The Works of Virgil (Dryden)/Aeneid/Book IV

by Virgil

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The Fourth Book of the

ÆNEIS.

 

The ARGUMENT.

Dido discovers to her Sister her Passion for Æneas, and her thoughts of Marrying him. She prepares a Hunting-Match for his Entertainment. Juno by Venus's consent raises a Storm, which separates the Hunters, and drives Æneas and Dido into the same Cave, where their Marriage is suppos'd to be compleated. Jupiter dispatches Mercury to Æneas, to warn him from Carthage; Æneas secretly prepares for his Voyage: Dido finds out his Design, and to put a stop to it, makes use of her own, and her Sister's Entreaties, and discovers all the variety of Passions that are incident to a neglected Lover: When nothing wou'd prevail upon him, she contrives her own Death, with which this Boook concludes.

 

ut anxious Cares already seiz'd the Queen:
She fed within her Veins a Flame unseen:
The Heroe's Valour, Acts, and Birth inspire
Her Soul with Love, and fann the secret Fire.

Plate 49: Illustration of Aeneis 4, line 2

His Words, his Looks imprinted in her Heart, 5
Improve the Passion, and increase the Smart.
Now, when the Purple Morn had chas'd away
The dewy Shadows, and restor'd the Day;
Her Sister first, with early Care she sought,
And thus in mournful Accents eas'd her Thought. 10
My dearest Anna, what new Dreams affright
My lab'ring Soul; what Visions of the Night
Disturb my Quiet, and distract my Breast,
With strange Ideas of our Trojan Guest?
His Worth, his Actions, and Majestick Air, 15
A Man descended from the Gods declare:
Fear ever argues a degenerate kind,
His Birth is well asserted by his Mind.
Then what he suffer'd, when by Fate betray'd,
What brave Attempts for falling Troy he made! 20
Such were his Looks, so gracefully he spoke,
That were I not resolv'd against the Yoke
Of hapless Marriage; never to be curs'd
With second Love, so fatal was my first;
To this one Error I might yield again: 25
For since Sichæus was untimely slain,
This only Man, is able to subvert
The fix'd Foundations of my stubborn Heart.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$And to confess my Frailty, to my shame,
Somewhat I find within, is not the same, 30
Too like the Sparkles of my former flame.
But first let yawning Earth a Passage rend;
And let me through the dark Abyss descend;
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$First let avenging Jove, with Flames from high,
Drive down this Body, to the neather Sky, 35
Condemn'd with Ghosts in endless Night to lye,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Before I break the plighted Faith I gave;
No; he who had my Vows, shall ever have;
For whom I lov'd on Earth, I worship in the Grave.
She said; the Tears ran gushing from her Eyes, 40
And stop'd her Speech: her Sister thus replies.
O dearer than the vital Air I breath,
Will you to Grief your blooming Years bequeath?
Condemn'd to waste in Woes your lonely Life,
Without the Joys of Mother, or of Wife. 45
Think you these Tears, this pompous Train of Woe,
Are known, or valu'd by the Ghosts below?
I grant, that while your Sorrows yet were green,
It well became a Woman, and a Queen,
The Vows of Tyrian Princes to neglect, 50
To scorn Hyarbas, and his Love reject;
With all the Lybian Lords of mighty Name;
But will you fight again't a pleasing Flame!
This little Spot of Land, which Heav'n bestows,
On ev'ry side is hemm'd with warlike Foes: 55
Getulian Cities here are spread around;
And fierce Numidians there your Frontiers bound;
Here lies a barren Waste of thirsly Land,
And there the Syrtes raise the moving Sand:

Plate 50: Illustration of Aeneis 4, line 80

Barcæan Troops besiege the narrow Shore; 60
And from the Sea Pigmalion threatens more.
Propitious Heav'n, and gracious Juno, lead
This wand'ring Navy to your needful Aid:
How will your Empire spread, your City rise
From such an Union, and with such Allies! 65
Implore the Favour of the Pow'rs above;
And leave the Conduct of the rest to Love.
Continue still your hospitable way,
And still invent occasions of their stay;
Till Storms, and Winter Winds, shall cease to threat,
And Planks and Oars, repair their shatter'd Fleet. 71
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$These Words, which from a Friend, and Sister came,
With ease resolv'd the Scruples of her Fame;
And added Fury to the kindled Flame.
Inspir'd with Hope, the Project they pursue; 75
On ev'ry Altar Sacrifice renew;
A chosen Ewe of two Years old they pay day
To Ceres Bacchus, and the God of Day:
Preferring Juno's Pow'r: For Juno ties
The Nuptial Knot, and makes the Marriage Joys. 80
The beauteous Queen before her Altar stands,
And holds the Golden Goblet in her Hands:
A milk-white Heifer she with Flow'rs adorns,
And pours the ruddy Wine betwixt her Horns;
And while the Priests with Pray'r the Gods invoke, 85
She feeds their Altars with Sabæan Smoke.
With hourly Care the Sacrifice renews,
And anxiously the panting Entrails views.
What Priestly Rites, alas! what Pious Art,
What Vows avail to cure a bleeding Heart! 90
A gentle Fire she feeds within her Veins;
Where the soft God secure in silence reigns.
Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves,
From Street to Street, the raving Dido roves.
So when the watchful Shepherd, from the Blind, 95
Wounds with a random Shaft the careless Hind;
Distracted with her pain she flies the Woods,
Bounds o'er the Lawn, and seeks the silent Floods;
With fruitless Care; for still the fatal Dart
Sticks in her side; and rankles in her Heart. 100
And now she leads the Trojan Chief, along
The lofty Walls, amidst the busie Throng;
Displays her Tyrian Wealth, and rising Town,
Which Love, without his Labour, makes his own.
This Pomp she shows to tempt her wandring Guest;
Her falt'ring Tongue forbids to speak the rest. 106
When Day declines, and Feasts renew the Night,
Still on his Face she feeds her famish'd sight;
She longs again to hear the Prince relate
His own Adventures, and the Trojan Fate: 110
He tells it o'er and o'er; but still in vain;
For still she begs to hear it, once again.
The Hearer on the Speaker's Mouth depends;
And thus the Tragick Story never ends.
Then, when they part, when Phœbe's paler Light
Withdraws, and falling Stars to Sleep invite, 116
She last remains, when ev'ry Guest is gone,
Sits on the Bed he press'd, and sighs alone;
Absent, her absent Heroe sees and hears;
Or in her Bosom young Ascanius bears: 120
And seeks the Father's Image in the Child,
If Love by Likeness might be so beguil'd.
Mean time the rising Tow'rs are at a stand:
No Labours exercise the youthful Band:
Nor use of Arts, nor Toils of Arms they know; 125
The Mole is left unfinish'd to the Foe.
The Mounds, the Works, the Walls, neglected lye,
Short of their promis'd heigth that seem'd to threat the Sky.
But when Imperial Juno, from above,
Saw Dido fetter'd in the Chains of Love; 130
Hot with the Venom, which her Veins inflam'd,
And by no sense of Shame to be reclaim'd:
With soothing Words to Venus she begun.
High Praises, endless Honours you have won,
And mighty Trophies with your worthy Son: 135
Two Gods a silly Woman have undone.
Nor am I ignorant, you both suspect
This rising City, which my Hands erect:
But shall Cœlestial Discord never cease?
Tis better ended in a lasting Peace. 140
You stand possess'd of all your Soul desir'd;
Poor Dido with consuming Love is fir'd:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join,
So Dido shall be yours, Æneas mine:
One common Kingdom, one united Line. 145
Eliza shall a Dardan Lord obey,
And lofty Carthage for a Dow'r convey.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Then Venus, who her hidden Fraud descry'd,
(Which wou'd the Scepter of the World misguide
To Lybian Shores,) thus artfully reply'd: 150
Who but a Fool, wou'd Wars with Juno chuse,
And such Alliance, and such Gifts refuse?
If Fortune with our joint Desires comply:
The Doubt is all from Jove, and Destiny.
Lest he forbid, with absolute Command, 155
To mix the People in one common Land.
Or will the Trojan, and the Tyrian Line,
In lasting Leagues, and sure Succession join?
But you, the Partner of his Bed and Throne,
May move his Mind; my Wishes are your own. 160
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Mine, said Imperial Juno, be the Care;
Time urges, now, to perfect this Affair:
Attend my Counsel, and the Secret share.
When next the Sun his rising Light displays,
And guilds the World below, with Purple Rays; 165
The Queen, Æneas, and the Tyrian Court,
Shall to the shady Woods, for Silvan Game, resort.
There, while the Huntsmen pitch their Toils around,
And cheerful Horns, from Side to Side, resound;
A Pitchy Cloud shall cover all the Plain 170
With Hail, and Thunder, and tempestuous Rain:
The fearful Train shall take their speedy Flight,
Dispers'd, and all involv'd in gloomy Night:
One Cave a grateful Shelter shall afford
To the fair Princess and the Trojan Lord. 175
I will my self, the bridal Bed prepare,
If you, to bless the Nuptials, will be there:
So shall their Loves be crown'd with due Delights,
And Hymen shall be present at the Rites.
The Queen of Love consents, and closely smiles 180
At her vain Project, and discover'd Wiles.
The rosy Morn was risen from the Main,
And Horns and Hounds awake the Princely Train:
They issue early through the City Gate,
Where the more wakeful Huntsmen ready wait, 185
With Nets, and Toils, and Darts, beside the force
Of Spartan Dogs, and swift Massylian Horse.
The Tyrian Peers, and Officers of States
For the slow Queen, in Anti-Chambers wait:
Her lofty Courser, in the Court below, 190
(Who his Majestick Rider seems to know,)
Proud of his Purple Trappings, paws the Ground;
And champs the Golden Bitt; and spreads the Foam around.
The Queen at length appears: On either Hand
The brawny Guards in Martial order stand. 195
A flower'd Cymarr, with Golden Fringe she wore;
And at her Back a Golden Quiver bore:
Her flowing Hair, a Golden Caul restrains;
A golden Clasp, the Tyrian Robe sustains,
Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly Grace, 200
Leads on the Trojan Youth to view the Chace.
But far above the rest in beauty shines
The great Æneas, when the Troop he joins:
Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the frost
Of wintry Xanthus, and the Lycian Coast; 205
When to his Native Delos he resorts,
Ordains the Dances, and renews the Sports:
Where painted Scythians, mix'd with Cretin Bands,
Before the joyful Altars join their Hands.
Himself, on Cynthus walking, sees below 210
The merry Madness of the sacred Show.
Green Wreaths of Bays his length of Hair inclose,
A Golden Fillet binds his awful brows:
His Quiver sounds: Not less the Prince is seen
In manly Presence, or in lofty Meen. 215
Now had they reach'd the Hills, and storm'd the Seat
Of salvage Beasts, in Dens, their last Retreat;
The Cry pursues the Mountain-Goats; they bound
From Rock to Rock, and keep the craggy Ground:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Quite otherwise the Stags, a trembling Train, 220
In Herds unsingl'd, scour the dusty Plain;
And a long Chace, in open view, maintain.
The glad Ascanius, as his Courser guides,
Spurs through the Vale; and these and those outrides.

Plate 51: Illustration of Aeneis 4, line 220

His Horses flanks and sides are forc'd to feel 225
The clanking lash, and goring of the Steel.
Impatiently he views the feeble Prey,
Wishing some Nobler Beast to cross his way.
And rather wou'd the tusky Boar attend,
Or see the tawny Lyon downward bend. 230
Mean time, the gath'ring Clouds obscure the Skies;
From Pole to Pole the forky Lightning flies;
The ratling Thunders rowl; and Juno pours
A wintry Deluge down, and sounding Show'rs.
The Company dispers'd, to Coverts ride, 235
And seek the homely Cotts, or Mountains hollow side.
The rapid Rains, descending from the Hills,
To rowling Torrents raise the creeping Rills.
The Queen and Prince, as Love or Fortune guides,
One common Cavern in her Bosom hides. 240
Then first the trembling Earth the signal gave;
And flashing Fires enlighten all the Cave:
Hell from below, and Juno from above,
And howling Nymphs, were conscious to their Love.
From this ill Omen'd Hour, in Time arose 245
Debate and Death, and all succeeding Woes.
The Queen, whom sense of Honour cou'd not move,
No longer made a Secret of her Love;
But call'd it Marriage, by that specious Name,
To veil the Crime, and sanctifie the Shame. 220
The loud Report through Lybian Cities goes;
Fame, the great Ill, from small beginnings grows.
Swift from the first; and ev'ry Moment brings
New Vigour to her flights, new Pinions to her wings.
Soon grows the Pygmee to Gygantic size; 255
Her Feet on Earth, her Forehead in the Skies:
Inrag'd against the Gods, revengeful Earth
Produc'd her last of the Titanian birth.
Swift is her walk, more swift her winged hast:
A monstrous Fantom, horrible and vast; 260
As many Plumes as raise her lofty flight,
So many piercing Eyes inlarge her sight:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Millions of opening Mouths to Fame belong;
And ev'ry Mouth is furnish'd with a Tongue:
And round with listning Ears the flying Plague is hung.
She fills the peaceful Universe with Cries; 266
No Slumbers ever close her wakeful Eyes.
By Day from lofty Tow'rs her Head she shews;
And spreads through trembling Crowds disastrous News.
With Court Informers haunts, and Royal Spyes, 270
Things done relates, not done the feigns; and mingles Truth with Lyes.
Talk is her business; and her chief delight
To tell of Prodigies, and cause affright.
She fills the Peoples Ears with Dido's Name;
Who, lost to Honour, and the sense of Shame, 275
Admits into her Throne and Nuptial Bed
A wandring Guest, who from his Country fled:
Whole days with him she passes in delights;
And wastes in Luxury long Winter Nights.
Forgetful of her Fame, and Royal Trust; 280
Dissolv'd in Ease, abandon'd to her Lust.
The Goddess wisely spreads the loud Report;
Aud flies at length to King Hyarba's Court.
When first possess'd with this unwelcome News,
Whom did he not of Men and Gods accuse! 285
This Prince, from ravish'd Garamantis born,
A hundred Temples did with Spoils adorn,
In Ammon's Honour, his Cœleftial Sire;
A hundred Altars fed, with wakeful Fire;
And thro' his vast Dominions, Priests ordain'd, 290
Whose watchful Care these holy Rites maintain'd.
The Gates and Columns were with Garlands crown'd,
And Blood of Victim Beasts enrich the Ground.
He, when he heard a Fugitive cou'd move
The Tyrian Princess, who disdain'd his Love, 295
His Breast with Fury burn'd, his Eyes with Fire;
Mad with Despair, impatient with Desire.
Then on the Sacred Altars pouring Wine,
He thus with Pray'rs implor'd his Sire divine.
Great Jove, propitious to the Moorish Race, 300
Who feast on painted Beds, with Off'rings grace
Thy Temples, and adore thy Pow'r Divine
With Blood of Victims, and with sparkling Wine:
Seest thou not this? or do we fear in vain
Thy boasted Thunder, and thy thoughtless Reign?
Do thy broad Hands the forky Lightnings lance, 306
Thine are the Bolts, or the blind work of Chance?
A wandring Woman builds, within our State,
A little Town, bought at an easie Rate;
She pays me Homage, and my Grants allow, 310
A narrow space of Lybian Lands to plough.
Yet scorning me, by Passion blindly led,
Admits a banish'd Trojan to her Bed:
And now this other Paris, with his Train
Of conquer'd Cowards, must in Affrick reign! 315
(Whom, what they are, their Looks and Garb confess;
Their Locks with Oil perfum'd, their Lydian dress:)
He takes the Spoil, enjoys the Princely Dame;
And I, rejected I, adore an empty Name.
His Vows, in haughty Terms, he thus preferr'd, 320
And held his Altar's Horns; the mighty Thund'rer heard,
Then cast his Eyes on Carthage, where he found,
The lustful Pair, in lawless pleasure drown'd.
Lost in their Loves, insensible of Shame;
And both forgetful of their better Fame. 325
He calls Cyllenius; and the God attends;
By whom his menacing Command he sends.
Go, mount the Western Winds, and cleave the Skie;
Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly:
There find the Trojan Chief, who wastes his Days 330
In sloathful Riot, and inglorious Ease.
Nor minds the future City, giv'n by Fate;
To him this Message from my Mouth relate.
Not so, fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won
Thy Life with Pray'rs; nor promis'd such a Son. 335
Hers was a Heroe, destin'd to command
A Martial Race; and rule the Latian Land.
Who shou'd his ancient Line from Teucer draw;
And, on the conquer'd World, impose the Law.
If Glory cannot move a Mind so mean, 340
Nor future Praise, from fading Pleasure wean,
Yet why thou'd he defraud his Son of Fame;
And grudge the Romans their Immortal Name!
What are his vain Designs! what hopes he more,
From his long ling'ring on a hostile Shore? 345
Regardless to redeem his Honour lost,
And for his Race to gain th' Ausonian Coast!
Bid him with speed the Tyrian Court forsake;
With this Command the slumb'ring Warrior wake.
Hermes obeys; with Golden Pinions binds 350
His flying Feet, and mounts the Western Winds:
And whether o'er the Seas or Earth he flies,
With rapid Force, they bear him down the Skies.
But first he grasps within his awful Hand,
The mark of Sov'raign Pow'r, his Magick Wand: 355
With this, he draws the Ghosts from hollow Graves,
With this he drives them down the Stygian Waves;
With this he seals in Sleep, the wakeful sight;
And Eyes, tho' clos'd in Death, restores to Light.
Thus arm'd, the God begins his Airy Race; 360
And drives the racking Clouds along the liquid Space.
Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies;
Whose brawny Back supports the Starry Skies:
Atlas, whofe Head with Piny Forests crown'd, 364
Is beaten by the Winds; with foggy Vapours bound.
Snows hide his Shoulders; from beneath his Chin
The Founts of Rolling Streams their Race begin:
A beard of Ice on his large Breast depends:
Here pois'd upon his Wings, the God descends:
Then, rested thus, he from the tow'ring height 370
Plung'd downward, with precipitated Flight:
Light on the Seas, and skims along the Flood:
As Water-fowl, who seek their fishy Food,
Less, and yet less, to distant Prospect show,
By turns they dance aloft, and dive below: 375
Like these, the steerage of his Wings he plies;
And near the surface of the Water flies.
Till having pass'd the Seas, and cross'd the Sands,
He clos'd his Wings, and stoop'd on Lybian Lands: 379
Where Shepherds once were hous'd in homely sheds,
Now Tow'rs within the Clouds, advance their Heads.
Arriving there, he found the Trojan Prince,
New Ramparts raising for the Town's defence:
A Purple Scarf, with Gold Imbroider'd o'er,
(Queen Dido's Gift) about his Waste he wore; 385
A Sword with glitt'ring Gems diversify'd,
For Ornament, not Use, hung idly by his side.
Then thus, with winged Words, the God began;
(Resuming his own Shape) Degenerate Man,
Thou Woman's Property, what mak'st thou here, 390
These foreign Walls, and Tyrian Tow'rs to rear?
Forgetful of thy own? All pow'rful Jove,
Who sways the World below, and Heav'n above,
Has sent me down, with this severe Command:
What means thy ling'ring in the Lybian Land? 395
If Glory cannot move a Mind so mean,
Nor future Praise, from flitting Pleasure wean,
Regard the Fortunes of thy rising Heir;
The promis'd Crown let young Ascanius wear.
To whom th' Ausonian Scepter, and the State 400
Of Rome's Imperial Name, is ow'd by Fate.
So spoke the God; and speaking took his flight,
Involv'd in Clouds; and vanish'd out of sight.
The Pious Prince was seiz'd with sudden Fear;
Mute was his Tongue, and upright stood his Hair:
Revolving in his Mind the stern Command, 406
He longs to fly, and loaths the charming Land.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$What shou'd he say, or how shou'd he begin,
What Course, alas! remains, to steer between
Th' offended Lover, and the Pow'rful Queen! 410
This way, and that, he turns his anxious Mind,
And all Expedients tries, and none can find:
Fix'd on the Deed, but doubtful of the Means;
After long thought to this Advice he leans.
Three Chiefs he calls, commands them to repair 415
The Fleet, and ship their Men with silent Care:
Some plausible Pretence he bids them find,
To colour what in secret he design'd.
Himself, mean time, the softest Hours wou'd chuse,
Before the Love-sick Lady heard the News. 420
And move her tender Mind, by slow degrees,
To suffer what the Sov'raign Pow'r decrees:
Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say:
They hear with Pleasure, and with haste obey.
But soon the Queen perceives the thin Disguise;
(What Arts can blind a jealous Woman's Eyes!) 426
She was the first to find the secret Fraud,
Before the fatal News was blaz'd abroad.
Love, the first Motions of the Lover hears,
Quick to presage, and ev'n in Safety fears. 430
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Nor impious Fame was wanting to report
The Ships repair'd; the Trojans thick Resort,
And Purpose to forsake the Tyrian Court.
Frantick with Fear, impatient of the Wound,
And impotent of Mind, the roves the City round. 435
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Less wild the Bacchanalian Dames appear,
When, from afar, their nightly God they hear,
And houl about the Hills, and shake the wreathy Spear.
At length she finds the dear perfidious Man;
Prevents his form'd Excuse, and thus began. 440
Base and ungrateful, cou'd you hope to fly,
And undiscover'd scape a Lover's Eye!
Nor cou'd my Kindness your Compassion move,
Nor plighted Vows, nor dearer bands of Love!
Or is the Death of a despairing Queen 445
Not worth preventing, though too well foreseen?
Ev'n when the Wint'ry Winds command your stay,
You dare the Tempests, and defie the Sea.
False, as you are, suppose you were not bound
To Lands unknown, and foreign Coats to sound; 450
Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy Reign,
Now durst you tempt for Troy, the raging Main?
See, whom you fly; am I the Foe you shun?
Now by those holy Vows, so late begun,
By this right Hand, (since I have nothing more 455
To challenge, but the Faith you gave before;)
I beg you by these Tears too truly shed,
By the new Pleasures of our Nuptial Bed;
If ever Dido, when you most were kind, 459
Were pleasing in your Eyes, or touch'd your Mind;
By these my Pray'rs, if Pray'rs may yet have Place,
Pity the Fortunes of a falling Race.
For you I have provok'd a Tyrant's Hate,
Incens'd the Lybian, and the Tyrian State;
For you alone I suffer in my Fame; 465
Bereft of Honour, and expos'd to Shame:
Whom have I now to trust, (ungrateful Guest,)
That only Name remains of all the rest!
What have I left, or whither can I fly;
Must I attend Pigmalion's Cruelty! 470
Or till Hyarba shall in Triumph lead
A Queen, that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd Bed!
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Had you deferr'd, at least, your hasty Flight,
And left behind some Pledge of our delight, 474
Some Babe to bless the Mother's mournful sight;
Some young Æneas, to supply your place;
Whose Features might express his Father's Face;
I should not then complain to live bereft
Of all my Husband, or be wholly left. 479
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Here paus'd the Queen; unmov'd he holds his Eyes,
By Jove's Command; nor suffer'd Love to rise,
Tho' heaving in his Heart; and thus at length, replies.
Fair Queen, you never can enough repeat
Your boundless Favours, or I own my Debt;
Nor can my Mind forget Eliza's Name, 485
While vital Breath inspires this Mortal Frame.
This, only let me speak in my Defence,
I never hop'd a secret Flight from hence:
Much less pretended to the Lawful Claim
Of Sacred Nuptials, or a Husband's Name. 490
For if indulgent Heav'n would leave me free,
And not submit my Life to Fate's Decree,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$My Choice would lead me to the Trojan Shore,
Those Reliques to review, their Dust adore;
And Priam's ruin'd Palace to restore. 495
But now the Delphian Oracle Commands,
And Fate invites me to the Latian Lands.
That is the promis'd Place to which I steer,
And all my Vows are terminated there.
If you, a Tyrian, and a Stranger born, 500
With Walls and Tow'rs a Lybian Town adorn;
Why may not we, like you, a Foreign Race,
Like you seek shelter in a Foreign Place?
As often as the Night obscures the Skies
With humid Shades, or twinkling Stars arise, 505
Anchises angry Ghost in Dreams appears;
Chides my delay, and fills my Soul with fears:
And young Ascanius justly may complain,
Of his defrauded Fate, and destin'd Reign.
Ev'n now the Herald of the Gods appear'd, 510
Waking I saw him, and his Message heard.
From Jove he came commission'd, Heav'nly bright
With Radiant Beams, and manifest to Sight.
The Sender and the Sent, I both attest,
These Walls he enter'd, and those Words express'd.
Fair Queen, oppose not what the Gods command; 516
Forc'd by my Fate, I leave your happy Land.
Thus, while he spoke, already She began,
With sparkling Eyes, to view the guilty Man:
From Head to Foot survey'd his Person o'er, 520
Nor longer these outrageous Threats forbore.
False as thou art, and more than false, forsworn;
Not sprung from Noble Blood, nor Goddess-born,
But hewn from hardned Entrails of a Rock;
And rough Hyrcanian Tygers gave thee suck. 525
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Why shou'd I fawn, what have I worse to fear?
Did he once look, or lent a list'ning Ear;
Sigh'd when I sob'd, or shed one kindly Tear?
All Symptoms of a base Ungrateful Mind,
So foul, that which is worse, tis hard to find. 530
Of Man's Injustice, why shou'd I complain?
The Gods, and Jove himself behold in vain
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Triumphant Treason, yet no Thunder flies:
Nor Juno views my Wrongs with equal Eyes;
Faithless is Earth, and faithless are the Skies! 535
Justice is fled, and Truth is now no more;
I sav'd the Shipwrack'd Exile on my Shore:
With needful Food his hungry Trojans fed;
I took the Traitor to my Throne and Bed:
Fool that I was———tis little to repeat 540
The rest, I stor'd and Rigg'd his ruin'd Fleet.
I rave, I rave: A God's Command he pleads,
And makes Heav'n accessary to his Deeds.
Now Lycian Lotts, and now the Delian God;
Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode, 545
To warn him hence; as if the peaceful State
Of Heav'nly Pow'rs were touch'd with Human Fate!
But go; thy flight no longer I detain;
Go seek thy promis'd Kingdom through the Main:
Yet if the Heav'ns will hear my Pious Vow, 550
The faithless Waves, not half so false as thou,
Or secret Sands, shall Sepulchers afford
To thy proud Vessels, and their perjur'd Lord.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Then shalt thou call on injur'd Dido's Name;
Dido shall come, in a black Sulph'ry flame; 555
When Death has once dissolv'd her Mortal frame.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Shall smile to see the Traitor vainly weep,
Her angry Ghost arising from the Deep,
Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy Sleep.
At least my Shade thy Punishment shall know; 560
And Fame shall spread the pleasing News below.
Abruptly here she stops: Then turns away
Her loathing Eyes, and shuns the sight of Day.
Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his Mind
What Speech to frame, and what Excuse to find. 565
Her fearful Maids their fainting Mistress led;
And softly laid her on her Iv'ry Bed.
But good Æneas, tho' he much desir'd
To give that Pity, which her Grief requir'd, 569
Tho' much he mourn'd, and labour'd with his Love,
Resolv'd at length, obeys the Will of Jove:
Reviews his Forces; they with early Care
Unmoor their Vessels, and for Sea prepare.
The Fleet is soon afloat, in all its Pride:
And well calk'd Gallies in the Harbour ride. 575
Then Oaks for Oars they fell'd; or as they stood,
Of its green Arms despoil'd the growing Wood.
Studious of Flight: The Beach is cover'd o're
With Trojan Bands that blacken all the Shore:
On ev'ry side are seen, descending down, 580
Thick swarms of Souldiers loaden from the Town.
Thus, in Battalia, march embody'd Ants,
Fearful of Winter, and of future Wants,
T'invade the Corn, and to their Cells convey
The plunder'd Forage of their yellow Prey, 585
The sable Troops, along the narrow Tracks,
Scarce bear the weighty Burthen on their Backs:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Some set their Shoulders to the pond'rous Grain;
Some guard the Spoil, some lash the lagging Train;
All ply their sev'ral Tasks, and equal Toil sustain.
What Pangs the tender Breast of Dido tore, 591
When, from the Tow'r, she saw the cover'd Shore,
And heard the Shouts of Sailors from afar,
Mix'd with the Murmurs of the wat'ry War?
All pow'rful Love, what Changes canst thou cause 595
In Human Hearts, subjected to thy Laws!
Once more her haughty Soul the Tyrant bends;
To Pray'rs and mean Submissions she descends.
No female Arts or Aids she left untry'd,
Nor Counsels unexplor'd, before she dy'd. 600
Look, Anna, look; the Trojans crowd to Sea,
They spread their Canvass, and their Anchors weigh.
The shouting Crew, their Ships with Garlands bind;
Invoke the Sea-Gods, and invite the Wind.
Cou'd I have thought this threatning Blow so near,
My tender Soul had been forewarn'd to bear. 606
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$But do not you my last Request deny,
With yon perfidious Man your Int'rest try;
And bring me News, if I must live or die.
You are his Fav'rite, you alone can find 610
The dark recesses of his inmost Mind:
In all his trusted Secrets you have part,
And know the soft Approaches to his Heart.
Haste then, and humbly seek my haughty Foe;
Tell him, I did not with the Grecians go; 615
Nor did my Fleet against his Friends employ,
Nor swore the Ruin of unhappy Troy.
Nor mov'd with Hands prophane his Father's Dust;
Why should he then reject a suit so just!
Whom does shun, and wither would he fly; 620
Can he this last, this only Pray'r deny!
Let him at least his dang'rous Flight delay,
Wait better Winds, and hope a calmer Sea.
The Nuptials he disclaims I urge no more;
Let him pursue the promis'd Latian Shore. 625
A short delay is all I ask him now,
A pause of Grief; an interval from Woe:
Till my soft Soul be temper'd to sustain
Accustom'd Sorrows, and inur'd to Pain.
If you in Pity grant this one Reqnest, 630
My Death shall glut the Hatred of his Breast.
This mournful message, Pious Anna bears,
And seconds, with her own, her Sister's Tears:
But all her Arts are still employ'd in vain;
Again she comes, and is refus'd again. 635
His harden'd Heart nor Pray'rs nor Threatnings move;
Fate, and the God, had stop'd his Ears to Love.
As when the Winds their airy Quarrel try;
Justling from ev'ry quarter of the Sky,
This way and that, the Mountain Oak they bend, 640
His Boughs they shatter, and his Branches rend;
With Leaves, and falling Mast, they spread the Ground,
The hollow Vallies eccho to the Sound:
Unmov'd, the Royal Plant their Fury mocks;
Or shaken, clings more closely to the Rocks: 645
Far as he shoots his tow'ring Head on high,
So deep in Earth his fix'd Foundations lie.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$No less a Storm the Trojan Heroe bears;
Thick Messages and loud Complaints he hears;
And bandy'd Words, still beating on his Ears. 650
Sighs, Groans and Tears, proclaim his inward Pains,
But the firm purpose of his Heart remains.
The wretched Queen, pursu'd by cruel Fate,
Begins at length the light of Heav'n to hate:
And loaths to live: Then dire Portents she sees, 655
To hasten on the Death her Soul decrees.
Strange to relate: For when before the Shrine
She pours, in Sacrifice, the Purple Wine,
The Purple Wine is turn'd to putrid Blood:
And the white offer'd Milk, converts to Mud. 660
This dire Presage, to her alone reveal'd,
From all, and ev'n her Sister, she conceal'd.
A Marble Temple stood within the Grove.
Sacred to Death, and to her murther'd Love;
That honour'd Chappel she had hung around 665
With snowy Fleeces, and with Garlands crown'd:
Oft, when she visited this lonely Dome,
Strange Voices issu'd from her Husband's Tomb:
She thought she heard him summon her away;
Invite her to his Grave; and chide her stay. 670
Hourly tis heard, when with a bodeing Note
The solitary Screech-Owl strains her Throat:
And on a Chimney's top, or Turret's height,
With Songs obscene, disturbs the Silence of the Night.
Besides, old Prophecies augment her Fears; 675
And stern Æneas in her Dreams appears,
Disdainful as by Day: She seems alone,
To wander in her Sleep, thro' ways unknown,
Guidless and dark: or, in a Desart Plain,
To seek her Subjects, and to seek in vain. 680
Like Pentheus, when distracted with his Fear,
He saw two Suns, and double Thebes appear:
Or mad Orestes, when his Mother's Ghost
Full in his Face, infernal Torches tost; 684
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$And shook her snaky locks: He shuns the sight,
Flies o'er the Stage, surpriz'd with mortal fright;
The Furies guard the Door; and intercept his flight.
Now, sinking underneath a load of Grief,
From Death alone, she seeks her last Relief:
The Time and Means, resolv'd within her Breast, 690
She to her mournful Sister, thus address'd.
(Dissembling hope, her cloudy front she clears,
And a false Vigour in her Eyes appears.)
Rejoice, she said, instructed from above,
My Lover I shall gain, or lose my Love. 695
Nigh rising Altas, next the falling Sun,
Long tracts of Æthiopian Climates run:
There, a Massylian Priestess I have found,
Honour'd for Age; for Magick Arts renown'd:
Th' Hesperian Temple was her trusted Care; 700
Twas she supply'd the wakeful Dragons Fare.
She Poppy-Seeds in Honey taught to steep;
Reclaim'd his Rage; and sooth'd him into sleep.
She watch'd the Golden Fruit; her Charms unbind
The Chains of Love; or fix them on the Mind. 705
She stops the Torrents, leaves the Channel dry;
Repels the Stars; and backward bears the Sky.
The yawning Earth rebellows to her Call;
Pale Ghosts ascend; and Mountain Ashes fall.
Witness, ye Gods, and thou my better part, 710
How loth I am to try this impious Art!
Within the secret Court, with silent Care,
Erect a lofty Pile, expos'd in Air:
Hang on the topmost part, the Trojan Vest;
Spoils, Arms, and Presents of my faithless Guest. 715
Next, under these, the Bridal Bed be plac'd,
Where I my Ruin in his Arms embrac'd:
All Relicks of the Wretch are doom'd to Fire;
For so the Priestess, and her Charms require.
Thus far she said, and farther Speech forbears: 720
A Mortal Paleness in her Face appears:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Yet, the mistrustless Anna, could not find
The secret Fun'ral, in these Rites design'd;
Nor thought so dire a Rage possess'd her Mind.
Unknowing of a Train conceal'd so well, 725
She fear'd no worse than when Sichæus fell:
Therefore obeys. The fatal Pile they rear,
Within the secret Court, expos'd in Air.
The cloven Holms and Pines are heap'd on high;
And Garlands on the hollow Spaces lye. 730
Sad Cypress, Vervain, Eugh, compose the Wreath;
And ev'ry baleful green denoting Death,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$The Queen, determin'd to the fatal Deed,
The Spoils and Sword he left, in order spread:
And the Man's Image on the Nuptial Bed. 735
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$And now (the sacred Altars plac'd around)
The Priestess enters, with her Hair unbound,
And thrice invokes the Pow'rs below the Ground.
Night, Erebus and Chaos she proclaims,
And threefold Hecat, with her hundred Names, 740
And three Diana's: next she sprinkles round,
With feign'd Avernian Drops, the hallow'd ground;
Culls hoary Simples, found by Phœbe's Light,
With brazen Sickles reap'd at Noon of Night.
Then mixes baleful Juices in the Bowl: 745
And cuts the Forehead of a new born Fole;
Robbing the Mother's love. The destin'd Queen
Observes, assisting at the Rites obscene:
A leaven'd Cake in her devoted Hands
She holds, and next the highest Altar stands: 750
One tender Foot was shod, her other bare;
Girt was her gather'd Gown, and loose her Hair.
Thus dress'd, she summon'd with her dying Breath,
The Heav'ns and Planets conscious of her Death:
And ev'ry Pow'r, if any rules above, 755
Who minds, or who revenges injur'd Love.
Twas dead of Night, when weary Bodies close
Their Eyes in balmy Sleep, and soft Repose:
The Winds no longer whisper through the Woods,
Nor murm'ring Tides disturb the gentle Floods. 760
The Stars in silent order mov'd around,
And Peace, with downy wings, was brooding on the ground.
The Flocks and Herds, and parti-colour'd Fowl,
Which haunt the Woods, or swim the weedy Pool;
Stretch'd on the quiet Earth securely lay, 765
Forgetting the past Labours of the day.
All else of Nature's common Gift partake;
Unhappy Dido was alone awake.
Nor Sleep nor Ease the Furious Queen can find,
Sleep fled her Eyes, as Quiet fled her Mind. 770
Despair, and Rage, and Love, divide her heart;
Despair, and Rage had some, but Love the greater part.
Then thus she said within her secret Mind:
What shall I do, what Succour can I find!
Become a Supplyant to Hyarba's Pride, 775
And take my turn, to Court and be deny'd!
Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go,
Forsake an Empire, and attend a Foe?
Himself I refug'd, and his Train reliev'd;
Tis true; but am I sure to be receiv'd? 780
Can Gratitude in Trojan Souls have place!
Laomedon still lives in all his Race!
Then, shall I seek alone the Churlish Crew,
Or with my Fleet their flying Sails pursue?
What force have I but those, whom scarce before 785
I drew reluctant from their Native Shore?
Will they again Embark at my Desire,
Once more sustain the Seas, and quit their second Tyre?
Rather with Steel thy guilty Breast invade,
And take the Fortune thou thy self haft made. 790
Your pity, Sister, first seduc'd my Mind;
Or seconded too well, what I design'd.
These dear-bought Pleasures had I never known,
Had I continu'd free, and still my own; 795
Avoiding Love; I had not found Despair:
But shar'd with Salvage Beasts the Common Air.
Like them a lonely life I might have led,
Not mourn'd the Living, nor disturb'd the Dead.
These Thoughts she brooded in her anxious Breast;
On board, the Trojan found more easie rest. 801
Resolv'd to sail, in Sleep he pass'd the Night;
And order'd all things for his early flight.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$To whom once more the winged God appears;
His former Youthful Meen and Shape he wears, 805
And with this new alarm invades his Ears.
Sleep'st thou, O Goddess born! and can'st thou drown
Thy needful Cares, so near a Hostile Town?
Beset with Foes; nor hear'st the Western Gales
Invite thy passage, and Inspire thy sails? 810
She harbours in her Heart a furious hate;
And thou shalt find the dire Effects too late;
Fix'd on Revenge, and Obstinate to die:
Haste swiftly hence, while thou hast pow'r to fly.
The Sea with Ships will soon be cover'd o're, 815
And blazing Firebrands kindle all the Shore.
Prevent her rage, while Night obscures the Skies;
And sail before the purple Morn arise.
Who knows what Hazards thy Delay may bring?
Woman's a various and a changeful Thing. 820
Thus Hermes in the Dream; then took his flight,
Aloft in Air unseen; and mix'd with Night.
Twice warn'd by the Cœlestial Messenger,
The Pious Prince arose with hasty fear:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Then rowz'd his drowsie Train without delay, 825
Haste to your banks; your crooked Anchors weigh;
And spread your flying Sails, and stand to Sea.
A God commands; he stood before my sight;
And urg'd us once again to speedy flight.
O sacred Pow'r, what Pow'r so e'er thou art, 830
To thy bless'd Orders I resign my heart:
Lead thou the way; protect thy Trojan Bands;
And prosper the Design thy Will commands.
He said, and drawing forth his flaming Sword, 834
His thund'ring Arm divides the many twisted Cord:
An emulating Zeal inspires his Train;
They run, they snatch; they rush into the main.
With headlong haste they leave the desert Shores,
And brush the liquid Seas with lab'ring Oars.
Aurora now had left her Saffron Bed, 840
And beams of early Light the Heav'ns o'erspread,
When from a Tow'r the Queen, with wakeful Eyes,
Saw Day point upward from the rosie Skies:
She look'd to Seaward, but the Sea was void,
And scarce in ken the sailing Ships descry'd: 845
Stung with despight, and furious with despair,
She struck her trembling Breast, and tore her Hair.
And shall th' ungrateful Traitor go, she said,
My Land forsaken, and my Love betray'd?
Shall we not Arm, not rush from ev'ry Street, 850
To follow, sink, and burn his perjur'd Fleet?
Haste, haul my Gallies out, pursue the Foe:
Bring flaming Brands, set sail, and swiftly row.
What have I said? where am I? Fury turns
My Brain; and my distemper'd Bosom burns. 855
Then, when I gave my Person and, my Throne,
This Hate, this Rage, had been more timely shown.
See now the promis'd Faith, the vaunted Name,
The Pious Man, who, rushing through the Flame,
Preserv'd his Gods; and to the Phrygian Shore 860
The Burthen of his feeble Father bore!
I shou'd have torn him piece-meal, strow'd in Floods
His scatter'd Limbs, or left expos'd in Woods:
Destroy'd his Friends and Son; and from the Fire
Have set the reeking Boy before the Sire. 865
Events are doubtful, which on Battels wait;
Yet where's the doubt, to Souls secure of Fate!
My Tyrians, at their injur'd Queen's Command,
Had toss'd their Fires amid the Trojan Band:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$At once extinguish'd all the faithless Name; 870
And I my self, in vengeance of my Shame,
Had fall'n upon the Pile to mend the Fun'ral Flame.
Thou Sun, who view'st at once the World below,
Thou Juno, Guardian of the Nuptial Vow,
Thou Hecat, hearken from thy dark abodes; 875
Ye Furies, Fiends, and violated Gods,
All Pow'rs invok'd with Dido's dying breath,
Attend her Curses, and avenge her Death.
If so the Fates ordain, and Jove commands,
Th' ungrateful Wretch should find the Latian Lands,
Yet let a Race untam'd, and haughty Foes, 880
His peaceful Entrance with dire Arms oppose;
Oppress'd with Numbers in th' unequal Field,
His Men discourag'd, and himself expell'd,
Let him for Succour sue from place to place, 885
Torn from his Subjects, and his Son's embrace:
First let him see his Friends in Battel slain;
And their untimely Fate lament in vain:
And when, at length, the cruel War shall cease;
On hard Conditions may he buy his Peace. 890
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Nor let him then enjoy supreme Command;
But fall untimely, by some hostile Hand:
And lie unbury'd on the barren Sand.
These are my Pray'rs, and this my dying Will:
And you my Tyrians ev'ry Curse fulfil. 895
Perpetual Hate, and mortal Wars proclaim,
Against the Prince, the People, and the Name.
These grateful Off'rings on my Grave bestow;
Nor League, nor Love, the Hostile Nations know:
Now, and from hence in ev'ry future Age,
When Rage excites your Arms, and Strength supplies the Rage:
Rife some Avenger of our Lybian Blood, 901
With Fire and Sword pursue the perjur'd Brood:
Our Arms, our Seas, our Shores, oppos'd to theirs,
And the same hate descend on all our Heirs. 905
This said, within her anxious Mind she weighs
The Means of cutting short her odious Days.
Then to Sicheus' Nurse, she briefly said,
(For when she left her Country, hers was dead)
Go Barce, call my Sister; let her Care 910
The solemn Rites of Sacrifice prepare:
The Sheep, and all th' attoneing Off'rings bring;
Springling her Body from the Crystal Spring
With living Drops: then let her come, and thou
With sacred Fillets, bind thy hoary Brow. 915
Thus will I pay my Vows, to Stygian Jove;
And end the Cares of my disastrous Love.
Then cast the Trojan Image on the Fire;
And as that burns, my Passion shall expire.
The Nurse moves onward, with officious Care, 920
And all the speed her aged Limbs can bear.
But furious Dido, with dark Thoughts involv'd,
Shook at the mighty Mischief she resolv'd.
With livid Spots distinguish'd was her Space, 924
Red were her rowling Eyes, and discompos'd her Pace:
Ghastly she gaz'd, with Pain she drew her Breath,
And Nature shiver'd at approaching Death.
Then swiftly to the fatal place she pass'd;
And mounts the Fun'ral Pile, with furious haste.
Unsheaths the Sword the Trojan left behind, 930
(Not for so dire an Enterprise design'd,)
But when she view'd the Garments loosely spread,
Which once he wore, and saw the conscious Bed,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$She paus'd, and, with a Sigh, the Robes embrac'd;
Then on the Couch her trembling Body cast, 935
Repress'd the ready Tears, and spoke her last.
Dear Pledges of my Love, while Heav'n so pleas'd,
Receive a Soul, of Mortal Anguish eas'd:
My fatal Course is finish'd; and I go
A glorious Name, among the Ghosts below. 940
A lofty City by my Hands is rais'd;
Pygmalion punish'd, and my Lord appeas'd.
What cou'd my Fortune have afforded more,
Had the false Trojan never touch'd my Shore!
Then kiss'd the Couch; and must I die, she said; 945
And unreveng'd; tis doubly to be dead!
Yet ev'n this Death with Pleasure I receive;
On any Terms, tis better than to live.
These Flames, from far, may the false Trojan view;
These boding Omens his base flight pursue. 950
She said, and struck: Deep enter'd in her side
The piercing Steel, with reeking Purple dy'd:
Clog'd in the Wound the cruel Weapon stands;
The spouting Blood came streaming on her Hands.
Her sad Attendants saw the deadly Stroke, 955
And with loud Cries the sounding Palace shook.
Distracted from the fatal sight they fled;
And thro' the Town the dismal Rumor spread.
First from the frighted Court, the Yell began,
Redoubled thence from House to House it ran: 960
The groans of Men, with Shrieks, Laments, and Cries,
Of mixing Women, mount the vaulted Skies.
Not less the Clamour, than if ancient Tyre,
Or the new Carthage, set by Foes on Fire,
The rowling Ruin, with their lov'd Abodes, 965
Involv'd the blazing Temples of their Gods.
Her Sifter hears, and, furious with Despair,
She beats her Breast, and rends her yellow Hair:
And calling on Eliza's Name aloud, 969
Runs breathless to the Place, and breaks the Crowd
Was all that Pomp of Woe for this prepar'd,
These Fires, this Fun'ral Pile, these Altars rear'd;
Was all this Train of Plots contriv'd, said she,
All only to deceive unhappy me?
Which is the worst, didst thou in Death pretend 975
To scorn thy Sister, or delude thy Friend!
Thy summon'd Sister, and thy Friend had come:
One Sword had serv'd us both, one common Tomb.
Was I to raise the Pile, the Pow'rs invoke,
Not to be present at the fatal Stroke? 980
At once thou hast destroy'd thy self and me;
Thy Town, thy Senate, and thy Colony!
Bring Water, bathe the Wound; while I in death
Lay close my Lips to hers; and catch the flying Breath.
This said, she mounts the Pile with eager haste; 985
And in her Arms the gasping Queen embrac'd:
Her Temples chas'd; and her own Garments tore
To stanch the streaming Blood, and cleanse the Gore.
Thrice Dido try'd to raise her drooping Head,
And fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on the Bed. 990
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Thrice op'd her heavy Eyes, and sought the Light,
But having found it, sicken'd at the sight;
And clos'd her Lids at last, in endless Night.
Then Juno, grieving that she shou'd sustain
A Death so ling'ring, and so full of Pain; 995
Sent Isis down, to free her from the Strife
Of lab'ring Nature, and dissolve her Life.
For since she dy'd, not doom'd by Heav'ns Decree,
Or her own Crime; but Human Casualty;
And rage of Love, that plung'd her in Despair, 1000
The Sisters had not cut the topmost Hair;
Which Proserpine, and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the Shades below.
Downward the various Goddess took her flight;
And drew a thousand Colours from the Light: 1005
Then stood above the dying Lover's Head,
And said, I thus devote thee to the dead.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$This Off'ring to th' Infernal Gods I bear:
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal Hair;
The strugling Soul was loos'd; and Life dissolv'd in Air. 1010