Enter Venus.
Ven. What should this mean? my doves are back return'd Who warn me of such danger prest [497] at hand To harm my sweet Ascanius' lovely life.— Juno, my mortal foe, what make you here? Avaunt, old witch! and trouble not my wits.
Juno. Fie, Venus, that such causeless words of wrath Should e'er defile so fair a mouth as thine! Are not we both sprung of celestial race, And banquet, as two sisters, with the gods? Why is it, then, displeasure should disjoin30 Whom kindred and acquaintance co-unites?
Ven. Out, hateful hag! thou wouldst have slain my son, Had not my doves discovered thy intent: But I will tear thy eyes fro forth thy head, And feast the birds with their blood-shotten balls, If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy.
Juno. Is this, then, all the thanks that I shall have For saving him from snakes' and serpents' stings, That would have killed him, sleeping, as he lay? What, though I was offended with thy son,40 And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land, When, for the hate of Trojan Ganymede, [498] That was advancèd by my Hebe's shame, And Paris' judgment of the heavenly ball, I mustered all the winds unto his wreck, And urg'd each element to his annoy? Yet now I do repent me of his ruth, And wish that I had never wrong'd him so. Bootless, I saw, it was to war with fate That hath so many unresisted [499] friends:50 Wherefore I changed [500] my counsel with the time, And planted love where envy erst had sprung.
Ven. Sister of Jove, if that thy love be such As these thy protestations do paint forth, We two, as friends, one fortune will divide: Cupid shall lay his arrows in thy lap, And to a sceptre change his golden shafts; Fancy [501] and modesty shall live as mates, And thy fair peacocks by my pigeons perch: Love, my Æneas, and desire is thine;60 The day, the night, my swans, my sweets, are thine.
Juno. More than melodious are these words to me, That overcloy my soul with their content. Venus, sweet Venus, how may I deserve Such amorous favours at thy beauteous hand? But, that thou mayst more easily perceive How highly I do prize this amity, Hark to a motion of eternal league, Which I will make in quittance of thy love. Thy son, thou know'st, with Dido now remains,70 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.80
Ven. Well could I like this reconcilement's means; But much I fear my son will ne'er consent, Whose armèd soul, already on the sea, Darts forth her light [un]to Lavinia's shore.
Juno. Fair queen of love, I will divorce these doubts, And find my way to weary such fond thoughts. This day they both a-hunting forth will ride Into the [502] woods adjoining to these walls; When, in the midst of all their gamesome sports, I'll make the clouds dissolve their watery works,90 And drench Silvanus' dwellings with their showers; Then in one cave the queen and he shall meet, And interchangeably discourse their thoughts, Whose short conclusion will seal up their hearts Unto the purpose which we now propound.
Ven. Sister, I see you savour of my wiles: Be it as you will have [it] for this once. Meantime Ascanius shall be my charge; Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms, And couch him in Adonis' purple down.100 [Exeunt.