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DIDO,

QUEEN OF CARTHAGE.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I. Here the curtains draw :-there is discovered JUPITER dandling Ganymede upon his knee, and MERCURY lying asleep.

Jup. Come, gentle Ganymede, and play with me; I love thee well, say Juno what she will.

Gan. I am much better for your worthless love, That will not shield me from her shrewish blows: To-day, when as I fill'd into your cups, And held the cloth of pleasance while you drank, She reach'd me such a rap for that I spilld, As made the blood run down about mine ears. Jup. What! dares she strike the darling of my

thoughts? By Saturn's soul, and this earth threat'ning air, That, shaken thrice, makes nature's buildings quake, 1 if she but once frown on thee more, To hang her, meteor-like, 'twixt heaven and earth, And bind her hand and foot with golden cords, As once I did for harming Hercules !

FOW,

GAN, Might I but see that pretty sport a-foot, O how would I with Helen's brother laugh, And bring the Gods to wonder at the game. Sweet Jupiter ! if e'er I pleas'd thine eye, Or seemed fair wall’d-in with eagle's wings, Grace my immortal beauty with this boon, And I will spend my time in thy bright arms. Jup. What is't, sweet wag, I should deny thy

youth? Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes, As I, exhal'd with thy fire-darting beams, Have oft driven back the horses of the night, When as they would have had thee from my sight. Sit on my knee, and call for thy content, Controul proud fate, and cut the thread of time : Why, are not all the gods at thy command, And heaven and earth the bounds of thy delight? Vulcan shall dance to make thee laughing sport, And my nine daughters sing when thou art sad; From Juno's bird I'll pluck her spotted pride, To make thee fans wherewith to cool thy face; And Venus' swans shall shed their silver down, To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed : Hermes no more shall shew the world his wings, If that thy fancy in his feathers dwell, But as this one I'll tear them all from him, Do thou but say, “ their colour pleaseth me.” Hold here, my little love, these linked gems, My Juno wore upon her marriage day, Put thou about thy neck, my own sweet heart,

And trick thy arms and shoulders with my

theft.
Gan. I would have a jewel for mine ear,
And a fine broach to put into my hat,
And then I'll hug with you a hundred times.

Jup. And shalt have, Ganymede, if thou wilt be

my love.

Enter VENUS.
Ven. Aye, this is it; you can sit toying there,
And playing with that female wanton boy,
While

my

Æneas wanders on the seas, And rests a prey to every billow's pride. Juno, false Juno, in her chariot's pomp, Drawn through the heavens by steeds of Boreas'

brood, Made Hebe to direct her airy wheels Into the windy country of the clouds ; Where, finding Æolus intrench'd with storms, And guarded with a thousand grisly ghosts, She humbly did beseech him for our bane, And charg'd him drown my son with all his train. Then 'gan the winds break ope their brazen doors, And all Eolia to be

up

in arms; Poor Troy must now be sack'd upon

the

sea, And Neptune's waves be envious men of war; Epeus' horse to Atna's hill transform’d, Prepared stands to wreck their wooden walls; And Æolus, like Agamemnon, sounds The surges, like fierce soldiers, to the spoil : See how the night, Ulysses-like, comes forth, And intercepts the day as Dolon erst !

Ah, me! the stars surpris’d, like Rhesus' steeds,
Are drawn by darkness forth Astræa's tents.
What shall I do to save thee, my sweet boy?
When as the waves do threat our chrystal world,
And Proteus, raising hills of floods on high,
Intends, ere long, to sport him in the sky.
False Jupiter! reward'st thou virtue so?
What! is not piety exempt from woe?
Then die, Æneas, in thy innocence,
Since that religion hath no recompence.

Jup. Content thee, Cytherea, in thy care,
Since thy Æneas' wand'ring fate is firm,
Whose weary limbs shall shortly make repose
In those fair walls I promis'd him of yore:
But first in blood must his good fortune bud,
Before he be the lord of Turnus' town,
Or force her smile, that hitherto hath frown'd:
Three winters shall he with the Rutiles war,
And, in the end, subdue them with his sword ;
And full three summers likewise shall he waste,
In managing those fierce barbarian minds;
Which once perform'd, poor Troy, so long sup-

press'd,
From forth her ashes shall advance her head,
And flourish once again, that erst was dead :
But bright Ascanius' beauties better work,
Who with the sun divides one radiant shape,
Shall build his throne amidst those starry lowers,
That earth-born Atlas, groaning, underprops :
No bounds, but heaven, shall bound his empery,

Whose azur'd gates, enchased with his name,
Shall make the morning haste her grey uprise,
To feed her eyes with his engraven

fame.
Thus, in stout Hector's race, three hundred years
The Roman sceptre royal shall remain,
Till that a princess, priest-conceiv'd by Mars,
Shall yield to dignity a double birth,
Who will eternise Troy in their attempts.

Ven. How may I credit these thy flattering terms,
When yet both sea and sand beset their ships,
And Phoebus, as in Stygian pools, refrains
To taint his tresses in the Tyrrhene main ?

Jup. I will take order for that presently :
Hermes, awake! and haste to Neptune's realm;
Whereas the wind-god, warring now with fate,
Besiege the offspring of our kingly loins,
Charge him from me to turn his stormy powers,
And fetter them in Vulcan's sturdy brass,
That dorst thus proudly wrong our kinsman's
Venus, farewell! thy son shall be our care;
Come, Ganymede, we must about this gear.

[Ereunt Jupiter and Ganymede.
Ven. Disquiet seas, lay down your swelling looks,
And court Æneas with your calmy cheer,
Whose beauteous burden well might make you

proud, Had not the heavens, conceiv'd with hell-born

clouds, Veil'd his resplendent glory from your view; For my sake, pity him, Oceanus,

peace.

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