far into her affection , That she esteemed him , ( at least did not doubt but to make him ) her husband . When his necessary pursuit of other designes occasioned his sudden Departure , and her Tragedy . This fourth book describing only hir passion , deep sense of his ingratitude , and hir death , has been alwayes esteemed the best piece of the best of Poets ; has been translated into all Languages , and in our days at least ten times by severall Pens , into English. It is freely left to the Reader ; which he will preferre . This was done ( all but a very little ) by that incomparable person as well for virtue as wit , Mr. Sidney Godolphin only for his own divertion , and with lesse care , then so exact a judgment as his would have used , if he had intended it should have ever been made publick . THE PASSION OF DIDO FOR AENEAS . Translated out of the fourth Book Of VIRGIL . MEan while the Queen fanning a secret fire , In her own breast revolves her deepe Desire she oft reflects upon the princely grace Of great Aeneas , and that noble race From whence he springs ; her wounded fancy feeds On his discourse , his high Heroick deeds , His words his looks , her waking thoughts imploy , And when she sleepes , she sees him with more joy , But seldome sleeps : For when the shades of night Had left their Empire to the rising Light , Folding her Sister in her armes , she sayes , What unacquainted thoughts , what dreams are these ▪ How great a Guest within our walls we hold , How wise in Counsell , and in Armes how bold ? The mortall seed of man acknowledge feare But this brave Prince his equall mind doth beare Above all Chance . Did not my changelesse vow And mine owne will engage me to allow No other Love ; my first Affection dead And with the Soul of my Sichaeus fled : Were not all joyes growne tastlesse , and the name Of Love offensive , since I lost that flame ; I might perhaps indulge this one desire . For , Anna , I confesse since funerall fire Embrac'd Sichaeus , this first beame of Light Hath offered comfort to so dark a night , Unwonted motions in my thoughts retriv'd , I find and feel the brand of care reviv'd . But may the earth , while yet alive , devoure This haplesse frame , and Jove his thunder poure Upon my head , and sink me to that shade That silent deep , whence no returne is made ▪ Before I doe those sacred Knots unty , Which bind me to so deare a memory . He first unto my soul this ardor gave , And may he hold it in his quiet grave , This said , she weeps afresh . Anna replyes , O Chiefly Lov'd and Dearer then mine eyes , Sad and alone for ever wil you wast Your verdant youth , nor natures bounties taste In their due-season ? think you that the dead In their cold urns welcome the tears we shead ? What though no prayrs have yet had power to move Your thoughts to entertain a second love ; Yet vvill you now with your own heart contest ? Nor give admittance to a pleasing guest ? Consider where this new Plantation lyes , And amidst whom these wall● of Carthage rise : Here the Getulians , fierce Numidians there , On either side engage your watchfull fear . Propitious Heaven● it seems , and Juno lead These Trojans here with so desir'd an aid : This match will mixe your fortunes and advance The Tyrian State above all force or chance . Invoke the powers above , with so●t delay Engage the Dardan Prince to longer s●ay : Till the swoln Seas and winds their fury spend , And Calmer Gales his purposes attend . This speech revives the Courage of the Dame And through her burning veines dilates the flame . First to the holy temple they repaire And seek indulgence from above by praire : Law-giving Ceres , Phoebus they invoke , But above all do Venus Altars smoke Propitious to the bands of Love ; the Queen With her own hands , the Heifer's horns between , Poures the full bowls , or midst the sacrifice Intentive walkes , as the rich Odours rise Fresh gifts she brings , and with a thought full brain Surveyes the panting Livers of the slain ; Blind prophesies , Vain Altars , bootlesse Prayer How little help they ? while so neer a care Presses the Queen and mingled with her bloud Spreads secret poyson through the purple ●●oud . The Haplesse Dido is enrag'd by love , And with uncertain thoughts doth wildly move . So when a Shepheards roving Arrows find And pierce ( to him unknown ) some careless Hind She flyes through woods and seeks the streames opprest The deadly Arrow rankles in her breast . Now to the Walls she leads her Trojan Chief , And with this food she entertain'd her grief Shevvs the Sidonian-vvealth , and , as she speaks , Her ovvn discourse by care diverred breaks ; The evening closes vvith another ●east And there again sh'invites the princely Guest To tell his dangers past , and there again She drinks together deeper Love and Pain . But vvhen the Prince ( night's darker ensign spread And sleepy dew upon all Mortails shed ) Doth bid farewell , she waking there alone Deserted mourns that her Dear Guest is gone ▪ Or keeps Ascanius in her Armes , to prove If likenesse can delude her restlesse Love. Mean while her stately structures slowly rise , Halfe-finisht Carthage rude and broken lyes . That high design , to heaven exalted frame , Confus'd appears , and li●e a ruine lame . Which when survey'd by Juno from above And that the Queen neglects her fame for love ▪ Approaching Venus , thus Saturnia sayes : What ample Trophies , never-dying prayse , To you and to your Cupid will be paid ? That two such Gods one woman have betray'd . I know with what designe you us'd this Art Planting Aeneas thus in Dido's heart , Suspecting least these walls of Ours might prove Faithlesse to him if not secur'd by Love ▪ But shall this partiall quarrell never cease ? May we not now ●ixe on eternall peace ? Fair Dido loves and feels your golden Dart ; Give but like ardour to Aeneas Heart , And we wil rule this State with equall power , And give the Trojan Carthage for a Dower . Venus replyes ( seeing the wife of Jove To crosse the height of Roman greatnesse strove With this deceit ) , What madnesse can refuse Friendship with you where you a friendship chuse ? But whether Jove will favour this designe And the great people in one Empire joyn ; This in your prayers , who are his wife , doth lye . Juno returns ; Impose this taske on me , For what is now in hand let this suffice . The Trojan Prince with his unhappy prize The wounded Queen , to chase the flying Dear Soon as the beams of Morning-light appeare Hyes to the Fields ; there , on the goodly traine A darkning shower I 'le pour of hayl and raine , Shake heaven with thunder , while the pale troop rid● Disperst with fear and lo●t without a guide : One Cave in her dark bosome shall afford Shelter to Dido and the Trojan Lord , And if , as I , propitious to their love You shine ; this shall their Hymeneall prove ; All rites shall here be done . Venus with smiles Consents , but laughs within , at Juno's wiles . The morning come , early at light 's first ray The gallant youth rise with the chearfull day : ●harp Javelins in their hands , their Coursers by They walke amidst the hound's impatient Cry : Neerer the gates the Tyrian Peers artend , And waite the Queen now ready to descend . Her prouder Steed as fill'd with high disdain ●tamps the dull Earth , & Chavves the frothy Reine . Mounted at last , her golden Quiver on ●y'd up with gold , her Hair which gold-like shone Her purple garment , claspt with gold , in head Of her fair troop , the brighter Queen doth lead With these the Trojans , and their great Chief close As one fair stream into another flows . He like Apollo in his light and heat When he returnes unto his Native ●ear Of Delos , and fresh verdure doth restore Forsaking Xanthus and the Lycian shore Thus he on Cynthus tops , his own retreat Securely walkes , thus welcome and thus great ●he Dryop●ans and the Cretans by , ●o doth his quiver clash ; not lesse then he Aeneas shines , like beauty's in his face And in his motions like attractive grace . While thus they climb the pathless hills , the cry ●ursuesthe fearfull heards which headlong fly ●own to the vales , and on the boundlesse plain 〈◊〉 longer chase in view of all maintain . But glad Ascanius spurrs his willing horse ●ow these , now those , out-passing in the Course . He wishes some incensed Bore his prey , Or Lyon from the Hills would Cross his way . Mean while the gathering Clouds obscure th● Po●● They flash out lightning and in Thunder roule : A bitter storme succeeds , the troops divide And ore the Hills disperst to Coverts ride . One Cave in her dark bosome doth afford Shelter to Dido and the Trojan Lord. Heaven shines with fire , earth shakes at this success The Conscious air is fill'd with Prodigies . This was the hour , which gave the fatall blow , The pregnant spring of all succeeding woe . Tender respects no more have power to move The haplesse Queen , no more she hides her love , But doth hir Crime express with Hymens name , And lives expos'd a Theame to various fame . Fame the most swift of ills , which in her course And motion spreads , and flying gathers force Sprung from a scarce discerned seed , doth tread On the Low ground , but lifts to heaven her head . She ( as 't is said ) was of that monstrous birth The latest Sister , which the teeming earth Brought forth , to war with heaven it self alone ; Surviving all her brothers overthrown . Thousands of plumes advance her easie flight , As many eyes enlarge her piercing sight , As many eares to catch reports , and then As many tongues to spread those tales agen , The silent night cannot the voyce allay Of this ill boading Dame , in the bright day She sits upon the Citty walls a spy And takes delight all fears to multiply : She now through Lybia's Empire doth diffuse Talk of Aeneas , and th' unwelcome news Of Dido's love , that he late fled from Troy Such envi'd power and greatness doth enjoy . This the leight Dame proclames in every Ear And to Iarbas doth the message bear ; Iarbas who had felt fair Didos scorne , Joves Son of ravisht Garamant is born , Who hallowed had to his great father's name An hundred altars , which together flame With ceaseless incense to the powers above , Eternall fires pledges of humble love . Mad with the news , the Lybian Monarch layes Prostrate himself before the Throne , and sayes ; All powerfull Jove , propitious to the Moors Whom Lybia more then any Land adores Beholdst thou this ? or doth in vain our fear Ascribe just vengeance to the Thunderer ? She , who a stranger with out leave have gain'd Possession here , from us the power obtain'd To plant a Town , hath thought her self above The prize and merit of our Ardent Love ; Yet now with joy receives into our Land The flying Trojan and his Conquered band , Resignes to him her beauty , fame , and power , Prefers the Phrygian to the scorned Moore . Is this our pay , our recompence , while we Consume our flocks in sacrifice to thee ? While thus he pours his grief before the shrines And Sacred Altars ; mighty Jove inclines , Looking on Carthage and the amorous paire Who in their pleasure quench all nobler care . He thus bespeaks his swift Ambassadour ; Go , Son , and hie thee to the Tyrian shore And to the Dardan Prince ( whose generous fire Is now betrayed by Love , and low desire ) This message bear , 'T was not this destiny His fairest Mother promis'd us when she Preserv'd him from the powerfull Arms of Grece ; She gave us then far other hopes then these , That he from conquer'd Alba should extend His Empire to the Worlds remotest end , And spread the fame of Teucer's mighty race . If in his thoughts these honours have no place , If he have lost all sense of high renown ; Ah can he yet envy the Towers of Rome To his Ascanius and fair Latium's sway ? This message to the Phrygian Prince convay , And bid him hoise his sayles ▪ Swift Mercury Takes the command , and through the Ayr doth fly His shining wings of Gold , and in his hand The Ensigne , of his power , his sacred wand ; That wand which long-clos'd eyes doth blesse with light And seals up others in erernall night . With this he cuts the Ayr , and yielding Clouds ; At length sees Atlas top , Atlas which shrouds His pine-Crown'd head in Heaven , and doth sustain Incessant stormes of new form'd wind and rain . Here first he stoops low as the earth , and then Imployes his wings with all their speed agen : Till the vast seas orepast and Lybia's sands He slacks his Course at Carthage , and there Lands . Where when arriv'd he finds the Trojan King Viewing the Walls , intent in ordering The strength and beauty of the new-rais'd Town To whom the wing'd Cyllenius thus begun : Ah , too , too mindlesse of your own affairs , Your thoughts immerst in lesse concerning cares , Can you in Tyrian wealth and greatness joy ? And Carthage build , forgetfull of your Troy ? Great Jove , who rules and fills the spacious All The evermoving Spheers , the fixed Ball , Sends me to aske , With what unblest design You do the hopes of better fates resigne , And glory due to Teucer's mighty race : If in your thoughts these honours have no place , If you have lost all sense of high renown ; Ah , can you yet envy the towers of Rome To your Ascanius , and fair Latium's sway ? Hermes ( this said ) returns the ayery way He came ; but cold Amazement doth surprize Aeneas speechlesse tongue and fixed Eyes : His pious fears urge him in haste to fly The too Lov'd Land and dear captivity . But this resolv'd , what way is left t'infuse Th' unhappy Queen with this unwelcome news ? A thousand counsells wander in his mind Now here , now there , successively inclin'd This he prefers , he calls Eurilochus The bold Cloanthus , trusted Mnestheus , Gives them in charge that they the fleet prepare Gather their troops but yet disguise their care That he mean while will to the Queen impart At some fit time his much divided heart : Or when his Canvas-wings are spread to fly Impute to heaven the sad Necessity . Thus he resolves and thus commands these Peers But nothing can escape the wakefull fears Of the enamour'd Queen , whose tender breast Presages all , by the first change imprest Before the ill arrives : already Fame ( Which lately did the Lybian Prince inflame ) Now takes delight to spred this ill report , That the glad Phygians ●o their ships resort Preparing flight . The Jealous Queen pursues Through every part the much amazing news . The more she hears , the more inrag'd with grief Shee thus at last invades the Trojan Chief . Could thy dissembling heart consent to fly This Hated Land in cruell secrecy ? Perfidious man , canst thou so soon remove The bands of vows , and dearer bands of Love ? Nor spare one word ? nor shed one tear to save My Life descending to the cruell grave ? Why yet in Winter to the storming Maine Dost thou expose thy wandring slcet again ? Cruell and false ! didst thou not seek a land Unknown ? did now the Antient Ilium stand , Were this a time through hazards such as these To seek thy Troy through Winter winds and Seas ? VVhom dost thou flye ? By these unfained tears I do adjure thee , by these loving fears , By my own life , or ( what is more ) by thine , By all that hath oblig'd Thee yet of mine , Pitty my fall , and shew at least some grace To these my prayrs , if prayrs may yet have place , For thee , the hate and envy I support Of the Numidians and the Lybian Court ; For thee I have displeas'd my Own , and lost That modesty , which I alone could boast ; That better fame , by which I had surviv'd My funerall fire and after death had liv'd . What have I left , or whither shall I fly ? Shall I attend Pigmalion's cruelty ? Or till Iarbus do in fetters Lead The proud despiser of his love and bed ? I never could have thought my self undone , Had but kind Heaven indulg'd me with a Son Resembling thee , in whose ( though Childish ) face I might retrive thy Look and princely grace . Sad Dido pauses here . The Trojan Chief Restrains within the motions of his grief , Then thus replyes ; You never can repeat , Great Queen , the sum of my unquestion'd Debt . Nor while my active Soul informes this frame , Ever shall I forget Eliza's Name . I urge no more , Let it suffice that I In thanklesse silence never meant to fly ; Nor did I ever to those bonds pretend Which now you charge me as a faithlesse friend ; Had I bin trusted to design my fate , When Troy betrayed fell by the Grecians hate , I from the ashes of that dear-lov'd Town Had there restor'd another Ilium . But now the Lycian Oracle commands , A pollo now assignes th' Ausonian Lands , And thither bids us send our thoughts and care And only fix our expectation there , Fair Carthage you and your own work survay A stranger born a forrain Scepter sway . And shall it be a crime ( ah lass ! ) if we Desire at last to rest in Italy ? No night doth pass in which I do not see The old Anchises image beckning me ; Nor is there day in which I not reflect On my Ascanius , and that lov'd aspect To whom by fate th' Hesperian Town is due . Hither of late Joves winged Herald flew Nor did he in delusive Dreams appear ; A wake , I did the angry message hear . Then fairest Queen do not this fate withstand , Unwillingly I leave your Happy Land. While thus he talks , the much distempered Dame Incenst within , breaks forth into this flame . Nor wer 't thou of the gentle Goddesse breed , Nor art thou sprung from great Anchises seed , Perfidious man ! but from some savage stock Hewn from the Marble of some Mountain Rock For why should I disguise this height of ill And still deceiv'd expect new favour still ? Did he let fall one pittying word , one tear ? Or did he with one sigh my passion hear ? What shall I do ? for now alasse , I see That neither Juno daignes to favour me , Nor Jove himself looks down with equall eyes , The earth is faithlesse , faithlesse are the skies . Shipwrackt and cast upon the barren shore , Pursu'd by cruell fates , forsaken , poor , I gave thee harbour in my simple breast Ah ill-advis'd , ah too-unmindfull guest I sav'd thy fleet , thy friends , and faithlesse Thee ; But now ( for sooth ) Apollo's Augury The Oracles are urged to incite , And angry Jove commands thy sudden flight , Is Heaven concern'd ? doth care of humane fate Disturb the calmenesse of th' Immortall State ? Thou hearst me not , regardlesse of my cry , Go then and through the Seas seek Italy , Through the deaf Seas and through the angry Wind , And such compassion as thou usest find : There mayst thou call on Dido's name in vain , I le follow thee , be present in thy paine . And when cold death shall this mixt-frame divide , My Ghost shall lacquey by thy frighted side , Thou dearly shalt repent ; the news of this Shall overtake my soul , and give it blisse . Nor waiting answer from the Prince she flyes , And wishes she had power to shun all eyes But fainting soon and to her chamber led She threw her self upon her Ivory bed . Pious Aeneas , though his noble breast Softned by love was with much grief opprest , Though faine he would with gentle words asswage The Queens high passion and divert hir rage , Suspends not yet his Heaven-inspired care But does his fleet without delay prepare . The Trojans ply the work , the busie Maine Is fill'd with noise , the Ships now float again : On every side are seen descending down Long troops which bring provision from the Town . So when the winter-fearing Ants invade Some heaps of Corn the Husbandman had made ; The Sable Army marches , and with prey Laden return , pressing the Leafy way , Some help the weaker , and their shoulders lend , Others the order of the march attend , Bring up the troops , and punish all delay . What were thy thoughts , sad Dido , on that day ? How deep thy sighs ? when from thy Tower above Thou seest the Phrygians in such order move And hear'st the Tumult of the Clamorous Sea. All-conquering Love ! who can resist thy sway ? Once more the Queen to humble tears descends , And Language to her grief once more she lends , That she might leave no remedy untry'd Nor Counsell unexplor'd , before she dy'd . Anna , she said , thou seest the peopled Sea , The Phrygians now their fatall Anchors weigh Ready to loose ; I feel their great Chief's scorn Which if foreseen I might perhaps have born . But now I make this one , this last request , You in this faithlesse man have interest You know his gentlest times , and best can find What wayes are left to mollify his mind . Go then and use all Pitty-moving Art And if you can soften his harder heart . Not I at Aulis , did with Greece conspire Nor did I bring one brand to Troy's last fire I never rent Anchises Honour'd Tomb , Why should he then my sad entreaty shun ? I do not urge ( as once ) our marriage tyes Those sacred bonds which now he does despise , Nor that he would fair Italy resigne I only aske respite , and breathing time , Till my dejected mind learne to comply ( Taught by degrees ) with so great misery . ¶ All this her weeping Sister does repeat To the sterne man , whom nothing could intreat . Lost here her prayrs and fruit lesse were her tears , Fate and great Jove had stop't his gentle Eares . As when loud winds a well-grown Oak would rend Up by the roots , this way and that they bend His reeling Trunk , and with a boisterous sound Scatter his leaves and strew them on the ground : He fixed stands , as deep his root dothly Down to the Center as his top is high . No lesse on every side the Hero prest Feels Love and pitty shake his noble brest . And down his Cheeks though fruitlesse tears do roul , Unmov'd remaines the purpose of his soul. Then Dido urged with approaching fate Begins the light of cruell Heaven to hate ; Her resolution to dispatch and dye Confirm'd by many a horrid prodigy . The water consecrate for sacrifice Appears all black to her amazed eyes The wine to putrid bloud converted flows Which from her , none , not her own sister knows . Besides there stood as sacred to her Lord A marble Temple which she much ador'd , With snowy fleeces and fresh garlands Crown'd , Hence every night proceeds a dreadfull sound . Her husbands voyce invites her to his Tomb And dismall Owls presage the ills to come , Besides , the prophefies of Wizards old Increast her terrour and her fall foretold , Scorn'd and deserted to her self she seems And finds Aeneas cruell in her dreames , So , to mad Pentheus , double Thebes appears , And furies howle in his distempered eares . Orestes so with like Distraction tost Is made to fly his Mothers angry ghost . Now grief and fury at their height arrive , Death she decrees , and thus does it contrive . Her grieved Sister with a cheerfull grace ( Hope well-dissembled shining in her face ) She thus deceives . ( Dear Sister ) let us prove The cure I have invented for my love . Beyond the Land of Aethiopia lyes The place where Atlas doth support the skies ; Hence came an old Magician that did keep Th' Hesperian fruit , and made the Dragon sleep . Her potent charmes do troubled souls relieve And where she lists , makes calmest minds to grieve , The course of Rivers or of Heaven can stop , And call trees down from th'ayry mountains top . Witnesse the Gods , and thou my dearest part , How loath am I to tempt this guilty Art. Erect a pile , and on it let us place That bed where I my ruine did imbrace . With all the reliques of our impious guest , Armes , spoyles , and presents ; Let the Pile be drest , ( The knowing-woman thus prescribes ) that we May rouz the man out of our memory ; Thus speaks the Queen , but hides the fatall end For which she doth those sacred rites pretend . Nor worse effects of grief her Sister thought Would follow , than Sychaeus murder wrought , Therefore obeys her ; and now heaped high The Cloven Oaks and lofty Pines do ly , Hung all with wreaths and flowry Garlands round ; So by her self was her own funerall Crown'd . Upon the top , the Trojan image lyes , And his sharp Sword wherewith anon she dyes . They by the altar stand , while with loose hair The Magick Prophetess begins her prayr On Chao's , Erebus , and all the Gods , Which in th' infernall shades , have their aboads She loudly calls besprinkling all the room With drops suppos'd from Lethes lake to come . She seeks the knot which on the forehead grows Of newfoal'd Colts , and herbs by moon-light mowes . A Cake of Leven in her pious hands Holds the devoted Queen and barefoot stands , One tender foot was bare , the other shod , Her robe ungirt , invoking every God And every power , if any be above Which takes regard of ill-requited love . Now was the time when weary mortalls steep Their carefull temples in the dew of sleep . On seas on earth , and all that in them dwell A deathlike quiet , and deep silence fell , But not on Dido , whose untamed mind Refus'd to be by sacred night confin'd . A double passion in her breast does move Love and fierce anger for neglected Love , Thus she afflicts her soul , What shall I doo With fate inverted , shall I humbly woo ? And some proud Prince in wild Numidia born Pray to a●cept me and forget my scorn ? Or shall I with th' ungratefull Trojan goe , Quit all my state , and waite upon my Foe ? Is not enough by sad experience known , The perjur'd race of false Laomedon ? With my Sidonians shall I give them chase ? Bands hardly forced from their native place ? No , dy , and let this sword thy fury tame , Nought but thy bloud can quench thy guilty flame . Ah Sister ! vanquisht with my passion thou Betraidst me first , dispensing with my vow . Had I bin constant to Sycheus still And single-liv'd , I had not known this ill . Such thoughts torment the Queen's inraged breast , While the Dardanian does securely rest In his tall ship for sudden flight prepar'd , To whom once more the Son of Jove appear'd : Thus seem'd to speak the youthfull Diety , Voice , Hair , and Col●ur all like Mercury . Fair Venus seed ! Canst thou indulge thy sleep ? Nor better guard in such great danger keep , Mad by neglect to lose so fair a wind ? If here thy ships the purple morning find , Thou shalt behold this hostile harbour shine With a new fleet , and fire , to ruine thine . She meditates revenge resolv'd to dy , Weigh anchor quickly , and her fury fly . This said , the God in shades of Night retir'd Amaz'd Aeneas with the warning fir'd Shakes off dull sleep , and rouzing up his men , Behold ! the Gods command our flight agen , Fall to your oars , and all your Canvas spread , What God soe'er that thus vouchsaf'st to lead We follow gladly and thy will obey , Assist us stil smoothing our happy way , And make the rest propitious . With that word He cuts the Cable with his shining sword ; Through all the Navy doth like ardour raign They quit the shore and rush into the Main Plac't on their banks , the lusty Trojan sweep Nuptunes smooth face , and cleave the yielding deep . Aurora now leaving her watry bed , Colours the East with a presaging Red ; Soon as the Dawn began to cleer the sky , Down to the shore the sad Queen cast her Ey ; Where when she doth the empty port survay , And now the fleet with wings display'd at Sea , Her hands held up , her golden tresses torne , Must we , saies she , of force indure this scorn ? Can we not have recourse to arms ? not meet This fraud with fraud ? not burn this wicked fleet ? Hast fly , pursue , row , and let every hand Snatch up with speed some swift revenging brand . Where am I now ? alass what words are these How late this hope ? see how they plow the seas , Unhappy Dido ! cruell fate devoures Thy wretched Life , thou feel'st the angry powers , This rage had once bin f●tter then thy love , See how he doth his far-fam'd faith approve ! He who through burning Ilium ( as they say ) Did bear his Country gods untoucht away , Who through the flames the old Anchises led , Why saw I not the perjur'd Villain dead ? Why did I not on slaine Iulus feast And at that banquet make the Father guest ? Suppose there had bin doubt in the successe What could I fear of all left comfortless ? I should have ruin'd all , Father and Son , And the whole stock , and then my self among . Thou Sun who with thy light dost all survay , And Juno , witnesse to that fatall day , Which seal'd our loves , revengefull Hecat● , And all ye powers that see Eliza dy Receive these prayrs , if , all sea-dangers past , The Trojan needs must reach some shore at last ; If nothing can withstand this fixt decree , A peacefull land yet may he never see . War entertain him and a haughty foe And may he never one calme slumber know . Hatred pursue him , furies give him chase And rend Iülus from his dear imbrace ; Himself at last without a grave expos'd A prey to Vultures in no urne inclos'd . I forme my latest breath into this prayer : And ò ye Tyrians be it then your care T' afflict with war this race in time to come , And send such bloudy offerings to my Tomb. Our seas their seas , our shores their shores oppose , Our armes their armes , and be our Children foes : Here sighing deep revolving in her mind , What way she might the freeest passage find From hated life . Bercea standing by Nurse to Sycheus ; Dearest nurse , saies she , Go call my Sister , tell her I prepare The magick rites , ordain'd to heal my care . But be she first with water sprinkled thrice And with her bring th'appoynted sacrifice . And you , with pious wreaths your temples bound , Enter the circle of the holy ground : I le give the Trojans Image to the fire , As that consumes so shall my grief expire . The aged Nurse obeys with trembling hast And now the Queen all bounds of sorrow past Her heart opprest , her Visage wan and pale And her whole mind bent on her funerall , Goes to the place , where stood the sacred Pile ; And here diverted by her grief a while Melted in tears , at first she doth behold The Trojans Image , sword , and robes of gold . Dear reliques , saies she , while the powers above Were so content , the objects of my love , But now my sad reproaches ; at that word She mounts the Pile , and draws the shining sword . What 't is to live , enough saies she I know ; And to the wil of fate I nothing ow. Nor shall I now a worthlesse Ghost descend , Having with honour first reveng'd my friend , Built him a stately Town , happy and more Had the false Trojan never toucht this shore . Then lifting up her hands to strike , shall I Dye unreveng'd she saies , however dy . Forsaken thus , thus to the shades I hast , And blot out all remembrance of the past . May the false Trojan see these flames from far And in his thoughts the fatal omen bare ! With this the bloud came rushing from her side Deep in her breast the reeking sword was dy'd . Her frighted Servants in distraction run And with their Cries they fill th' amazed Town . Such is the noise when the prevailing foes Enter a breach and slaughter over-flowes . Her frantick Sister with a furious pace Pierc't to the heart comes running to the place . Ah Dearest ! saies she , was this fraud for me These altars drest , for such a tragedy ? Why was I not invited to thy fate , Nor made thy Partner in thy worst estate ? Ah! you have slain your self and me and all People and Nobles in one funerall . O give me leave , if yet you not resign Your latest breath , to suck that soul with mine . With that she doth the high rais'd Pile ascend And weeping doth imbrace her dying friend , Thrice on her armes the Queen supports her head And thrice again falls grovelling on her bed . Thrice with disclos'd eyes she seeks the light And thrice with sighing folds again her sight . Then Juno looking with a pittying ey Upon so sad and lasting misery Since deepest wounds can no free passage give To self-destroyers who refuse to live Sent Iris down to cut the fatall hayr Which done , her whole life vanisht into Ayr ; FINIS .