CERTAIN BOOKS OF VIRGILES Aenaeis turned into English metre by the right honourable lord, Henry Earl of Surrey.  
Apud Ricardum Tottel. Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum. .1557.   

The second book of Virg: Aenaeis:  

The gates cast up, we issued out to play,  
The Greekish camp desirous to behold,  
The places void and the forsaken costs.  
Here Pyrthus band, there force Achilles pight:  
Here road their shipyes, there did their battles join.  
Astonnied some the scathefull gift beheld,  
Behight by vow unto the chaste Minerut:  
All wondering at the hugeness of the horse.   

And first of all Timostes 'gan advise,  
Within the walls to lead and draw the same,  
And place it eke amid the palace court:  
Whether of guile, or Troy's fate it would.  
Tapys, with some of judgement more discrete,  
wild it to drown, or underset with flame  
The suspect present of the Greeks deceit,  
Or bore and gauge the hollow caves uncouth.  
So diverse ran the giddy people's mind.   

Lo foremost of a rout, that followed him,  
Rindled laocoon hasted from the tower,  
trying far of: Owreched citizens,  
What so great kind of frenzy fretteth you?  
deem ye the Greeks our enemies to be gone?  
Or any Greekish gifts can you suppose  
Devoid of guile? Is so Ulysses known?  
Either the Greeks are in this timber hid:  
Or this an engine is to annoy our walies,  
To view our towers, and over whelm our town.  
Here lurks some craft. Good Trojans, give no trust  
Unto this horse, for what so ever it be,  
I dread the Greeks, yea when they offer gystes.  
And with that word, with all his force a dart  
He lanced then into that crooked womb:  
Which tremling stock, and shaken within the side.  
Wherewith the caves 'gan hollowly resound.  
And but for faites, and forour blind forecast,  
The Greeks devise and guile had he descried:  
Troy yet had stand, and Priam's towers so high.   

Therewith behold, whereas the Phrygian herds  
Brought to the king, with clamour, all unknown  
A youngman, bound his hands behind his back;  
What willingly had yelden prisoner,  
To frame his guile, and open Troy's gates.  
Unto the Greeks: with courage fully bend,  
And mind determed either of the rwaine,  
To work his feat, or willing yield to death.  
Near him, to gese, the Trojan youth 'gan flock,  
And sleaue who most might at the captive scorn.  
The Greeks deceit behold, and by one proof  
Imagine all the rest.  
For in the press as he unarmed stood,  
With troubled there, and Phrygian routs besee,  
Alas (quoth he) what earth now, or what seas  
May me receive? Catif, what rests me now?  
For whom in Grece doth no abode remain:  
The Troyans' eke offended seek to wroke  
Their heinous wrath with shedding of my blood.  
With this regret our hearts from rancour moved,  
The brute appeasde we asked him of his birth,  
What news he brought, what hope made him to yield.   

Then he (all dread removed) thus began.  
O King: I shall, what ever me betid,  
Say but the truth: ne first will me deny  
A Grecian borne. for though for time hath made  
Sinon a wretch, she can not make him false.  
If ever came unto your cares the name  
Nobled by fame of the sage Palamede,  
Whom traitorously the Greeks condemned to die,  
Guiltless by wrongful doom, for that he did  
Dyssuade the wars: whose death they now lament:  
underneth him my father bare of wealth  
Into his band young, and near of his blood,  
In my prime years unto the war me sent.  
While that by fate his state in stay did stand,  
And when his realm did flourish by advise,  
Of glory than we bore some fame and brute.  
But sins his death, by false Ulyssez sleight  
(I speak of things to all men well beknown)  
A dreary life in doleful plaint I led,  
Repining at my guiltless friends mischance.  
Ne could I fool refret my tongue from threats:  
That if my chance were ever to return  
Victor to Arge, to follow my revenge,  
With such sharp words procured I great hate.  
Here sprang my harm. Ulysses ever sith  
With new found crimes began me to affray:  
In common cares false rumours 'gan he sow:  
Weapons of wreak his guilty mind 'gan seke:  
Ne rested ay, till he by Calchas mean.  
But whereunto these thankless tales in vain  
Do I rehearse, and linger fourth the time?  
In like estate if all the Greeks ye price:  
It is enough ye here: rid me at ones.  
Ulysses (Lord) how he would this rejoice?  
Yea and either Atride would buy it dear.   

This kindled us more eager to inquire,  
And to demand the cause: without suspect  
Of so great mischief thereby to ensue.  
Or of Greeks craft. He then with forged words,  
And quivering limbs, thus took his tale again.   

The Greeks oft times intended their return,  
From Troy town, with long wars all ytired,  
For to dislodge: which would god they had done.  
But oft the winter storms of raging seas,  
And oft the boisterous winds did them to stay:  
And chief when of clinched ribs of fir  
This horse was made, the storms roared in the air.  
Then we in doubt to Phoebus' temple sent  
Euripilus, to weet the prophesy:  
From whence he brought these woeful news again:  
With blood (O Greeks) and slaughter of a maid  
Ye pleased the winds, when first ye came to Troy:  
With blood likewise ye must seek your return.  
A Greekish soul must offered be therefore,   

But when this sound had pierced the people's ears,  
With sodem fere astonished were their minds,  
The chilling cold did overrun their bones,  
To whom that fate was shaped, whom Phoebus would.  
Ulysses then amid the press brings in  
Calchas with noise, and willed him to discuss  
The God's intent. Then some 'gan dame to me  
The cruel wrek of him that framed the craft:  
Foreseeing secretly what would ensue.  
In silence then, yshrowding him from sight  
But days twice five he whisted, and refused  
To death by speech to further any wight.  
At last, as forced by false Ulyssez cry,  
Of purpose he broke fourth, assigning me  
To the altar: whereto they granted all:  
And that, that erst each one dread to himself,  
Returned all unto my wretched death.  
And now at hand drew near the woeful day:  
All things prepared wherewith to offer me,  
Salt, corn, fillets my temples for to bind.  
I scaped the death (I grant) & broke the bands,  
And lurked in a marrise all the night,  
Among the ooze, while they did set their sails:  
I fit so be that they in deed so did.  
Now rests no hope my native land to see,  
My children dear, nor long desired sire:  
On whom perchance they shall wreak my escape:  
Those harmless wights shall for my fault be slain.   

Then by the gods, to whom all truth is known:  
By faith unfiled, if any any where  
With mortal folk remains: I thee beseech  
O King thereby, rue on my travailgreat:  
Pity a wretch that guiltless suffereth wrong.  
Life to these tears, with pardon ekewe grant.  
And Priam first himself commands to lose  
His gives, his bands: and friendly to him said.  
Whoso thou art, learn to forget the Greeks.  
Hencefourth be ours, and answer me with truth,  
Whereto was wrought the mass of this huge horse?  
whose the devise? and whereto should it tend?  
What holy vow? or engine for the wars?   

Then he, instruct with wiles and Greekish craft,  
His loosed hands lift upward to the sterrs,  
Ye everlasting lamps I testify,  
whose power divine may not be violate:  
Thaltar, and sword (quoth he) that I have scaped:  
Ye sacred bands, I wore as yelden host:  
leeful be it for me to break mine oath  
To Greeks, leeful to hate their naciòn,  
leeful be it to sparkle in the air,  
Their secrets all, what so they keep in close,  
For free am I from Grece, and from their laws.  
So be it, Troy, and saved by me from scathe,  
Keep faith with me, and stand to thy behest,  
If I speak truth, and opening things of weight  
For grant of life requite thee large amends.   

The Greeks whole hope of undertaken war  
In Pallas help consisted evermore.  
But sith the time that wicked Diomedes.  
Ulysses eke that forget of all guile,  
adventured from the holly sacred fane  
For to bereave dame Pallas fatal form,  
And slew the watches of the chiefest tour,  
And then away the holy statue stolen,  
That were so bold with hands imbrued in blood,  
The virgin Goddess veites for to defile:  
Sith that, their hope 'gan fail, their hope to fall  
Their power appeir, their Goddess grace withdraw.  
Which with no doubtful signs she did declare.  
Scarce was the statue to our tents ybroughte,  
But she 'gan stare with sparkled eyes of flame:  
Along her limbs the salt sweat trickled down:  
Yea thrice herself (a hideous thing to tell)  
In glances bright she glittered from the ground,  
Holding in hand her large and quivering spear.  
Calchas by sea than bade us hast our flight:  
whose engines might not break the walls of Troy,  
Unless at Grece they would renew their lots,  
Restore the god that they by sea had brought  
In warped keles. To Arge sith they be come,  
They pease their gods, and war afresh prepare:  
And cross the seas unlooked for eftsoons  
They will return. This order Calchas set.   

This figure made they for thaggrieved god,  
In Pallas stead, to cleanse their heinous fault.  
Which mass he willed to be reared high  
Toward the skies, and ribbed all with oak:  
So that your gates, ne wall might it receive,  
Ne yet your people might defensed be  
By the good zeal of old devotion.  
For if your hands did Pallas gift defile,  
To Priam's realm great mischief should befall:  
(Which fate the Gods first on himself return)  
But had your own hands brought it in your town,  
Asle should pass, and carry offered war  
In Grece even to the walls of Pelops town,  
And we and ours that destiny endure.   

By such like wiles of Sinon the for sworn  
His tale with us did purchase credit: some  
Trapped by deceit, some forced by his tears,  
Whom neither Diomedes, nor great Achille,  
Nor ten years war, ne a thousand sail could daunt.   

Us caitiffs than a far more dreadful chance  
Befell, that troubled our unarmed breasts.  
Whiles Laocon, that chosen was by lot  
Neptunus' priest, did sacrifice a bull  
Before the holy Altar, suddenly  
From Tenedon behold in circles great  
By the calm seas come fleeting adders twain,  
Which plied towards the shore (I loath to tell)  
With rered breast lift up above the seas:  
whose bloody crests aloft the waves were seen:  
The hinder part swam hidden in the flood:  
Their grisly backs were linked manifold:  
With sound of broken waves they gate the strand,  
With gloing eyen, tainted with blood and fire:  
whose weltering tongues did lick their hissing mouths.  
We fled away, our face the blood forsook.  
But they with gate direct to Lacon ran.  
And first of all each serpent doth enwrap  
The bodies small of his two tender sons:  
whose wretched limbs they bit, and fed thereon.  
Then reached they him, who had his weapon caught  
To rescue them, twice winding him about,  
With folded knots, and circled tails, his waist.  
Their scaled backs did compass twice his neck,  
With rered heads aloft, and stretched throats.  
He with his hands strove to unloose the knots:  
Whose sacred fillettes all be sprinkled were  
With filth of gory blood, and venom rank.  
And to the stars such dreadful shouts he sent,  
Like to the sound the roaring bull fourth loowes,  
Which from the halter wounded doth astart,  
The swerving are when he shakes from his neck.  
The seryentes twine with hasted trail they glide  
To Pallas temple, and her towers of height:  
Under the feet of which the Goddess stern.  
Hidden behind her targertes boss they crept.  
New gripes of dread then pierce our trembling breasts.  
They said Lacons' deserts had dearly bought  
His heinous deed, that pierced had with steel  
The sacred bulk, and thrown the wicked lance:  
The people cried with fondry greeing shouts,  
To bring the horse to Pallas temple blive,  
In hope thereby the Goddess wrath t'appease  
We cleft the walls, and closures of the town.  
Whereto all help, and underset the feet  
With sliding rolls, and bound his neck with ropes.  
This fatal gin thus overclambe our walls,  
Stuffed with armed men: about the which there ran  
Children, and maids, that holy carols sang.  
And well were they whose hands might touch the cords.  
With threatening cheer thus slided through our town  
The subtle tree, to Pallas temple ward:  
O native land, Ilium, and of the Gods  
The mansion place. O warrlik walls of Troy.  
four times it stopped in th'entry of our gate:  
four times the harness clattred in the womb.  
But we go on, unsound of memory,  
And blinded eke by rage persever still.  
This fatal monster in the fane we place   

Cassandra then, inspired with Phoebus' spirit,  
Her prophets lips yet never of us leeved  
Disclosed eft, forespeking things to come.  
We wretches lo, that last day of our life,  
With bows of fest the town, and temples deck.   

With this the sky 'gan whirl about the sphere:  
The cloudy night 'gan thicken from the sea,  
With mantels spread that cloaked earth and skies,  
And eke the treason of the Greekish guile.  
The watchmen lay dispersed, to take their rest,  
whose wearied limbs sound sleep had then oppressed:  
When well in order comes the Grecian fleet,  
From Tenedon toward the costs well known,  
By friendly silence of the quiet moon.  
When the kings ship put fourth his mark of fire,  
Sinon, preserved by froward destiny,  
Let fouth the Greeks enclosed in the womb,  
The closures eke of pine by stealth unpind.  
Whereby the Greeks restored were to air.  
With joy down hasting from the hollow tree.  
With cords let down did slide unto the ground  
The great captains, Sthenel, and Thesander,  
The fierce Ulysses, Athamas and Thoas,  
Machaon first, and then King Menolac,  
Opeas eke that did the engine forge.  
By cords let fall fast 'gan they slide adown:  
And straight invade the town yburied then  
With wine, and sleep. And first the watch is slain,  
Then gates unfold to let their fellows in:  
They join themselves with the conjured bands.  
It was the time, when granted from the gods  
The first sleep crepes most sweet in weary folk.  
Lo in my dream before mine eyes, me thought,  
With rueful cheer I saw where Hector stood:  
Out of whose eyes there gushed streams of tears,  
Drawn at a cart as he of late had be:  
Distained with bloody dust, whose feet were bowing  
With the straight cords wherewith they haled him  
By me. what one: that Hector how unlike,  
Which erst returned clad with Achilles spoils:  
Or when he threw into the Greekish ships  
The Crotan flame? So was his beard defiled,  
His crisped locks all clustered with his blood:  
With all such wounds, as many he received  
About the walls of that his native town.  
Whom frankly thus, me thought, I spoke unto,  
With bitter tears and doleful deadly voice,  
O Trojan light, O only hope of them:  
What lets so long thee stayed? or from what costs.  
Our most desired Hector, dost thou come?  
Whom after slaughter of thy many friends,  
And travail of the people, and thy town,  
Alweried (lord) how gladly we behold.  
What sorry chance hath stained thy lively face?  
Or why see I these wounds (alas) so wide?  
He answeard nought, nor in my vain demands  
Abode: but from the bottom of his breast  
Sighing he said: flee, flee, O Goddess son,  
And save thee from the fury of this flame.  
Our enemies now are masters of the walls:  
And Troy town now falleth from the top.  
Sufficeth that is done for Priam's reign.  
If force might serve to succour Troy town,  
This right hand well mought have been her defence.  
But Troy now commendeth to thy charge  
Her holy relics, and her privy Gods.  
Them join to thee, as fellows of thy fate.  
Large walls rear thou for them. For so thou shalt,  
After time spent in thoverwandered flood.  
This said, he brought fourth Uesta in his hands,  
Her fillettes eke, and everlasting flame.   

In this mean while with diverse plaint the town  
Throughout was spread: and louder more and more  
The din resouned: with rattling of arms  
(Although nime old father Anchisez house  
Removed stood, with shadow hid of trees)  
I waked: therewith to the honse top I clomb,  
And hearkening stood I: like as when the flame  
Lights in the corn, by drift of boisteous wind:  
Or the swift stream, that driveth from the hill,  
Roots up the fields, and presseth the ripe corn,  
And ploughed ground, and overwhelmeth the grove,  
The silly herdman all astonied stands,  
From the high rock while he doth here the sound.   

Then the Greeks faith, than their deceit appeared  
Of Deiphobus the palace large and great  
Fell to the ground, all overspread with flash.  
His next neighbour Ucalegon afire:  
The Sygean seas did glister all with flame.  
Upsprang the cry of men, and trumpets blast.  
Then as distraught I did my armure on:  
Ne could I tell yet whereto arms availed.  
But with our feres to throng out from the press  
Toward the tour our hearts brent with desire:  
Wrath pricked us fourth: and unto us it seemed  
A seemly thing to die armed in the field.   

Wherewith Panthus, scaped from the Greekish darts,  
Diteus son, Phoebus priest, brought in hand  
The sacred relics, and the vanquished Gods:  
And in his hand his little nephew led.  
And thus as phrentik to our gates he ran:  
Panthus (quoth I) in what estate stand we?  
Or for refuge what fortress shall we take?  
Scarce spoke I this: when wailing thus he said.  
The later day and fate of Troy is come,  
The which no plaint or prayer may avail.  
Troyans we were, and Troy was sometime,  
And of great fame the Teucrian glory erst:  
Fierce Jove to Grece hath now transposed all.  
The Greeks are Lords over this fired town.  
Yonder huge horse, that stands amid our walls,  
Sheds armed men. And Sinon victor now,  
With scorn of us, doth set all things on flame.  
And rushed in at our unfolded gates  
Are thousands more than ever came from Grece.  
And some with weapons watch the narrow streets,  
With bright swords drawn to slaughter ready bend.  
And scarce the watches of the gate began  
Them to defend, and with blind fight resist.   

Through Panthus' words, & lightning of the Gods,  
Amid the flame and arms ran I in press:  
As fury guided me, and where as I had heard  
The cry greatest, that made the air resound.  
Into our band then fell old Iphytus,  
And Rypheus, that met us by moonlight.  
Dymas and Hypanis joining to our side,  
With young Chorebus Mygdonius son:  
Which in those days at Troy did arrive  
Burning with rage of dame Cassandra's love,  
In Priam's aid and rescue of his town:  
Unhappy he that would no credit give  
Unto his spouses words of prophecy.   

Whom when I saw assembled in such wise,  
So desperately the battle to desire:  
Then furthermore thus said I unto them.  
O ye youngmen of courage stout in vain:  
For nought ye strive to save the burning town.  
What cruel fortune hath betided, ye see.  
The Gods out of the temples all are fled,  
Through whose might long this empire was mainteind:  
Their altars eke are left both waist and void.  
But if your will be bend with me to prove  
That uttermost, that now may us befall:  
Then let us die, and run amid our foes.  
To vanquished folk despair is only hope.  
With this the youngmen's courage did increase:  
And through the dark, like to the raveuing wolves,  
Whom raging fury of their empty maws  
Drives from their den, leaving with hungry throats  
Their whelps behind, among our foes we ran,  
Upon their swords unto apparent death.  
Holding always the chief street of the town,  
Covered with the close shadows of the night.   

Who can express the slaughter of that night?  
Or tell the number of the corpses slain?  
Or can in tears bewail them worthily?  
The ancient famous city falleth down,  
That many years did hold such signory.  
With senseless bodies every street is spread,  
Each palace, and sacred porch of the Gods.  
Nor yet alone the Trojan blood was shed.  
Manhood oft times into the vanquished breast  
Returns, whereby some victors Greeks are slain.  
Cruel complaints, and terror every where,  
And plenty of grisly pictures of death.   

And first with us Androgeus there met,  
Followed with a swarming rout of Greeks:  
Deming us, unware, of that fellowship:  
With friendly words whom thus he called unto.  
Hast ye my friends: what sloth hath tarried you?  
Your fears now sack, and spoil the burning Trop,  
From the tall ships where ye but newly come.  
When he had said, and heard no answer made  
To him again whereto he might give trust:  
Finding himself chanced amid his foes.  
Amazed he withdrew his foot back with his word:  
Like him that, wandering in the bushes thick.  
Tredes on the adder with his reckless foot.  
Rered for wrath swelling her speckled neck  
Dismayed, gives back as suddenly for fere.  
Androgeus so feared of that sight stepped back.  
And we 'gan rush amid the thickest rout:  
When here and there we did them overthrow,  
Stricken with dread, unskilful of the place.  
Our first labour thus lucked well with us.   

Chorebus then encouraged by his chance,  
Rejoicing said: Hold fourth the way of health  
(My fears) that hap, and manhood hath us taught.  
Change we our shields: the Greeks arms do we on.  
Craft, or manhood, with foes what recks it which.  
The stain to us their armure they shall yield.  
And with that word Androgeus crested helm,  
And the rich arms of his shield did he on:  
A Greekish sword he girded by his side.  
Like gladly Dimas and Ripheus did.  
The whole youth 'gan them clad in the new spoises.  
Mingled with Greeks for no good luck to us  
We went, and gave many onsets that night.  
And many a Greek we sent to Pluto's court.  
Other there fled and hasted to their ships.  
And to their costs of safeguard ran again.  
And some there were, for shameful cowardrie.  
clomb up again unto the hugy horse,  
And did them hide in his welknowen womb.   

Ay me, bootless it is for any white  
To hope on aught, against will of the Gods.  
Lo where Cassandra, Priam's daughter dear,  
From Pallas church was drawn with sparkled tress.  
Lifting in vain her flaming eyes to heaven:  
Her eyen: for fast her tender wrists were bound.  
Which sight Chorebus raging could not bear,  
Reckless of death: but thrust amid the throng:  
And after we through thickest of the swords.   

Here were we first ybatred with the darts  
Of our own fears, from the high temples top.  
Whereby of us great slaughter did ensue,  
Mistaken by our Greekish arms and crests.  
Then flocked the Greeks, moved with wrath, and ire  
Of the Virgin from them so rescued:  
The fell Ajax, and either A trides,  
And the great band cleped the Tolopes.  
As wrestling winds, out of dispersed whirl,  
Befight themselves, the west with southern blast,  
And gladsome East proud of Aurora's horse,  
The woods do whiz: and foamy Nereus,  
Raging in fury with threeforked mace  
From bottoms depth doth weltre up the seas:  
So came the Greeks. And such, as by deceit  
We sparkled erst in shadow of the night,  
And drove about our town, appeared first.  
Our feigned shields and weapons than they found,  
And by sound our discording voice they knew.  
We went to wreck with number overlaid.  
And by the hand of Peneleus first  
Chorebus fell before the altar dead  
Of armed Pallas, and Rypheus eke,  
The justest man among the Troyans' all,  
And he that best observed equity.  
But otherwise it pleased now the Gods.  
There Hipanis, and Dimas both were slain,  
Through pierced with the weapons of their fee  
Nor thee, Panthus, when thou wast overthrown,  
Pity, nor zeal of good devotion,  
Nor habit yet of Phoebus' hid from scathe.  
Ye Trojan ashes, and last flames of mine,  
I call in witness, that at your last fall  
I fled no stroke of any Greekish sword:  
And if the fates would I had fallen in fight,  
That with my hand I did deserve it well.  
With this from thence I was recuiled back,  
With I phytus', and Pelias alone,  
I phytus' week and feeble all for age,  
Pelias lamed by Ulissez hand.  
To Priam's palace cry did call us then.  
Here was the fight right hideous to behold.  
As though there had no battle been but there,  
Or slaughter made else where throughout the town.  
A fight of rage and fury there we saw.  
The Greeks toward the palace rushed fast,  
And covered with engines the gates beset.  
And reared up ladders against the walls.  
Under the windows scaling by their steps,  
Fenced with shields in their left hands, whereon  
They did receive the darts while their righthands  
Gripped for hold them battle of the wall.  
The Trojans on the other part rend down  
The turrets high, and eke the palace roof:  
With such weapons they shope them to defend,  
Seing all lost, now at the point of death.  
The gilt spars, and the beams than threw they down,  
Of old fathers the proud and royal works.  
And with drawn swords some did beset the gates,  
Which they did watch and keep in routs full thick.  
Our spirits restored to rescue the king's house.  
To help them, and to give the vanquished strength.   

A postern with a blind wicket there was,  
A common trade to pass through Priam's house:  
On the backside whereof waste houses stood.  
Which way eftsithes, while that our kingdom dured,  
Thinfortunate Andromache alone  
Resorted to the parents of her make,  
With young Astyanax his grandsire to see.  
Here passed I up to the highest tour,  
From whence the wretched Trojans did throw down  
Darts spent in waist. Unto a turret than  
We stepped: the which stood in a place aloft,  
The top whereof did reach wellnere the stars,  
Where we were wont all Troy to behold,  
The Greekish name, and their tents also.  
With instruments of iron 'gan we pick,  
To seek where we might find the joining shrunk  
From that high scat: which we razed, and threw down.  
Which falling gave forthwith a rushing sound,  
And large in breadth on Greekish routs it light.  
But soon an other sort stepped in their stead.  
No stone unthrown, nor yet no dart uncast   

Before the gate stood Pyrthus, in the porch,  
Rejoicing in his darts, with glittering arms,  
Like to the adder with venomous herbs fed,  
Whom cold winter all boine hid under ground,  
And shining bright when she her slough had slong  
Her slipper back doth roll with forked tongue,  
And raised breast, lift up against the sun.  
With that together came great Periphas,  
Automedon eke that guided had sometime  
A chill horse, now Pyrrhus armour bare.  
And eke with him the warlike Scyrian youth  
assailed the house, and threw flame to the top.  
And he an axe before the formest reached:  
Wherewith he 'gan the strong gates hue, and break.  
From whence he bet the staples out of brass:  
He broke the bars, and through the timber pierced  
So large a hole, whereby they might discern  
The house, the court, and secret chambers eke  
Of Priamus, and ancient kings of Troy,  
And armed foes in th'entry of the gate.   

But the palace within confounded was  
With wailing, and with rueful shrieks and cries.  
The hollow halls did howl of women's plaint.  
The clamour struck up to the golden stars.  
The frayed mothers, wandering through the wide house.  
Embracing pillars, did them hold and kiss.  
Pyrrhus assaileth with his father's might,  
Whom the closures ne keepers might hold out.  
With often pushed ram the gate did shake.  
The posts beat down removed from their hooks.  
By force they made the way, and th'entry broke.  
And now the Greeks let in, the formest slay:  
And the large palace with soldiers 'gan to fill.  
Not so fiercely doth overflow the fields  
The foaming flood, that breaks out of his banks:  
whose rage of waters bears away what heaps  
Stand in his way, the coats, and eke the herds:  
As in th'entry of slaughter furious  
I saw Pyrrhus, and either Atrideses.   

There Hecuba I saw with a hundred more  
Of her son's wives, and Priam at the altar,  
Sprinkling with blood his flame of sacrifice.  
Forty bed chambers of his children's wives,  
With loss of so great hope of his offspring,  
The pillars eke proudly beset with gold,  
And with the spoils of other nations.  
Fell to the ground: and whatso that with flame  
Untouched was, the Greeks did all possess.   

Percase you would ask what was Priam's fate.  
When of his taken town he saw the chance,  
And the gates of his palace beaten down,  
His foes amid his secret chambers eke:  
Thold man in vain did on his shoulders then,  
Trembling for age, his cuirass long disused:  
His bootless sword he girded him about:  
And ran amid his foes, ready to die.  
Amid the court under the heaven all bare  
A great altar there stood, by which there grew  
An old laurel tree bowing thereunto,  
Which with his shadow did embrace the Gods.  
Here Hecuba, with her young daughters all,  
About the altar swarmed were in vain:  
Like Doves, that flock together in the storm:  
The statues of the Gods embracing fast.  
But when she saw Priam had taken there  
His armure, like as though he had been young:  
What furious thought, my wretched spouse, (quoth she)  
Did move thee now such weapons for to wield?  
Why hastest thou? This time doth not require  
Such succour, ne yet such defenders now.  
No, though Hector my son were here again.  
Come hither: this altar shall save us all:  
Or we shall die together. Thus she said.  
Wherewith she drew him back to her, and set  
The aged man down in the holy seat.   

But lo Polites, one of Priam's sons,  
Escaped from the slaughter of Pyrthus,  
Comes fleeing through the weapons of his foes,  
Searching all wounded the long galleries.  
And the void courts: whom Pyrrhus all in rage  
Followed fast, to reach a mortal wound:  
And now in hand wellnere strikes with his spear.  
Who fleeing fourth, till he came now in sight  
Of his parents, before their face fell down,  
Yielding the ghost, with flowing streams of blood.  
Priamus then, although he were half dead,  
Might not keep in his wrath, nor yet his words:  
But crieth out: for this thy wicked work,  
And boldness eke such thing to enterprise,  
If in the heavens any justice be,  
That of such things takes any care or keep,  
According thanks the Gods may yield to thee,  
And send thee eke thy just deserved hire,  
That made me see the slaughter of my child,  
And with his blood defile the father's face.  
But he, by whom thou fainst thyself begot,  
A chill was to Priam not so stern.  
For lo he, tendering my most humble suit,  
The right, and faith, my Hector's bloodless corpse  
Rendered, for to be laid in sepulture,  
And sent me to my kingdom home again.  
Thus said the aged man: and therewithal  
Forceless he cast his weak unwieldy dart.  
Which repulsed from the brass, where it gave dint,  
Without sound hung vainly in the shields boss.  
Quod Pyrrhus, than thou shalt this thing report.  
On message to Pelide my father go:  
Show unto him my cruel deeds, and how  
Neoptolem is swerved out of kind.  
Now shalt thou die, quoth he. And with that word  
At the altar him trembling 'gan he draw,  
Wallowing through the bloodshed of his son:  
And his left-hand all clasped in his hear,  
With his right arm drew fourth his shining sword.  
Which in his side he thrust up to the hilts.  
Of Priamus this was the satal fine,  
The woeful end that was allotted him.  
When he had seen his palace all on fiame,  
With ruin of his Trojan turrets eke,  
That royal prince of Asia, which of late  
Reigned over so many peoples and realms,  
Like a great stock now n on the shore:  
His head and shoulders parred been in twain:  
A body now without renome, and same.   

Then first in me entered the grisly fear.  
Dismayed I was Wherewith came to my mind  
The image eke of my dear father, when  
I thus beheld the king of equal age  
Yield up the spirit with wounds so cruelly.  
Then thought I of Creusa left alone:  
And of my house in danger of the spoil:  
And the estate of young Julus eke.  
I looked back to seek what number then  
I might discern about me of my fears.  
But wearied they had left me all alone.  
Some to the ground were lopen from above:  
Some in the flame their irked bodies cast.   

There was no more but I left of them all:  
When that I saw in Vesta's temple sit  
Dame Helen, lurking in a secret place:  
(Such light the flame did give as I went by,  
While here and there I cast mine eyen about)  
For she in dread, lest that the Troyans' should  
Revenge on her the ruin of their walls,  
And of the Greeks the cruel wrekes also,  
The fury eke of her forsaken make,  
The common bane of Troy, and eke of Grece,  
Hareful she sat beside the altars hid.  
Then boiled my breast with flame, and burning wrath,  
To revenge my town unto such ruin brought.  
With worthy pains on her to work my will.  
Thought I: Shall she pass to the land of Sparta  
All safe, and see Mycenae her native land,  
And like a Duene return with victory  
Home to her spouse, her parents, and children,  
Followed with a train of Trojan maids,  
And served with a band of Phrygian slaves,  
And Prtam eke with iron murdered thus,  
And Troy town consumed all with flame,  
whose shore hath been so oft forbathed in blood?  
No no: for though on women the revenge  
Unsemely is, such conquest hath no fame:  
To give an end unto such mischief yet  
My just revenge shall merit worthy praise,  
And quiet eke my mind, for to be wroke  
On her which was the causer of this flame,  
And satisfy the cinder of my fears.   

With furious mind while I did argue thus,  
My blessed mother than appeared to me,  
Whom erst so bright mine eyes had never seen,  
And with pure light she glistered in the night,  
Disclosing her in form a Goddess like,  
As she doth seem to such as dwell in heaven.  
My right hand then she took, and held it fast,  
And with her rosy lips thus did she say.  
Son, what fury hath thus provoked thee  
To such untamed wrath? what ragest thou?  
Or where is now become the care of us?  
Wilt thou not first go see where thou hast left  
Anchises thy father fordone with age?  
Doth Creusa live, and Ascanius thy son?  
Whom now the Greekish bands have round beset:  
And, were they not defensed by my cure,  
Flame had them reached and enemies sword ere this.  
Not Helen's beauty hateful unto thee,  
Nor blamed Parts yet, but the God's wrath  
Reft you this wealth, and overthrew your town.  
Behold (and I shall now the cloud remove,  
Which overcast thy mortal sight doth dim,  
whose moisture doth obscure allthinges about:  
And fear not thou to do thy mother's will,  
Nor her advise refuse thou to perform.)  
Here where thou seest the turrets over thrown,  
Stone bet from stone, smoke rising mixed with dust,  
Neptunus there shakes with his mace the walls,  
And eke the lose foundations of the same,  
And over whelms the whole town from his seat:  
And cruel Juno with the formest here  
Doth keep the gate that Scea cleped is,  
near wood for wrath, whereas she stands, and calls  
In harness bright the Greeks out of their ships.  
And in the turrets high behold where stands  
Bright shining Pallas, all in warlike weed,  
And with her shield where Gorgon's head appears:  
And Jupiter my father distributes  
Auayling strength, and courage to the Greeks.  
Yet overmore, against the Trojan power,  
He doth provoke the rest of all the Gods,  
Flee then my son, and give this travail end.  
Ne shall I thee forsake, in safeguard till  
I have thee brought unto thy father's gate.  
This did she say: and therewith 'gan she hide  
Herself in shadow of the close night.   

Then dreadful figures 'gan appear to me,  
And great Gods eke aggrieved with our town.  
I saw Troy fall down in burning gledes,  
Neptunus' town clean razed from the soil:  
Like as the elm forgrown in mountains high,  
Round hewn with are, that husbandmen  
With thick assaults strive to tear up, doth threat,  
And hacked beneath trembling doth bend his top,  
Till yold with strokes, giving the latter crack,  
Rend from the height, with ruin it doth fall.   

With this I went, and gurded by a God  
I passed through my foes, and eke the flame:  
Their weapons, and the fire eke gave me place.  
And when that I was come before the gates,  
And ancient building of my father's house:  
My father, whom I hoped to convey  
To the next hills, and did him thearto treat,  
Refused either to prolong his life,  
Or bide exile after the fall of Troy.  
All ye (quoth he) in whom young blood is fresh,  
Whose strength remains entire and in full power,  
Take ye your flight.  
For if the Gods my life would have prorogued,  
They had reserved for me this woning place.  
It was enough (alas) and eke to much,  
To see the town of Troy thus razed once,  
To have lived after the city taken.  
When ye have said, this corpse laid out forsake.  
My hand shall seek my death, and pity shall  
Mine enemies move, or else hope of my spoil.  
As for my grave, I weigh the loss but light:  
For I my years disdainful to the Gods  
Have lingered fourth, unable to all needs,  
Sins that the sire of Gods and king of men  
Strake me with thunder, and with levening blast.  
Such things he 'gan rehearse, thus firmly bend.  
But we besprent with tears, my tender son,  
And eke my sweet Creusa, with the rest  
Of the household, my father 'gan beseech,  
Not so with him to perish all at ones,  
Nor so to yield unto the cruel fate.  
Which he refused, and stack to his intent.   

Driven I was to harness then again,  
Miserably my death for to desire.  
For what advise or other hope was left?  
Father, thoughtst thou that I may once remove  
(Quoth I) a foot, and leave thee here behind?  
May such a wrong pass from a father's mouth?  
If Gods will be, that nothing here be saved  
Of this great town, and thy mind bend to join  
Both thee and thine to ruin of this town:  
The way is plame this death for to attain.  
Pyrrhus shall come besprent with Priam's blood,  
That gored the son before the father's face,  
And slew the father at the altar eke.  
O sacred mother was it then for this,  
That you me led through flame and weapons sharp,  
That I might in my secret chamber see  
Mine enemies: and Ascanius my son,  
My father, with Creusa my sweet wife,  
Murdered alas the one in thothers blood?  
Why servants then, bring me my arms again.  
The latter day us vanquished doth call.  
Render me now to the Greeks sight again:  
And let me see the fight begun of new.  
We shall not all unwroken die this day.   

About me than I girt my sword again,  
And eke my shield on my left shoulder cast,  
And bent me so to rush out of the house.  
Lo in my gate my spouse clasping my feet,  
Foregainst his father young Julus set.  
If thou wilt go (quoth she) and spill thyself,  
Take us with thee in all that may betide.  
But as expert if thou in arms have set  
Yet any hope, than first this house defend,  
Whearas thy son, and eke thy father dear,  
And I sometime thine own dear wife, are left.  
Her shrill loud voice with plaint thus filled the house,  
When that a sudden monstrous matuel sell.  
For in their sight, and woeful parents' arms,  
Behold a light out of the button sprang  
That in tip of Julus cap did stand:  
With gentle touch whose harmless flame did shine,  
Upon his heat, about his temples spread.  
And we afraid trembling for dreadful fere  
bet out the fire from his blazing tress,  
And with water 'gan quench the sacred flame.  
Anchises glad his eyen lift to the stars:  
With hands his voice to heaven thus he bent.  
If by prayer, (alnughty Jupiter),  
Inclined thou mayst be, behold us then  
Of ruth: at least if we so much deserve.  
Grant eke thine aid sather, confirm this thing.  
Scarce had the old man said, when that the heavens  
With fodein noise thundered on the left hand.  
Out of the sky by the dark night there fell  
A blazing star, dragging a brand or flame:  
Which with much light gliding on the house top  
In the forest of Ida hide her beams.  
The which full bright cendleing a furrow shone,  
By a long tract appointing us the way.  
And round about of brimstone rose a fume.  
My father vanquished, then beheld the skies,  
Spoke to the Gods, and tholly star adored  
Now, now (quoth he) no longer I abide.  
Fellow I shall where ye me guide at hand.  
O native Gods, your family defend  
Preserve your liue. this warning comes of you,  
And Troy stands in your protection now  
Now give I place, and wherso that thou go  
Refuse I not my son, to be thy feer.   

This did he say: and by that time more clear  
The cracking flame was heard throughout the walls,  
And more and more the burning heat drew near.  
Why then have done, my father dear, (quoth I)  
Bestride my neck fourth with, and sit thereon,  
And I shall with my shoulders thee susteme:  
He shall this labour do me any dear.  
What so betide, come peril, come welfare,  
Like to us both and common there shall be.  
Young Julus shall be are me company:  
And my wife shall follow far of my steps,  
Now ye my servants, mark well what I say.  
Without the rown ye shall find, on an hill  
An old temple there, stands whereas sometime  
Worship was done to Ceres the Goddess.  
Biside which grows an aged cypress tree,  
Preserved long by our forefather's zeal.  
Behind which place let us together mete.  
And thou father receive into thy hands  
The relics all, and the Gods of the land:  
The which it were not lawful I should touch,  
That come but late from slaughter and bloodshed,  
Till I be washed in the running flood.  
When I had said these words, my shoulders broad,  
And laid neck with garments 'gan I spread,  
And thereon cast a yellow lion's skin,  
And thereupon my burden I receive.  
Young Julus, clasped in my right hand,  
Followeth me fast with unegal pace:  
And at my back my wife. Thus did we pass,  
By places shadowed most with the night.  
And me, whom late the dart which enemies threw,  
Nor press of Argive routs could make amazed,  
Each whispering wind hath power now to fray,  
And every sound to move my doubtful mind:  
So much I dread my burden, and my fear,   

And now we 'gan draw near unto the gate,  
Right well escaped the danger, as me thought:  
When that at hand a sound of feet we heard.  
My father then, gazing throughout the dark,  
Cried on me: flee, son: they are at hand.  
With that bright shields, and sheen armours I saw,  
But then I know not what unfriendly God  
My troubled wit from me biraft for fere.  
For while I can by the most secret streets,  
eschewing still the common haunted tract,  
From me catif alas bereaved was  
Creusa then my spouse, I wot not how:  
Whether by fate, or missing of the way,  
Or that she was by weariness retained.  
But never sith these eyes might her behold:  
Nor did I yet perceive that she was lost:  
Ne never backward turned I my mind,  
Till we came to the hill, whetas there stood  
The old temple dedicated to Ceres.   

And when that we were there assembled all,  
She was only away deceiving us  
Her spouse, her son, and all held compainie.  
What God, or man did I not then accuse,  
near wood for ●re●or what more cruel chance  
Did hap to me, in all Troy's overthrow?  
A scanius to my fears I then betook,  
With Anchises and eke the Trojan Gods,  
And left them hid within a valley deep.  
And to the town I 'gan me high again,  
Clad in bright arms, and bend for to renew  
adventures past, to search throughout the town,  
And yield my head to perils once again,  
And first the walls and dark entry I sought  
Of the same gate, whereat I issued out.  
Holding backward the steps where we had come  
In the dark night, looking all round about.  
In every place the ugsome sights I saw,  
The silence self of night aghast my spirit,  
From hence again I passed unto our house,  
If she by chance had been returned home.  
The Greeks were there, and had it all beset  
The wasting fire blown up by drift of wind,  
Above the roses the blazing flame sprang up:  
The sound whereof with fury pierced the skies  
To Priam's palace and the castle than  
I made: and there at Junous sanctuair  
In the void porches Phoenix, Ultsses eke,  
Stern guardens stood watching of the spoil.  
The richesse here were set rest from the brent  
Temples of Troy: the table of the Gods,  
The vessels eke that were of massy gold,  
And vestures spoiled, were gathered all in heap:  
The children orderly, and mother's pale for fright  
Long ranged on a row stood round about.  
So bold was I to show my voice that night,  
With clepes and cries to fill the streets throughout,  
With Creusa name in sorrow, with vain tears,  
And often scythes the same for to repeat.  
The town restless with fury as I sought,  
Thunlucky figure of creusa's ghost,  
Of stature more than wont, stood fore eyen.  
Abashed then I wox: therewith my hear  
'Gan start right up: my voice stack in my throat:  
When with such words she 'gan my heart remove,  
What helps to yield unto such furious rage,  
Sweet spouse? quod she. Without will of the gods  
This chanced not: ne leeful was for thee,  
To lead away Creusa hence with thee.  
The king of the high heaven suffereth it not.  
A long exile thou art assigned to bear,  
Long to furrow large space of stormy seas.  
So shalt thou reach at last Hesperian land,  
Where Lydian Tiber with his gentle stream  
Mildly doth flow along the fruitful fields.  
There mirthful wealth, there kingdom is for thee,  
There a kings child prepared to be thy make.  
For thy beloved Creusa stint thy tears.  
For now shall I not see the proud abodes  
Of Myrinidons, nor yet of Dolopes;  
Ne I a Trojan lady, and the wife  
Unto the son of Venus the Goddess,  
Shall go a slave to serve the Greekish dames.  
Me here the Gods great mother holds.  
And now farewell: and keep in father's breast  
The tender love of thy young son and mine.   

This having said she left me all in tears,  
And minding much to speak: but she was gone;  
And suttly fled into the weightless air.  
Thrice reached, I with mine arms taccoll her neck:  
Thrice did my hands vain hold th'image escape:  
Like nimble winds, and like the flying dream.  
So night spent out, return I to my fears:  
And there wondering I find together swarmed  
I new number of mates, mothers, and men,  
A rout exiled, a wretched multitude,  
From each where flockke together, priest to paste,  
With heart and goods, to whatsoever land  
By sliding seas me listed them to lead.  
And now rose Lucifer above the ridge  
Of †iusty† Ide, and brought the dawning light.  
The Greeks held thentries of the gates beset:  
Of help there was no hope. Then gave I place,  
Took up my sire, and hasted to the hell.    

The fourth book of Virgiles Aenaeis.  

BUt now the wounded Queen, with heavy care,  
Throughout the veins she nourisheth the play,  
Surprised with blind flame, and to her mind  
Ean eke resort the prowess of the man,  
And honour of his race: while in her breast  
Imprinted stack his words, and pictures form.  
Ne to her limbs care granteth quiet rest.  
The next morrow, with Phoebus' laump, the earth  
Alightned clear: and eke the dawning day  
The shadows dark 'gan from the pole remove:  
When all unsound her sister of like mind  
Thus spoke she to: O sister Ann, what dreams  
Be these, that me tormented thus afray?  
What new guest, is this that to our realm is come?  
What one of cheer, how stout of heart in arms?  
Truly I think (ne vain is my belief)  
Of Goddish race some offspring should he be:  
Cowardry notes hearts swerved out of kind.  
He driven (Lord) with how hard destiny:  
What battles eke achieved did he recount?  
But that my mind is fixed unmovably,  
Never with wight in wedlock ay to join:  
Sith my first love me left by death dissevered,  
If genial brands, and bed me loathed not,  
To this one gilt perchance yet might I yield.  
Anne, for I grant, sith wretched Sichees death  
My spouse and house with brother's slaughter stained,  
This only man hath made my senses bend,  
And pricked forth the mind, that 'gan to slide,  
Now feelingly I taste the steps of mine old flame,  
But first I wish, the earth me swallow down:  
Or with thunder the mighty Lord me send  
To the pale ghosts of hell, and darkness deep:  
Ere I thee stain, shamefastness, or thy laws  
He that with me first coppled, took away  
My love with him enjoy it in his grave.  
Thus did she say, and with surprised tears  
Bained her breast. whereto Anne thus replied:  
Olister, dearer beloved than the light:  
They youth alone in plaint still wilt thou spill?  
Ne children sweet, ne Venus' gifts wilt know?  
Cinders (thinkest thou) mind this? or graved ghosts?  
Time of thy dole thy spouse new dead, I grant,  
None might thee move: no not the Libyan king  
Nor yet of Tire Jarbas set so light:  
And other princes more: whom the rich soil  
Of africa breeds, in honours triumphant,  
Wilt thou also gainstand thy liked love  
Comes not to mind upon whose land thou dwellest,  
On this side, lo the Getule town behold,  
A people bold unvanquished in war,  
Eke the undaunted Numides compass thee  
Also the Sirtes, unfriendly harbroughe:  
On tother hand, a desert realm for thrust  
The Barceans, whose fury stretcheth wide.  
What shall I touch the wars that move from Tire?  
Or yet thy brother's threats?  
By god's puruciaunce it blewe, and Juno's help,  
The Troiaynes ships (I think) to run this course  
Sister, what town shalt thou see this become?  
Through such ally how shall our kingdom rise?  
And by the aid of Trojan arms how great?  
How many ways shall Cartages glory grow?  
Thou only now beseech the Gods of grace  
By sacrifice: which ended, to thy house  
receive him: and forge causes of abode:  
Whises winter frets the seas, and watery Orion,  
The ships shaken, unfriendly the season.  
Such words inflamed the kindled mind with love,  
Loosed all shame, and gave the doubtful hope,  
And to the temples first they hast and seek,  
By sacrifice for grace, with Hogreles of two years  
Chosen (as aught) to Ceres, that gave laws,  
To Phoebus, Bacchus, and to Juno chief,  
Which hath in care the bands of marriage.  
Fair Dido held in her right hand the cup  
Which twixt the horns of a white Cow she shed  
In presence of the Gods passing before  
The altars fat, which she renewed oft  
With gifts that day, and beasts debowled:  
Gazing for counsel on the entrales warm.  
Ay me, unskilful minds of prophesy  
Temples, or vows, what boot they in her rage?  
A gentle flame the marrow doth devour:  
Whiles in the breast the silent wound keeps life,  
Unhappy Dido burns, and in her rage  
Throughout the town she wandereth up and down:  
Like the stricken Hind with shaft, in Crete  
Throughout the woods which chase with his darts  
Aloof, the Shepherd smiteth at unwares  
And leaves unwist in her the thirling head:  
That through the groves, and lands glides in her fight:  
Amid whose side the mortal arrow sticks,  
Aeneas now about the walls she leads,  
The town prepared, and Cartsge wealth to show,  
Offering to speank, amid her voice, she whistes,  
And when the day 'gan fail, new feasts she makes  
The Trotes travails to hear a new she lists  
Enraged all: and stareth in his face  
That tells the tale. And when they were all gone:  
And the dim move doth eft withhold the light:  
And sliding stars provoked unto sleep:  
Alone she mourns within her palace void;  
And sets her down on her forsaken bed,  
And absent him she hears, when he is gone,  
And seeth eke: oft in her lap she holds  
Ascanius, trapped by his father's form;  
So to beguile the love cannot be told.   

The turrets now arise not, erst begun,  
Neither the youth wields arms, nor they avauncs  
The ports: nor other meet defence for war.  
Broken there hang the works and mighty frames  
Of walls high raised, threatening the sky.  
Whom assoon as Jove's dear wife saw infect  
With such a plague, ne fame resist the rage:  
Saturn's daughter thus birds Venus then.  
Great praise (quoth she) and worthy spoils you win.  
You and your son, great Gods of memory,  
By both your wiles one woman to devour.  
Yet am not I deceived, that foreknew  
Ye dread our walls, and bildinges 'gan suspect  
Of high Cartage. But what shallbe the end?  
Or whereunto now serveth such debate?  
But rather peace, and bridal bands knit we,  
Sith thou hast speed of that, thy heart desired,  
Dido doth burn with love, rage fretes her bones  
This people now as common to us both,  
With equal favour let us govern then,  
leeful be it to serve a Trojan spouse:  
And Tirianes yield to thy right hand in dower.  
To whom Venus replied thus: that knew,  
Her words proceeded from a feigned mind,  
To Libyan coasts to turn th'empire from Rome,  
What wight so fond, such offer to refuse?  
Or yet with thee had liefer strive in war?  
So be it fortune thy tale bring to effect,  
But destinies I doubt: lest Jove nill grant,  
That folk of Tire, and such as came from Troy,  
Should hold one town: or grant these nations  
Mingled to be, or joined ay in league.  
Thou at his wife: leeful it is for the  
For to attempt his fancy by request:  
Pass on before and follow the I shall?  
Queen Juno then thus took her tale again:  
This travail be it mine: but by what mean.  
(Mark in few words I shall thee learn eftsoons)  
This work in hand may now be compassed.  
Aneas now, and wretched Dido eke  
To the forest, a hunting mind to wend,  
To morn as soon as Titan shall ascend,  
And with his beams hath overspread the world,  
And whiles the wings of youth do swarm about.  
And whiles they range to over set the groves  
A cloudy shower mingled with hail I shall  
Pour down, and then with thunder shake the skies,  
Thassemble scattered the mist shall cloak.  
Dido a cave, the Trojan prince the same  
Shall enter to: and I will be at hand.  
And if thy will stick unto mine: I shall  
In wedlock sure knit, and make her his own,  
Thus shall the marriage be: to whose request  
Without debate Venus did seem to yield,  
And smiled soft, as she that found the wile,  
Then from the seas, the dawning 'gan arise,  
The Sun once up, the chosen youth 'gan throng  
Out at the gates: the hays so rarely knit,  
The hunting staves with their broad heads of steel  
And of Masile the horsemen fourth they broke  
Of scenting hounds a kennel huge like wise.  
And at the threshold of her chamber door,  
The Carthage Lords did on the Queen attend.  
The trampling steed with gold and purple trapped,  
Chawing the fomte bit, there sercely stood.  
Then issued she, awaited with great train,  
Clad in a cloak of tire embradred rich.  
Her quiver hung behind her back, her tress  
Knotted in gold, her purple vesture eke  
Burned with gold, the Trojans of her train  
Before her go with gladsome Julus.  
Aencas eke the goodliest of the rout  
Makes one of them, and toyneth close the throngs:  
Like when Apollo leaveth Lycia,  
His wintering place, and Xanthus' floods likewise:  
To viset Delos his mother's mansion:  
Repairing eft and furnishing her choir  
The Candians, and folks of dryops,  
With painted Agathyrsies shout, and cry:  
Environing the altars roundabout  
When that he walks upon mount Cynthus top:  
His sparkled tress repressed with garlands soft  
Of tender leaves, and trussed up in gold:  
His quivering darts clattering behind his back:  
So fresh and lusty did Aeneas seem:  
Such lordly port in present countenance.   

But to the hills, and wild hottes when they came:  
From the rocks top the driven savage rose,  
Lo from the hill above on tother side,  
Through the wide lands, they 'gan to take their course  
The hearts likewise, in troops taking their flight,  
Raising the dust, the mountain fast forsake.  
The child Julus, blithe of his swift steed  
Amids the plain now pricks by them, now thes:  
And to encounter wisheth oft in mind  
The foaming Boar in steed of fearful beasts,  
Or Lion brown might from the hill descend.   

In the mean while the skies 'gan rumble sore:  
In tail thereof, a mingled shower with hail.  
The Tyrian folk, and eke the Trojans youth,  
And Venus' nephew the cottage? for fear  
Sought round about: the floods fell from the hills.  
Dido a den, the Trojan prince the same,  
Chanced upon. Our mother then the earth,  
And Juno that hath charge of marriage,  
First tokens gave with burning gledes of flame,  
And privy to the wedlock lightning skies:  
And the Nymphs yelled from the mountains top.  
Ay me, this was the first day of their mirth,  
And of their harms the first occasion eke.  
Respect of fame no longer her witholdes:  
Nor museth now to frame her love by stealth.  
Wedlock she calls it: under the pretence  
Of which fair name she cloaketh now her fault.  
Forthwith Fame flich through the great Libyan towns:  
A mischief Fame, there is none else so swift:  
That moving grows, and flitting gathers force:  
First small for dread, soon after climes the skies:  
Stayeth on earth; and hides her head in clouds.  
Whom our mother the earth, tempted by wrath  
Of Gods, begat: the last sister (they writ)  
To Caeus, and to Enccladus eke,  
Speedy of foot, of wing likewise as swift,  
A monster huge, and dreadful to descrive.  
In every plume, that on her body sticks,  
(A thing in deed much marvelous to hear)  
As many waker eyes lurk underneath,  
So many mouths to speak, and listening ears,  
By night she flies amid the cloudy sky,  
Shrieking by the dark shadow of the earth,  
Ne doth decline to the sweet sleep her eyes.  
By day she sits to mark on the house top,  
Or turrets high, and the great towns asraies.  
As mindful of ill and lies as blazing truth.  
This monster blithe with many a tale 'gan sow  
This rumour then into the common ears:  
As well things done as that was never wrought:  
As that there comen is to Tyrians court  
Aeneas one outsprong of Trojan blood  
To whom fair Dido would herself be wed.  
And that the while the winter long they pass  
In foul delight, forgetting charge of reign,  
Led against honour with unhonest lust.   

This in each mouth, the filthy Goddess spreads,  
And takes her course to king Hiarbas strait  
Kindling his mind: with tales she feeds his wrath,  
Gotten was he by Ammon Jupiter  
Upon the ravished Nymph of Garamant.  
An hundred hugy great temples be built,  
In his far stretching realms, to Jupiter.  
Altars as many kept with waking flame,  
Awatche always upon the Gods to tend.  
The floors imbrued with yielded blood of beasts,  
And threshold spread with garlands of strange hue.  
He would of mind, kindled by bitter brute,  
Tofore thaitars, in presence of the Gods,  
With reared hands 'gan humbly Jove entreat,  
Almighty God whom the moors nation  
Fed at rich tables presenteth with wine,  
Seest thou these things? or fear we thee in vain  
When thou lettest fly thy thunder from the clouds?  
Or do those flames with vain noise us affray?  
A woman that wandering in our coasts hath bought  
A plot for price: where she a city set:  
To whom we gave the strong for to manure.  
And laws to rule her town: our wedlock loathed,  
Hath chose Aeneas to command her realm.  
That Paris now with his unmanly force,  
With mitred hats, with ointed bush and beard:  
His rape enjoyth: while to thy temples we  
Our offerings bring, and follow rumours vain,  
Whom praying in such sort, and gripping eke  
The altars fast, the mighty father heard:  
And writhed his look toward the royal walls  
And lovers eke forgetting their good name,  
To Mercury then gave he thus in charge.  
Hence son in haste, and call to thee the winds.  
Slide with thy plumes, and tell the Trojan prince,  
That now in Carthage loytreth, reckless  
Of the towns granted him by destiny:  
Swift through the skies, see thou these words convey.  
His fair mother behight him not to us  
Such one to beme therefore twice him saved  
From Greekish arms: but such a one  
As meet might seem great Italy to rule  
dreadful in arms, charged with signiory,  
Showing in proof his worthy Teucrian race.  
And under laws, the whole world to subdue,  
If glory of such things nought him inflame:  
Ne that he lists seek honour by some pain:  
The towers yet of Rome being his sire  
Doth he envy to young Ascanius?  
What mindeth he to frame? or on what hope  
In enemies land doth he make his abode?  
Ne his offspring in Italy regards?  
Ne yet the land of Lavin doth behold?  
Bid him make sail: have here the sum and end  
Our message thus report. When Jove had said  
Then Mercury 'gan, bend him to obey  
His mighty father's will: and to his heels  
His golden wings he knits, which him transport  
With a light wind above the earth, and seas.  
And then with him his wand he took, whereby  
He calls from hell pale ghosts: and other some  
Thither also he sendeth comfortless.  
Whereby he forceth sleeps and them berenes,  
And mortal eyes he closeth up in death:  
By power whereof he drives the winds away.  
And passeth eke amid the troubled clouds.  
Till in his flight he 'gan descry the top.  
And the steep flanks of rocky Atlas' hill:  
That with his crown susteines the welkin up:  
Whose head forgrown, with pine, circled always,  
With misty clouds, beaten, with wind and storm:  
His shoulders spread with snow, and from his chin  
The springs descend: hisbeard frozen with ice.  
Here Mercury with equal shining wings  
First touched, and with body headling bet:  
To the water th'end took he his descent,  
Like to the foul, that endlong costs and strands  
Swarming with fish, flies sweping by the sea:  
Cutting betwixt the winds and Libyan lands,  
From his grandfather by the motl er side,  
Cillenes child so came, and then alight  
Upon the houses with his winged feet.  
To fore towers, where he Aeneas saw  
Fcundations cast arering lodges new.  
Gird with a sword of Jasper starry bright:  
A shining parel flameed with stately eye  
Of Tyrian purple hung his shoulders down  
The gift and work of wealthy Dido's hand  
Stripped throughout with a thin thread of gold,  
Thus he encounters him: Oh careless wight  
Both of thy realm, and of thine own affairs:  
A wifebound man now dost thou rear the walls  
Of high Cartage, to build a goodly town.  
From the bright skies the ruler of the Gods  
Sent me to thee, that with his beck commands  
Both heaven and earth: in haste gave me charge  
Through the light air: his message thee to say.  
what framest thou? or on what hope thy time  
In idleness doth waste in Africa land?  
Of so great things, if nought the fame thee stir,  
Ne list by travail honour to pursue:  
Ascanus yet, that waxeth fast behold,  
And the hope of Juius seed thine heir:  
To whom the realm of Italy belongs,  
And soil of Rome. When Mercury had said:  
Amid his tale far of from mortal eyes  
Into light air, he vanished out of sight.   

Aeneas with that vision stricken down,  
Well near bestraught, upstart his hear for dread,  
Amid his throtal his voice likewise 'gan stick.  
For to departed by night he longeth now,  
And the sweet land to leave, astoined sore  
With this adiuse, and message of the Gods.  
What may he do, alas? or by what words  
Dare he persuade the raging Queen in love?  
Or in what sort may he his tale begin?  
Now here now there his reckless mind 'gan run,  
And diversly him draws discoursing all.  
After long doubts this sentence seemed best:  
Mnestheus first, and strong Cloanthus eke  
He calls to him, with Sergest: unto whom  
He gave in charge his navy secretly  
For to prepare, and drive to the sea coast  
His people, and their armour to address:  
And for the cause of change to feign excuse:  
And that he, when good Dido least foreknew,  
Or did suspect so great a love could break,  
Would wait his time to speak thereof most meet:  
The nearest way to hasten his intent.  
Gladly his will, and biddings they obey.   

Full soon the Queen, this crafty sleight 'gan smell,  
(Who can deceive a lover in forecast?)  
And first foresaw the motions for to come,  
Things most assured fearing: unto whom  
That wicked fame reported, how to flight  
Was armed the fleet all ready to avail.  
Then ill bestead of counsel rageth she:  
And whisketh through the town like Bacchus nun,  
As Thias stirs, the sacred rites begun,  
And when the wont third years sacrifice  
Doth prick her fourth, herring Bacchus name hallowed:  
And that the festful night of Cithaeron  
Doth call her fourth with 'noys of dancing   

At length herself bordeth Aeneas thus.  
Unfaithful wight to cover such a fault  
Coldest thou hope? unwist to leave my land?  
Nor thee our love, nor yet right hand betrothed,  
Ne cruel death of Dido may withhold?  
But that thou wilt in winter ships prepare,  
And try the seas in broil of whorling winds?  
What if the land thou seekest, were not strange?  
If not unkno ven? or ancient Troy yet stood?  
In rough seas, yet should Troy town be sought?  
Shunnest thou me? By these tears, and right hand,  
(For nought else have I wretched left myself)  
By our spousals and marriage begun,  
If I of thee deserved ever well  
Or thing of mine were ever to thee lief:  
Rue on this realm, whose ruin is at hand?  
If ought be left that prater may avail,  
I thee beseech to do away this mind.  
The Libyans and tirans of Nomadane  
For thee me hate: my Tirians eke for thee  
Are wroth: by thee my shamefastness eke stained,  
And good renown, whereby up to the stars  
Peerless I claim. To whom wilt thou me leave.  
Ready to die, my sweet guest? sith this name  
Is all as now, that of a spouse remains.  
But whereto now should I prolong my death?  
What? until my brother Pygmalion  
Beat down my walls? or the Getulian king  
Hiarbas yet captive lead me away?  
Before thy flight a child had I once borne,  
Or seen a young Aeneas in my court  
Play up and down, that might present thy face:  
All utterly I could not seem forsaken.   

Thus said the Queen: he to the Gods advise  
Unmoved held his eyes, and in his breast  
Repressed his care, and strove against his wil  
And these few words at last then forth he cast:  
Never shall I deny (Queen) thy desert,  
Greater than thou in words may well express:  
To think on thee, ne irk me aye it shall  
Whiles of my slelfe I shall have memory,  
And whiles the spirit these Limbs of mine shall rule,  
For present purpose somewhat shall I say.  
Never meant I to clok the same by stealth  
Slander me not, ne to escape by flight,  
Nor I to thee pretended marriage:  
Ne hither came to join men such league.  
If destiny at mine own liberty  
To lead my life would have have permitted me  
After my will my sorrow to redoub:  
Troy and the remainder of our folk  
Restore I should: and with these scaped hands,  
The walls again unto thee vanquished,  
And palace high of Priam eke repair.  
But now Apollo, called Grineus,  
And prophecies of Licia me advise  
To seize upon the realm of Italy.  
That is my love, my country, and my land.  
If Cartage turrets thee Phenician borne.  
And of a Libyan town the sight detain:  
To us Troyans' why dost thou then envy  
In Italy to make our risting seat:  
leeful is ●eke for us strange realms to seek.  
As oft as night doth cloak with shadows dark  
The earth: as oft as flaming stars apere:  
The troubled ghost of my father Anchises  
So oft in sleep doth fray me, and advise,  
The wronged head by me of my dear son,  
Whom I defraud of the Hisperian crown,  
And lands allotted him by destiny.  
The messenger eke of the Gods but late  
Sent down from Jove (I swore by either head)  
Passing the air, did this to me report.  
In bright day light the God myself I saw  
Entre these walls, and with these cares him heard.  
Levethen with plaint, to vex both the and me.  
Against my will to Italy I go.   

Whiles in this sort he did his tale pronounce,  
With wayward look she 'gan him ay behold,  
And rolling eyes, that moved to and fro:  
With silence look discoursing over all,  
And forth in rage, at last thus 'gan she brayed,  
Faithless, forsworn, ne Goddess was thy dam,  
Nor Dardanus beginner of thy race,  
But of hard rocks mount Caucase monstrous  
Bred thee, and teats of Tiger gave thee suck.  
But what should I dissemble now my there?  
Or me reserve to hope of greater things?  
Minds he our tears: or ever moved his eyen?  
Wept he for ruth? or pitied he our love?  
What shall I set before? or where begin?  
Juno nor Jove with just eyes this beholds.  
Faith is no where in surety to be found.  
Did I not him thrown up upon my shore  
In need receive, and fonded eke invest  
Of half my realm: his name lost, repair?  
From deaths danger his fellows eke defend?  
Ay me, with rage and furies lo I drive.  
Apollo now, now Lycian prophecies,  
Another while the messenger of Gods  
(He says) sent down from mighty Jove himself  
The dreadful charge amid the skies hath brought.  
As though that were the travil of the Gods,  
Or such a care their quietness might move.  
I hold thee not, nor yet gainsay thy words,  
To Italy pass on by help of winds,  
And through the floods go search thy kingdom new.  
If ruthful Gods have any power, I trust,  
A mid the rocks, thy guerdon thou shalt find,  
When thou shalt clepe full oft on Dido's name,  
With burial brands I absent shall thee thase,  
And when cold death from life these limbs divides,  
My ghost each where shall still on thee await,  
Thou shalt abye and I shall here thereof.  
Among the souls below thy brute shall come.  
With such like words she cut of half her tale,  
With pensive heart abandoning the light:  
And from his sight, herself 'gan far remove:  
For saking him: that many things in fere  
imagined, and did prepare to say.  
Heri wouning limbs her damsels 'gan relieve,  
And to her chamber bare of marble stone:  
And laid her on her bed with tapets spread.  
But just Aeneas, though he did desire  
With comfort sweat her sorrows to appease,  
And with his words to banish all her care,  
Wailing her much, with great love overcome:  
The Gods will yet he worketh, and resorts  
Unto his name, where the Trojans fast  
Fell to their work from the shore to unstock  
High rigged ships: now fleets the talowed keel,  
Their oars with leaves yet green from wood they bring,  
And masts unshave, for haste to take then night.  
You might have seen them throng out of the town  
Like ants, when they do spoil the bing of corn,  
For winter's dread, which they bear to their den:  
When the black swarm creeps over all the fields:  
And thwart the grass by straight paths drags their prey,  
The great grains then, some on their shoulders truss,  
Some drive the troop, some chastise eke the slow:  
That with their travail chafed is each path.  
Beholding this, what thought might Dido have?  
What sighs gave she? when from her towers high  
The large coasts she saw haunted with Trojans works,  
And in her sight the seas with din confounded.  
O witless love, what thing is that to do  
A mortal mind thou canst not force thereto?  
Forced she is to tears ay to return,  
With new requests, to yield her heart to love:  
And lest she should before her causeless death  
Leave any thing untried: O sister Anne  
Quoth she, behold the whole coast round about,  
How they prepare assembled every where.  
The streming sails abidn●● but for wind:  
The shipmen crown their ships with vows for joy,  
O sister, if so great a sorrow I  
Mistrusted had: it were more light to bear.  
Yet nevertheless this for me wretched wight,  
Anne, shalt thou do: for faithless, thee alone  
He reverenced, she eke his secrets told:  
The meetest tune thou knewest to board the man:  
To my proud foe, thus sister humbly say:  
I with the greeks within the port Aulids.  
Consured not the Trojans to destroy:  
Nor to the walls of Troy yet sent my fleet:  
Nor cinders of his father Anchises  
Disturbed have out of his scpulture.  
Why lets he not my words sink in his ears  
So hard to overtreate: whither whirls he?  
This last boon yet grant he to wretched love  
Prospectous winds for to departed with case,  
Let him abide: the foresaid marriage now,  
That he betrayed, I do not him require:  
Nor that he should fair Italy forego.  
Neither I would, he should his kingdom leave:  
Quiet I ask, and a time of delay,  
And respite eke my fury to assuage,  
Till my mishap teach me all comfortless,  
How for to wail my grief. This latter grace,  
Sister I crave, have thou remorse of me,  
Which if thou shalt vouchsafe, with heaps I shall  
Leave by my death redoubled unto thee.  
Moisted with tears, thus wretched 'gan she plain:  
Which Anne reports, and answer brings again.  
Nought tears him move, ne yet to any words  
He can be framed with gentle mind to yield.  
The words withstand, & God stops his meek ears.  
Like to the aged boisterous bodied oak,  
The which among the alpes, the Northern winds,  
Blowing now from this quarter, now from that,  
Betwixt them strive to overwhelm with blasts,  
The whistling air among the branches rores,  
Which all at once bow to the earth her crops,  
The stock once smit: whiles in the rocks the tree  
Sticks fast: and look, how high to the heaven her top  
Rears up, so deep her root spreads down to hell:  
So was this Lord now here now there beset  
With words, in whose stout breast wrought many cares,  
But still his mind in one remains, in vain  
The tears were shed. Then Dido frayed of fates  
Wishes for death, irked to see the skies.  
And that she might the rather work her will,  
And leave the light (a grisly thing to tell)  
Upon the altars burning full of cense  
When she set gifts of sacrifice, she saw  
The holy water stocks wax black within,  
The wine eke shed, change into filthy gore.  
This she to none, not to her sister told.  
A marble temple in her palace eke,  
In memory of her old spouse, there stood,  
In great honour and worship, which she held,  
With snowwhite clothes decked, and with bows of feast,  
whereout was heard, her husbands voyc, and speech  
Cleping for her, when dark night hide the earth,  
And oft the Owl with rueful song complained,  
From the house top drawing long doleful tunes  
And many things forespoke by prophets passed  
With dreadful warning 'gan her now affray:  
And stern Aeneas seemed in her sleep  
To chase her still about, distraught in rage:  
And still her thought that she was left alone  
Uncompanied great utages to wend.  
In desert land her Tyrian folk to seek.  
Like Pentheus, that in his madness saw  
Swarming in flocks the furies all of hell:  
Two Suns remove, and Thebes town show twain.  
Or like Orestes Agamemnon's son:  
In tragedies who represented aye,  
Driven about, that from his mother fled  
Armed with brands, and eke with serpent's black:  
That sitting found within the temples porch  
The ugly furies his slaughter to revenge.  
Yelden to woe, when frenzy had her caught,  
Within herself than 'gan she well debate,  
Full bent to die, the time, and eke the mean;  
And to her woeful sister thus she said,  
In outward cheer dissembling her intent,  
Presenting hope under a semblant glad:  
Sister rejoice, for I have found the way  
Him to return, or lose me from his love.  
Toward the end of the great Ocean flood  
Where as the wandering Sun descendeth hence:  
In the extremes of Ethiope is a place,  
Where huge Atlas doth on his shoulders turn  
The sphere so rund with flaming stars beset,  
Borne of Massyle, I hear should be a Nun  
That of thesperian sister's temple old  
And of their goodly garden keeper was  
That gives unto the Dragon eke his food,  
That on the tree preserves the holy fruit  
That home moist, and sleeping poppy casts,  
This woman doth avaunt, by force of charm  
What heart she list to set at liberty:  
And other some to pierce with heavy cares:  
In running flood to stop the waters course:  
And eke the stars their meving to reverse:  
Lassemble eke, the ghosts that walk by night,  
Under thy feet, th'earth thou shalt behold  
Tremble and roar, the oaks come from the hill.  
The Gods and thee, dear sister now I call  
In witness, and thy head to me so sweet:  
To magic arts against my will I bend.  
Right secretly within our inner court.  
In open air rear up a stack of wood:  
And hang thereon the weapon of this man  
The which he left within my chamber stick.  
His weeds despoiled all, and bridal bed,  
Wherein alas sister, I found my bane,  
Charge thereupon, for so the Nun commands;  
To do away, what did to him belong,  
Of that false wight that might remembrance bring.   

Then whisted she, the pale her face 'gan stain,  
Ne could yet Anne believe, her sister meant  
To cloak her death by this new sacrifice:  
Nor in her breast such fury did conceive,  
Neither doth she now dread more grievous thing,  
Then followed Sichees death: wherefore  
She put her will in ure. But then the Nuene  
When that the stak of wood was reared up,  
Under the air within the inward court  
With cloven oak, and billets made of fir,  
With garlands, she doth all beset the place,  
And with green bows eke crown the funeral.  
And thereupon his weeds and sword yleft  
And on a bed his picture she bestows:  
As she that well foreknew what was to come.  
The altars stand about, and eke the Nun  
With sparkled tress, the which three hundred Gods  
With a loud voice doth thunder out at once:  
Erebus the grisly, and Chaos huge,  
And eke the threefold Goddess, Hecate  
And three faces of Diana the virgin,  
And sprinkcles eke the water counterfeit  
Like unto black avernus lake in hell:  
And springing herbs reaped up with brazen scythes  
Were sought after the right course of the Moon,  
The venom black intermingled with milk,  
The lump of flesh between the new borne foals eyen  
To reave, that winneth from the dam her love.  
She with the mole all in her hands devout  
Stood near the altar, bare of the one soot,  
With vesture lose, the bands unlaced all,  
Bend for to die, calls the Gods to record,  
And guilty stars eke of her destiny.  
And if there were any God that had care  
Of lovers hearts not moved with love alike,  
Him she requires of justice to remember.   

It was then night, the sound and quiet sleep  
Had through the earth the wearied bodies caught,  
The woods, the raging seas were feign to rest,  
When that the stars had half their course declined,  
The fields whist, beasts, and fowls of divers hue,  
And what so that in the broad lakes remained,  
Or yet among the bushy thicks of briar,  
Laid down to slope by silence of the night  
'Gan sooage their cares, mindless of travels past,  
Not so the spirit of this Phenician:  
Unhappy she that on no sleep could chance,  
Nor yet nights rest enter in eye or breast.  
Her cares redoble: love doth rise and rage again.  
And overflows with swelling storms of wrath.  
Thus thinks she then, this rolls she in her mind,  
What shall I do? shall I now bear the scorn  
For to assay mine old wares again?  
And humbly yet a Numid spouse require?  
Whose marriage I have so oft disdained?  
The Trojan navy, and Teucrian vile commands  
Follow shall I? as though it should nuaile,  
That whilom by my help they were relieved:  
Or for because with kind, and mindful folk  
Right well doth sit the passed thankful deed?  
Who would me suffer? (admit this were my will)  
Or me scorned to their proud ships receive?  
Oh, woe begone: full little knowest thou yet,  
The broken oaths of Laomedon's kind.  
What then? alone on merry Mariners  
Shall I wait? or board them with my power  
Of Tyrians assembled me about:  
And such as I with travail brought from tire,  
drive to the seas, and force them save again?  
But rather die, even as thou hast deserved:  
And to this woe, with iron give thou end.  
And thou sister first vanquished with my tears,  
Thou in my rage with all these mischiefs first  
Didst burden me, and yield me to my foe.  
Was it not granted me from spousals free,  
Like to wild beasts, to live without offence,  
Without taste of such cares, is there no faith,  
Reserved to the cinders of Sychee?  
Such great complaints broke forth out of her breast:  
Whiles Aeneas full minded to departed,  
All things prepared, slept in the poop on high,  
To whom in sleep the wont Godheds' form  
'Gan aye appear, returning in like shape  
As seemed him: and 'gan him thus advise:  
Like unto Mercury in voice, and hue,  
With yellow bush, and comely ly●●es of youth.  
O Goddess son, in such case canst thou sleep?  
Ne yet distraught the dangers dost foresee,  
That compass thee? nor hearst the fair winds blow.  
Dido in mind rolls vengeance and desceite,  
Determed to die, swells with unstable ire,  
Wilt thou not flee whiles thou hast time of fight?  
Strait shalt thou see the seas covered with sails,  
The blazing brands, the shore all spread with flame,  
And if the morrow steal upon thee here:  
Come of, have done, set all delay aside.  
For full of change these women be always,  
This said, in the dark night he 'gan him hide.   

Aeneas of this sudden vision  
Dreaded starts up out of his sleep in haste,  
Calls up his fears: awake get up my men,  
Aboard your ships, and hoist up sail with speed,  
(A God me wills sent from above again)  
To hast my flight, and writhe cables cut.  
Oh holy God, what so thou art we shall  
Follow thee, and all blithe obey thy will:  
Be at our hand, and friendly us assist:  
Address the stars with prosperous influence.  
And with that word his gliftering sword unshethes,  
With which drawn, he the cables cut in twain.  
The like desire the rest embraced all,  
All thing in hast they cast, and fourth they whirl,  
The shores they leave, with ships the seasar spread,  
Cutting the foam, by the blue seas they sweep.  
Aurora now from Titan's purple bed,  
With new day light hath overspread the earth,  
When by her windows the Queen the peeping day  
Espied, and navy with splaid sails departed  
The shore, and eke the port of vessels void:  
Her comely breast thrice or four times she smote  
with her own hand, and tore her golden tress.  
Oh Jove (quoth she) shall he then thus departed  
A stranger thus, and scorn our kingdom so?  
Shall not my men do on their armure priest?  
And eke pursue them throughout all the town?  
Out of the road soon shall the vessel warp.  
Hast on, cast flame, set sail. and weld your owers.  
What said I: but where am I: what frenzy  
altars thy mind: unhappy Dido now  
Hath thee beset a froward destiny.  
Then it behoved, when thou didst give to him  
The sceptre. So his faith and his right hand,  
That leads with him (they say) his country goods,  
That on his back his aged father bore,  
His body might I not have caught and rend?  
And in the seas drenched him. and his fears?  
And from Ascanius his life with Iron reft,  
And set him on his father's board for meat?  
Of such debate perchance the fortune might  
Have been doubtful: would God it were assayed.  
Whom should I fear, sith I myself must die?  
Might I have thrown into that navy brands,  
And filled eke their decks with flaming fire,  
The father, son, and all their nation  
Destroyed, and fallen myself dead over al.  
Sun with thy beams, that mortal works descries,  
And thou Juno, that well these travades knowest,  
Proserpina thou, upon whom folk do use  
To howl, and call in forked ways by night,  
Infernal furies, ye wreakers of wrong,  
And Dido's Gods, who stands at point of death,  
Receive these words, and eke your heavy power  
Withdraw from me, that wicked folk deserve,  
And our request accept, we you beseech.  
If so that yonder wicked head must needs  
Recover port, and fail to land of force  
And if Jeves will have so resolved it,  
And such end set as no wight can fordo,  
Yet at the least asailed mought he be  
With arms, and wars of hardy nations,  
From the bounds of his kingdom far exiled,  
Julus the rashed out of his arms  
Driven to call for help, that he may see  
The guiltless corpses of his folk lie dead:  
And after hard conditions of peace,  
His realm, nor life desired may he brook:  
But fall before his time ungraved amid the sands.  
This I require, these words with blood I shed.  
And Trians, ye his flock and all his race  
Pursue with hate, reward our cinders so.  
No love nor league, betwixt our peeples be.  
And of our bones, some wreaker may there spring,  
With sword and flame that Troyans' may pursue:  
And from henceforth when that our power may stretch,  
Our costs to them contrary be for ay,  
I crave of God, and our streams to their floods,  
Arms unto arms, and offspring of each race  
With mortal war each other may fordo  
This said, her mind she writhed on all sides,  
Seeking with speed to end her irksome life.  
To Sichees nurse Barcen then thus she said  
(For hers at home in ashes did remain)  
Call unto me (dear nurse) my sister Anne:  
Bid her, in haste in water of the flood  
She sprinkle she body and bring the beasts,  
And purging sacrifice, I did her show:  
So let her come: and thou thy temples bind  
With sacred garlands: for the sacrifice,  
That I to Pluto have begun, my mind  
Is to herforme, and give end to these cares:  
And Trojan statue throw into the flame.  
When she had said, redouble 'gan her nurse  
Her steps, forth on an aged woman's trot.  
But trembling Dido eagerly now bend  
Upon her stern determination,  
Her bloodshot eyes rolling within her head:  
Her quivering cheeks flecked with deadly stain,  
Both pale and wan to think on death to come,  
Into the inward wards of her palace  
She rusheth in, and clam up, as distraught,  
The burial stack, and drew the Trojan sword  
Her gift sometime, but meant to no such use.  
Where when she saw his weed, and well known bed,  
Weeping a while in study 'gan she stay,  
Fell on the bed, and thief last words she said.  
Sweet spoils, whiles God and destinies it would,  
receive this spirit, and rid me of these cares.  
I lived and ran the course, fortune did grant,  
And under earth my great ghost now shall wend.  
A goodly town I built, and saw my walls:  
Happy, alas to happy, if these costs  
The Trojan ships had never touched aye.   

This said, she laid her mouth close to the bed:  
Why then (quoth she) unwroken shall we die?  
But let us die for thus: and in this sort  
It liketh us to seek the shadows dark.  
And from the seas the cruel Trojans eyes  
Shall well discern this flame, and take with him  
Eke these unlucky tokens of mydeath.  
In she had said, her danisell might perceive  
Her with these words fall pierced on a sword,  
The blade imbrued and hands besprent with gore  
The clamour rang unto the palace tap,  
The brute ran throughout all th' astoned town,  
With waiting great, and women's shrill yelling,  
The roofs 'gan roar, the air resound with plaint,  
As though Cartage, or thau●●ent town of tire  
With press of entered enemies swarmed full,  
Or when the rage of furious flame doth take  
The temples tops, and mansions eke of men.   

Her sister Anne, spriteless for dread to hear  
This fearful stir, with nails 'gan tear her face,  
She smote her breast, and rushed through the rout:  
And her dying she cleapes thus by her name:  
Sister, for this with craft did you me board?  
The stak, the flame, the altars, bred they this?  
What shall I first complain, forsaken wight?  
Loathest thou in death thy sister's fellowship?  
Thou shouldst have called me to like destiny:  
One woe, one sword, one hour mought end us both.  
This funeral stak built I with these hands,  
And with this voice cleped our native Gods,  
And cruel so absentest me from thy death:  
Destroyed thou hast (sister) both thee and me,  
Thy people eke, and princes borne of tire.  
give, here I shall with water wash her wounds,  
And suck with mouth her breath, if ought be left.   

This said, unto the high degrees she mounted,  
Embracing fast her sister now half dead,  
With wailful plaint: whom in her lap she laid,  
The black swart gore wiping dry with her clothes.  
But Dido striveth to lift up again  
Her heavy eyen, and hath no power thereto:  
Deep in her breast, that fixed wound doth gape.  
Thrice leaning on her elbow ganshe raise  
Herself, upward: and thrice she overthrew  
Upon the bed: ranging with wandering eyes  
The skies for light, and wept when she it found.   

Almighty Juno having ruth by this  
Of her long pains, and eke her lingering death,  
From heaven she sent the Goddess Iris down,  
The throwing spirit, and ●ointed 〈…〉 to lose,  
For that neither by lot of destiny,  
Nor yet by kindly death she perished:  
But wretchedly before her fatal day.  
And kindled with a sudden rage offlame:  
Proserpina had not from her head bereft  
The golden hear, nor judged her to hell.  
The dewy Iris thus with golden wings,  
A thousand hues showing against the sun,  
Amid the skies than did she fly adown:  
On Dido's head, where as she 'gan a light:  
This hear (quoth she) to Pluto consecrate.  
Commanded I reave, and thy spirit unloose.  
From this body: and when she thus had said,  
With her right hand she cut the hear in twain:  
And therewith all the kindly heat 'gan quench?  
And into wind the life forthwith resolve.   
Finis.   

❧ Imprinted at London in fleet street within Temple bar, at the sign of the hand and star, by Richard tottel the. xxi. day of June. An. 1557.