Dido. Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings Were up in arms, for making thee my love? How Carthage did rebel, Iarbas storm, And all the world calls me a second Helen, For being entangled by a stranger's looks? So thou wouldst prove as true as Paris did, Would, as fair Troy was, Carthage might be sack'd, And I be called a second Helena! Had I a son by thee, the grief were less, That I might see Æneas in his face:150 Now if thou go'st, what canst thou leave behind, But rather will augment than ease my woe?
Æn. In vain, my love, thou spend'st thy fainting breath: If words might move me, I were overcome.
Dido. And wilt thou not be mov'd with Dido's words? Thy [553] mother was no goddess, perjured man, Nor Dardanus the author of thy stock; But thou art sprung from Scythian Caucasus, And tigers of Hyrcania gave thee suck.— Ah, foolish Dido, to forbear this long!—160 Wast thou not wrecked upon this Libyan shore, And cam'st to Dido like a fisher swain? Repaired not I thy ships, made thee a king, And all thy needy followers noblemen? O serpent, that came creeping from the shore, And I for pity harbour'd in my bosom, Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting, And hiss at Dido for preserving thee? Go, go, and spare not; seek out Italy: I hope that that which love forbids me do,170 The rocks and sea-gulfs will perform at large, And thou shalt perish in the billows' ways To whom poor Dido doth bequeath revenge: I, traitor! and the waves shall cast thee up, Where thou and false Achates first set foot; Which if it chance, I'll give ye burial, And weep upon your lifeless carcasses, Though thou nor he will pity me a whit. Why starest thou in my face? If thou wilt stay, Leap in mine arms; mine arms are open wide;180 If not, turn from me, and I'll turn from thee; For though thou hast the heart to say farewell, I have not power to stay thee. [Exit Æneas. Is he gone? I, but he'll come again; he cannot go; He loves me too-too well to serve me so: Yet he that in my sight would not relent, Will, being absent, be obdurate [554] still. By this, is he got to the water-side; And, see, the sailors take him by the hand; But he shrinks back; and now remembering me,190 Returns amain: welcome, welcome, my love! But where's Æneas? ah, he's gone, he's gone!
Enter Anna.
Anna. What means my sister, thus to rave and cry?
Dido. O Anna, my Æneas is abroad, And, leaving me, will sail to Italy! Once didst thou go, and he came back again: Now bring him back, and thou shalt be a queen, And I will live a private life with him.
Anna. Wicked Æneas!
Dido. Call him not wicked, sister: speak him fair,200 And look upon him with a mermaid's eye; Tell him, I never vow'd at Aulis' gulf The desolation of his native Troy, Nor sent a thousand ships unto the walls, Nor ever violated faith to him; Request him gently, Anna, to return: I crave but this,—he stay a tide or two, That I may learn to bear it patiently; If he depart thus suddenly, I die. Run, Anna, run; stay not to answer me.210
Anna. I go, fair sister: heavens grant good success! [Exit.
Enter Nurse.