Yet thinks my mind that this is Priamus; And when my grieved heart sighs and says no, ACHA. Thy mind, Æneas, that would have it so, Deludes thy eye-sight; Priamus is dead. EN. Ah, Troy is sack'd, and Priamus is dead; And why should poor Eneas be alive? ASCA. Sweet father, leave to weep, this is not he : For were it Priam, he would smile on me. ACHA. Æneas, see, here come the citizens; ACHA. Like Ilioneus speaks this nobleman, SERG. Live long Eneas and Ascanius! Your sight amaz'd me: O, what destinies Have brought my sweet companions in such plight? O, tell me, for I long to be resolv'd. ILIO. Lovely Æneas, these are Carthage walls, And here Queen Dido wears th' imperial crown; Who, for Troy's sake, hath entertain'd us all, And clad us in these wealthy robes we wear. Oft hath she ask'd us under whom we serv'd, And when we told her, she would weep for grief, Thinking the sea had swallow'd up thy ships; And now she sees thee, how will she rejoice. SERG. See, where her servitors pass through the hall Bearing a banquet; Dido is not far. ILIO. Look where she comes: Æneas, view her well. EN. Well may I view her, but she sees not me. Enter DIDO and her Train. DIDO. What stranger art thou, that dost eye me thus? EN. Sometime I was a Trojan, mighty queen: But Troy is not ;-what shall I say I am? ILIO. Renowned Dido, 'tis our general, warlike Æneas. DIDO. Warlike Eneas! and in these base robes? Go, fetch the garment which Sicheus wore: Brave prince, welcome to Carthage and to me Sit in this chair, and banquet with a queen ; In weeds as bad as ever Irus wore. EN. This is no seat for one that's comfortless: May it please your grace to let Æneas wait; For though my birth be great, my fortune's mean, Too mean to be companion to a queen DIDO Thy fortune may be greater Sit down, Eneas, sit in Dido's place, And if this be thy son, as I suppose, Here let him sit; be merry, lovely child. than thy birth: EN. This place beseems me not; O, pardon me. ASCA. Madam, you shall be my mother. DIDO. And so I will, sweet child: be merry, man, Here's to thy better fortune and good stars. EN. In all humility, I thank your grace. DIDO. Remember who thou art, speak like thyself; Humility belongs to common grooms. EN. And who so miserable as Eneas is? DIDO. Lies it in Dido's hands to make thee blest? Then be assur'd thou art not miserable. Es. O Priamus, O Troy, O Hecuba! DIDO. May I entreat thee to discourse at large, And truly too, how Troy was overcome? For many tales go of that city's fall, And scarcely do agree upon one point: Some say Antenor did betray the town; DIDO. What! faints Eneas to remember Troy, In whose defence he fought so valiantly? Look up, and speak. EN. Then speak, Eneas, with Achilles' tongue! Lest you be mov'd too much with my sad tale. The winds did drive huge billows to the shor And heaven was darken'd with tempestuous clouds: Who, grov'ling in the mire of Zanthus' banks, As therewithal the old man, overcome, Kiss'd him, embrac'd him, and unloos'd his bands, And then,-O Dido, pardon me. DIDO. Nay, leave not here; resolve me of the rest. EN. Oh! the enchanting words of that base slave, Made him to think Epeus' pine-tree horse A sacrifice t' appease Minerva's wrath ; Breaking a spear upon his hollow breast, Was with two winged serpents stung to death. In which unhappy work was I employ'd: |