Produced by Clare Boothby, Clare Elliott, and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

The Tudor Reprints

The Tragedy of
Dido Queen of Carthage

Written by
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594

Date of this the earliest known edition…. 1594

[Bodleian]

Reproduced in Facsimile…. 1914

The Tudor Facsimile Texts

Under the Supervision and Editorship of JOHN S. FARMER

The Tragedy of
Dido, Queen of Carthage

Written by
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594

Issued for Subscribers by the Editor of

The Tragedy of
Dido, Queen of Carthage

Written by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594

This play is copied from the Bodley version. Other copies (according to Sir Sidney Lee, but not documented by Greg) are at Bridgewater House and Chatsworth; the Devonshire Collection of Plays has recently been sold to an American collector.

For more information and bibliographical details, see D.N.B. I've included a page of manuscript from the Bodley example in this facsimile because it contains information relevant to the student.

The reproduction from the original was made by The Clarendon Press, Oxford.

[Transcriber's Note: The following paragraphs have been transcribed from a handwritten page. Some text is illegible, and this has been marked with asterisks where appropriate.]

The tragedy of Dido is one of the rarest plays in the English language. Only two copies are known to exist, held by Dr. Wright and Mr. Reed.

M. Warton mentions in his Hist. of Eng. Poet (III. p. 435) that there was an elegy included regarding Marlowe's death; however, none is found in either of the copies. In response to my questions on this topic, he informed me by letter that a copy of this play was listed in Osborne's catalog in 1754, and that he saw it in his shop at that time (along with several books by Mr. Oldys that Osborne had bought) and that the elegy in question—"on Marlowe's untimely death" was placed right after the title page. It referenced a play by Marlowe called The Duke of Guise and four others; but he couldn’t remember if they were mentioned specifically by name. Unfortunately, he did not buy this rare piece, and it is now lost to time.

Bishop Tanner also talks about this elegy in such a specific way that he must have seen it. "Marlovius (Christopher), once a student at the University of Cambridge, later a stage actor, and then a tragic playwright, wrote many tragedies, such as Tamerlane and The Tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage. Pr. Come gentle Ganymed. He completed and published this work through Tho. Nash in London, 1594. 4^to.—Petrarius in the preface to the second part of Hero and Leander offers a lot of praise for Marlowe; Tho. Nash also does this in Carmine Elegiaco Tragidiæ Didonis præfiso in obitum Christop. Marlovii, where he mentions four of his tragedies, as well as another one de duce Guisio." Bib. Britan. 1740.

I think Mr. Warton only had this as his reason for claiming that this play was left unfinished by Marlowe and finished and published by Nashe; the title page doesn't show that it wasn't co-written by him and Marlowe while the latter was still alive. Maybe Nashe's Elegy could clarify this issue. Tanner, I believe, only relied on Philips for labeling Marlowe as an actor.

There was an old Latin play about Dido, written by
John Rightwise, performed for Cardinal Wolsey and again for
Queen Elizabeth in 1564. There's also another Latin play on this
subject, Dido, tragedia nova so quatuor pri*ibus ***
**************** Virgilii disampla Antwerp ed, 1559.

THE Tragedy of Dido Queen of Carthage:

Played by the Children of her Majesty's Chapel.

Written by Christopher Marlowe, and Thomas Nash. Gent.

Performers

Jupiter. Ascanius. Ganymede. Dido. Venus. Anna. Cupid. Achates. Juno. Ilioneus. Mercury. Iarbas. Hermes. Cloanthes. Aeneas. Sergestus.

[Illustration: (Decorative) "BY PEACE PLENTY, BY WISDOM PEACE"]

Printed by the Widow Orwin, for Thomas Woodcocke, and available for sale at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Black Bear. 1594.

[Illustration: (Decorative)]

The Tragedy of Dido Queen of Carthage.

As the curtains pull back, we see Jupiter playing with Ganymede on his knee, while Mercury is sleeping.

Iup. Come here, sweet Ganimed, and play with me, I love you so much, no matter what Iuno says.

Gan. I’m doing a lot better because of your useless love,
That won’t protect me from her harsh blows:
Today, when I poured into your cups,
And held the cloth of pleasure while you drank,
She hit me so hard for that I spilled,
That it made blood run down around my ears.

Iup. What? How dare she attack the one I cherish?
By Saturn's soul, and this air that threatens the earth,
That shaken three times makes nature's creations tremble,
I swear, if she frowns at you just once more,
I’ll hang her like a comet between heaven and earth,
And tie her hands and feet with golden cords,
Just like I did for harming Hercules.

Gan. If I could just see that pretty little show up close,
Oh, how I would laugh with Helen's brother,
And amaze the Gods with the fun:
Sweet Jupiter, if I ever caught your attention,
Or appeared lovely like a bird with eagle wings,
Bless my immortal beauty with this favor,
And I will spend my time in your bright embrace.

Iup. What sweet joy should I deny your youth?
Whose face brings such pleasure to my eyes,
As I breathe in your fiery, dazzling beams,
Have often chased away the horses of the night.
When they wanted to pull you from my sight:
Sit on my knee and ask for what you want,
Defy proud Fate, and cut the thread of time,
Why aren’t all the Gods at your command,
And heaven and earth the limits of your delight?
Vulcan will dance to make you laugh,
And my nine Daughters will sing when you feel sad,
From Juno's bird, I’ll pluck her spotted feathers,
To make you fans to cool your face,
And Venus' swans will shed their silver down,
To sweeten your sleep:
Hermes won’t show the world his wings anymore,
If your fancy stays in his feathers,
But as for this one, I’ll tear them all from him,
Just say you like their color:
Here, my little love, take these linked gems,
My Juno gift on her wedding day,
Put around your neck my own sweet heart,
And adorn your arms and shoulders with my stolen treasure.

Gan. I want a jewel for my ear, And a nice brooch to put in my hat, And then I'll hug you a hundred times.

Iup. And I will have Ganimed, if you'll be my love.

Welcome to Venus.

Venus. This is it, you can sit there playing around,
And messing with that lustful boy,
While my Æneas wanders on the seas,
And is a victim to every wave's pride.
Juno, deceitful Juno in her chariot's splendor,
Driven through the heavens by steeds from Boreas,
Made Hebe steer her airy wheels
Into the windy realm of the clouds,
Where she found Aeolus entrenched with storms,
And guarded by a thousand fearsome spirits,
She humbly begged him for our demise,
And ordered him to drown my son and all his crew.
Then the winds broke open their brazen doors,
And all Aeolia was up in arms:
Poor Troy must now be sacked upon the sea,
And Neptune's waves envy the men of war,
Epeus' horse transformed into Etna's hill,
Ready to wreck their wooden walls,
And Aeolus, like Agamemnon, sounds
The waves, his fierce soldiers to the plunder:
See how the night comes forth like Ulysses,
And intercepts the day like Dolon did before:
Oh dear! The stars suppressed like Rhesus' steeds,
Are pulled by darkness to Astraeus' tents.
What should I do to save you, my sweet boy?
When the waves threaten our crystal world,
And Proteus raises hills of floods up high,
Intending soon to play in the sky.
False Jupiter, do you reward virtue this way?
What? Is piety not exempt from sorrow?
Then let Æneas die in his innocence,
Since religion has no reward.

Iup. Keep Cytherea safe in your care,
Since Æneas’ wandering fate is set,
Whose tired limbs will soon find rest,
In those fair walls I promised him long ago:
But first, his good fortune must grow from blood,
Before he becomes the Lord of Turnus' town,
Or can make her smile who has frown until now:
He’ll war with the Rutiles for three winters,
And in the end, he will defeat them with his sword,
And likewise, he will spend three summers,
Taming those fierce barbarian minds:
Once that’s done, poor Troy, long suppressed,
Will rise from her ashes and lift her head,
And flourish once again, despite being thought dead:
But bright Ascanius’ beauty will do even more,
He who shares one radiant form with the Sun,
Will build his throne among those starry towers,
That earth-born Atlas groans beneath:
Only heaven will limit his empire,
Whose azure gates, engraved with his name,
Will make the morning pause in her gray dawn,
To feast her eyes on his engraved fame.
Thus, in the bold line of Hector, for three hundred years,
The royal Roman Scepter will remain,
Until a princess, conceived by Mars,
Brings forth a noble birth,
Who will ensure Troy shines in their endeavors.

Venus. How can I believe these flattering words,
When both the sea and sand threaten their ships,
And Phœbus, like in dark pools, refuses
To let his hair touch the Tyrrhenian Sea?

Iup. I'll take care of that right away: Hermes, wake up and hurry to Neptune's realm, Where the Wind-god is currently battling Fate, Besieging the offspring of our royal lineage. Tell him for me to rein in his stormy powers And bind them in Vulcan's strong bronze, For daring to disrupt our kinsman's peace. Venus, goodbye, your son will be our responsibility: Come Ganimed, we need to get to work on this.

Jupiter exits with Ganymede.

Venus. Troubled Seas, calm your raging waves,
And welcome Æneas with your gentle smiles,
His beautiful burden should make you proud,
If only the heavens hadn't shrouded him in stormy clouds,
Hiding his brilliant glory from your sight.
For my sake, have compassion on him, Oceanus,
Who once emerged from your watery depths,
And whose existence came from your bubbling foam:
Triton has filled his trumpet with tales of Troy,
So he will surely feel pity for his struggles,
And call upon both Thetis and Cimodoæ,
To help him in this dire situation.

Enter Aeneas with Ascanius, along with one or two others.

What? Do I see my son coming ashore:
Venus, how happy you seem,
While your eyes draw in the joys you seek:
Great Jupiter, may you always be honored,
For this friendly help in a time of need.
Here in this bush, I will stand disguised,
While my Aeneas pours out his complaints,
And heaven and earth learn of his unrest.

Æn. You sons of worry, partners in my journey,
Priam's misfortune follows us by sea,
And Helen's abduction haunts you at your heels.
How many dangers have we overcome?
Both barking Scylla and the crashing rocks,
The Cyclops shelves and grim Cerania's seat
You have passed, and yet you remain alive!
Lift up your hearts, since fate is still on our side,
And changing skies may return those good days,
Which Pergama once boasted in all her glory.

Acha. Brave Prince of Troy, you alone are our God,
By your virtues, you free us from trouble,
And keep our hopes alive for joyful moments:
Just smile, and the cloudy sky will clear,
Whose night and day come from your brows:
Even though we're in extreme misery,
And bear the scars of weathered sorrow:
The aging Sun will shine again,
To help us live back to our former warmth,
And every creature the forest sends out,
Will leave their young ones for our limited food.

Asca. Dad, I'm feeling faint. Please, give me something to eat.

Aeneid Alas, sweet boy, you need to be patient for a bit,
Until we have fire to cook the meat we killed:
Gentle Achates, grab the tinderbox,
So we can start a fire to warm ourselves,
And roast our newly found food on this shore.

Venus. Look at the strange things necessity brings about, How close my dear Æneas has been driven?

Æn. Wait, take this candle and go light a fire. You’ll have plenty of leaves and fallen branches nearby to roast your food with. Ascanius, go and dry off your soaked limbs, while I and my Achates wander around to see what land the wind has brought us to or whether it’s inhabited by people or animals.

Aha. The air is nice, and the soil is perfect
For cities and community support:
Yet I’m really surprised that I can’t find,
Any footprints of people imprinted in the ground.

Venus. Now is the time for me to do my part:
Hey young men, did you see any of my sisters wandering around here?
Having a quiver strapped to her side,
And dressed in a spotted leopard skin.

Æn. I didn’t see or hear of anything like that:
But what should I, fair Virgin, call you?
Your looks show no mortal form to behold,
Nor does your speech reveal anything human about your birth,
You are a goddess who deceives our eyes,
And hides your beauty in this borrowed shape;
But whether you are the Sun’s bright sister,
Or one of chaste Diana's fellow nymphs,
May you live happily at the height of all content,
And ease our suffering with this one favor,
As to guide us under what good heaven
We now breathe, and what this world is called,
On which we are thrown by the fury of storms,
Tell us, O tell us, who are ignorant,
And this right hand will make your altars break
With mountain heaps of milk-white sacrifice.

Venus. I don't care for such honor, stranger:
It's customary for Tyrian girls to wear
Their bow and quiver in this modest way,
And dress in purple just for the occasion,
So they can move more gracefully across the meadows,
And catch up with the tusked boar in the hunt.
But about the land you're asking about,
It's the rich and powerful Punic kingdom,
Next to Agenor's grand city,
The royal seat of Southern Libya,
Where Sidonian Dido reigns as queen.
But who are you to ask me these questions?
Where do you come from, or where do you intend to go?

I am from Troy, Æneas is my name,
Driven by war from my homeland,
I set sail to seek out Italy;
And I come from a divine lineage that traces back to Jove,
With twelve ships from Phrygia, I sailed the deep,
Following the path my mother Venus showed me:
But out of all those ships, only seven made it safely,
And they were so battered and tossed by the waves,
That every tide slams against their wooden sides:
And all of them emptied of their cargo,
Weighted down by the heavy water.
But I, poor and unknown, sadly,
Wander through these Libyan deserts, all scorned,
Exiled from both Europe and wide Asia,
And I have no shelter but the sky.

Venus. Fortune has favored you, whoever you are,
By sending you to this friendly Coast:
In God’s name, go on and head to the Court,
Where Dido will welcome you with her smiles:
And about your ships that you think are lost,
Not one has perished in the storm,
But they've arrived safely not far from here:
And so I leave you to your fate,
Wishing good luck on your wandering steps. Exit.

Æn. Achates, it’s my mother who has fled,
I recognize her by the movements of her feet:
Stay, gentle Venus, don’t fly away from your son,
It’s too cruel—why will you abandon me like this?
Or am I mistaken, deceived in these shadows?
Why don’t we talk together, hand in hand?
And share our sorrows in a more familiar way?
But you’re gone, leaving me here all alone,
To fill the air with my mournful lament. Exit.

Enter Illioneus and Cloanthes.

Illio. Follow, Trojans, follow this brave leader, And explain to him the full extent of your distress.

Iar. Why, what are you, or why are you here?

Illio. Poor souls of Troy, envious of the winds,
Who seek such favor at your honored feet,
As the wretched misery can plead:
Save, save, oh save our ships from cruel fire,
That complain of the wounds of a thousand waves,
And spare our lives whom every spite pursues.
We do not come to offend your Libyan gods,
Or steal your household spirits from their shrines:
Our hands aren't prepared for unlawful plunder,
Nor armed to harm in any way:
Such force is far from our unarmed thoughts,
Whose fading sense of victory abandoned,
Forbids all hope to reside in our hearts.

Iar. But tell me, Trojans, if you will, To what fruitful lands were you headed, Before Boreas caught your sails?

Cloan. There’s a place we call Hesperia,
An ancient empire known for its arms,
And rich in the fertile wealth of Ceres,
Which we now refer to as Italia, named after him,
That once ruled for a long time in such peace:
We headed there,
When suddenly the gloomy Orion rose,
And led our ships into the shallow sands,
Where the southern wind, with its salty breath,
Scattered them all among the wrecked rocks:
From there, a few of us made it to land,
We fear the rest are swallowed by the waves.

Iar. Brave men at arms, let go of pointless fears, Since Carthage knows how to handle distress.

Serg. The savage ones threaten our ships,
And won't allow us to settle on the sands:
They swarm to the shore in huge numbers,
And from the very beginning, they block our feet.

Iar. I'll make sure they don't bother you,
You and your men will feast in our court,
And every Trojan will be as welcome here,
As Jupiter was to humble Vausis' house:
Come with me, I'll take you to my queen,
Who will back up my words with further actions.

Serg. Thank you, kind Lord, for such unexpected grace,
If we could just see Æneas’s face one more time,
Then we would hope to repay such friendly gestures,
In ways that would exceed what we can express.

Act 2.

Enter Aeneas, Achates, and Ascanius.

Æn. Where am I now? This should be the walls of Carthage.

Acha. Why is my sweet Æneas so amazed?

Æn. Oh my Achates, Theban Niobe,
Who wept her life away for the death of her sons,
And was turned into stone from grief,
Didn’t have the kind of emotions I feel.
I think that town over there should be Troy, that Idas hill,
There's the Zanthus stream, because here’s Priamus,
And when I realize it’s not, I feel like I’m dying.

Ach. And in this feeling is Achates too,
I can’t help but fall to my knees,
And kiss his hand: O where is Hecuba,
She used to sit here, but all that’s left is air
And what is this but stone?

Æn. Oh, but this stone makes Æneas weep,
And if only my prayers (like Pygmalion's did)
Could give it life, so under his guidance
We could sail back to Troy and get revenge
On these cold-hearted Greeks, who rejoice
That nothing of Priamus remains:
Oh, Priamus is here, and this is him,
Come on, get on board, and go after those hateful Greeks.

Acha. What does Æneas mean?

Aeneid Achates, even though my eyes say this is just stone, My mind thinks this is Priam: And when my grieving heart sighs and says no, It would leap out to give Priam life: Oh, if only I weren’t here at all, so you could be. Achates, look, King Priam is waving his hand, He is alive, Troy has not been defeated.

Ach. Your mind, Æneas, that wants it to be this way tricks your eyesight; Priamus is dead.

Æn. Ah Troy is destroyed, and Priamus is dead, And why should poor Æneas still be alive?

Asca. Sweet father, stop me from crying, this isn't him: If it were Priam, he would be smiling at me.

Acha. Aeneas look, here come the citizens, Stop mourning before they start laughing at our fears.

Enter Cloanthus, Sergestus, Illioneus.

Æn. Lords of this town, or whatever title
Belongs to your name, please, out of kindness,
Tell us who lives in this lovely town,
What kind of people they are, and who governs them:
For we are strangers washed up on this shore,
And barely know what region we are in.

Illio. I hear Æneas' voice, but I don't see him, Because none of these can be our General.

Acha. Like Illioneus says this noble man, But Illioneus doesn't wear such fancy clothes.

Serg. You are Achates, or I'm deceived.

Acha. Æneas sees Sergestus or his ghost.

Illio. He means Aeneas, let's kiss his feet.

Cloan. It’s our Captain, see Ascanius.

Serg. Long live Æneas and Ascanius.

Æn. Achates, speak, for I am overjoyed.

Acha. O Illioneus, are you alive?

Illio. Blessed be the moment I see Achates’s face.

Cloan. Why does Æneas turn from his trustworthy friends?

Æn. Sergestus, Illioneus and the rest,
Seeing you has amazed me. What twists of fate
have brought my dear friends to such a state?
Please tell me, because I really want to know.

Illio. Lovely Æneas, these are the walls of Carthage,
And here Queen Dido wears the imperial crown,
Who, for the sake of Troy, has welcomed us all,
And dressed us in these wealthy robes we wear.
She has often asked us under whom we served,
And when we told her, she would weep out of grief,
Thinking the sea had swallowed up your ships,
And now that she sees you, how will she rejoice?

Serg. Look where her suitors walk through the hall, carrying a feast; Dido isn't far away.

Hey. Look where she comes: Æneas watched her closely.

Æn. I can look at her, but she doesn't see me.

Enter Dido and her crew.

Dido. Who are you that’s looking at me like that?

Æn. Once, I was a powerful queen of Troy: But Troy is gone, so what should I say I am now?

Illio. Renowned Dido, this is our General: warrior Æneas.

Dido. Warlike Æneas, and wearing these shabby clothes? Go get the outfit that Sicheus wore: Brave Prince, welcome to Carthage and to me, We’re both lucky that Æneas is our guest: Sit in this chair and feast with a Queen, Æneas is Æneas, even if he wore Clothes as bad as those Irus wore.

Æn. This is no place for someone who feels helpless,
If it’s alright with your grace, let Æneas stay:
For even though I come from a noble line, my circumstances are humble,
Too humble to be a companion to a queen.

Dido. Your destiny may be bigger than your origins,
Sit down Æneas, take Dido's seat,
And if this is your son, as I think,
Let him sit here, be a cheerful, lovely child.

Æn. This place doesn’t suit me, please forgive me.

Dido. I'll have it that way, Æneas be content.

Asca. Ma'am, you will be my mother.

Dido. And so I will, sweet child: be a happy man, Here’s to your better luck and good stars.

Æn. I humbly thank you, your grace.

Dido. Remember who you are, speak like yourself, humility belongs to common workers.

And who is as miserable as Æneas?

Dido. If it’s in Dido's power to make you happy, then you can be sure that you aren’t unhappy.

O Priam, O Troy, oh Hecuba!

Dido. May I ask you to discuss in detail,
And truthfully explain how Troy fell:
For many stories circulate about that city's downfall,
And they hardly agree on any point:
Some say Antenor betrayed the town,
Others claim it was Sinon’s lies:
But what we all know is that Troy has fallen,
And Priam is dead, yet we hear no news.

Æn. A tragic story compels Dido to reveal,
Whose memory, like a cold and lifeless instrument,
Drives my senses away from this tormented soul,
And causes Æneas to kneel at Dido's feet.

Dido. What makes Æneas hesitate to think of Troy? In whose defense he fought so bravely: Look up and speak.

Aen. Then Aeneas spoke with Achilles' tongue,
And Dido and you Carthaginian peers,
Listen to me, but beware of the harsh ears of Myrmidons,
Daily accustomed to battles and massacres,
Lest you be too moved by my sad story.
The Greek soldiers, tired from ten years of war,
Began to cry out, “Let’s go back to our ships,
Troy is unbeatable, why are we still here?”
With their outcries, Atrides was alarmed,
And summoned the captains to his royal tent,
Who, looking at the scars we Trojans gave,
Noticed the number of their men had decreased,
And the remaining soldiers were weak and disheartened,
Gave their voices to break camp,
And so in groups they all marched to Tenedos:
When they arrived, Ulysses on the sand
Tried with sweet words to turn them back:
And as he spoke to further his intent,
The winds drove huge waves to the shore,
And the sky darkened with stormy clouds:
Then he claimed the gods wanted them to stay,
And prophesied that Troy would be overcome:
And with that, he called forth false Sinon,
A man made of cunning and lies,
Whose enticing tongue sounded like Hermes' pipe,
Able to make a hundred watchful eyes sleep:
And him, Epeus, who built the horse,
With sacrificial wreaths on his head,
Ulysses sent to our unfortunate town:
Who, crawling in the mud of Zanthus' banks,
His hands bound behind his back, and both his eyes
Turned up to heaven as if resolved to die,
Our Phrygian shepherd was dragged within the gates,
And brought to the court of Priamus:
To whom he used such pitiful actions,
Looks so remorseful, vows so strong,
That the old man, overwhelmed,
Kissed him, embraced him, and loosed his bonds,
And then, O Dido, forgive me.

Dido. No, don't leave just yet. Tell me the rest.

Æn. Oh, the haunting words of that lowly slave,
Made him think the Epeus horse of pine trees
Was a sacrifice to calm Minerva's anger:
Especially after that one Laocoon
Broke a spear against his hollow chest,
And was stung to death by two winged serpents.
Seeing this, we were ordered immediately
To respectfully bring it into Troy.
In this unfortunate task, I was involved,
These hands helped to drag it to the gates,
Through which it couldn't pass; it was too massive.
Oh, if it had never entered, Troy would have survived.
But Priamus, unable to wait any longer,
Forced a wide breach in that fortified wall,
Which a thousand battering rams could never pierce,
And thus came this fatal instrument:
At whose cursed feet, in our drunken joy,
We feasted until we were overcome with wine,
Some overeating, and others sleeping soundly.
Seeing this, Sinon caused the Greek spies
To rush to Tenedos and inform the camp:
Then he unlocked the horse, and suddenly
From its belly, Neoptolemus
Set his spear on the ground and leapt out,
And a thousand more Greeks followed him,
With stern faces gleaming with unquenchable fire,
That later burned the pride of Asia.
By this time, the camp had reached the walls,
And marched through the breach into the streets,
Where meeting the others, they shouted, "Kill, kill!"
Frightened by this chaotic noise, I rose,
And looking from a turret, I saw
Young infants swimming in their parents' blood,
Headless corpses piled in heaps,
Virgins half-dead, dragged by their golden hair,
And roughly tossed onto a ring of pikes,
Old men with swords thrust through their aged sides,
Kneeling for mercy to a Greek lad,
Who with steel pole-axes smashed their brains out.
Then I fastened my armor, drew my sword,
And just as I was about to go down, came Hector's ghost
With an ashen face, bluish and sulfurous eyes,
His arms torn from his shoulders, and his chest
Marked with wounds, and what made me weep,
The straps at his heels, by which Achilles’ horse
Dragged him in triumph through the Greek camp,
Burst from the ground, crying, "Æneas, flee,
Troy is on fire, the Greeks have taken the town,

Dido. O Hector, who doesn't cry when they hear your name?

Æn. Yet I charged forward, desperate to save my life,
I ran into the thickest crowds, and with this sword
I sent many of their savage souls to hell.
Finally, Pirrhus appeared, furious and raging.
His armor dripping with blood, and on his spear
The mangled head of Priam's youngest son,
And behind him, his band of Mirmidons,
With balls of wild fire in their deadly hands,
Which created the funeral blaze that consumed beautiful Troy:
All of them surrounded me, shouting, "This is the one."

Dido. Ah, how could poor Aeneas escape their grasp?

Æn. My mother Venus jealous of my health,
Helped me escape from their twisted traps and ties:
So I dodged the raging Pirrhus’s fury:
Who then ran to the palace of the King,
And at Ioues’ altar finding Priamus,
Around whose withered neck hung Hecuba,
Clasping her hand in his, and together both
Beating their chests and falling to the ground,
He, with his sword raised high,
And with Megeras’ fierce eyes glaring at them,
Threatened a thousand deaths with every glance.
To him, the aged King thus trembling spoke:
Achilles’ son, remember who I was,
Father of fifty sons, but they are dead,
Lord of my fortunes, but my fortunes have changed,
King of this City, but my Troy is in flames,
And now I am neither father, lord, nor king:
Yet who is so miserable that they don’t want to live?
O let me live, great Neoptolemus,
Unmoved at all, but smiling at his tears,
This butcher, while his hands were still raised,
Stepped on his chest and cut off his hands.

Dido. Oh, Aeneas, I can't listen any longer.

Æn. At that, the frantic queen jumped on his face,
And clung to his eyelids with her nails,
Prolonging her husband’s life for a little while:
Finally, the soldiers pulled her by the heels,
And swung her, howling, into the empty air,
Which sent an echo to the wounded king:
He lifted up his battered limbs,
And wanted to grapple with Achilles’ son,
Forgetting both his lack of strength and hands,
Which he, scornfully, swung his sword around,
And with that wound, the king fell down:
Then from the navel to the throat at once,
He sliced old Priam: at his last gasp,
Jove’s marble statue began to frown,
Disgusted with Pirrus for this wicked act:
Yet he, undaunted, took his father’s flag,
Dipped it in the old king's chill, cold blood,
And then ran triumphantly into the streets,
Where he could hardly pass for slaughtered men:
So leaning on his sword, he stood completely still,
Watching the fire with which rich Ilion burned.
By this, I carried my father on my back,
This young boy in my arms, and by the hand
Led my beloved wife Creusa,
When you, Achates, with your sword made a way,
And we were surrounded by the Greeks:
Oh, there I lost my wife: and if we hadn’t
Fought bravely, I wouldn’t be telling this tale:
But courage didn’t help; we had to flee,
And as we went to our ships, you know
We saw Cassandra sprawled in the streets,
Whom Ajax raped in Diana’s grove,
Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all torn,
Whom I picked up to carry to our ships;
But suddenly, the Greeks chased us,
And I, alas, was forced to leave her behind.
Then we made it to our ships, and once aboard,
Polixena cried out, Æneas, wait,
The Greeks are chasing me, stay and take me in.
Moved by her voice, I jumped into the sea,
Thinking to carry her on my back aboard:
For all our ships were launched into the deep,
And as I swam, she standing on the shore,
Was seized by the cruel Mirmidons,
And then sacrificed by that Pirrus.

Dido. I dye with melting sadness, Æneas leaves.

Anna. Oh, what happened to old Hecuba?

Iar. How did Æneas get back to the fleet?

Dido. But how did Helen escape, the one who caused this war?

Æn. Achates says, sorrow has completely exhausted me.

Acha. What happened to the Queen, we can't show,
We hear they took her captive to Greece,
As for Æneas, he swam back quickly,
And Helena betrayed Diiphobus
Her lover, after Alexander died,
And so she reconciled with Menelaus.

Dido. Oh, I wish that tempting woman had never been born:
Trojan, your sorrowful story has made me sad:
Come, let’s think of something fun,
To get me away from these gloomy thoughts.

Everyone exits.

Venus enters through another door and grabs Ascanius by the sleeve.

Venus. Pretty child, stay here with Dido's waiting maid,
I’ll give you sugar almonds, sweet preserves,
A silver belt, and a golden purse,
And this young prince will be your playmate.

Asca. Are you Queen Dido's son?

Cupid. My mother gave me this awesome bow.

Asca. Should I have a quiver and a bow?

Venus. Such a bow, such a quiver, and such golden arrows,
Will Dido give to sweet Ascanius:
For Dido's sake, I take you in my arms,
And place these sparkly feathers in your hat,
Eat sweets in my arms, and I will sing.
Now he is fast asleep, and in this grove
Among green bushes, I’ll lay Ascanius,
And cover him with sweet-smelling violets,
Blushing roses, purple hyacinth:
These milk-white doves will be his sentinels:
If anyone tries to harm him,
They will quickly fly to Citheidas' fist.
Now Cupid, turn yourself into Ascanius' shape,
And go to Dido, who instead of him
Will place you on her lap and play with you:
Then touch her white breast with this arrowhead,
So she may fall in love with Aeneas:
And in that way, repair his damaged ships,
Supply his soldiers, give him wealthy gifts,
And he will finally depart for Italy,
Or else make his royal throne in Carthage.

Cupid. I will do my duty and play my role, As every touch shall pierce Queen Dido's heart.

Venus. Sleep, my sweet nephew, in these cool shades,
Free from the murmurs of these flowing streams,
The cries of beasts, the rustling of the winds,
Or the rustle of these leaves; everything will be calm,
And nothing will disturb your peaceful sleep,
Until I come back and take you away again. Exit.

Act 3. Scene 1.

Enter Cupid alone.

Cupid. Now Cupid, make the Carthaginian Queen,
Fall in love with your brother's looks,
Hide this golden arrow in your sleeve,
So she doesn’t think you’re Venus' son:
And when she gently strokes your head,
Then I’ll touch her heart and win her over.

Enter Iarbus, Anna, and Dido.

Iar. How long, beautiful Dido, will I long for you?
It's not enough that you grant me your love,
I want to experience what I desire:
That love is childish if it only exists in words.

Dido. Iarbus, know that you, among all my suitors
(And I have had many more powerful kings)
Have received the greatest favors I could give:
I’m afraid Dido has been seen as too easy,
For being too friendly with Iarbus:
Although the gods know that no inappropriate thoughts
Have ever taken residence in Dido's heart.

Iar. But Dido is the favor I ask.

Dido. Don't worry Iarbus, Dido could be yours.

Anna. Look, sister, how Æneas’ little son is playing with your clothes and hugging you.

Cupid. No Dido will not take me in her arms, I will not be her son, she doesn't love me.

Dido. Don’t cry, sweet boy, you will be Dido's son,
Sit in my lap and let me hear you sing.
No more, my child, now let’s talk a bit,
And tell me where you learned this pretty song?

Cupid. My cousin Helen taught me in Troy.

Dido. How lovely is Ascanius when he smiles?

Cupid. Will Dido let me hang around her neck?

Dido. I shake my head and give you permission to kiss her too.

Cupid. What will you give me? Now I’ll take this fan.

Dido. Take it, Ascanius, for your father's sake.

Iar. Come Dido, leave Ascanius, let's walk.

Dido. Go away, Ascanius will stay.

Iar. Ungentle Queen, is this your love for me?

Dido. Oh wait Iarbus, and I will go with you.

Cupid. And if my mom goes, I'll follow her.

Dido. Why are you staying here? You're not someone I love.

Iar. Iarbus dye, seeing she leaves you.

Dido. No, live Iarbus, what have you done,
That makes me say you’re not someone I love?
You’ve done something, so I say,
Leave Carthage, don’t come in front of me.

Iar. Am I not the King of wealthy Getulia?

Dido. Iarbus forgive me, and please wait a moment.

Cupid. Mom, look here.

Dido. What are you telling me about wealthy Getulia? Am I not the Queen of Libia? Then leave.

Iar. I go to indulge the whims of my love, But not from Carthage for a thousand worlds.

Dido. Iarbus.

Iar. Does Dido call me back?

Dido. No, but I ask you never to look at me again.

Iar. Then take out both of my eyes, or let me die. Exit Iarb.

Anna. Why does Dido tell Iarbus to go?

Dido. Because his disgusting sight bothers me,
And in my mind, I cherish another love:
O Anna, if you only knew how wonderful love is,
You would quickly give up this single life.

Anna. Poor soul, I know all too well the pain of love, Oh, if only Iarbus could ever see me that way.

Dido. Is not Æneas handsome and beautiful?

Anna. Yes, and Iarbus cruel and unkind.

Dido. Isn't he articulate in everything he says?

Anna. Yes, and Iarbus rude and unsophisticated.

Dido. Not Iarbus, but sweet Anna says, Is not Æneas worthy of Dido's love?

Anna. Oh sister, if you were the Empress of the world, Æneas definitely deserves to be your love, He's so attractive that wherever he goes, People gather to look at him.

Dido. But tell them no one shall look at him but me, Or their uncouth glare will stain my lover's face: Anna, dear sister Anna, go get him, Before these sweet thoughts make me fade away completely.

Anna. Then sister, do you reject Iarbus love?

Dido. Do I really have to hear that awful name again? Run for Aeneas, or I'll go to him myself. Exit Anna.

Cupid. Don't hurt my dad when he arrives.

Dido. No, for your sake, I'll love your father well.
Oh, silly Dido, who until now
Never thought Æneas was beautiful:
But now, to make up for this oversight,
I’ll make bracelets from his golden hair,
His shining eyes will be my mirror,
His lips an altar, where I'll offer up
As many kisses as there are grains of sand in the sea,
Instead of music, I’ll listen to him speak,
His looks will be my only library,
And you, Æneas, are Dido's treasure,
In whose fair bosom I will lock away more wealth,
Than twenty thousand Indias can provide:
Oh, here he comes, love, love, give Dido leave
To be more modest than her thoughts allow,
Lest I become a wonder to the world.
Achates, how does Carthage please your lord?

Acha. That will Æneas show your majesty.

Dido. Aeneas, are you there?

Æn. I understand your highness called for me.

Dido. No, but now that you’re here, tell me truly, In what ways could Dido make you happy?

Aen. I've received so much from Dido that
I can't ask for anything more without feeling ashamed.
But, Queen of Africa, my ships are unrigged,
Their sails are torn apart by the wind,
My oars are broken, and my gear is lost,
Yes, my entire fleet is wrecked on rocks and shoals:
Neither a stern nor an anchor does our damaged fleet have,
Our masts were struck overboard by the furious winds:
If Dido can provide for these pitiable needs,
We will consider her the reason for our survival.

Dido. Aeneas, I will repair your Trojan ships,
On the condition that you stay with me,
And let Achates sail to Italy:
I’ll give you gear made of embossed gold,
Woven from the bark of fragrant trees,
Oars of solid ivory full of holes,
Through which the water will delight to play:
Your anchors will be carved from crystal rocks,
And if you lose them, they’ll shine above the waves;
The masts for your billowing sails will be
Hollow pyramids of silver plate:
The sails of folded linen, featuring
The wars of Troy, but not Troy's downfall:
As ballast, empty Dido's treasury,
Take whatever you want, but leave Aeneas here.
Achates, you will be so simply dressed,
That sea nymphs will swarm around your ships,
And playful mermaids will court you with sweet songs,
Throwing in gifts of far greater worth,
Than what Thetis drapes around Apollo's neck,
So that Aeneas may stay with me.

Æn. Why would Dido want Æneas to stay?

Dido. To fight against my neighboring enemies: Æneas, don't think Dido is in love: Because if any man could win me over, I would have been married before Æneas arrived: Look where the portraits of my suitors are hanging, And aren't these as handsome as can be?

Acha. I saw this man at Troy before Troy was sacked.

I saw this in Greece when Paris stole beautiful Helen.

Illio. This guy and I were at the Olympus games.

Serg. I recognize this face; he's Persian. I traveled with him to Ætolia.

Cloan. And I'm in Athens with this guy, Unless I'm mistaken, we talked about this once.

Dido. But tell me, Æneas, do you know any of these?

Æn. No, ma'am, but it seems these are kings.

Dido. All these and others I’ve never seen,
Have been very persistent suitors for my love,
Some came in person, others sent their representatives:
Yet none succeeded; I am free from all,
And yet God knows I'm tangled up with one.
This one was an orator, who thought he could win me over with words,
But he was mistaken:
And this was a wild Spartan courtier,
But his fanciful antics didn’t please me:
This was Alcion, a musician,
But even though he played beautifully, I let him go:
This was the wealthy King of Thessaly,
But I had enough gold and dismissed him:
This was Meleager's son, a warrior prince,
But fighting doesn’t suit my tender years:
The rest are known by everyone,
Yet I swear by heaven and the one I love,
I was as far from love as they were from hate.

Æn. How lucky he will be if Dido loves him.

Dido. Then never say you’re miserable,
Because you might be my love:
But don’t brag about it, because I don’t love you,
And yet I don’t hate you: Oh, if I speak
I’ll betray myself: Æneas speak,
We’ll go hunting in the woods,
But not just for you, you’re just one,
But for Achates and his followers. Exeunt.

Enter Iuno to Ascanius asleep.

Juno. Here lies my hatred, Aeneas cursed child,
The boy that false destiny favors,
The heir of fury, the favorite of beauty,
That ugly little brat who will endure my wrath,
And dishonor my divinity with high disgrace:
But I will take a different approach now,
And erase the eternal record of time:
Troy will no longer call him her second hope,
Nor will Venus celebrate his young life:
For here, despite heaven, I will kill him,
And feed infection with his wasted life:
Say Paris, will Venus have the ball now?
Say vengeance, will her Ascanius die now?
Oh no, God knows, I can't wait for my time,
Nor repay kindness with double the pain:
Ugh, I am foolish and not made to hurt,
And have no bitterness at all to grieve my foes:
But lustful Jove and his adulterous child,
Will find it written on the face of chaos,
That only Juno rules in Rhamnusa town.

Welcome to Venus.

Venus. What does this mean? My doves have returned, Warning me of such danger close at hand, To harm my sweet Ascanius and his lovely life. Iuno, my mortal enemy, what are you doing here? Go away, old witch, and don’t bother my thoughts.

Iuno. How could Venus say such pointless words in anger,
That they would ever tarnish such a beautiful mouth as yours:
Aren't we both born of a heavenly lineage,
And feast together as two Sisters alongside the Gods?
So why then should displeasure separate,
Those who are bound by family and friendship?

Venus. You hateful witch, you would have killed my son,
If my doves hadn't revealed your plan:
But I will rip your eyes out of your head,
And feed the birds with their bloody sockets,
If you even lay a finger on my boy.

Iuno. Is this really all the thanks I get,
For saving him from snake and serpent bites,
That would have killed him while he slept?
What if I was angry with your son,
And caused him a lot of suffering on sea and land,
Because of my hatred for Trojan Ganimed,
Who was boosted by my Hebes shame,
And Paris' judgment of the heavenly contest?
I summoned all the winds for his wreck,
And urged every element to cause him harm:
Yet now I regret his suffering,
And wish I had never wronged him this way:
It was pointless to fight against fate,
That has so many unstoppable allies:
So I change my mind with the times,
And plant love where envy once grew.

Venus. Sister of Jove, if your love is truly like,
As your declarations suggest,
We will share our fate as friends:
Cupid will rest his arrows in your lap,
And trade his golden shafts for a scepter,
Fancy and modesty will live together as companions,
And your beautiful peacocks will perch with my pigeons:
Love my Aeneas, and desire belongs to you,
The day, the night, my swans, my sweets are yours.

Iuno. These words are more than just music to me,
They completely fill my soul with joy:
Venus, sweet Venus, how can I deserve
Such loving favors from your beautiful hand?
But so you can understand more easily,
How much I value this friendship,
Listen to my proposal for an everlasting bond,
Which I will offer in exchange for your love:
You know your son is now with Dido,
And he's enjoying the favors of her court,
She too spends her time in admiration,
And can’t talk or think about anything but him:
So why shouldn’t they join in marriage,
And produce mighty kings for Carthage,
Who, by chance of the sea, have become such friends?
And Venus, let’s seal a match
Between these two, whose love is so similar,
And both our deities united as one,
Shall bring happiness to their throne.

Venus. I could definitely appreciate this way of reconciliation,
But I really fear my son will never agree,
His warrior spirit already out at sea,
Shining her light on the shores of Lauinias.

Juno. Fair Queen of love, I will cast off these doubts,
And find a way to tire out such foolish thoughts:
Today they will both go hunting
Into these woods, next to these walls,
When in the middle of all their playful activities,
I’ll make the clouds dissolve their watery work,
And drench Silvanus's dwelling with their showers,
Then in one cave, the Queen and he will meet,
And take turns sharing their thoughts,
Whose brief conclusion will seal their hearts,
To the purpose we’re discussing now.

Venus. Sister, I see you know my tricks,
Do what you want this one time,
In the meantime, Ascanius will be my responsibility,
I will carry him to Ida in my arms,
And lay him down on Adonis' purple bed, Exeunt.

Enter Dido, Aeneas, Anna, Iarbus, Achates, and their followers.

Dido. Aeneas, don’t doubt that I honor you,
That I’m going with you to hunt:
You can see I’ve set aside my royal robes,
Which the sparkling luster of Diana’s shadow covers,
Everyone else is ready to have fun,
The woods are vast, and we have plenty of game:
Hand me my golden bow for a moment,
While I strap my quiver to my side:
Lords go ahead, we need to talk alone.

Iar. Vngentle, can she treat Iarbus like that? I’d rather die than let a stranger have that privilege: We two will talk alone, what are these words?

Dido. Why is Iarbus here out of everyone else? We could have managed without your company.

Æn. But love and duty might have pushed him on, To insist beyond what was welcome to your eyes.

Iar. Why, man from Troy, do I offend your eyes? Or are you upset that your superiors are so close?

Dido. What’s up, Getulian? Have you gotten so bold that you’re challenging us with your comparisons? Peasant, go find companions more like yourself, and don’t mess with anyone I care about. Æneas, don’t be upset by what he says, because sometimes he’ll be out of line.

Iar. Women can be unfair under the privilege of love:
But if any man (except Dido)
Had insulted me with such disgraceful words,
I would either have drunk his dying blood,
Or I would have wagered my life instead?

Dido. Hunters, why aren't you setting your traps quickly, and getting the swift deer out of their lairs?

Anna. Sister, look, look at Ascanius in his glory, Holding his hunting spear proudly in his hand.

Dido. Yeah, little son, are you so eager now?

Asca. Mother, one day I will be a man,
And better suited for other weapons,
In the meantime, these playful tools serve my fight,
Which I will break between a lion's jaws.

Dido. What, do you really dare to look a lion in the face?

Asca. I will confront him and do whatever he can.

Anna. He sounds just like his father in every way.

Æn. And if I could live to see him conquer wealthy Thebes,
And load his spear with the heads of Greek princes,
Then I would wish to be by Anchises tomb,
And dead to the honor that raised me up.

Iar. If only I could live to see you set sail,
And raised high on Neptune's terrifying waves,
Then I would wish to be in beautiful Dido's embrace,
And dead to the scorn that has chased me down.

Æn. Stout friend Achates, do you know this forest?

Acha. As I recall, this is where you killed the Deere,
That saved your starving soldiers' lives from death,
When you first stepped foot on the shore,
And here we met the fair Venus, looking like a virgin,
Carrying her bow and quiver on her back.

Æn. Oh, how these annoying tasks are now enjoyable,
And overwhelm my thoughts with their resolution:
Who wouldn’t go through any kind of hard work,
To be well-prepared with such a winter's story?

Dido. Aeneas, stop with the sadness and let’s go, Some to the mountains, some to the land, You to the valleys, you to the home.

Everyone leaves: they stay.

Iar. I, this is what wounds me to the death,
To see a Phrygian carried off to the sea,
Preferred over a man of majesty:
Oh love, oh hate, oh cruel women’s hearts,
That change like the moon with every phase,
And like the planets always love to roam:
What should I do, wronged and in disdain?
Should I take revenge on Æneas, or on her:
On her? Foolish man, that would be a war against heaven,
And with one arrow provoke ten thousand darts:
This Trojan’s end will be the target of your envy,
Whose blood will bring you back to satisfaction,
And make love intoxicated with your sweet desire:
But Dido, who now holds him so dear,
Will die from the mere news of his death:
But time will change her happiness,
And shape her mind towards new fantasies:
Oh God of heaven, turn the hand of fate
Towards that happy day of my delight,
And then, what then? Iarbus shall simply love:
He does so now, though not with equal gain,
That rests in the rival of your pain,
Who will never cease to soar until he is slain. Exit.

The storm. Enter Aeneas and Dido in the cave at different times.

Dido. Aeneas.

Æn. Dido.

Dido. Tell me, my dear love, how did you discover this cave?

Æn. By chance, sweet Queen, as Mars and Venus met.

Dido. Why, that was in a net, where we are free, And yet I am not free, oh how I wish I were.

Æn. Why, what is it that Dido could want And not get, if it’s within human ability?

Dido. The thing that I will do before I ask, And yet want to have before I die.

Æn. What can Æneas achieve?

Dido. Æneas no, even though his eyes do pierce.

Æn. What, has Iarbus offended her in any way? And will she take revenge on his life?

Dido. I haven't gotten angry, except when it comes to angering you.

Æn. Who could possibly be so cruel As to keep your gaze fixed on his flaws?

Dido. The man I see wherever I go, Whose passionate face sparkles like fire, When he shines his light on Flora's bed, Prometheus has taken the form of Cupid, And I have to perish in his burning arms: Æneas, O Æneas, put out these flames.

Æn. What’s wrong with my queen? Has she fallen ill recently?

Dido. I'm not sick with love, but I have to hide the pain that doesn't help to reveal; and still I'll speak, and still I'll keep quiet. Do your worst to shame me, I will share my sorrow: Æneas, it's you, what did I say? It was something that I've now forgotten.

Æn. What does beautiful Dido mean by this uncertain statement?

Dido. No, nothing, but Aeneas doesn’t love me.

Æn. Aeneas' thoughts can't reach as high As Dido's heart, which monarchs could never reach.

Dido. It was because I saw no king like you,
Whose golden crown could match my happiness:
But now that I’ve found what I want to achieve,
I choose to follow someone who loves fame more than me,
And would rather appear beautiful in the eyes of Sirens,
Than be the Carthage queen who dies for him.

Æn. If your majesty can look so low,
As my unappreciated worth, which avoids all praise,
With this hand, I give you my heart,
And vow by all the gods of hospitality,
By heaven and earth, and my fair brother's bow,
By Paphos, Capys, and the purple sea,
From where my radiant mother came,
And by this sword that saved me from the Greeks,
Never to leave these newly built walls,
While Dido lives and rules in Iuno's town,
Never to like or love anyone but her.

Dido. What more Delian music do I hear,
That calls my soul from its living seat,
To move to the rhythms of delight:
Kind clouds that sent forth such a generous storm,
That made disdain fly to the lap of fantasy:
Brave love in my arms, make your Italy,
Whose crown and kingdom are at your command.
Sicheus, not Æneas, be called:
The King of Carthage, not Anchises' son:
Here, take these jewels from your lover's hand,
These golden bracelets, and this wedding ring,
With which my husband courted me when I was still a maid,
And be you king of Libya, by my gift.

Exit to the cave.

Act 4, Scene 1.

Enter Achates, Ascanius, Iarbus, and Anna.

Acha. Have any men ever seen such a sudden storm? Or a day so clear suddenly turn dark?

Iar. I think some wicked enchantress lives here,
Who can summon them whenever she wants,
And dive into the dark storm’s treasure,
Whenever she means to cover the world with clouds.

Anna. In all my life, I have never seen anything like this; it hailed, it snowed, and it thundered all at once.

Acha. I think it was the devil's reveling night,
There was such chaos in the heavens:
Surely Apollo's axle is cracked,
Or old Atlas's shoulder is out of joint,
The movement was so violent.

Iar. In all this chaos, where have you left the Queen?

Asca. No, do you know where my battle-ready father is?

Anna. Look, here they both come out of the cave.

Iar. Come out of the cave: can heaven really stand this sight?
Iarbus, curse that unforgiving Jove,
Whose cruel darts lay dormant in Tiphous's den,
While these cheaters indulged in sin:
Nature, why didn't you make me some poisonous beast,
So that with the sharpness of my stinging bite,
I could have pierced them both into the ground,
While they were having fun in this dark cave?

Æn. The air is clear, and southern winds are light, Come Dido, let's hurry to the town, Since gloomy Æolus has stopped frowning.

Dido. Achates and Ascanius, nice to see you.

Æn. Hey Anna, how did you escape from the shower?

Anna. Like everyone else, by running to the woods.

Dido. But where have you been Iarbus this whole time?

Iar. Not with Aeneas in the ugly cave.

Dido. I see Æneas is stuck in your mind, But I will soon get rid of that obstacle, And crush those hopes that are keeping you worried. Exeunt.

Iarbus enters to sacrifice.

Iar. Come on, servants, bring forth the sacrifice,
So I can appease that gloomy Jove,
Whose empty altars have increased our troubles.
Eternal Jove, great master of the clouds,
Father of joy and all cheerful thoughts,
Who with your somber hand corrects the heavens,
When winged creatures fight among themselves:
Hear, hear, O hear Iarbus pleading prayers,
Whose dreadful echoes make the sky howl,
And all the woods Eliza to resonate:
The woman you commanded us to entertain,
Who wandered through our borders up and down,
Asking for a piece of land to build a town,
With whom we divided both laws and land,
And all the fruits that abundance otherwise offers,
Disregarding our loves and royal marriage rights,
Gives up her beauty to a stranger's bed,
Who, having shamed her, quickly flees:
Now, if you are a merciful God of power,
On whom pity and compassion always wait,
Set these wrongs right, and warn him to his ships,
For he now troubles me with his flattering gaze.

Anna enters.

Anna. Why are you so focused on your prayers, Iarbus?

Iar. I Anna, is there anything you want to discuss with me?

Anna. No, it's not something of great importance,
But it can be put off until later:
However, if you would share with me the reason
For this devotion that keeps you here,
I would be grateful for such kindness.

Iar. Anna, I pray against this Trojan girl, Who tries to steal your sister's love from me, And sneak into her heart with pretty looks.

Anna. Poor King, who works so hard for nothing.
For her who takes pleasure in your suffering:
Listen to me, and find another love,
Whose open heart might give you more comfort.

Iar. My gaze is fixed where imagination can't go,
Oh leave me, leave me to my quiet thoughts,
That keep track of my pain,
And I will either move the unfeeling stone,
Or cry so much that I’ll lose both my eyes in tears,
Before my sorrow has any end.

Anna. I won't leave Iarbus, the one I love, In this joy of dying longing: Forget Dido, Anna be your song, Anna who admires you more than anything.

Iar. I won’t and can’t listen to such awful change,
That interrupts the path of my desire:
Servants, come take these empty vessels away,
Because I’ll run from these tempting eyes,
That chase my peace wherever it goes. Exit.

Anna. Iarbus stay, loving Iarbus stay,
For I have honey to give you:
Cold-hearted, you won’t even bother to listen to me,
I’ll follow you with my cries no matter what,
And scatter my loose hair along your path. Exit.

Enter Aeneas alone.

Aeneas, Carthage, my kind host, goodbye, Since fate is calling me from the shore: Hermes came to me in a dream last night, Summoning me to fruitful Italy: Jupiter wills it, my mother wills it: Let my Penelope approve, and then I’ll go: Whether she agrees or not, Aeneas must leave, Whose bright future, weighed down by luxury, Cannot rise to Fame's immortal home, Or feast in the bright hall of honor, Until he has plowed Neptune's glassy fields, And carved a path through his towering hills: Achates, come out, Sergestus, Illioneus, Cloanthus, hurry, Aeneas is calling.

Enter Achates, Cloanthus, Sergestus, and Illioneus.

Acha. What does our Lord want, or why did he call?

Æn. The dreams (bold companions) that surrounded my bed,
When sleep had just embraced the night,
Command me to leave these unrenowned rays,
Where nobility refuses to linger,
And only the lowly Æneas will stay:
Set sail, set sail, since fate commands us to leave,
And cut through the sea with dark-colored ships,
On which the swift winds may wait all day,
And follow them like foot soldiers through the deep:
Yet Dido casts her gaze like anchors out,
To keep my fleet from setting out into the bay:
Come back, come back, I hear her cry from afar,
And let me join my body to my lips,
So that tied together by our struggling tongues,
We may sail as one into Italy.

Acha. Remove that tempting woman from your thoughts,
And follow your guiding stars in everything;
This is no life for soldiers to lead,
Where flirting drains a warrior’s strength,
And the seductive moves of enticing eyes,
Weaken our minds trained for battle.

Illio. Why don't we build our own city,
And not just hang around here for flirtatious glances:
Will Dido bring old Priam back from the grave,
And rebuild the town the Greeks burned down?
No, she doesn't care if we sink or swim,
As long as she can have Æneas in her arms.

Cloan. To Italy, dear friends to Italy, We won't stay here a moment longer.

Æn. Trojans aboard, and I'm going to follow you,
I really want to go, but beauty pulls me back:
Leaving her like this without saying goodbye,
Would be to violate all the laws of love:
But if I offer such polite thanks,
Like parting friends do on the shore,
Her arms will wrap around me,
And tears like pearls will cry, “Stay, Æneas, stay:”
Every word she says will feel like a crown,
And every conversation will end with a kiss:
I can't handle this emotional struggle,
To the sea Æneas, find Italy. Exit.

Enter Dido and Anna.

Dido. O Anna, run to the water’s edge,
They say Æneas’ men are getting on board,
He might sneak away with them:
Don’t stop to answer me, run Anna, run.
O foolish Trojans who would sneak off from here,
And not let Dido know what they’re planning:
I would have given Achates a lot of gold,
And Illioneus gum and Libyan spices,
The common soldiers richly embroidered coats,
And silver whistles to control the winds,
Which Circe sent Sicheus when he was alive:
They are unworthy of a queen's reward:
Look, here they come, how can I scold them?

Anna enters with Aeneas, Achates, Illioneus, and Sergestus.

Anna. It was time to run, Æneas had left, The sails were going up, and he was on board.

Dido. Is this your love for me?

Æn. O noble Dido, allow me to speak, I went to say my goodbye to Achates.

Dido. Why does Achates ask me not to say goodbye?

Acha. Because I feared you would keep me here.

Dido. To clear up your doubt, get back on board, I insist you set sail and don’t linger here.

Acha. Then let Æneas join us.

Dido. Get on board, Æneas intends to stay.

Æn. The sea is rough, and the winds are blowing toward the shore.

Dido. Oh, deceitful Æneas, now the sea is rough, But when you were on board, it was calm enough, You and Achates planned to sail away.

Æn. Does the Queen of Carthage not have my only son? Does Dido really think I'm going to leave him here?

Dido. Aeneas, forgive me for forgetting
That young Ascanius stayed with me tonight:
Love made me jealous, but to make it right,
Wear the imperial crown of Libya,
Rule with the Punic scepter in my place,
And punish me, Aeneas, for this mistake.

This kiss shall be fair Dido's punishment.

Dido. Oh, how a crown suits Æneas! Stay here Æneas, and rule as king.

Æn. How foolish am I to wear this crown,
And hold this golden scepter in my hand?
A steel helmet, not a crown,
A sword, not a scepter suits Æneas.

Dido. Oh, keep them nearby, and let me stare as much as I want:
Now Æneas looks like immortal Jove,
Oh, where is Ganymede to hold his cup,
And Mercury to rush off for what he wants,
Ten thousand Cupids hover in the air,
And fan Æneas's lovely face,
Oh, if only the clouds were here where you escape,
So that you and I, unseen, could have our fun:
Heaven, jealous of our joys, has turned pale,
And when we whisper, the stars fall down,
To share in our sweet conversation.

Aeneid. O Dido, guardian of all our lives,
When I leave you, let death be my punishment,
Let the seas rage, let unpredictable fates frown,
Blow winds, threaten the rocks and sandy shores,
This is the harbor that Aeneas seeks,
Let's see what storms can bother me now.

Dido. Not everyone in the world can take you from my arms,
Æneas might command as many Moors,
As there are tiny drops of water in the sea:
And now to prove my love,
Fair sister Anna, lead my lover out,
And seated on my mare, let him ride
As Dido’s husband through the Punic streets,
And I’ll have my guard with Mauritanian darts,
To wait on him as their sovereign Lord.

Anna. What if the citizens complain about that?

Dido. Those who don’t like what Dido commands,
Order my guards to kill for their offense:
Should common peasants complain about what I do?
The land that provides them with food is mine,
The air they breathe, the water, and fire,
Everything they have, their land, their possessions, their lives,
And I, the goddess of all these, command
Æneas to rule as the King of Carthage.

Acha. Aeneas deserves as large a kingdom as Libya for his noble heritage.

Æn. I, unless the fates are lying, I will be settled in a land just as rich.

Dido. Don’t talk about any other land, this land is yours, Dido is yours, from now on I’ll call you Lord: Do as I ask you, sister, lead the way, And from a tower, I’ll watch over my love.

Aeneid. Then here in me shall thrive Priam's lineage,
And you and I Achates, for revenge,
For Troy, for Priam, for his fifty sons,
Our relatives' loves, and a thousand innocent souls,
Will lead an army against the hateful Greeks,
And set proud Lacedemon ablaze above their heads. Exit.

Dido. Doesn’t Æneas speak like a conqueror?
Oh, blessed storms that brought him here,
Oh, happy sand that caused his ship to run aground:
From now on, you shall be our Carthage gods:
But I worry he will leave my love,
And seek a foreign land called Italy:
Oh, if only I had a charm to keep the winds
Trapped within a golden ball,
Or if the Tyrrhenian sea were in my arms,
So he might shipwreck on my chest,
Every time he tries to hoist the sails:
I must stop him; wishing won’t be enough:
Go, tell my nurse to take young Ascanius,
And take him to her house in the countryside,
Æneas won’t leave without his son:
But just in case he does, because I’m so afraid,
Bring me his oars, his gear, and his sails;
What if I sink his ships? Oh, he’ll frown.
Better he frown than I should die of grief:
I can’t bear to see him frown; it must not happen:
Armies of enemies determined to take this town,
Or traitors intent on taking my life,
Don’t frighten me; only Æneas’ frown
Is what terrifies poor Dido’s heart:
Neither bloody spears appearing in the air,
Foretell the downfall of my empire,
Nor blazing comets threaten Dido’s death,
It’s Æneas’ frown that will end my days:
If he doesn’t forsake me, I will never die,
For in his gaze, I see eternity,
And he’ll make me immortal with a kiss.

Enter a noble.

Your nurse is gone with young Ascanius,
And here’s Æneas handling oars and sails.

Dido. Are these the sails that, despite me,
Packaged with the winds, are taking Aeneas away?
I'll hang them in the room where I lie,
Try if you can to drive my house to Italy:
I'll open the window so the winds
Can come in and once again conspire
Against the life of me, poor queen of Carthage:
But even if he goes, he stays in Carthage still,
And let rich Carthage sail across the seas,
As long as I can have Aeneas in my arms.
Is this the wood that grew in Carthage's plains,
And would be struggling in the watery waves,
To rob their mistress of her Trojan guest?
O cursed tree, if only you had wit or sense,
To understand how much I value Aeneas' love,
You would have leapt from the sailors' hands,
And told me that Aeneas meant to leave:
And yet I don’t blame you, you’re just wood.
The water that our poets call a Nymph,
Why did it let you touch her breast,
And not pull back, knowing my love was there?
The water is just an element, not a Nymph,
Why should I blame Aeneas for his escape?
O Dido, don’t blame him, but break his oars,
These were the instruments that launched him forth,
There’s not even this base tackle that
Doesn’t bring sorrow to my heart:
Was it not you that raised these sails?
Why didn’t you burst as they fell into the sea?
For this will Dido tie you full of knots,
And sheer you all apart with her hands:
Now serve to punish shipboys for their mistakes,
You shall no longer offend the queen of Carthage,
Now let him hang my tokens on his masts,
And see if those will serve instead of sails:
For tackle, 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 safe:
Come, take them in. Exit.

Enter the Nurse with Cupid for Ascanius.

Nurse. My Lord Ascanius, you have to come with me.

Cupid. Where should I go? I'll stay with my mother.

Nurse. No, you should come with me to my house,
I have an orchard filled with plums,
Brown almonds, serviceberries, ripe figs and dates,
Dewberries, apples, yellow oranges,
A garden with beehives full of honey,
Musk roses, and a thousand different flowers,
And in the middle runs a silver stream,
Where you'll see red-gilded fish leap,
White swans, and many lovely waterfowl:
Now speak Ascanius, will you come or not?

Cupid. Come on, I'll go. How far is your house from here?

Nurse. But don't worry, child, we'll get there right away.

Cupid. Nurse, I'm tired. Will you carry me?

Nurse. I'll live with you and you'll call me mom.

Cupid. So you'll love me, I don't care if I do.

Nurse. I hope I live to see this boy grow up to be a man,
Look how charmingly he laughs, you little rascal,
You’ll be quite the charmer when you’re grown.
No matter what Dido says, I’m not old,
I won’t stay a widow, I’m still young,
I’ll have a husband, or else a lover.

Cupid. A husband without teeth!

Nurse. Oh, what am I doing thinking such silly thoughts!
Love is foolish, just a distraction, oh sacred love,
If there's any heaven on earth, it’s love:
Especially in women your age.
Blush, blush for shame, why would you think of love?
A grave, not a lover, suits your age:
A grave? Why? I could live for a hundred years,
Eighty is just a girl's age, love is sweet:
My veins are dry, and my muscles feel weak,
Why am I thinking of love when I should be dying?

Cupid. Come, Nurse.

Nurse. Well, if he comes to court her, he’ll succeed. Oh, how foolish was I to refuse him! Exeunt.

Act 5.

Enter Aeneas with a paper in his hand, sketching the layout of the city, accompanied by Achates, Cloanthus, and Ilioneus.

Æn. Celebrate, my friends, our journey is over,
Here, Æneas will build a grander Troy,
Than the one that the fierce Atrides brought down:
Carthage will no longer boast of her small walls,
Because I will adorn them with a more beautiful structure,
And dress her in a crystal garment,
Where the day will always find joy:
From golden India Ganges, I will fetch,
Whose wealthy streams will flow around her towers,
And surround her in a triple defense:
The Sun from Egypt will bring rich scents,
With his scorching rays working like busy bees,
That load their thighs with Hyblas honey's treasures,
Shall here unload their sweet fragrances,
And fill our lovely suburbs with their aromas.

Acha. How long and wide will this great town be?

Æn. No more than four thousand steps at most.

Illio. But what should we call it, Troy like before?

Æn. I haven't decided that for myself.

Cloan. Let it be called Ænea in your name.

Serg. Rather Ascania by your little son.

Æn. No, I want it called Anchisaon, after my father's name.

Enter Hermes with Ascanius.

Hermes. Æneas stay, Jupiter's Herald bids you stay.

Æn. Who do I see, Jupiter's winged messenger? Welcome to Carthage, the newly built town.

Hermes. Why, cousin, are you busy building cities here,
And beautifying the empire of this queen,
While Italy is completely out of your mind?
You’re too forgetful of your own affairs,
Why are you betraying your son’s good fortune?
The king of the gods sent me from the highest heaven,
To deliver this angry message to you.
Foolish man, what monarchy do you expect here?
Or with what thoughts do you sleep on Libya's shore?
If all glory has abandoned you,
And you despise the praise of such efforts:
Even so, think about Ascanius' prophecy,
And young Iulus more than a thousand years,
Whom I brought from Ida where he slept,
And took young Cupid to Cypress Isle.

Æn. This was my mother who deceived the Queen,
And made me think my brother was my son:
No wonder Dido that you are in love,
With Cupid dancing in your arms every day:
Welcome, sweet child, where have you been all this time?

Asca. Eating sweet Comfites with Queen Dido's maid, Who has been cradling me in her arms ever since.

Æn. Sergestus, take him away to our ships, So that Dido doesn’t spot him and hold him as a hostage.

Hermes. Are you wasting your time with this little boy,
And not paying attention to the task I gave you?
I’m telling you, you need to head straight to Italy,
Or else face the anger of a displeased Jove.

Æn. How can I navigate the raging deep,
When I have no sails or gear for my ships?
What do the Gods want me, Deucalion, to do,
Drift up and down wherever the waves carry me?
Though she fixed my fleet and provided me with ships,
She has taken away my oars and masts,
And left me with neither sail nor rudder aboard.

Enter to Iarbus.

Iar. What's wrong, Æneas? Why the long face?

Æn. Iarbus, I’m completely beside myself, Jupiter has piled on me such a seemingly impossible task, Which neither skill nor logic can overcome, Nor can I figure out how to manage it.

Iar. As I pray, I ask you to tell me.

Æn. He quickly tells me to set sail for Italy. But I lack both the equipment for my fleet And the supplies for my crew.

Iar. If that’s all there is, then lift your spirits,
Because I’ll make sure you have what you need:
Let some of your followers come with me,
And they’ll bring whatever you require.

Æn. Thanks to good Iarbus for your friendly help, Achates and the others will wait on you, While I remain grateful for this kindness.

Exit Iarbus and Æneas' entourage.

Now I will hurry to the Lauinian shore,
And build a new foundation for old Troy,
Witness the Gods, and witness heaven and earth,
How reluctant I am to leave these Libian borders,
But that eternal Jupiter commands.

Enter Dido and Aeneas.

Dido. I think I saw Æneas' little son,
Being led by Achates to the Trojan fleet:
If that's the case, his father plans to leave:
But here he is, now Dido, try your skills.
Æneas, why are your men going aboard?
Why are your ships newly rigged? What's the plan
For launching from the harbor and lying in the road?
Forgive me for asking, love makes me curious.

Æn. Oh, forgive me for telling you why: Æneas won't fake it with his dear love, I have to leave here. Today, fast Mercury, when I was preparing the foundation for these walls, appeared to me, sent by his father Jupiter, and in his name scolded me harshly for delaying here and neglecting Italy.

Dido. But still Æneas won't leave his love.

Æn. I have been ordered by immortal Jupiter, To leave this town and go to Italy, And so I must, with no choice.

Dido. These words do not come from Æneas' heart.

Æn. Not from my heart, because I can barely move, And yet I can't stay, Dido goodbye.

Dido. Goodbye: is this how you repay Dido's love?
Do Trojans usually leave their lovers like this?
Goodbye, Dido, if only Aeneas would stay,
I will die if my Aeneas says farewell.

Æn. Then let me go and never say goodbye, Let me go, goodbye, I must leave here.

Dido. These words are poison to poor Dido’s soul,
Oh, speak like my Æneas, like my love:
Why are you looking toward the sea? There was a time
When Dido’s beauty changed your eyes to hers;
Am I less beautiful than when you first saw me?
Oh then Æneas, it’s because of my grief for you:
Say you’ll stay in Carthage with my queen,
And Dido’s beauty will return again:
Æneas, tell me, how can you say goodbye?
Will you kiss Dido? Oh, your lips have sworn
To stay with Dido: can you take her hand?
Your hand and mine have pledged mutual faith,
So unkind Æneas, must you say,
Then let me go, and never say farewell.

Æn. O Queen of Carthage, even if you were ugly and black, Æneas couldn't help but cherish you, But he cannot go against the will of the Gods.

Dido. What gods are these that want me dead?
What have I done to Jupiter,
That he would take Aeneas from my arms?
Oh no, the gods don’t understand what lovers do,
It is Aeneas who calls Aeneas away,
And poor Dido with these tear-streaked cheeks,
By this right hand, and by our wedding vows,
Wants Aeneas to stay with her:
If I have deserved anything good from you, or if you had any
Sweetness for me, have mercy on this crumbling house: & I beg you,
If there’s any room for my prayers, take off that cruel mindset.

Stop trying to set me on fire with your complaints; I'm not following Italy voluntarily.

Dido. Have you forgotten how many neighboring kings
Were up in arms, trying to win your love?
How Carthage revolted, and Iarbus raged,
And the whole world calls me a second Helen,
For being caught up by a stranger's looks:
You'd prove as faithful as Paris did,
And just like beautiful Troy was, Carthage might be destroyed,
And I would be called a second Helena.
If I had a son by you, the grief would be less,
Because I could see Æneas in his face:
Now if you leave, what can you leave behind,
But that which will only add to my pain?

Æn. It's pointless for you to waste your breath on love, If words could move me, I'd be defeated.

Dido. And won’t you be moved by Dido's words?
Your mother was no goddess, deceitful man,
Nor Dardanus, the founder of your lineage:
But you come from the Scythian Caucasus,
And the tigers of Hircania nursed you:
Ah, foolish Dido to hold back for so long!
Weren’t you wrecked on this Libyan shore,
And did you come to Dido like a fisherman?
Didn’t I repair your ships, make you a king,
And all your needy followers noblemen?
O serpent that came creeping from the shore,
And I, out of pity, sheltered you in my bosom,
Will you now kill me with your venomous sting,
And hiss at Dido for saving you?
Go, go and don't hold back, seek out Italy,
I hope that what love prevents me from doing,
The rocks and sea shall fulfill extensively,
And you will perish in the waves,
To whom poor Dido bequeaths revenge,
I, the traitor, and the waves will cast you up,
Where you and false Achates first set foot:
And if it happens, I’ll give you a burial,
And weep over your lifeless bodies,
Though you nor he will pity me at all.
Why do you stare at me? If you will stay,
Jump into my arms; my arms are wide open:
If not, turn away from me, and I’ll turn from you;
For though you have the heart to say farewell,
I don’t have the power to stop you: is he gone?
But he’ll come back again; he can’t leave,
He loves me too much to treat me this way:
Yet he who wouldn’t relent in my sight,
Will remain stubborn when he’s away.
By now, he’s reached the water’s edge,
And look, the sailors are taking him by the hand,
But he shrinks back, and now remembering me,
He returns again: welcome, welcome, my love:
But where is Æneas? Ah, he’s gone, he’s gone!

Anna. What does my sister mean by shouting and crying like this?

Dido. Oh Anna, my Æneas is on board,
And leaving me, he will sail to Italy.
Once you went, and he returned,
Now bring him back, and you will be a queen,
And I will live a private life with him.

Anna. Evil Æneas.

Dido. Don’t call him wicked, sister; speak nicely to him,
And look at him with a mermaid’s gaze,
Tell him, I never vowed at the Aulis gulf
To bring destruction to his home, Troy,
Nor sent a thousand ships to its walls,
Nor ever broke my promise to him:
Gently ask him (Anna) to come back,
All I ask is that he stays for a tide or two,
So I can learn to handle it patiently,
If he leaves this way, I’ll die:
Run, Anna, run; don’t stop to answer me.

Anna. I'm doing well, sister; may heaven grant us good luck.

Anna exits.

Nurse enters.

Nurse. Oh Dido, your little son Ascanius
Is gone! He slept with me last night,
And in the morning he was taken from me,
I think some fairies have tricked me.

Dido. O cursed witch and deceitful wretch!
You slay me with your harsh and hellish story,
You let him go for some petty gift,
And now I’m left deceived about my boy:
Take her away to prison now,
Traitor too clever and cursed Sorceress.

Nurse. I don't know what you mean by treason; I'm as loyal as anyone. Exeunt the Nurse.

Dido. Get her away, don't let her talk. My sister is coming, and I don't like the look on her face.

Enter Anna.

Anna. Before I arrived, Æneas was on board,
And spotted me, quickly hoisting the sails:
But I shouted, Æneas, false Æneas, wait!
Then he waved his hand, which he still held up,
Making me think he would listen to me:
Then they plunged into the ocean,
When I saw this, I yelled, Æneas, wait,
Dido, beautiful Dido, wants Æneas to stay:
Yet he, with a heart of stone or flint,
My tears and pleas could not soften at all:
Then carelessly I tore my hair in grief,
Which everyone saw, even though he did not:
They began to urge him to alleviate my sorrow,
And stay for a moment to hear what I had to say,
But he shut the hatches and sailed away.

Dido. O Anna, Anna, I’ll follow him.

Anna. How can you go when he has your entire fleet?

Dido. I'll make myself wings of wax like Icarus,
And soar over his ships toward the sun,
So that they can melt and I'll fall into his arms:
Or else I'll pray to the waves,
That I can swim to him like Triton’s niece:
Oh Anna, get Orion’s harp,
So I can lure a dolphin to the shore,
And ride on his back to my love:
Look sister, look at lovely Aeneas' ships,
See, see, the waves lift him up to heaven,
And now the keels are sinking into the deep:
Oh sister, sister, clear away the rocks,
They'll break his ships, oh Proteus, Neptune, Jupiter,
Save, save Aeneas, Dido’s dearest love!
Now he has come ashore safely and unharmed:
But look, Achates wants him to set sail again,
And all the sailors celebrate with joy,
But he, remembering me, hesitates again:
Look, here he comes, welcome, welcome my love.

Anna. Oh sister, stop these pointless daydreams, Dear sister, please, remember who you are.

Dido. Dido that’s who I am, unless I’m mistaken,
And must I go crazy like this for a traitor?
Do I really have to build ships for him to sail away?
Nothing can get me to him except a ship,
And he has all your fleet, what should I do?
Should I just die in the rage of this oversight?
I guess I have to be the cause of my own death:
No, but I’m not, yet I will be soon.
Anna be happy, now I’ve found a way
To free myself from these crazy thoughts:
Not far from here there’s a woman known for her skills,
Daughter of the nymphs Hesperides,
Who told me to sacrifice his precious relics:
Go Anna, tell my servants to bring me fire. Exit Anna.

Enter Iarbus.

Iar. How long will Dido mourn a stranger's departure,
That has dishonored her and Carthage both?
How long will I spend my days in grief,
And get no reward for my truest love?

Dido. Iarbus, don’t talk about Æneas, just let him go,
Get to work and help me make a fire,
That will burn everything this stranger left behind,
Because I intend to hold a private sacrifice,
To heal my heart that’s breaking from unreturned love.

Iar. But will Dido love me afterwards?

Dido. I, I, Iarbus, once this is done,
No one in the world will have my love but you:
So, leave me now, let no one come near this place. Exit Iarbus.
Now Dido, with these remains, burn yourself,
And make Æneas famous throughout the world,
For his betrayal and the killing of a queen:
Here lies the sword that in the dark cave
He drew and swore by to be true to me,
You will burn first, your crime is worse than his:
Here lies the garment I clothed him in,
When he first came ashore, perish you too:
These letters, lines, and perjured papers all,
Shall turn to cinders in this precious flame.
And now, you gods who guide the starry heavens,
And order all things at your high command;
Grant, even though the traitor lands in Italy,
They may remain tormented by unrest,
And from my ashes let a conqueror rise,
Who will avenge this treason against a queen,
By laying waste to his country with the sword:
Between this land and that, let there never be peace,
Littora littoribus contraria, fluctibus undas
Impresor: arma armis: pugnent ipsig nepotes:
Live false Æneas, truest Dido dies,
Sic sic inuat ire sub umbras.

Anna enters.

Anna. Oh help Iarbus, Dido has burned herself in these flames, oh no, wretched me!

Iarbus runs in.

Iar. Cursed Iarbus, dye to atone For the grief that weighs on your inner soul, Dido, I come to you, alas Æneas.

Anna. What’s the point of my tears or cries now?
Dido is dead, Iarbus is killed, Iarbus, my dear love,
O sweet Iarbus, Anna’s only joy,
What terrible fate is making me suffer like this,
To see my sweet Iarbus take his own life?
But Anna will honor you in death,
And mix her blood with yours, this I will do,
So that gods and humans may pity my death,
And mourn our ends, senseless of life or breath;
Now sweet Iarbus, wait, I'm coming to you.