IARBAS

Why, what are you, or wherefore do you sew? But tell me Trojans, Trojans if you be, Unto what fruitful quarters were you bound, Before that Boreas buckled with your sails? Brave men at arms, abandon fruitless fears, Since Carthage knows to entertain distress. My self will see they shall not trouble you, Your men and you shall banquet in our Court, And every Trojan be as welcome here, As Jupiter to silly Vam sis house: Come in with me, I'll bring you to my Queen, Who shall confirm my words with further deeds. How God Aeneas to the fleet again? How long fair Dido shall I pine for thee? 'Tis not enough that thou dost grant me love, But that I may enjoy what I desire: That love is childish which consists in words. But Dido is the favour I request. Come Dido, leave Ascanius, let us walk. Ungentle Queen, is this thy love to me? Jarbus die, seeing she abandons thee. Am I not King of rich Getulia? I go to feed the humour of my Love, Yet not from Carthage for a thousand world's. Does Dido call me back? Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me die. Exit Jarb. Ungentle, can she wrong Jarbus so? I'll die before a stranger have that grace: We two will talk alone, what words be these? Why man of Troy, do I offend thine eyes? Or art thou grieude thy betters press so nigh? Women may wrong by privilege of love: But should that man of men ( Dido except) Have taunted me in these opprobrious terms, I would have either drunk his dying blood, Or else I would have given my life in gage? And might I live to see thee shipped away, And hoist aloft on Neptune's hideous hills, Then would I wish me in fair Didos arms, And dead to S one that hath pursued me so. I, this it is which wounds me to the death, To see a Phrigian far set to the sea, Preferred before a man of majesty's Oh love, Oh hate, Oh cruel women's hearts, That imitate the Moon in every change. And Like the Planets ever love to range: What shall I do that wronged with disdain? Revenge me on Aeneas or on her: On her? found man, that were to war gainst heaven, And with one shaft provoke ten thousand darts: This Trojans end will be thy envies aim, Whose blood will reconcile thee to content, And make love drunken with thy sweet desire: But Dido that now holds him so deer, Will die with very tidings of his death: But time will discontinue her content, And mould her mind unto new fancies shapes: Oh God of heaven, turn the hand of fate Unto that happy day of my delight, And then, what then? Jarbus shall but love: So does he now, though not with equal gain, That rests in the rival of thy pain, Who never will cease to foare till he be slain. Exit. I think some fell Enchantress dwells here, That can call them forth when as she please, And dive into black tempests treasury, When as she means to mask the world with clouds. In all this coil, where have you left the Queen? Come forth the Cave: can heaven endure this sighed? Jarbus, curse that unrevenging Jove, Whose flinty darts slept in Tiphous den, While these adulterors surfeited with sin: Nature, why madest me not some poisonous beast, That with the sharpness of my edged sting, I might have stakte them both unto the earth, Whilst they were sporting in this darksome Cave? Not with Aeneas in the ugly Cave. Come servants, come bring forth the Sacrifice, That I may pacify that gloomy Jove, Whose empty Altars have enlarged our illes. Eternal Jove, great master of the Clouds, Father of gladness, and all frolic thoughts, That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven, When airy creatures war amongst themselves: Hear, hear, Oh hear Jarbus plaining prayers, Whose hideous echos make the welkin howl, And all the woods Eliza to resound: The woman that thou wild us entertain, Where straying in our borders up and down, She craved a hide of ground to built a town, With whom we did divide both laws and land, And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth, Scorning our loves and royal marriage rites, Yields up her beauty to a strangers bed, Who having wrought her shame, is straight way fled: Now if thou be'st a pitying God of power, On whom ruth and compassion ever waits, Redress these wrongs, and warn him to his ships, That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes. I Anna, is there ought you would with me? Anna, against this Trojan do I pray, Who seeks to rob me of thy Sisters love, And dive into her heart by coloured looks. Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start, Oh leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts, That register the numbers of my ruth, And I will either move the thoughtles flint, Or drop out both mine eyes in drisling tears, Before my sorrows tide have any stint. I may nor will list to such loathsome change, That intercepts the course of my desire: Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here, For I will fly from these alluring eyes, That do pursue my peace where ere it goes. Exit. How now Aeneas, sad, what means these dumps? As how I pray, may I entreat you tell. If that be all, then cheer thy drooping looks, For I will furnish thee with such supplies: Let some of those thy followers go with me, And they shall have what thing so ere thou needest. How long will Dido mourn a strangers flight, That hath dishonord her and Carthage both? How long shall I with grief consume my days, And reap no guerdon for my truest love? But afterwards will Dido grant me love? Cursed Jarbus, die to expiate The grief that tires upon thine inward soul, Dido I come to thee, aye me Aeneas.