ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter [461] Æneas, Achates, Ascanius, and others.
Æn. Where am I now? these should be Carthage-walls.
Ach. Why stands my sweet Æneas thus amaz'd?
Æn. O my Achates, Theban Niobe, Who for her sons' death wept out life and breath, And, dry with grief, was turned into a stone, Had not such passions in her head as I! Methinks, That town there should be Troy, yon Ida's hill, There Xanthus' stream, because here's Priamus; And when I know it is not, then I die.10
Ach. And in this humour is Achates too; I cannot choose but fall upon my knees, And kiss his hand. O, where is Hecuba? Here she was wont to sit; but, saving air, Is nothing here; and what is this but stone? [462]
Æn. O, yet this stone doth make Æneas weep! And would my prayers (as Pygmalion's did) Could give it life, that under his condùct We might sail back to Troy, and be revenged On these hard-hearted Grecians which rejoice20 That nothing now is left of Priamus! O, Priamus is left, and this is he! Come, come aboard; pursue the hateful Greeks.