 | Dido |  |
SCENE XIX.
Dido, Osmidas, Selene.Osm.
Yield, Dido, to Iarbas.
Sel.
With thy own
Preserve our lives.
Did.
Even yet I would consent
To breathe the vital air, could I repay
My wrongs on false Æneas—first the cause
Of all I suffer—May the raging winds
And angry Gods at least complete my vengeance!
May lightning, thunder, storms and whirlwinds make
The seas his grave—or let him wander far
Forlorn and friendless—such his wretched fate,
That he, in bitterest pangs, shall envy mine!
Sel.
Ah! calm thy angry soul: I love him too,
300
Did.
Love Æneas?
Sel.
Alas! too true—but for thy sake—
Did.
Thou traitress!
The rival of my love?
Sel.
But though thy rival,
Thou hast no cause—
Did.
Fly hence!—avoid my sight,
Nor add new pangs to madness and despair.
Sel.
Unhappy queen! to what has fate reserv'd thee!
[Exit.
| Dido | |