I die with melting ruth. Aeneas, leave.
ANNA. O, what became of aged Hecuba?
IARBUS. How got Aeneas to the fleet again?
DIDO. But how scaped Helen, she that caused this war?
AENEAS. Achates, speak. Sorrow hath tired me quite.
ACHATES. What happened to the queen we cannot show.
We hear they led her captive into Greece.
As for Aeneas, he swam quickly back,
Her lover, after Alexander died,
And so was reconciled to Menelaus.
DIDO. O, had that ticing strumpet ne'er been born!
Trojan, thy ruthful tale hath made me sad.
Come, let us think upon some pleasing sport
To rid me from these melancholy thoughts.
Exeunt omnes.
Enter Venus (with Cupid) at another door,
and takes Ascanius by the sleeve
VENUS. Fair child, stay thou with Dido's waiting maid.
I'll give thee sugar almonds, sweet conserves,
A silver girdle, and a golden purse,
And this young prince shall be thy playfellow.
ASCANIUS. Are you Queen Dido's son?
CUPID. Ay, and my mother gave me this fine bow.
ASCANIUS. Shall I have such a quiver and a bow?
VENUS. Such bow, such quiver, and such golden shafts
Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius.
For Dido's sake I take thee in my arms
And stick these spangled feathers in thy hat.
Eat comfits in mine arms and I will sing.
Now is he fast asleep, and in this grove
Amongst green brakes I'll lay Ascanius
And strew him with sweet smelling violets,
Blushing roses, purple hyacinth.
These milk-white doves shall be his centronels,
Who, if that any seek to do him hurt,
Will quickly fly to Cytherea's fist.
Now, Cupid, turn thee to Ascanius' shape
And go to Dido, who, in stead of him,
Will set thee on her lap and play with thee.
Then touch her white breast with this arrow head,
That she may dote upon Aeneas' love,
And by that means repair his broken ships,
Victual his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts,
And he at last depart to Italy,
Or else in Carthage make his kingly throne.
CUPID. I will, fair mother, and so play my part
As every touch shall wound Queen Dido's heart.
Exit.
VENUS. Sleep, my sweet nephew, in these cooling shades,
Free from the murmur of these running streams,
The cry of beasts, the rattling of the winds,
Or whisking of these leaves. All shall be still
And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep
Till I return and take thee hence again.
Exeunt.
ACT THREE, SCENE ONE
Enter Cupid solus, disguised as Asconius.
CUPID. Now, Cupid, cause the Carthaginian queen
To be enamoured of thy brother's looks.
Convey this golden arrow in thy sleeve,
Lest she imagine thou art Venus' son,
And when she strokes thee softly on the head,
Then shall I touch her breast and conquer her.
Enter Iarbas, Anna, and Dido.
IARBUS. How long, fair Dido, shall I pine for thee?
'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love,
But that I may enjoy what I desire.
That love is childish which consists in words.
DIDO. Iarbas, know that thou of all my wooers
(and yet have I had many mightier kings)
Hast had the greatest favours I could give.
I fear me, Dido hath been counted light
In being too familiar with Iarbas,
Albeit the gods do know no wanton thought
Had ever residence in Dido's breast.
IARBUS. But Dido is the favour I request.
DIDO. Fear not, Iarbas; Dido may be thine.
ANNA. Look, sister, how Aeneas' little son
Plays with your garments and embraceth you.
CUPID. No, Dido will not take me in her arms;
I shall not be her son, she loves me not.
DIDO. Weep not, sweet boy; thou shalt be Dido's son.
Sit in my lap, and let me hear thee sing.
No more, my child. Now talk another while,
And tell me where learned'st thou this pretty song.
CUPID.