The works of Sir William Mure of Rowallan :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ising Aeneas fortunes, whil on fyr
Of dying Troy he takes his last farewell;
Queen Didoe's love, and cruell Junoe's ire
With equall fervor which he both doth feell.
Path'd wayes I trace, as Theseus in his neid,
Conducted by a loyall virgin's threid.

But pardon! Maro, if myn infant muse
(To twyse two lustres scarce of ȝeirs attained),
Such task to treat (vnwisely bold), doth choose,
As thy sweit voyce hath earst divinly strained.
And in grave numbers of bewitching verse
Ravisht with wonder all the vniverse.

Rap't with delight of thy mellifluous phrase,
Thy divine discant, and harmonious layes,
Whose sugg'red accords, (which thy worth do blaze),
The hearers' senses, at thair ears betrayes.
O then I stowp as one in airt too shallow
Thy never matched monarch muse to follow.

But, ravisht with a vehement desyre,
Those paths to trace which ȝeilds ane endles name,
By the, to climb Parnassus I aspyre,
And by thy feathers to impen my fame:
Nothing asham'd thir colours to display,
Vnder thy conduct as my first assay.

Sacred Apollo! Lend thy Cynthia light,
Which by thy gloriows rayes reflexe doth shyne,
That I, partaking of thy purest spright,
May grave (anew) on tyme's immortall shryne,
In homely stile, those sweit deliciows ayrs
In which thy Muse admirable appears.

And ȝe Pierian maids! ȝe sacred nyne!
Which haunt Parnassus and the Pegas spring,
Infuse ȝour furie in my weak ingyne,
That (mask'd with Maro) sweetly I may sing,
And warble foorth this Hero's changing state,
Eliza's love, and last, her tragick fate.

Now bloody warre, (the mistres of debait,
Attendit still with discorde, death, dispair;
The child of wrath, nurst by despightfull hait,
With visage pale, sterne lookes, and snaiky hair),
By Groecian armes, old Troy had beatne downe,
And rais'd the ten-ȝeirs siege from Priam's towne.

Whose brasen teeth her walls did shake asunder,
And staitly turrets levell'd with the ground;
Insulting Greeks, with fire and sword, did thunder,
And both alike the sone and syre confound,
The maid and matron, striving to compence
Fair Helen's rapt, and Paris' prowd offence.

When Venus' sone, got by Anchises great,
The noble prince Æneas re-units
His scattered forces, dissipate of laite
By Graecian furie on Troy's bloody streets,
And sweetly chearing their dejected hearts,
By sugg'red words he stryves to ease their smarts.

“Lo! (champions bold,” quoth he), “quha fyr and sword,
And thowsand dangers have with me eschewed,
Courage and comfort let my words afford
To ȝow, though now by sad mischaunce subdued.
Blind Fortune favoures oft th'ignoble parte,
But he is free keeps ane vnconquered heart.

“Banish base sorrow, raise ȝowr drowping heids.
Vertue oppressed brighter still doth blaze.
Let wonted valour, by ȝowr worthy deids,
Reconquere credit, and the world amaze;
That ritch with spoiles and praise, ȝowr prowes hie
May be renoun'd with fame and victorie.

“Learne, (noble warriours!) Fortunes storme to beir;
And let ȝowr valour be by vertue back't.
The golden sunne-shyn of her count'nance cleir
On vs againe may shyne, though Troy be sack't.
Palmes, whil prest downe, ar loathest to give place,
And Phaebus lowest showes her broadest face.

“Since heir owr countrey, by the foe possest,
And conquer'd kingdomes small content can ȝeild;
Since honour seldome is acquir'd by rest,
But wonne by awfull armes in open field:
Let vs a navie then prepair with speid
With wings displayed the seas to overspreid.

“In perill praise, in hazard honour lyes.
Hiest attempts ar worthiest of renowne.
And who do most death's bitter stroake despise,
Fortune doth such with glory soonest crowne.
Let vs resolve to suffer all assayes,
To purchase fame, or perish all with prayse.”

Thus said, their hopes half dead ar now revived;
Their troubles calm'd: his speaches so prevaill.
Their hearts of sorrow's heavie load relieved,
Off suddaine joy strange passiouns do assail;
All cry alowd: “Quhair ever thow dost leid,
We follow the, owr prince, owr guide, owr heid.”

Thair valiant chiftane speidily gives charge,
With sayles display'd, to turne their backs on Troy.
Now many a gailley, brigandine, and barge
Rid ov'r the roaring billowes; whil with joy
The Trojane fleet in armes to seas ar gone.
Great Neptune with the burthene greiv'd doth grone.

Their speedy cowrse amidst the maine they ply,
And ways vnknowen search out, twixt foame and flood.
Now scarce the soyle, with bleeding hearts, they spy,
Quhair Troy, (Rome's stately rival whilome), stood;
Whose ruines poore, which low in ashes lye,
Doth force a teare from every gaizing eye.

The pleasant plaines of Thracia then they coast,
Which doth their eyes of native land deprive,
Thence through the Ocean speedily they poast,
Till now in sight of Delos they arrive.
The Ile no sooner to their eyes appear'd,
Till thither Palinure their pilote steir'd.

Apollo there, in dark responses, told
Of things to come the ȝit-vnknowne event;
And did in dowbtsome oracles vnfold
Hid mysteries the curiows to content:
Where now arriv'd their prince setts foot on land,
His fortunes of the God to vnderstand.

“Behold!” (quoth he) “before thy sacred schrine,
Divine Apollo, the distrest estate
Of Troy's poor remnant, servants all of thine;
Brought lowe by Graecian furie, and by fate.
Show to quhat soyle owr cowrse sall be addrest,
Which after toyle in end, may ȝeild vs rest.”

“Renowned Prince! of heavinly issue sprung,”
The God replyed, “Jove doth for the provide!
Thy trophe's sall, (by after-ages sung),
In times immortall register abide.
Spread foorth thy sayles, to Italy repair;
Thow and thy race sall swey the scepter thair.”

Ravish'd with joy, with clamoures lowd they loose,
And smoothly through the silver waves do slide.
A gentle gale sweet Zephyrus bestowes,
Which streight their cowrse to Italy doth guide.
The azure face of heaven's broad looking-glasse
With cannowse wings they quickly overpasse.

But scarce the floods had ȝit depriv'd their eyes
Frome sight of shoare, and viewe of neirest land,
Quhen angrie Juno, frome the christall skyes,
Vpon ye seas the Trojane navie fand.
Her deadly hatred and deep-rooted ire
Inflams her minde, and sets her all on fire.

But say! my muse, what crime so hynows hath
Commoved the Goddes, who in furie fryes?
Showe thow the source of her vindictive wrath:
Why she this Prince so singulare envyes,
Him tosses to and fro, deprives of rest?
Are heavinly mindes with such despight possest?

The Goddes heiring that demolish'd Troy
Out of her ashes should a Phoenix raise,
A natioune fierce, who Carthage should destroy,
Her stately towres ov'rturne, and city raise;
A martiall people far and neir to reigne,
In warre invincible, so the Fates ordaine;

This towne above all others to extoll
Her native soyle at Samos Ile she leaves;
Throughout the streets her hurling chariots roll;
Her armes heir places, and great honors gives:
And heir she mindes, (if Fates do not withstand),
To found ane empire shall the world command.

His kinde she hates, which should the same supprise,
And Ganimedes rapt vpbraides her minde;
And how her beauty Paris did despise
The golden fruit to Venus who assign'd;
Which most her heart with malice doth incense,
No mends can expiat this hie offence.

Her forme disprais't ingenders such disdaine
As never female heart could ȝit forgive.
Beauty can not abide to beir a stayne,
And with a rivall doth abhorre to live.
Quhat can so loathsome be a woman told,
As say she lookes deformed, fowl, or old?

O cruell sexe! whose hate no time can change,
Nor furyowse minde with sugg'red words be meased.
As Hyrcane tigers, greedy of revenge,
Bellona[s] fury far easier is appeased.
For one man's caws no Trojane finds a shield.
Who may resist whil heavinly broode doth ȝeild?

But what strange furie thus transportes my pen,
Those creatures sweit of cruelty to taxe?
Who now-adayes do prove so kinde to men,
Apt for impression as the ȝeilding waxe.
Of this sweit sexe my muse doth pardon crave,
Which thus misledde with Juno's rage did rave.

The Trojane fleet now being vnder saile,
Whil smyling Nereus with cups is crown'd;
And mariners, glaid of the prosperows gaile,
Their chearful whisles meryly do sownd.
Enraged Juno, full of discontent,
Thus doth apairt by words her passion vent:

“Thus must I ȝeild? thus my designes forgoe?
And sall the Trojanes save arive on shoare
Maugre my will? Have Fat's ordain'd it so?
Of such a conquest justly [lose the] gloir?
By Pallas earst for Ajax caws alone
The Graecian fleet was sunk and overthro'ne.

“Devoiring flames downe from the clouds she threw,
Thunder and fireflaught, to avenge her ire.
Waves threat the skies, a fearfull tempest blew,
The rageing seas against the Greeks conspire.
Himself, with fire transfixt, against a rock
She dasht with whirlwind, quhair his corps did smoake.

“But I, first Goddes, first by birth and place,
Jove's spowse, and sister, heaven's arch-empresse great,
With one poore nation never ȝit at peace!
What do availl my dignity, my state?
Who Juno's godhead, thus contemn'd, sall feare?
Or who sall offrings on my altar reare?”

With heart inflam'd, from clouds with furie fleeing,
The Goddes at Æolia doth arive;
A land where tempests dwell, stormes have their being;
In caves inclos'd, where murm'ring winds do strive.
But Æolus, their king, with mace in hand,
Theire rage restrains, and fury doth withstand.

At such impresonement they oft, repining,
Lowd bellowing all break out, with blust'ring noyse;
But he in chaines more stoutly them confining,
Tempers their ire, and calmes their roaring voyce;
For if they were vnbridled and vnbound,
Heavens, earth, and seas they should anone confound.

The thunder great this fearing, then inclosed
In caverns dark, fast bound with brazen bands:
With hills supprest them, and a prince imposed
To let or loose their rains, as he commands;
To whom these speeches Juno fierce directed,
With gesture sad, and ey's on ground dejected:

“O Æolus! at whose imperiows word
The storms arise, and swelling seas give place;
My mortall foes, new scaip't the Graecian sword,
The Trojans crosse the seas to my disgrace.
Let louse the winds, thy rav'nows postes imploy,
Disperse their navie, and themselves destroy!

“Of all my nymphs, in beauty most excelling,
Fair Diopeia sall be thy rewarde;
Who, all her lyf in thy subjection dwelling,
The as her lord and husband sall regarde;
With the who many happy dayes sall have,
And mak the parent of a bairne-tyme brave.”

“Too many words, (great Goddes!),” he replyes,
“Are spent in vaine, thy servand to entraite.
My self, my scepter, and in me what lyes,
Boldly command to execute thy haite.
Jov's love by the I find, by the I reigne,
By thee the stormes I raise, and tempests straine.”

Butt more, him turning to the hallow hill,
With silver scepter open passage made;
The winds owt gushing heavens and earth do fill
With hiddeows noyse, none in the cave abaide:
They roar, they rush, and with a murmuring sownd,
The elements all threatne to confound.

To seas anone all furiows foorth they flew;
'Gainst East and West are Sowth and North opposed.
Waves climb the clouds, a deadly tempest blew;
Gray Proteus' flocks through foamie floods ar tossed,
Which present death to sailing Trojans threatne.
Men cry, and caibles crack by Boreas beatne.

The day grew dark, night shew her sable face,
Ane hoste of clouds did overcast the skies;
Ane mist obscure did light of day displace,
And load starre rest frome woefull sailers eyes.
With lightning flashes thund'ring heavens gave light;
Each where pale death vpbraids the Trojanes sight.

Æneas now, (sad prince), in minde dismayed,
With hands heav'd vp first having heavens implor'd:
“Thrise happy ȝe, my mates!” sore sighing say'd,
“In Troyes defence who died by Graecian sword.
O Diomedes, would to God that I,
Kill'd by thy martiall hand, at Troy did ly!

“Quhair noble Hector by Achilles spear,
And stowt Sarpedon both their breathes did ȝeild;
Whose live-lesse bodyes Simois' floods did bear
With bloody armes and many a woundit sheild.”
Thus whil apairt he speiks, a contrare blast
Doth force his saile against the trembling mast.

Now helme-les, oar-les now, the shippe doth saill;
Her ribbes do roare, her tacklings all are torne;
The tumbling billowes fast her syddes assaill,
She sinking sippes the seas, by weight downe borne.
The fleet disperst, some to the heavins are throwne,
To some the bottomes of the seas are showne.

Thus tos't with stormes, the poore remaine of Troy
Each to some speciall office him betaks:
Some sailes pull in, others the oares imploy,
Some the maine bouling hale, some tacklings slacks;
Some hold the helme, some caibles cut in twaine,
Some at the pumpe powr seas in seas againe.

But all in vaine they strive 'gainst angrie heavin;
In shallow shelves some vnawares ar cast;
Some 'gainst a rock are violently drivin;
And some in Syrtes sinking sands are fast;
Some, (being robb't of ruther, mast and oares),
With gaiping mowth the whirling poole devores.

The remnant past all hope, now neir ov'rthrowne,
Their leiking seames drink in the floods so fast,
Whil Neptune wond'ring by what charge vnknowne
The swelling seas their limits have ov'rpast;
By what strange pow'r they have ov'rflow'd the plains,
And who, (by his command), hath loos'd the raines.

At which emov'd, his hoarie head he reares
Above the waters, toss'd by Juno's wraith.
The Trojane fleet soone to his eyes appeares,
Some drown'd, some dying, some scarce drawing breath;
Whome pittying, in the twinkling of ane eye
The storme he stills, and calm's the rageing sea.

Even as a rude concurse of people swairmes,
A heidles multitude misledde by rage,
Do fight confus'd; furie doth furnish armes;
No meanes can their ignoble ire asswage.
But if some man of eminence appeare,
They quit their strife, and to his words give eare.

Even so, no sooner Neptune show[s] his face,
Till bello'ing Boreas calmes his roaring voyce.
The striving stream's are suddenly at peace,
And rageing tempests still their blust'ring noyse.
With trumpets hoarse the Trytons sownd retrait.
Waves war no more against the scattered fleet.

Cymothoe applies her helping hands,
With many a sea-nymph Neptun's cowrt frequenting;
Who free the shipp's frome shoalds and sinking sands,
To Trojan's pittyfull themselves presenting.
The storme allay'd, they saiff away do slide.
On smooth-fac'd seas the God by coatch doth ride.

Now weary sailers with desired sight
Discerne afarre the long-long wissed land;
And thither plying, on the coasts do light
Of Africk, where Queen Dido bears command.
Frome Italy, a contrare cowrse, which driven,
Of all the sailes none find the porte but seven.

Soone as the rosie-fingered morning fair
Left Tython's bed, and glaid good-morrow gave
To Phaebus, blushing red, with golden hair,
Ariseing from the Orientall wave:
Wher Æneas early go's abroad,
And leaves the shipp's at anchore in the roade.

To see the soile he slumber sweit forsakes,
Longing to learne what people thair do stay;
Achates only he his convoy makes,
Swa journey taks where fortune guides the way,
By paths vnknow'n, perplexed much in minde,
They travell long, but people none can finde.

Till Venus last, disguised in shape, appears,
Most like a Spartan maid in armes and weed;
The gesture of Harpalice she bears,
To whom the light-foote horse gives place in speed.
Owt runnes swift running Heber's rav'nows streames;
With bowe on shoulder she ane huntres seames.

The heavenly treasure of her golden hair
Was toss'd by sweet-breath'd Zephyr heir and thair;
Her rayment short, her lovely knees wer bair,
With which no snowe in whitnes might compair.
Her eyes shin'd favour, courtessie, and grace,
No mortall ever saw more sweet a face.

“Stay, stowtly ȝowthes!” (she sayes), “who heir resorte,
And showe me if by chance ȝe have espied
Heir any of my sister nymphs at sporte,
With bowe in hand, and quaver by their syd,
The footsteps of a foamie boare who trace,
And hallo'ing lowd, fast follow on the chace.”

“None such we saw,” (quoth they), “O nymph divine!
Or sall we rather the a Goddes call?
Such heavenly beautys on thy face do shine,
Thy gloriows rayes owr mortall eyes appal;
But O! thrice happy Goddes, nymph or maid,
Quhat e're thow art, we humbly crave thine aid.

“Teach vs what soile is this, what countrey strange,
What fields so fair heir to owr sight are showen,
Vnder what climat of the heaven we range,
Where neither man nor place to vs are knowne.
We crave” (sweit lady), “if a stile so lowe
Beseeme thy state, this let thy servants knowe.”

“To me such honors,” she replies, “forbeare;
For this the fashion is for virgins heir
A bowe and quaver by their thighs to beare,
And rayment short above their knee to weir.
Of fertile Africk heir the soile ȝe see,
And those the walls of famows Carthage be.

“The scepter Dido swayes, heir fled of late
For horror of Pigmalion's cruell crime,
Against her mate in privy perpetrate,
Which sad discowrse requirs a longer time.
But things of greatest moment to discover,
All circumstance I breefly sall runne over.

“Sicheus was her lord and loyall mate,
With many gifts of minde and body graced,
Who her espous'd into her virgin state,
A spotless maid, ȝoung, beautyfull, and chaste.
Her bloody brother over Tyrus raigned:
No fiercer monster on the earth remained.

“He, blind with greid, to gaine Sicheus gold
Him vnawars before the altars slew,
And forg't inventiounes to his sister told,
Cloaking his cruelty with airts anew.
But murther, though it ly a space conceal'd,
By meanes vnlook't for, ay at last's reveal'd.

“Himself, vnburyed ȝit, Sicheus shew,
Before this wofull lady's sleeping eyes,
With visage wan, pale looks, and deidly hew,
Whom, fearfull lyk, she trembling fast espyes,
With gapeing wound, from whence a crimson flood
Ran gushing downe his breast, begor'd with blood.

“‘Flie! flie! my dearest half,’ quoth he, `from hence
Expect no better at thy brother's hands,
Flie him who kill'd thy husband but offence,
And cruelly dissolv'd owr nuptiall bands;
Whose cursed weapon Hymen's solemne knote
Disjoin'd, which joined was so long by lote.

“She, (wofull soule), appalled with the sight,
Her fainting hands three times stretcht owt in vaine
The shadow to embrace; but sadly sight
When nought but air her folded armes containe.
Three times againe, thus in her sleep misse-led
Three times his ghost her kinde embraces fled.

“Awak't, the charge she speedily obeyes;
Prepares for flight, conveining such as hate
This monster, who with fear the scepter swayes,
And tyrannizing reignes with terrour greate.
Whom spoiling, hence they fled with wealth vntold;
Their shipps they ballast with the traitouoris gold.

“Heir they arived, where now the walls arise
Of stately Carthage, reaching to the skies.
The soile she bought, along the coast which lies,
Within the reach and compasse of ȝowr eyes:
First Byrsa call'd, as much in length and breid
As she could with an oxen hide ov'rspreid.

“But whence be ȝe, (my freinds), who seame so sad,
Whose ruethfull looks ȝowr inward sorrows showe?
Frome what far coast have ȝe ȝowr journey had?
Or whither further purpose ȝe to go?”
To which, with wounded heart and watrie eyes,
Sore sighing, thus the sea-toss'd prince replies:

“Ah lady! if I should at length relate
And of owr bitter sorrows showe the source;
Owr adverse fortune and estrang't estate
Requires a longsome dolorows discowrse:
Day should departe and Phoebus bright descend,
Long ere owr wofull tragedy should end.

“Frome Troy we come, Troy was owr haples soile,
(If ever Troy into thine ears fand place),
By wind and wave heir toss'd we are with toile,
Of heavenly issue and immortall race.
Frome Jove I sprang; brought lowe, before thine eyes
Æneas stands, whose fame surmounts the skyes.

“To Italy Apollo did exhorte
My cowrse: I follow'd where the Fates did guide;
With twentie sailes, (alas!) I left the porte,
Of which scarce seven saiff frome the stormes abide.
Myself in neid heir strayes, to all vnknowne,
Far, far from Europ, and frome Asia throwne.”

But such regrates vnable more to hear:
“Brave Trojane, be encourag'd,” Venus sayes;
“Raise vp thine heart, such sad complaints forbear,
Heavens guide thy footsteps and direct thy wayes.
Hold on to Carthage, where Quein Dido reignes;
Thy shipps ar save; thy mates alive remaines.

“Even as those swanns, by six and six which flye,
Doung by ane eagle in the skies of late,
For joy of perill past all mounting hye,
With wanton wings the ȝielding air they beat:
Even so thy shipps, long toss'd on seas, in end
With mirth and noyse all to the porte intend.”

Thus having said, she turn'd away her face,
Which made a sunne-shine in the shady place,
With rosie cheeks and cheirfull smiling face,
Such as Adonis earst she did embrace,
Her sweet ambrosiall breath and nect'red hair,
With musk and amber did perfume the air.

He ravish't both with wonder and delight,
“Ah! mother, stay thy cowrse;” sore sighing sayes,
“Why, masked thus, dost thow delude my sight?
Pitty thy childe, heir comfortles who stayes.”
Ne're word she spak, but as they walk't in dowbt,
She with a cloud encompast them abowt.

The subtle air, (a wondrows thing to showe),
In solide substance did the self congeale,
With wonder rapt, environing the two,
Themselves with mists enfolded thus to feel,
To whome alone the cloud transparent bright,
With thick'ned damps debarr'd all others sight.

They, subject now vnto no mortall eyes,
Hold foreward, where the Goddes them commands.
She to her soile, by skies, to Paphos flyes,
Wher consecrate to her a temple stands,
Whose altars, which in odowrs sweet excell,
With cassia, myrrhe, and cynamome do smell.

They meanewhile to a mountaines toppe intending,
From which the towne lies subject to their sight;
The stately work with walls to skies ascending,
The pompows ports with gold all glist'ring bright,
The towres, on Porphyr pillars which arise,
And mabre streets feed with delight their eyes.

The workmen earnestly do their hands applie;
Some dig the earth and search a solide ground;
Some found below, some build amidst the skie;
With noyse of hammers hollow heavens resownd.
Some stones do roll; some vnder burthens grone;
Some grave in brasse; some kyth their craft in stone.

Lyk as when Phoebus, father of the ȝeir,
With warme reflexe the frosted flowrs revives,
When natur's alchimists from rest reteir,
And to the sluggarde life and courage gives.
Whil some at home, some in the fields abroade,
Their tender thighs with waxe & hony loade;

Assail'd by stormes, some litle stones do beir,
And ballast thus do contrepoyze the winde;
Some waxen pallaces with paine do reir;
Some search a field the fragrant flowrs to finde;
Some, bussied in the hyve, great murmure mak,
Whil others of the brood the charge do tak.

All wisely for the winter do provide,
And empty combs with liquours sweet do fill;
Parte at the ports, as sentinells abide,
Vnloade their mat's and drowsie dron's do kill;
The work doth prosper, Nectar-plenish't cels
With thyme and cammomile most sweetly smels.

Even so the Tyrians, some a stately stage
On arches rais'd for comedyes ereck;
For judgement some a place prepare more sage,
Establish lawes, and magistrats eleck.
Each with a sev'rall work employ'd tak paine:
None sluethfull in the citty do remaine.

“Happy! O happy ȝe!” Æneas sayes,
“Whose fortun's floorish, and whose walls arise.”
No longer he vpon the mountaine stayes,
But, ent'ring at the porche, seene by no eyes,
Bereft with wonder he abroad doth range,
Apparell'd with this airy rayment strange.

A shaddy groave amidst this citty grew,
Of amrows myrtles and immortall bayes,
Which, heavenly sweet, deliciows odowrs threw,
Whil Zephyr breath'd among the palme-trie sprayes,
Whose topps, entwyn'd, a pleasant arbor made,
Which ȝeelded a delightsome cooling shade.

Amidst this groave, to Juno sacred, stood
A church with all choyse rarities enriched,
Which, of no humane industry denude,
All eyes with admiratioune bewitched,
Who viewe what arte hath in this work devis'd,
With curiows pencill, cunningly compris'd.

Heir she to nature not inferiowr much,
In shapes admir'd her excellence hath showne,
The live-les pictures seeme to see, move, touch,
With wondrows colours by the painter drawne:
The statues stand, wrought with exceeding coste,
By cunning craftsmen carved and embost.

Æneas wond'ring at this temple's glory,
And, with those sights, his sorrowing eyes delighting,
Neir by, abr[i]g'd, he viewes Troyes tragick story,
Drawen with such life as seem'd he saw them fighting:
Great Ilion by triumphing Greeks suppris'd,
Their bloody rage who prowdly exercys'd.

Before the towne did stand the woodden horse;
Whilas the ramme the walls is vndermining.
The Trojans val'rowsly resist their force,
In plumed caskes and glitt'ring armour shining.
Now frome the ports the Greeks they seeme to chase,
And now retreating, to the foe give place.

Heir sent to death by Diomedes' hand,
The breathles body of prowd Rhesus lyes.
Heir Troylus, vnable to withstand
Achilles' stroak's, by gloriows conquest dyes.
Heir Priame doth his strenthles hands uphold,
Sueing to ransome Hector's corps with gold.

There, 'mongst his foes, himself anone he viewes,
Acting his parte vpon this bloody stage,
In Graecian blood his blaid who oft embrues,
Arm'd with trew valowr, not misseledde with rage.
There Memnon, there the souldiers of Aurore,
Distill their dearest blood to conquere glore.

But see! see how Penthesilea leads
Her Amazonian trowpes to Troye's supplie!
To all her valour admiration breids,
But death and horrour to the enemy.
All other women with their tongues mak warre,
She, by her hands, more famows is be farre.

But in this age such Amazons ar rare,
Now strange Hermaphrodites supplie their place,
Whose cloths, whose cariage, curlings, cutted haire,
Complexiounes, coloures, ar their cheifest grace:
Whose greatest study's foundlings to abuse;
The mystery of painting how to vse.

Viewing at last those vnexpected sights:
“Ah, deir Achates!” sighing sore, he said:
“In owr mishapps what nation not delights?
What place doth not owr infamies vpbraid?
Betwix the fyrie and the frozen ȝone
Our sad misfortunes are vnknowne to none.”

But as no joy's so great as lasteth ay,
So no mis-hap's so hard, but once may end.
Dark night o'rpast, succeedes the pleasant day,
Heavens, after sorrowes, joyes and solace send.
So now, the lustre of Eliza's eyes
Cheirs vp his spreits & calmes his miseryes.

Her presence soone gives respett to his teares;
Her milde aspect him with assurance armes;
Her beautyes peace proclaime vnto his feares;
Her gratiows countenance his anguish charmes.
For, loe, as Cynthia 'mongst the stars doth shyne,
She comes attended with a stately tryne.

Fair Iris in her choisest colowrs clad,
Arayed in robes of pure blew-golden-green,
Should in this cowrt have look't but pale and sad
Amids the pompows throng which guarde the Queen,
Who might have put a period to the strife
'Twix Juno, Pallas, and lame Vulcan's wife.

More lovely creature never mortall ey,
More ritch in beautyes, ever ȝit did viewe,
Whose lips of corall, cheeks of yvorie,
Where lillyes sweet & budding roses grew,
The smothest pearle, and ritchest rubies stain'd,
Still kissing and still blushing which remain'd.

Her fore-head full of bashfullnes and state,
Where Venus' babe did bend his Heben bowe,
Of majesty and mildenes seam't the seate,
Whose native white made pale the purest snowe.
Two stars are fixt into this beautyes spheare,
Smile-frowning, stormie-calm, and cloudie-cleare.

Each glance alone of those celestiall lights
Dairt foorth a living death, or deadly wound,
And by allurements strange in snare the sights,
And do beholders' senses quite confound,
Whose silent rhetorick far more perswade
Then all the airts enchaunting Circe hade.

Each beawty, to attract the curiows eye,
Hath something rare, peculiar, and alone,
Which most the face with forme doth beautyfie,
And leaves impression in a heart of stone.
Some, sweetly smileing, kindle Cupid's fire,
And, blushing, some adde fewell to desire.

Some with the cherryes of sweet lips ensnare;
Some with the dimples of a vermile cheek;
By wanton looks some leave a lasting care,
And others most do move by seeming meek.
But heir, all beautyes in this object meit:
O miracle of nature thus compleit!

Even as Diana, by Eurota's banks,
Or Cynthus' tops, with many a nymph attendit,
With deep-mowth'd hounds the fleeing deir disranks;
Some fall, by flight some have their lyves defendit.
The Goddes egerly the chace doth follow,
Cheiring her hounds with a harmoniows hallow.

The wanton wod-nymphs fast abowt her throng,
Both at her sport and heavenly shape amazed.
She joyfully them traines the plains along,
Still more admiring, more on her they gazed.
For loe! she shynes amids this crew more bright
Then clear Aurora, parting frome the night.

So ent'red Dido: such her princely port,
A sweit, majestick, and heart-moving creature,
With pompows splendour, far above report,
But airt adorn't, with beautyes choysest feature,
Whose gracefull gesture, whose enchanting eyes,
Æneas' sorrows seam't at once to ease.

Magnifickly thus mounting to her throne,
Weiring a costly coronet of gold,
The sword of justice to her subjects showne,
The scepter her imperiall hand doth hold;
Where, guarded with a groave of awfull armes,
She sitts secure frome spightfull traitors' harmes.

There, like that nymph who fled from earth to heaven,
So much by all for equity renown'd,
Of justice she doth hold the ballance eaven,
And solidly doth lawes and statutes found,
Wherby good subjects easily are rain'd,
The viciows sort by fear and force restrain'd.

The Queen scarce plac't into her yvorie throne,
Whil suddenly a companie arives
Of souldiers, as it seam't to all vnknowne,
Which preassing, as perplex't, for presence strives:
Sergestus, Antheus and Cloanthus strong,
Were leaders of this vnexspected throng.

Three Trojane captanes with their trowpes attendit,
New scaipt the furie of the boyst'rows king,
Heir last on shoare, whil otherwise intendit;
Heaven's angry Empresse hindred their designe,
Their ships assailing on the wattrie plaine,
Till Neptune calm'd the swelling seas againe.

Their prince, his people heir at cowrt espying,
In Thetis' bosome whom entomb't he trowed,
Amaz'd he stood, with deep attention trying
If visions false his eyes did overcloud,
If apparitions or chymerœes vaine
Appear'd, illudeing his distempered braine.

But finding heir his followers in effect,
Sick with a surffeit of excessive joy,
He long'd himself vnmasked to detect,
That mutuallie they comfort might enjoy;
But, seasouning this passion with feare,
Their sute to Dido first resolves to heare.

Meanwhile Ilioneus doth humbly kneel,
And thus the Queen with reverence doth greet:
“Great Princes! we, (poore strangers), do appeale
To thy protection, prostrate at thy feet,
Embold'ned by thy virtewes to draw neare,
And in thy sacred presence to appeare.

“We, wofull Trojanes, wand'ring in exile,
Long toss't abroad vpon the troublows seas,
Do humbly crave to rest with the a while;
Let not owr sute thy patience displease;
But, (gratiows Princes!), pitty owr distres,
And over vs thy people's pride repres.

“To raise thy cittyes and returne with spoile,
To no such end we did vs heir addresse;
We, being objects of disgrace and toile,
No such prowd thoughts owr conquer'd mindes possesse.
Whil first we did on foamie seas ascend,
To Italy we did owr cowrse intend.

“Scarce did the floods owr sight from shoar divorce,
Whil mad with furie, and inflam'd with rage,
Lowd bellowing Boreas prowdly offers force,
And maid owr navie of his pride the stage.
The elements, all intermixt in one,
Owr ships were soone disperst and overthrowne.

“A Prince we had, (O had!), word full of grieff!
By name Æneas, great in armes and fame,
Whom, if the heavens preserve for owr relieff,
Feir no; thy fortoune thow shall never blame,
That we by the ar favor'd for his caws.”
Thus, with a sigh, the Trojane maide a pause.

Her waxen heart, touch't with a trew remorse,
And sympathie of their distrest estate,
Did her compassion in such sort enforce,
As, sweetly smileing, from her regall seat:
“Cheer vp ȝor mindes, (brave Trojanes),” she replyed;
“Exile base sorrow, be no more dismayed.

“What people are so barren of engine,
As have not heard of great Æneas' name?
Troyes ancient splendour? of her gloryes shine?
With longsome warre how Mars did her inflame?
To vs ȝour vertewes admiration breeds,
Amazed much by ȝowr heroick deeds.

“If hence ȝe minde, free pasport I will give,
And, with a lib'rall hande, ȝowr wants supplie.
Or, if my kingdome can ȝowr woes relieve,
Welcome! thrise welcome, heir to stay with me!
If Trojanes can submit them to my throne,
Trojane and Tyrian sall to me be one.

“And O! I wish ȝowr brave, illustruows prince,
With whose renowne the earth's seaven climats rings,
Were heir; if heavens have not him ravish't hence,
But do reserve for some vnknowne designes,
Happy, how happy should Queen Dido bee,
To succour him in his extremitie.”

Scarce had she endit till the airie cloud,
Which him encompas't, vanisht owt of sight,
And he, deliv'red of his sable shroud,
With sudden wonder, shyn'd into the light,
More lyke a God then any earthly creature,
So perfect he appear'd in every feature.

With stately shape, a smileing awfull eye,
A piercing look, a sweet majestick face;
The golden treasure of his locks which lye
Adowne his shoulders with celestiall grace,
In heavenly hew excell'd that far sought fleece,
Gain'd with such hazarde by the ȝowth of Greece.

Now see how Dido narrowely doth eye him,
Into her heart great things of him divining;
With admiration all the cowrt espye him,
Vpon his royall brow true vertue shining.
No dame so chaste but, spite of all defences,
Must ȝeeld to love, him viewing with right senses.

“Behold,” (quoth he), “great Princes, in thy sight,
The man for whome thow kindly dost enquire;
Thy humblest servant, if a sea-tost wight,
Infolded in misfortune's sad attire,
Can be thought worthy the, (dear Queen), to serve,
Who dost so infin'tly of vs deserve.

“Thow onely with owr miseryes art moved;
By the alone we comfort do enjoy;
Thow only kinde and pittyfull hast proved
To vs, the poore distrest remaine of Troy.
We only by thy gratiows favour breath,
Near ent'red at the frozen gates of death.

“Thow, feelingly enflam't with ȝealows fire,
Our indigence dost vndeserv'dly aid,
The wofull objects of proud Æol's ire,
Whom heavens each where, by sea, by land, invaide;
The scorne of time, the mirrour of mishap,
Of deepest grieff the most expressive map.

“Can e're thy bountyes be by vs repayed?
All-vertuouse princes! Africk's gloriows starre!
We straying Pelerins will ne'r assay't,
Thy great deserts exceed owr pow'r so farre.
Jove, dowbtles, Dido duely sall rewarde,
If Jove doth rueth or equity regarde.

“Whill night's clear torches in true measure daunce
To heavenly accords of harmoniows spheares,
Whil Phoebus' steeds abowt the Poles do praunce,
Earth's pond'rows masse whill giant Atlas beares;
Thy fame, praise, glory, and thy partes divine,
Shall last, enrol'd on times immortall shrine.

“And, whill the heavens dissolve owr bodyes frame,
Thy kindnes no oblivion shall blot owt.”
Thus having said, burnt with affection's flame,
His subjects he embraces all abowt.
Hands join'd in hands, joy hath their hearts transfixed,
Both smiles and teares at once ar intermixed.

“Great Cytherea's sone!” the Queen replied,
Ravish't with wonder of this object strange;
“What fortune heir thy wand'ring steps doth guide?
How coms't thir costs thow solitare dost range?
Art thow that Prince, by progeny divine,
Whom great Anchises gote on beautyes Queen?

“My father Belus, (well I do record),
Whil wasteing Cyprus with victoriows hand,
To Teucer's aide, who by the dint of sword
Most violently was expell'd the land;
Their first thy fame did sound into mine eare;
Their Troyes distres and ruine I did heare.

“Like bitter fortunes als myself have proved;
But, greiff digested, sweet content redowbles.
Afflicted wights to pitty I am moved,
Not inexpert in woe and saddest troubles.
Rest heir, Æneas, in thir partes a space,
For bloody broiles enjoying blessed peace.”

Butt more, descending frome imperiall seate,
Her ghuests she guides into a pompows hall,
Then holy-dayes proclaim'd with triumph great,
In honour of th' ensewing festivall:
A Hecatombe is offered, beasts are slaine
To Neptune, ruler of the glassie plaine.

The regall palace, royally prepar'd,
With hangings ritch is sumptuously decor'd;
In midst the tables, on ritch pillars rear'd,
With silver plate are plentifully stor'd.
On which, laboriowsly engraven in gold,
The Princes' royall pedegrie's enrol'd.

Æneas now discharg't of heavy care,
Preparing to refresh his fainting sprights,
Ascanius' absence only doth empare
His perfect joyes, enless'ning his delights.
Such was the tender, fatherly respect
Whereby his child he dearly doth affect.

“Achates, haist,” (quoth he), “at length relate
To that sweet Boy, who in the ships doth stay,
The period of owr paines, owr present state,
How calme a night hath still'd owr stormie day.
Be thow a guide vnto his footsteps weake,
That of owr pleasures heir he may partake.

“And those few tokens, which alone do laste
Of all the treasures of demolish't Troy,
Bring with that hopefull childe to vs in haste;
The costly jewells Helen did enjoy,
Her ritch embroid'red robes, the scepter rare,
And crowne, which fair Ilionea bare.

“With these the Queen I purpose to present,
Small pledges of these duetyes to her due.
Whill smoothest words to no effect are spent,
Gifts, (strange perswadeing oratours), subdue,
And force the firmest mindes, do still prevaill,
Whil complements and kindest speaches faill.”

But whill Achates for Ascanius hyes
With winged pace: Loe! frome the cristall skies,
The Cyprian Goddes suddenly espyes
Th'event of all; who doth anone devise
That Cupid shall assume the shape and face
Of sweet Ascanius, and supplie his place,

And so the Queen with furie strange enspire,
Into her bosome breathing love's infection,
And kindle in her breast a boyling fire,
A quenchles flame of violent affection,
Whose deadly poyson, once infused deep,
May peice and peice through all her arteirs creep.

And whill he doth present the ritch propyne
Of Trojan reliques, in Ascanius' shape,
He may, (vnwarre), the Princes vndermyne,
And craftily her liberty entrape;
So, being once enamor'd on her sone,
May free his danger her suspition.

“Cupid, my sone,” saith she, (for Cupid still's
Attending Venus), “thow my strenth, my stay,
Whose trophes great both heavens and earth do fill,
O'r gods, o'r men, who dost thy scepter swey,
Behold before thy sacred Deity,
Thy mother Venus comes entreating the.

“With what despight, (thow knowes), Jove's jealows wife
Thy brother, dear Æneas, hath persewed,
Whom, nixt to the, I tender as my life,
My joy, my cheifest care, and neir subdewed
On Neptun's aȝure bosome, to my smarte;
Thow of my woes hast oft made vp a parte.

“Him Carthage now containes; Loe! how the Queen,
With sugg'red speaches, much his stay importunes,
And royally her ghuest doth entertaine,
With kinde compassion on his former fortunes.
But what these gloriows guilded sho's portend,
It's hard to constre: O! I fear the end.

“In Junoes citty, since by Juno hated,
How can he draw secure one minute's breath?
Since no where saiff, but by her furie threated,
Heir, at her pleasure, she may plot his death.
No place more oportune, no time more fit,
Such inhumane a murther to commit.

“But hark! deir infant, Loe! I have devis'd
A policie all perill to prevent.
Queen Dido, by thy slights, must be suppris'd;
A secret flame must frome thy forge be sent
To boyle her breast, her minde to fancie move,
Æneas only object of her love.

“Now fit occasion favors owr designes.
The lovely boy Ascanius goes to cowrt.
Lay thow aside a space thy shafts, thy wings,
Put on his person, and his princely porte.
A child, thow mayst a childe in shape resemble,
More subtilly with Dido to dissemble.

“That whil embraced, cherish't, entertain'd,
The nectar of thy balmie lips she seiks,
And whil she clasps the in her armes enchain'd,
Redowbling kisses on thy rosiall cheeks,
Thow privily may in her veines enspire
A pleasing poyson, a deceiving fire.”

Cupid obeyes the Goddes' charming voice.
An humane shape him instantly investes.
Of sweet Ascanius' shadow he maks choise,
And of his wings himself anone devestes,
Layes downe his bow and arrowes, one by one,
So with Achates to the cowrt is gone.

But, least Ascanius should the guile disclose,
To Ida wods the Goddes him doth beare,
Where pleasant slumber, rest and sweet repose
Lock't vp his eyes; and Morpheus drawing neire
Seas'd on his senses, in the cooling shade
Which lillyes sweet and budding roses made.

So now, whil Dido doth her ghuests entreat,
With choisest cowrses and deliciows faire,
Loading the tables with all sortes of meat,
Which ȝielded are on earth or liquid aire,
An hundreth groomes, with diligence and skill,
Giving attendance on the strangers still.

And whill Iöpas sweetly doth expresse
With warbling voice, and yvorie instrument,
The motion, order, cowrse of great and lesse,
Fires fixt and straying, in the firmament;
How Phoebus eyther hemi-spheare enflames,
And how his thunders Jove, and lightnings frames.

How Mars and Venus Vulcane did ensnare;
How stars' aspects benigne or froward bee;
How Iris bends her bowe amids the aire;
How rolling spheares resound harmoniowsly:
Lo! suddenly amids this joyfull throng,
Ascanius, comming, interrupts the song.

For, as he ent'red, all with greedy eyes
Gaze on the beautyes of the lovely boy.
Resplendant rayes his visage beautifyes,
His chearfull countenance augments their joy.
Smiles grace his gesture, which in them doth move
Amazement, wonder, joy, delight, and love.

They mervell at Æneas ritch propyne.
They mervell at the boy the gifts doth bring.
They muse a mortall's face so bright doth shyne,
Mistaking him to be a God, a king,
A mighty monarch, whose imperiows hand
Bears over all the vniverse command.

But none, so much as Dido, him admires:
In this sweet object such delight she fand,
She, in his breast, (as fixed starrs), ensphears
Her sparkling lights, which still butt motion stand.
But, still the more, her starving eyes she feeds,
Desire encreasing still the greater breeds.

The silver beames abowt his locks of gold,
The heavenly lustre of his shining face,
Her more and more still in amazement hold.
Within her breast she finds no rest nor peace,
But, surffeitting on such vnusuall sights,
Although enflam't, she in the flame delights.

Thus, whill she feeds, she pynes herself away,
(An harmeles flie allured by the low);
Her self, vnwar, thus doth her self betray,
And feels the force of this small archer's bowe,
Whose eyes alone, sweet, cowrtes, voide of ire,
Dairt lightnings foorth, a world of love to fire.

But now the Syren, by enchantments false,
The senses charmes of his supposed syre,
Now sucks his lips, now hings abowt his halse,
With kinde embraceings kindling his desyre.
He tenderly his child doth intertaine,
Mistaking whome his folded armes containe.

His cowrse, anone, vnto the Queen he takes,
Whose marrowe boyles already in her bones.
She, for the cherries of his lips forsakes
All other daintyes, and in love suppones
A sweeter issue, nor experience bad,
In end expressed, in characters sad.

Within the prison of her yvorie armes,
The infant clasping closely, she confines;
And to her foe's assaultes herself disarmes,
Vnwar, her liberty who vndermines,
And ignorant she holdeth on her breast
So great a God, so dangerows a ghuest.

He, peice and peice, the dear remembrance kills
Of late Sicheus, who her love enjoyed,
And empty veines with living fire he fills,
Her former flames which quickly have destroyed;
Her heart, long disaccustom'd now to love,
Affections strange and passions new doth prove.

Now is the Queen ensnar'd with Cupid's airts,
By love led captive to a suddaine change.
She feels the poyson of his deadly dairts
To work in her by operation strange.
But none her trembling pulses neids to finde.
Her eyes bewray the sicknes of her minde.

O love! how many are thy subtle snares,
To conquer beauty and to climb her forte;
Vowes, protestations, prayers, sighs and teares,
And cowrting strange in many a sundry sorte,
Betray poore women. Nature beauty made
Both to be loved and proved, nought die and fade.

Now silent night spred foorth her sable wings,
And broad display'd her spangled cannopye.
In fire, air, sea and earth, all living things,
Which moving, flying, creeping, breathing be,
Did rest, in pleasant slumber buryed deep,
Save she whose wakeing thoughts impeacht her sleep.

Heir endeth the First Book.