And feeds his eyes with favours of her court;
She, likewise, in admiring spends her time,
And cannot talk, nor think, of aught but him:
Why should not they then join in marriage,
And bring forth mighty kings to Carthage town,
Whom casualty of sea hath made such friends?
And, Venus, let there be a match confirm'd
Betwixt these two, whose loves are so alike;
And both our deities, conjoin'd in one,

Shall chain felicity unto their throne.

VEN. Well could I like this reconcilement's

means;

But, much I fear, my son will ne'er consent;

Whose armed soul, already on the sea,

Darts forth her light to Lavinia's shore.

JUNO. Fair queen of love! I will divorce these doubts,

And find the way to weary such fond thoughts.
This day they both a hunting forth will ride
Into these woods, adjoining to these walls;
When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports,
I'll make the clouds dissolve the wat❜ry works,
And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers;
Then, in one cave, the queen and he shall meet,
VEN. Sister, I see you savour of
Be it as you will have it for this once.
Mean time, Ascanius shall be my charge;
Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms,

my

wiles :

And couch him in Adonis' purple down.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter DIDO, ENEAS, ANNA, IARBAS, ACHATES and followers.

DIDO. Eneas, think not but I honour thee, That thus in person go with thee to hunt: My princely robes, thou see'st, are laid aside, Whose glittering pomp Diana's shroud supplies. All fellows now, dispos'd alike to sport; The woods are wide, and we have store of game. Fair Trojan, hold my golden bow awhile, Until I gird my quiver to my side: Lords, go before; we two must talk alone. IAR. Ungentle! can she wrong Iarbas so? I'll die before a stranger have that grace. We two will talk alone; -what words be these? DIDO. What makes Iarbas here of all the rest? We would have gone without your company. EN. But love and duty led him on perhaps, To press beyond acceptance to your sight.

IAR. Why, man of Troy, do I offend thine eyes? Or art thou griev'd thy betters press so nigh? DIDO. How now, Gætulian! are ye grown so brave To challenge us with your comparisons? Peasant! go seek companions like thyself, And meddle not with any that I love: Eneas, be not mov'd at what he says; For, otherwhile, he will be out of joint.

IAR. Women may wrong, by privilege of love; But, should that man of men, Dido except,

Have taunted me in these opprobrious terms,
I would have either drunk his dying blood,
Or else I would have given my life in gage

DIDO. Huntsmen, why pitch you not your toils

apace,

And rouse the light-foot deer from forth their lair?
ANNA. Sister, see! see Ascanius in his pomp,
Bearing his hunt-spear bravely in his hand.
DIDO. Yea, little son, are you so forward now?
Asc. Aye, mother; I shall one day be a man,
And better able unto other arms;

Mean time, these wanton weapons serve my war,
Which I will break betwixt a lion's jaws.

DIDO. What! dar'st thou look a lion in the face?
Asc. Aye, and outface him too, do what he can.
ANNA. How like his father speaketh he in all.
EN. And might I live to see him sack rich Thebes.
And load his spear with Grecian princes' heads,
Then would I wish me with Anchises' tomb,
And dead to honour that hath brought me up.
IAR. And might I live to see thee shipp'd away,
And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills,
Then would I wish me in fair Dido's arms,

And dead to scorn that hath pursued me so.

EN. Stout friend Achates, do'st thou know this wood?

ACHA. As I remember, here you shot the deer That sav'd your famish'd soldiers' lives from death, When first you set your foot upon the shore; And here we met fair Venus, virgin like,

Bearing her bow and quiver at her back.

EN. O how these irksome labours now delight And overjoy my thoughts with their escape! Who would not undergo all kind of toil,

To be well stor'd with such a winter's tale?

DIDO. Æneas, leave these dumps, and let's away, Some to the mountains, some unto the soil,

You to the vallies, thou unto the house.

[Exeunt all but Iarbas.

IAR. Aye, this it is which wounds me to the death,

To see a Phrygian, far set to the sea,

Preferr'd before a man of majesty.

O love! O hate! O cruel women's hearts,
That imitate the moon in every change!
And, like the planets, ever love to range:
What shall I do, thus wronged with disdain,
Revenge me on Eneas, or on her?

On her? fond man! that were to war 'gainst heaven,
And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts:
This Trojan's end will be thy envy's aim,
Whose blood will reconcile thee to content,
And make love drunken with thy sweet desire;
But Dido, that now holdeth him so dear,
Will die with very tidings of his death:
But time will discontinue her content,

And mould her mind unto new fancies' shapes.
O, God of heaven! turn the hand of fate
Unto that happy day of my delight;

And then,--what then?--Iarbas shall but love;
So doth he now, though not with equal gain,

That resteth in the rival of thy pain,

Who ne'er will cease to soar till he be slain. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A storm.-Enter ENEAS and DIDO in the cave, at several times.

DIDO. Æneas!

EN. Dido!

DIDO. Tell me, dear love! how found you out this cave?

Ex. By chance, sweet queen! as Mars and Venus

met.

DIDO. Why, that was in a net, here we are loose And yet, I am not free; oh, would I were ! Ex. Why, what is that Dido may desire, And not obtain, be it in human power? DIDO. The thing that I will die before I ask, And yet desire to have before I die.

Ex. It is not aught Æneas may achieve? DIDO. Eneas, no; although his eyes do pierce. Es. What, hath Iarbas anger'd her in aught? And will she be avenged on his life?

DIDO. Not anger'd me, except in ang'ring thee. EN. Who then, of all so cruel, may he be, That should detain thine eye in his defects? DIDO. The man that I do eye where'er I am; Whose amorous face, like Pæan's, sparkles fire, When as he butts his beams on Flora's bed. Prometheus hath put on Cupid's shape, And I must perish in his burning arms: