In all this coil, where have ye left the queen?
ASCANIUS. Nay, where's my warlike father, can you tell?
ANNA. Behold where both of them come forth the cave.
IARBUS. Come forth the cave? Can heaven endure this sight?
Iarbas, curse that unrevenging Jove,
Whose flinty darts slept in Typhoeus' den,
While these adulterers surfeited with sin.
Nature, why mad'st me not some poisonous beast,
That with the sharpness of my edged sting
I might have staked them both unto the earth,
Whilst they were sporting in this darksome cave?
Enter Aeneas and Dido.
AENEAS. The air is clear and southern winds are whist.
Come, Dido, let us hasten to the town,
Since gloomy Aeolus doth cease to frown.
DIDO. Achates and Ascanius, well met.
AENEAS. Fair Anna, how escaped you from the shower?
ANNA. As others did, by running to the wood.
DIDO. But where were you, Iarbas, all this while?
IARBUS. Not with Aeneas in the ugly cave.
DIDO. I see Aeneas sticketh in your mind,
But I will soon put by that stumbling block
And quell those hopes that thus employ your cares.
ACT FOUR, SCENE TWO
Enter Iarbas, to sacrifice.
IARBUS. Come servants, come; bring forth the sacrifice,
That I may pacify that gloomy Jove,
Whose empty altars have enlarged our ills.
Servants bring in the sacrifice, then exeunt.
Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,
Father of gladness and all frolic thoughts,
That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven
When airy creatures war amongst themselves,
Hear, hear, O hear Iarbas' plaining prayers,
Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl
And all the woods 'Eliza' to resound!
The woman that thou willed us entertain,
Where, straying in our borders up and down,
She craved a hide of ground to build a town,
With whom we did divide both laws and land,
And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth,
Scorning our loves and royal marriage rites,
Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed,
Who, having wrought her shame, is straightway fled.
Now, if thou beest a pitying god of power,
On whom ruth and compassion ever waits,
Redress these wrongs and warn him to his ships,
That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.
ANNA. How now, Iarbas! At your prayers so hard?
IARBUS. Ay, Anna. Is there aught you would with me?
ANNA. Nay, no such weighty business of import
But may be slacked until another time.
Yet, if you would partake with me the cause
Of this devotion that detaineth you,
I would be thankful for such courtesy.
IARBUS. Anna, against this Trojan do I pray,
Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love
And dive into her heart by coloured looks.
ANNA. Alas, poor king, that labours so in vain
For her that so delighteth in thy pain.
Be ruled by me and seek some other love,
Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief.
IARBUS. Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start.
O leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts
That register the numbers of my ruth,
And I will either move the thoughtless flint
Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears,
Before my sorrow's tide have any stint.
ANNA. I will not leave Iarbas, whom I love,
In this delight of dying pensiveness.
Away with Dido! Anna be thy song,
Anna, that doth admire thee more than heaven.
IARBUS. I may nor will list to such loathsome change
That intercepts the course of my desire.
Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here,
For I will fly from these alluring eyes
That do pursue my peace where'er it goes.
ANNA. Iarbas, stay! Loving Iarbas, stay,
For I have honey to present thee with.
Hard-hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak?
I'll follow thee with outcries ne'ertheless
And strew thy walks with my dishevelled hair.