Exit a Lord.
What if I sink his ships? O, he'll frown.
Better he frown than I should die for grief.
I cannot see him frown; it may not be.
Armies of foes resolved to win this town,
Or impious traitors vowed to have my life,
Affright me not; only Aeneas' frown
Is that which terrifies poor Dido's heart.
Not bloody spears, appearing in the air,
Presage the downfall of my empery,
Nor blazing comets threaten Dido's death;
It is Aeneas' frown that ends my days.
If he forsake me not, I never die,
For in his looks I see eternity,
And he'll make me immortal with a kiss.
Enter a Lord, with Attendants
carrying tackling etc.
LORD. Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius,
And here's Aeneas' tackling, oars, and sails.
DIDO. Are these the sails that, in despite of me,
Packed with the winds to bear Aeneas hence?
I'll hang ye in the chamber where I lie;
Drive if you can my house to Italy.
I'll set the casement open, that the winds
May enter in and once again conspire
Against the life of me, poor Carthage queen.
But though ye go he stays in Carthage still;
And let rich Carthage fleet upon the seas,
So I may have Aeneas in mine arms.
Is this the wood that grew in Carthage plains,
And would be toiling in the wat'ry billows
To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest?
O cursed tree, hadst thou but wit or sense
To measure how I prize Aeneas' love,
Thou wouldst have leaped from out the sailors' hands.
And told me that Aeneas meant to go.
And yet I blame thee not; thou art but wood.
The water, which our poets term a nymph,
Why did it suffer thee to touch her breast
And shrunk not back, knowing my love was there?
The water is an element, no nymph,
Why should I blame Aeneas for his flight?
O Dido, blame not him, but break his oars.
These were the instruments that launched him forth.
There's not so much as this base tackling too,
But dares to heap up sorrow to my heart.
Was it not you that hoisted up these sails?
Why burst you not, and they fell in the seas?
For this will Dido tie ye full of knots
And shear ye all asunder with her hands.
Now serve to chastise shipboys for their faults;
Ye shall no more offend the Carthage queen.
Now let him hang my favours on his masts
And see if those will serve instead of sails.
For tackling, let him take the chains of gold
Which I bestowed upon his followers.
Instead of oars, let him use his hands
And swim to Italy. I'll keep these sure.
Come, bear them in.
Exeunt.
ACT FOUR, SCENE FIVE
Enter the nurse with Cupid for Ascanius.
NURSE. My lord Ascanius, ye must go with me.
CUPID. Whither must I go? I'll stay with my mother.
NURSE. No, thou shalt go with me unto my house.
I have an orchard that hath store of plums,
Brown almonds, cerises, ripe figs, and dates,
Dewberries, apples, yellow oranges,
A garden where are beehives full of honey,
Musk roses, and a thousand sort of flowers;
And in the midst doth run a silver stream,
Where thou shalt see the red-gilled fishes leap,
White swans, and many lovely waterfowl.
Now speak, Ascanius, will ye go or no?
CUPID. Come, come, I'll go. How far hence is your house?
NURSE. But hereby, child. We shall get thither straight.
CUPID. Nurse, I am weary; will you carry me?
NURSE. Ay, so you'll dwell with me and call me mother.
CUPID. So you'll love me, I care not if I do.
NURSE. That I might live to see this boy a man!
How prettily he laughs. Go, you wag!
You'll be a twigger when you come to age.
Say Dido what she will, I am not old.
I'll be no more a widow. I am young;
I'll have a husband, or else a lover.
CUPID.