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The Poems of Henry Howard

Earl of Surrey: Frederick Morgan Padelford: Revised Edition

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TRANSLATIONS FROM THE ÆNEID


115

TRANSLATIONS FROM THE ÆNEID

57 BOOK 2.

They whisted all, with fixed face attent,
When prince Aeneas from the royal seat
Thus gan to speak: “O Quene! it is thy wil
I should renew a woe cannot be told,
How that the Grekes did spoile and ouerthrow
The Phrygian wealth and wailful realm of Troy:
Those ruthfull things that I my self beheld,
And whereof no small part fel to my share.
Which to expresse, who could refraine from teres:
What Myrmidon? or yet what Dolopes?
What stern Ulysses waged soldiar?
And loe! moist night now from the welkin falles;
And sterres declining counsel vs to rest.
But sins so great is thy delight to here
Of our mishaps and Troyes last decay,
Though to record the same my minde abhorres
And plaint eschues, yet thus wil I begyn.
The Grekes chieftains all irked with the war,
Wherin they wasted had so many yeres
And oft repulst by fatal destinie,
A huge hors made, hye raised like a hill,
By the diuine science of Minerua;
Of clouen fir compacted were his ribbs;
For their return a fained sacrifice,
The fame wherof so wandred it at point.
In the dark bulk they closde bodies of men
Chosen by lot, and did enstuff by stealth
The hollow womb with armed soldiars.
There stands in sight an isle, hight Tenedon,
Rich, and of fame, while Priams kingdom stood;
Now but a bay, and rode vnsure for ship.
Hether them secretly the Grekes withdrew,
Shrouding themselues vnder the desert shore.

116

And wening we they had ben fled and gone,
And with that winde had fet the land of Grece,
Troye discharged her long continued dole.
The gates cast vp, we issued out to play,
The Grekish camp desirous to behold,
The places void and the forsaken costes.
Here Pyrrhus band, there ferce Achilles pight;
Here rode their shippes; there did their batteils ioyne.
Astonnied, some the scathefull gift beheld,
Behight by vow vnto the chast Minerue,
All wondring at the hugenesse of the horse.
And fyrst of all Timoetes gan aduise
Wythin the walles to leade and drawe the same,
And place it eke amidde the palace court;
Whether of guile, or Troyes fate it would.
Capys, wyth some of iudgement more discrete,
Wild it to drown, or vnderset with flame
The suspect present of the Grekes deceit,
Or bore and gage the hallowe caues uncouth.
So diuerse ranne the giddy peoples minde.
Loe! formest of a rout that followd him,
Kindled Laocoon hasted from the towre,
Crieng far of: ‘O wreched citezens,
What so great kind of frensie freteth you?
Deme ye the Grekes our enemies to be gone?
Or any Grekish giftes can you suppose
Deuoid of guile? Is so Ulysses known?
Either the Grekes ar in this timber hid,
Or this an engin is to anoy our walles,
To view our toures, and ouerwhelme our towne.
Here lurkes some craft. Good Troyans, geue no trust
Unto this horse, for, what so euer it be,
I dred the Grekes; yea! when they offer gyftes!’
And with that word, with all his force a dart
He launced then into that croked wombe;
Which tremling stack, and shoke within the side,
Wherwith the caues gan hollowly resound.
And, but for Faites and for our blind forcast,
The Grekes deuise and guile had he discried;
Troy yet had stand, and Priams toures so hie.

117

Therwyth behold, wheras the Phrigian herdes
Brought to the king with clamor, all vnknown
A yongman, bound his handes behinde his back;
Whoe willingly had yelden prisoner,
To frame his guile, and open Troyes gates
Unto the Grekes; with courage fully bent,
And minde determed either of the twaine,—
To worke his feat, or willing yeld to death.
Nere him, to gaze, the Troyan youth gan flock,
And straue whoe most might at the captiue scorne.
The Grekes deceit beholde, and by one profe
Imagine all the rest.
For in the preasse as he vnarmed stood,
Wyth troubled chere, and Phrigian routes beset,
‘Alas!’ quad he, ‘what earth nowe, or what seas
May me receyue? catif, what restes me nowe?
For whom in Grece doth no abode remayne;
The Troians eke offended seke to wreke
Their hainous wrath, wyth shedying of my bloud.’
With this regrete our hartes from rancor moued.
The brute appeasde, we askte him of his birth,
What newes he brought, what hope made hym to yeld.
Then he, al dred remoued, thus began:
‘O King! I shall, what euer me betide,
Say but the truth; ne first will me denie
A Grecian borne, for though fortune hath made
Sinon a wretche, she can not make him false.
If euer came vnto your eares the name,
Nobled by fame, of the sage Palamede,
Whom traitrously the Grekes condemd to dye,
Giltlesse, by wrongfull dome, for that he dyd
Dyssuade the warres,—whose death they nowe lament;
Underneth him my father, bare of wealth,
Into his band yong, and nere of his blood,
In my prime yeres vnto the war me sent.
While that by fate his state in stay did stand,
And when his realm did florish by aduise,
Of glorie, then, we bare som fame and brute.
But sins his death by false Ulyssez sleight
—I speak of things to all men wel beknown—,

118

A drery life in doleful plaint I led,
Repining at my gyltlesse frends mischaunce.
Ne could I, fool! refrein my tong from thretes,
That if my chaunce were euer to return
Victor to Arge, to folowe my reuenge.
With such sharp words procured I great hate;
Here sprang my harm. Ulysses euer sithe
With new found crimes began me to affray;
In common eares false rumors gan he sowe;
Weapons of wreke his gylty minde gan seke.
Ne rested ay till he by Calchas meane—
But whereunto these thanklesse tales in vaine
Do I reherse, and lingre fourth the time,
In like estate if all the Grekes ye price?
It is enough ye here rid me at ones.
Ulysses, Lord! how he wold this reioise!
Yea, and either Atride would bye it dere.’
This kindled vs more egre to enquire,
And to demaund the cause; without suspect
Of so great mischef thereby to ensue,
Or of Grekes craft. He then with forged words
And quiuering limes, thus toke hys tale again.
‘The Grekes oft times entended their return
Ffom Troye town, with long warrs all ytired,
For to dislodge; which, would God! they had done.
But oft the winter storms of raging seas,
And oft the boisteous winds did them to stay;
And chiefly, when of clinched ribbes of firre
This hors was made, the storms rored in the aire.
Then we in dout to Phebus temple sent
Euripilus, to wete the prophesye.
From whens he brought these woful news again:
‘With blood, O Grekes! and slaughter of a maid,
Ye pleasd the winds, when first ye came to Troy.
With blood likewise ye must seke your return:
A Grekish soule must offred be therefore.’
‘But when this sound had pearst the peoples eares,
With sodein fere astonied were their mindes;
The chilling cold did ouerrunne their bones,
To whom that fate was shapte whom Phebus wold.

119

Ulysses then amid the preasse bringes in
Calchas with noyse, and wild him to discusse
The gods intent. Then some gan deme to me
The cruell wrek of him that framde the craft,
Foreseing secretly what wold ensue.
In silence then, yshrowding him from sight,
But dayes twise fiue he whisted, and refused
To death, by speche, to further any wight.
At last, as forced by false Ulyssez crye,
Of purpose he brake fourth, assigning me
To the altar; whereto they graunted all,
And that, that erst eche one dred to himself,
Returned all vnto my wretched death.
And now at hand drew nere the woful day;
All things preparde wherwyth to offer me:
Salt, corne, fillets my temples for to bind.
I scapte the deth, I graunt, & brake ye bands,
And lurked in a marrise all the nyght
Among the ooze, while they did set their sailes;
If it so be that they in dede so dyd.
Now restes no hope my natiue land to see,
My children dere, nor long desired sire,
On whom, parchaunce, they shall wreke my escape:
Those harmlesse wights shal for my fault be slayn.
‘Then, by the gods, to whom al truth is known,
By fayth vnfiled, if any any where
Wyth mortal folke remaines, I thee beseche,
O king, thereby rue on my trauail great;
Pitie a wretch that giltlesse suffreth wrong.’
Life to these teres, wyth pardon eke, we graunt.
And Priam first himself commaundes to lose
His gyues, his bands, and frendly to him sayd:
‘Whoso thou art, learn to forget the Grekes;
Hencefourth be oures; and answere me with truth:
Whereto was wrought the masse of this huge hors?
Whoes the deuise? and wherto should it tend?
What holly vow? or engin for the warres?’
Then he, instruct with wiles and Grekish craft,
His loosed hands lift vpward to the sterrs:
‘Ye euerlasting lampes! I testifye,

120

Whoes powr diuine may not be violate;
Thaltar and swerd,’ quod he, ‘that I haue scapt;
Ye sacred bandes! I wore as yelden hoste;
Leful be it for me to breke mine othe
To Grekes; lefull to hate their nacion;
Lefull be it to sparcle in the ayre
Their secretes all, whatsoe they kepe in close;
For free am I from Grece and from their lawes.
So be it, Troy, and, saued by me from scathe,
Kepe faith with me, and stand to thy behest;
If I speak truth, and opening thinges of weight,
For graunt of life requite thee large amendes.
‘The Grekes whole hope of vndertaken war
In Pallas help consisted euermore.
But sith the time that wicked Diomede,
Ulysses eke, that forger of all guile,
Auenturde from the holly sacred fane
For to bereue dame Pallas fatall forme,
And slew the watches of the chefest toure,
And then away the holly statue stale,—
That were so bold with handes embrued in blood
The virgin goddesse veiles for to defile—,
Sith that, their hope gan faile, their hope to fall,
Their powr appeir, their goddesse grace withdraw,
Whych with no doutfull signes she did declare.
Scarce was the statue to our tentes ybroughte,
But she gan stare with sparcled eyes of flame;
Along her limes the salt sweat trickled downe;
Yea, thrise her selfe—a hideous thinge to tell—
In glaunces bright she glittered from the ground,
Holding in hand her targe and quiuering spere.
Calchas by sea then bade vs hast our flight,
Whoes engins might not break the walles of Troy,
Unlesse at Grece they wold renew their lottes,
Restore the god that they by sea had brought
In warped keles. To Arge sith they be come,
They pease their godds, and war afresh prepare,
And crosse the seas vnloked for eftsones
They will return. This order Calchas set.
‘This figure made they for thagreued god

121

In Pallas stede, to clense their hainous fault.
Which masse he willed to be reaed hye
Toward the skies, and ribbed all with oke,
So that your gates ne wall might it receiue;
Ne yet your people might defensed be
By the good zele of old deuotion.
For if your hands did Pallas gift defile,
To Priams realm great mischef shold befall;
Which fate the gods first on him self return!
But had your owne handes brought it in your town,
Asie should passe, and carrie offred war
In Grece, euen to the walles of Pelops town,
And we and oures that destenie endure.’
By such like wiles of Sinon, the forsworne,
His tale with vs did purchace credit; some,
Trapt by deceite; some, forced by his teres;
Whom neither Diomede, nor great Achille,
Nor ten yeres war, ne a thousand saile could daunt.
Us caitifes then a far more dredful chaunce
Befell, that trobled our vnarmed brestes.
Whiles Laocon, that chosen was by lot
Neptunus priest, did sacrifice a bull
Before the holy altar, sodenly
From Tenedon, behold! in circles great
By the calme seas come fletyng adders twaine,
Which plied towardes the shore—I lothe to tell—
With rered brest lift vp aboue the seas;
Whose bloody crestes aloft the waues were seen.
The hinder part swame hidden in the flood;
Their grisly backes were linked manifold.
With sound of broken waues they gate the strand,
With gloing eyen, tainted with blood and fire;
Whoes waltring tongs did lick their hissing mouthes.
We fled away, our face the blood forsoke;
But they with gate direct to Lacon ran.
And first of all eche serpent doth enwrap
The bodies small of his two tender sonnes,
Whoes wrectched limes they byt, and fed theron.
Then raught they hym, who had his wepon caught
To rescue them; twise winding him about,

122

With folded knottes and circled tailes, his wast;
Their scaled backes did compasse twise his neck,
Wyth rered heddes aloft and stretched throtes.
He with his handes straue to vnloose the knottes,
Whose sacred fillettes all be sprinkled were
With filth of gory blod, and venim rank,
And to the sterres such dredfull shoutes he sent,
Like to the sound the roring bull fourth loowes,
Which from the halter wounded doth astart,
The swaruing axe when he shakes from his neck.
The serpentes twain with hasted traile they glide
To Pallas temple, and her towres of heighte;
Under the feete of which the goddesse stern,
Hidden behinde her targettes bosse they crept.
New gripes of dred then pearse our trembling brestes.
They sayd Lacons desertes had derely bought
His hainous dede, that pearced had with stele
The sacred bulk, and throwen the wicked launce.
The people cried with sondry greeing shoutes
To bring the horse to Pallas temple bliue,
In hope thereby the goddesse wrath tappease.
We cleft the walles and closures of the towne,
Whereto all helpe, and vnderset the feet
With sliding rolles, and bound his neck with ropes.
This fatall gin thus ouerclambe our walles,
Stuft with armed men; about the which there ran
Children and maides, that holly carolles sang;
And well were they whoes hands might touch the cordes.
With thretning chere thus slided through our town
The subtil tree, to Pallas temple ward.
O natiue land! Ilion! and of the goddes
The mansion place! O warrlik walles of Troy!
Fowr times it stopt in thentrie of our gate;
Fowr times the harnesse clattred in the womb.
But we goe on, vnsound of memorie,
And blinded eke by rage perseuer still:
This fatal monster in the fane we place.
Cassandra then, inspired with Phebus sprite,
Her prophetes lippes, yet neuer of vs leeued,
Disclosed eft; forespeking thinges to come.

123

We wretches, loe! that last day of our life
With bowes of fest the town and temples deck.
With this the skie gan whirle about the sphere;
The cloudy night gan thicken from the sea,
With mantells spred that cloked earth and skies,
And eke the treason of the Grekish guile.
The watchemen lay disperst, to take their rest,
Whoes werried limes sound slepe had then opprest.
When, well in order comes the Grecian fleet
From Tenedon, toward the costes well knowne,
By frendly silence of the quiet moone.
When the kinges ship put fourth his mark of fire,
Sinon, preserued by froward destinie,
Let forth the Grekes enclosed in the womb;
The closures eke of pine by stealth vnpind,
Whereby the Grekes restored were to aire.
With ioy down hasting from the hollow tree,
With cordes let down did slide vnto the ground
The great captaines: Sthenel, and Thesander,
The fierce Ulisses, Athamas, and Thoas;
Machaon first, then king Menolae;
Opeas eke that did the engin forge;
And streight inuade the town yburied then
With wine and slepe. And first the watch is slain;
Then gates vnfold to let their fellowes in;
They ioyne themselues with the coniured bandes.
It was the time when, graunted from the godds,
The first slepe crepes most swete in wery folk.
Loe! in my dreame before mine eies, me thought
With rufull chere I sawe where Hector stood,
Out of whoes eies there gushed streames of teares,
Drawn at a cart as he of late had be,
Distained with bloody dust, whoes feet were bowlne
With the streight cordes wherwith they haled him.
Ay me, what one! that Hector how vnlike,
Which erst returnd clad with Achilles spoiles;
Or when he threw into the Grekish shippes
The Troian flame! so was his beard defiled,
His crisped lockes al clustred with his blood,
With all such wounds, as many he receiued

124

About the walls of that his natiue town!
Whome franckly thus me thought I spake vnto,
With bitter teres and dolefull deadly voice:
‘O Troyan light! O only hope of thine!
What lettes so long thee staid? or from what costes,
Our most desired Hector, doest thou come
Whom, after slaughter of thy many frends,
And trauail of the people, and thy town,
Alweried, lord, how gladly we behold!
What sory chaunce hath staind thy liuely face?
Or why see I these woundes, alas! so wide?’
He answeard nought, nor in my vain demaundes
Abode, but from the bottom of his brest
Sighing, he sayd: ‘Flee, flee, O goddesse son,
And saue thee from the furie of this flame!
Our enmies now ar maisters of the walles,
And Troye town now falleth from the top.
Sufficeth that is done for Priams reigne.
If force might serue to succor Troye town,
This right hand well mought haue ben her defense.
But Troye now commendeth to thy charge
Her holy reliques, and her priuy gods.
Them ioyne to thee, as felowes of thy fate.
Large walles rere thow for them; for so thou shalt,
After time spent in thouerwandred flood.’
This sayd, he brought fourth Vesta in his hands,
Her fillettes eke, and euerlasting flame.
In this meane while, with diuerse plaint the town
Throughout was spred; and lowder more and more
The din resouned, with rattling of armes;
Although mine old father Anchises house
Remoued stood, with shadow hid of trees.
I waked; therwith to the house top I clambe,
And harkning stood I; like as when the flame
Lightes in the corne, by drift of boisteous winde;
Or the swift stream, that driueth from the hill,
Rootes vp the feldes, and presseth the ripe corne
And plowed ground, and ouerwhelmes the groue,
The silly herdman all astonnied standes,
From the hye rock while he doth here the sound.

125

Then the Grekes faith, then their deceit appered.
Of Deiphobus the palace large and great
Fell to the ground, all ouerspred with flash;
His next neighbour Ucalegon afire;
The Sygean seas did glister all with flame.
Upsprang the crye of men, and trompettes blast.
Then, as distraught, I did my armure on,
Ne could I tell yet whereto armes auailde.
But with our feres to throng out from the preasse
Toward the toure, our hartes brent with desire.
Wrath prickt vs fourth, and vnto vs it semed
A semely thing to dye, armd in the feld.
Wherewith Panthus, scapte from the Grekish dartes,
Otreus sonne, Phebus prest, brought in hand
The sacred reliques and the vanquisht gods,
And in his hand his litle nephew led;
And thus, as phrentik, to our gates he ran.
‘Panthus,’ quod I, ‘in what estate stand we?
Or for refuge what fortresse shall we take?’
Scarse spake I this, when wailing thus he sayd:
‘The later day and fate of Troye is come;
The which no plaint or prayer may auaile.
Troyans we were, and Troye was somtime,
And of great fame the Teucrian glorie erst;
Fierce Joue to Grece hath now transposed all.
The Grekes ar lordes ouer this fired town.
Yonder huge horse that stands amid our walles
Sheds armed men; and Sinon, victor now,
With scorne of vs doth set all things on flame.
And, rushed in at our vnfolded gates
Are thousands moe than euer came from Grece.
And some with weapons watch the narrow stretes,
With bright swerdes drawn, to slaughter redy bent.
And scarse the watches of the gate began
Them to defend, and with blinde fight resist.’
Through Panthus words & lightning of the gods,
Amid the flame and armes ran I in preasse,
As furie guided me, and wher as I had heard
The crye greatest that made the ayre resound.
Into our band then fell old Iphytus,

126

And Rypheus, that met vs by moonelight;
Dymas and Hypanis ioyning to our side,
With yong Chorebus, Mygdonius son;
Which in those dayes at Troye did ariue,
Burning with rage of dame Cassandraes loue,
In Priams ayd and rescue of his town.
Unhappy he! that wold no credit geue
Unto his spouses woords of prophecie.
Whom when I saw assembled in such wise,
So desperatly the battail to desire,
Then furthermore thus sayd I vnto them:
‘O ye yong men, of courage stout in vaine,
For nought ye striue to saue the burning town.
What cruel fortune hath betid, ye see;
The gods out of the temples all ar fled,
Through whoes might long this empire was mainteind;
Their altares eke are left both wast and voyd.
But if your will be bent with me to proue
That vttermost that now may vs befall,
Then let vs dye, and runne amid our foes;
To vanquisht folk, despeir is only hope.’
With this the yongmens courage did encrease,
And through the dark, like to the rauening wolues
Whom raging furie of their empty mawes
Driues from their den, leauing with hungry throthes
Their whelpes behinde, among our foes we ran,
Upon their swerdes, vnto apparant death;
Holding alway the chiefe strete of the town,
Couerd with the close shadowes of the night.
Who can expresse the slaughter of that night,
Or tell the nomber of the corpses slaine,
Or can in teres bewaile them worthely?
The auncient famous citie falleth down,
That many yeres did hold such seignorie.
With senslesse bodies euery strete is spred,
Eche palace, and sacred porch of the gods.
Nor yet alone the Troyan blood was shed.
Manhood oft times into the vanquisht brest
Returnes, wherby some victors Grekes ar slain,
Cruel complaintes, and terror euery where,

127

And plentie of grisly pictures of death.
And first with vs Androgeus there met,
Fellowed with a swarming rout of Grekes,
Deeming vs, vnware, of that feloship,
With frendly words whom thus he cald vnto:
‘Hast ye, my frendes, what slouth hath taried yow?
Your feers now sack and spoile the burning Troy;
From the tall ships where ye but newly come!
When he had sayd and heard no answer made
To him againe, wherto he might geue trust,
Finding himself chaunced amid his foes,
Mazde, he withdrew his foote back with his word.
Like him that wandring in the bushes thick
Tredes on the adder with his rechlesse foote,
Rered for wrath, swelling her speckled neck,
Dismayd, geues back al sodenly for fere;
Androgeus so, feard of that sight, stept back,
And we gan rush amid the thickest rout;
When, here and there we did them ouerthrow,
Striken with dred, vnskilfull of the place.
Our first labor thus lucked well with vs.
Chorebus then, encouraged by this chaunce,
Reioysing sayd: ‘Hold fourth the way of health,
My feers, that hap and manhod hath vs taught.
Change we our shields; the Grekes armes do we on.
Craft or manhod with foes what reckes it which?
The slaine to vs their armure they shall yeld.’
And with that word Androgeus crested helme
And the rich armes of his shield did he on;
A Grekish swerd he girded by his side.
Like gladly Dimas and Ripheus did;
The whole youth gan them clad in the new spoiles,
Mingled with Grekes, for no good luck to vs,
We went, and gaue many onsets that night,
And many a Greke we sent to Plutoes court.
Other there fled and hasted to their ships,
And to their costes of sauegard ran againe.
And some there were, for shamefull cowardrie,
Clambe vp againe vnto the hugie horse,
And did them hide in his wellknowen womb.

128

Ay me! bootelesse it is for any whight
To hope on ought against will of the gods.
Loe! where Cassandra, Priams daughter dere,
From Pallas chirch was drawn with sparkled tresse,
Lifting in vain her flaming eyen to heuen;
Here eyen, for fast her tender wrestes were bound.
Which sight Chorebus raging could not bere,
Recklesse of death, but thrust amid the throng;
And after we through thickest of the swerdes.
Here were we first ybatred with the dartes
Of our owne feers, from the hye temples top;
Wherby of vs grete slaughter did ensue,
Mistaken by our Grekish armes and crestes.
Then flockt the Grekes moued with wrath and ire
Of the virgin from them so rescued;
The fell Aiax, and either Atrides,
And the great band cleped the Dolopes.
As wrastling windes, out of dispersed whirl,
Befight themselues, the west with southern blast,
And gladsom east proud of Auroraes horse;
The woods do whiz; and fomy Nereus,
Raging in furie, with three forked mace
From bottoms depth doth weltre vp ye seas;
So came the Grekes. And such, as by deceit
We sparkled erst in shadow of the night,
And draue about our town, appered first.
Our fained shields and weapons then they found,
And, by sound, our discording voice they knew.
We went to wreck with nomber ouerlayd.
And by the hand of Peneleus first
Chorebus fel before the altar dead
Of armed Pallas; and Rhipheus eke,
The iustest man among the Troians all
And he that best obserued equitie.
But otherwyse it pleased now the gods.
There Hipanis, and Dimas, both were slaine,
Thoughpearced with the weapons of their feers;
Nor thee, Panthus, when thou wast ouerthrown,
Pitie, nor zele of good deuocion,
Nor habit yet of Phebus hid from scathe.

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Ye Troyan ashes, and last flames of mine,
I cal in witnesse, that at your last fall
I fled no stroke of any Grekish swerd,
And if the fates wold I had fallen in fight,
That with my hand I did deserue it wel.
With this from thense I was recuiled back
With Iphytus and Pelias alone;
Iphytus weke, and feble all for age,
Pelias lamed by Ulissez hand.
To Priams palace crye did cal vs then.
Here was the fight right hideous to behold,
As though there had no battail ben but there,
Or slaughter made els where throughout the town.
A fight of rage and furie there we saw.
The Grekes toward the palace rushed fast
And, couerd with engines, the gates beset,
And rered vp ladders against the walles;
Under the windowes scaling by their steppes,
Fenced with sheldes in their left hands, whereon
They did receiue the dartes; while their right hands
Griped for hold thembatel of the wall.
The Troyans on the tother part rend down
The turrets hye and eke the palace roofe;
With such weapons they shope them to defend,
Seing al lost, now at the point of death.
The gilt sparres and the beames then threw they down,
Of old fathers the proud and royal workes.
And with drawn swerds some did beset the gates,
Which they did watch, and kepe in routes full thick.
Our sprites restorde to rescue the kings house,
To help them, and to geue the vanquisht strength.
A postern with a blinde wicket there was,
A common trade to passe through Priams house,
On the back side wherof wast houses stood;
Which way eftsithes, while that our kingdome dured,
Thinfortunate Andromache alone
Resorted to the parentes of her make,
With young Astyanax, his grandsire to see.
Here passed I vp to the hyest toure,
From whense the wretched Troyans did throw down

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Darts, spent in waste. Unto a turret then
We stept, the which stood in a place aloft,
The top wherof did reache wellnere the sterres,
Where we were wont all Troye to behold,
The Grekish nauie, and their tentes also.
With instrumentes of iron gan we pick,
To seke where we might finde the ioyning shronk
From that high seat; which we razed, and threw down;
Which falling, gaue fourthwith a rushing sound,
And large in breadth on Grekish routes it light.
But sone an other sort stept in theyr stede;
No stone vnthrown, nor yet no dart uncast.
Before the gate stood Pyrrhus in the porche
Reioysing in his dartes, with glittring armes;
Like to the adder with venimous herbes fed,
Whom cold winter all bolne hid vnder ground,
And shining bright, when she her slough had slong,
Her slipper back doth rowle, with forked tong
And raised brest lift vp against the sun.
With that together came great Periphas;
Automedon eke, that guided had somtime
Achilles horse, now Pyrrhus armure bare;
And eke with him the warlike Scyrian youth
Assayld the house, and threw flame to the top.
And he an axe before the formest raught,
Wherwith he gan the strong gates hew and break.
From whens he bet the staples out of brasse,
He brake the barres, and through the timber pearst
So large a hole, wherby they might discerne
The house, the court, the secret chambers eke
Of Priamus and auncient kings of Troy,
And armed foes in thentrie of the gate.
But the palace within confounded was
With wayling, and with rufull shrikes and cryes;
The hollow halles did howle of womens plaint;
The clamor strake vp to the golden sterres.
The frayd mothers, wandring through the wide house,
Embracing pillers, did them, hold and kisse.
Pyrrhus assaileth with his fathers might,
Whom the closures ne kepers might hold out.

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With often pushed ram the gate did shake;
The postes beat down, remoued from their hookes;
By force they made the way, and thentrie brake.
And now the Grekes let in, the formest slew,
And the large palace with soldiars gan to fill.
Not so fercely doth ouerflow the feldes
The foming flood, that brekes out of his bankes,
Whoes rage of waters beares away what heapes
Stand in his way, the coates, and eke the herdes,
As in thentrie of slaughter furious
I saw Pyrrhus and either Atrides.
There Hecuba I saw, with a hundred moe
Of her sons wyues, and Priam at the altar,
Sprinkling with blood his flame of sacrifice.
Fiftie bedchambers of his childrens wyues,
With losse of so great hope of his ofspring,
The pillers eke proudly beset with gold
And with the spoiles of other nations,
Fell to the ground; and whatso that with flame
Untouched was, the Grekes did all possesse.
Parcase yow wold ask what was Priams fate?
When of his taken town he saw the chaunce,
And the gates of his palace beaten down,
His foes amid his secret chambers eke,
Thold man in vaine did on his sholders then,
Trembling for age, his curace long disused,
His bootelesse swerd he girded him about,
And ran amid his foes, redy to dye.
Amid the court, vnder the heuen, all bare,
A great altar there stood, by which there grew
An old laurel tree, bowing therunto,
Which with his shadow did embrace the gods.
Here Hecuba, with her yong daughters all,
About the altar swarmed were in vaine,
Like doues that flock together in the storme;
The statues of the gods embracing fast.
But when she saw Priam had taken there
His armure, like as though he had ben yong,
‘What furious thought, my wretched spouse,’ quod she,
‘Did moue thee now such wepons for to weld?

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Why hastest thow? This time doth not require
Such succor, ne yet such defenders now;
No, though Hector my son were here againe.
Come hether; this altar shall saue vs all,
Or we shall dye together.’ Thus she sayd.
Wherwith she drew him back to her, and set
The aged man down in the holy seat.
But loe! Polites, one of Priams sons,
Escaped from the slaughter of Pyrrhus,
Comes fleing through the wepons of his foes,
Searching, all wounded, the long galleries
And the voyd courtes; whom Pyrrhus, all in rage,
Followed fast to reache a mortal wound;
And now in hand, well nere strikes with his spere.
Who fleing fourth till he came now in sight
Of his parentes, before their face fell down
Yelding the ghost, with flowing streames of blood.
Priamus then, although he were half ded,
Might not kepe in his wrath, nor yet his words,
But cryeth out: ‘For this thy wicked work,
And boldnesse eke such thing to enterprise,
If in the heauens any iustice be
That of such things takes any care or kepe,
According thankes the gods may yeld to thee
And send thee eke thy iust deserued hyre,
That made me see the slaughter of my childe,
And with his blood defile the fathers face.
But he, by whom thow fainst thy self begot,
Achilles, was to Priam not so stern.
For loe! he, tendering my most humble sute
The right and faith, my Hectors bloodlesse corps
Rendred, for to be layd in sepulture,
And sent me to thy kingdome home again.’
Thus sayd the aged man, and therewithall
Forcelesse he cast his weak vnweldy dart,
Which, repulst from the brasse where it gaue dint,
Without sound hong vainly in the shieldes bosse.
Quod Pyrrhus: ‘Then thow shalt this thing report:
On message to Pelide my father go,
Shew vnto him my cruel dedes, and how

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Neoptolem is swarued out of kinde.
Now shalt thow dye,’ quod he. And with that word,
At the altar him trembling gan he draw,
Wallowing through the blodshed of his son;
And his left hand all clasped in his heare,
With his right arme drewe fourth his shining sword,
Which in his side he thrust vp to the hilts.
Of Priamus this was the fatal fine,
The wofull end that was alotted him.
When he had seen his palace all on flame,
With ruine of his Troyan turrets eke.
That royal prince of Asie, which of late
Reignd ouer so many peoples and realmes,
Like a great stock now lieth on the shore;
His hed and shoulders parted ben in twaine,
A body now without renome and fame.
Then first in me entred the grisly feare;
Dismayd I was. Wherwith came to my minde
The image eke of my dere father, when
I thus beheld the king of equal age
Yeld vp the sprite with wounds so cruelly.
Then thought I of Creusa left alone,
And of my house in danger of the spoile,
And the estate of young Iulus eke.
I looked back to seke what nomber then
I might discern about me of my feeres,
But weried they had left me all alone.
Some to the ground were lopen from aboue,
Some in the flame their irked bodies cast.
There was no moe but I left of them all,
When that I saw in Uestaes temple sit
Dame Helen, lurking in a secret place,—
Such light the flame did giue as I went by,
While here and there I cast mine eyen about.
For she in dred least that the Troians shold
Reuenge on her the ruine of their walles;
And of the Grekes the cruel wrekes also,
The furie eke of her forsaken make;
The common bane of Troy and eke of Grece,
Hateful she sate beside the altars hid.

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Then boyld my brest with flame and burning wrath
To reuenge my town, vnto such ruine brought;
With worthy peines on her to work my will.
Thought I: ‘Shall she passe to the land of Spart
All safe and see Mycene her natiue land,
And like a quene returne with victorie
Home to her spouse, her parentes, and children,
Folowed with a traine of Troyan maides,
And serued with a band of Phrigian slaues;
And Priam eke with iron murdred thus,
And Troy town consumed all with flame,
Whoes shore hath ben so oft forbathed in blood?
No! no! for though on wemen the reuenge
Unsemely is, such conquest hath no fame,
To geue an end vnto such mischief yet
My iust reuenge shal merit worthy praise;
And quiet eke my minde for to be wroke
On her which was the causer of this flame,
And satisfie the cinder of my feers.’
With furious minde while I did argue thus,
My blessed mother then appeard to me,
Whom erst so bright mine eyes had neuer seen,
And with pure light she glistred in the night,
Disclosing her in forme a goddesse like,
As she doth seme to such as dwell in heuen.
My right hand then she took and held it fast,
And with her rosie lips thus did she say:
‘Son, what furie hath thus prouoked thee
To such vntamed wrath? what ragest thow?
Or where is now become the care of vs?
Wilt thow not first go see where thow hast left
Anchises, thy father fordone with age?
Doth Creusa liue, and Ascanius thy son?
Whom now the Grekish bands haue round beset,
And were they not defensed by my cure,
Flame had them raught and enmies swerd ere this.
Not Helens beautie hatefull vnto thee,
Nor blamed Paris yet, but the gods wrath
Reft yow this wealth, and ouerthrew your town.
Behold,—and I shall now the cloude remoue,

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Which ouercast thy mortal sight doth dim,
Whoes moisture doth obscure all thinges about;
And fere not thow to do thy mothers will,
Nor her aduise refuse thow to performe—
Here, where thow seest the turrets ouerthrown,
Stone bet from stone, smoke rising mixt with dust,
Neptunus there shakes with his mace the walles
And eke the loose foundations of the same,
And ouerwhelms the whole town from his seat.
And cruell Iuno with the formest here
Doth kepe the gate that Scea cleped is,
Nere wood for wrath, whereas she standes, and calls
In harnesse bright the Grekes out of their ships.
And in the turrets hye behold where standes
Bright shining Pallas, all in warlike wede,
And with her shield, where Gorgons hed apperes.
And Iupiter, my father, distributes
Auayling strength and courage to the Grekes;
Yet ouermore, against the Troyan powr
He doth prouoke the rest of all the gods.
Flee then, my son, and geue this trauail end;
Ne shall I thee forsake, in sauegard till
I haue thee brought vnto thy fathers gate.’
This did she say and therwith gan she hide
Herself in shadow of the close night.
Then dredfull figures gan appere to me,
And great gods eke agreued with our town.
I saw Troye fall down in burning gledes;
Neptunus town, clene razed from the soil.
Like as the elm forgrown in mountaines hye,
Rond hewen with axe, that husbandmen
With thick assaultes striue to teare vp, doth threat;
And hackt beneath trembling doth bend his top,
Till yold with strokes, geuing the latter crack,
Rent from the heighth, with ruine it doth fall.
With this I went, and guided by a god
I passed through my foes, and eke the flame;
Their wepons and the fire eke gaue me place.
And when that I was come before the gates
And auncient building of my fathers house,

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My father, whom I hoped to conuey
To the next hils and did him thearto treat,
Refused either to prolong his life,
Or bide exile after the fall of Troy.
‘All ye’, quod he, ‘in whom yong blood is fresh,
Whose strength remaines entier and in ful powr,
Take ye your flight.
For if the gods my life wold have proroged,
They had reserued for me this wonning place.
It was enough, alas! and eke to much,
To see the town of Troy thus razed ones;
To have liued after the citee taken.
When ye haue sayd, this corps layd out forsake;
My hand shall seke my death, and pitie shal
Mine enmies moue, or els hope of my spoile.
As for my graue, I wey the losse but light,
For I my yeres, disdainfull to the gods,
Haue lingred fourth, vnable to all nedes,
Sins that the sire of gods and king of men
Strake me with thonder and with leuening blast.’
Such things he gan reherse, thus firmly bent.
But we besprent with teres, my tender son,
And eke my swete Creusa, with the rest
Of the houshold, my father gan beseche
Not so with him to perish all at ones,
Nor so to yeld vnto the cruel fate;
Which he refused, and stack to his entent.
Driuen I was to harnesse then againe,
Miserably my death for to desire.
For what aduise or other hope was left?
‘Father! thoughtst thow that I may ones remoue,’
Quod I, ‘a foote, and leaue thee here behinde?
May such a wrong passe from a fathers mouth?
If gods will be that nothing here be saued
Of this great town, and thy minde bent to ioyne
Both thee and thine to ruine of this town,
The way is plaine this death for to atteine.
Pyrrhus shall come besprent with Priams blood,
That gored the son before the fathers face
And slew the father at the altar eke.

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O sacred mother! was it then for this
That you me led through flame and wepons sharp,
That I might in my secret chaumber see
Mine enmies; and Ascanius my son,
My father, with Creusa my swete wife,
Murdred, alas! the one in thothers blood?
Why, seruants, then, bring me my armes againe;
The latter day vs vanquished doth call.
Render me now to the Grekes sight againe,
And let me see the fight begon of new;
We shall not all vnwroken dye this day.’
About me then I girt my sword again,
And eke my shield on my left sholder cast,
And bent me so to rush out of the house.
Lo! in my gate my spouse, clasping my feet,
Foregainst his father yong Iulus set.
‘If thow wilt go,’ quod she, ‘and spill thy self,
Take vs with thee in all that may betide.
But as expert if thow in armes haue set
Yet any hope, then first this house defend,
Whearas thy son, and eke thy father dere,
And I, somtime thine owne dere wife, ar left.’
Her shrill loud voice with plaint thus filled the house,
When that a sodein monstrous maruel fell.
For in their sight, and woefull parents armes,
Behold a light out of the butten sprang
That in tip of Iulus cap did stand;
With gentle touch whoes harmlesse flame did shine
Upon his heare, about his temples spred.
And we afraid, trembling for dredfull fere,
Bet out the fire from his blasing tresse,
And with water gan quench the sacred flame.
Anchises glad his eyen lift to the sterres;
With handes his voice to heauen thus he bent:
‘If by praier, almighty Iupiter,
Inclined thou mayst be, beholde vs then
Of ruth at least; if we so much deserue,
Graunt eke thine ayd, father, confirm this thing.’
Scarse had the old man said, when that the heuens
With sodein noise thondred on the left hand;

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Out of the skie, by the dark night there fell
A blasing sterre, dragging a brand or flame,
Which, with much light gliding on the housetop,
In the forest of Ida hid her beames;
The which, full bright cendleing a furrow, shone,
By a long tract appointing vs the way;
And round about of brimstone rose a fume.
My father vanquist, then beheld the skies,
Spake to the gods, and tholly sterre adored:
‘Now, now,’ quod he, ‘no longer I abide;
Folow I shall where ye me guide at hand.
O native gods! your familie defend;
Preserue your line. This warning comes of you,
And Troy stands in your protection now.
Now geue I place, and wherso that thou goe,
Refuse I not, my sonne, to be thy feer.’
This did he say; and by that time more clere
The cracking flame was heard throughout the walles,
And more and more the burning heat drew nere.
‘Why then, haue done, my father dere,’ quod I,
‘Bestride my neck fourthwith, and sit thereon,
And I shal with my sholders thee susteine,
Ne shal this labor do me any dere.
What so betide, come perill, come welfare,
Like to vs both and common there shal be.
Yong Iulus shall beare me company,
And my wife shal follow far of my steppes.
Now ye, my seruantes, mark well what I say:
Without the town ye shall find, on an hill,
An old temple there standes, wheras somtime
Worship was don to Ceres the goddesse;
Biside which growes an aged cipresse tree,
Preserued long by our forefathers zele.
Behind which place let vs together mete.
And thou, father, receiue into thy handes
The reliques all, and the gods of the land,
The which it were not lawfull I should touch,
That come but late from slaughter and blodshed,
Till I be washed in the running flood.’
When I had sayd these wordes, my sholders brode

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And laied neck with garments gan I spred,
And theron cast a yellow lions skin;
And therupon my burden I receiue.
Yong Iulus, clasped in my right hand,
Followeth me fast with vnegal pace;
And at my back my wife. Thus did we passe
By places shadowed most with the night.
And me, whom late the dart which enemies threw
Nor preasse of Argiue routes could not amaze,
Eche whispring wind hath power now to fray
And euery sound to moue my doutfull mind,
So much I dred my burden and my feer.
And now we gan draw nere vnto the gate,
Right well escapte the daunger, as me thought,
When that at hand a sound of feet we heard.
My father then, gazing throughout the dark,
Cried on me, ’Flee, son! they ar at hand.‘
With that bright sheldes and shene armours I saw.
But then, I knowe not what vnfrendly god
My trobled wit from me biraft for fere,
For while I ran by the most secret stretes,
Eschuing still the common haunted track,
From me catif, alas! bereued was
Creusa then, my spouse—I wote not how,
Whether by fate, or missing of the way,
Or that she was by werinesse reteind,
But neuer sithe these eies might her behold;—
Nor did I yet perceiue that she was lost,
Ne neuer backward turned I my mind,
Till we came to the hill wheras there stood
The old temple dedicate to Ceres.
And when that we were there assembled all,
She was only away, deceiuing vs,
Her spouse, her son, and all her compainie.
What god or man did I not then accuse,
Nere wood for ire, or what more cruell chaunce
Did hap to me, in all Troies ouerthrow?
Ascanius to my feeres I then betoke,
With Anchises, and eke the Troian gods,
And left them hid within a valley depe.

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And to the town I gan me hye againe,
Clad in bright armes, and bent for to renew
Auentures past, to search throughout the town,
And yeld my hed to perils ones againe.
And first the walles and dark entrie I sought
Of the same gate wherat I issued out,
Holding backward the steppes wher we had come
In the dark night, loking all round about.
In euery place the vgsome sightes I saw;
The silence selfe of night agast my sprite.
From hense againe I past vnto our house,
If she by chaunce had ben returned home.
The Grekes were there, and had it all beset.
The wasting fire blown vp by drift of wind
Aboue the roofes, the blazing flame sprang vp,
The sound wherof with furie pearst the skies.
To Priams palace and the castel then
I made; and ther at Iunous sanctuair,
In the void porches, Pheniz, Ulisses eke,
Sterne guardens stood, watching of the spoile.
The richesse here were set, reft from the brent
Temples of Troy: the table of the gods,
The vessells eke that were of massy gold,
And vestures spoild, were gatherd all in heap.
The children orderly, and mothers pale for fright,
Long ranged on a rowe stode round about.
So bold was I to showe my voice that night,
With clepes and cries to fill the stretes throughout,
With Creuse name in sorrow, with vain teres,
And often sithes the same for to repete.
The town restlesse with furie as I sought,
Thunlucky figure of Creusaes ghost,
Of stature more than wont, stood fore mine eyen.
Abashed then I woxe; therwith my heare
Gan start right vp; my voice stack in my throte.
When with such words she gan my hart remoue:
‘What helps to yeld vnto such furious rage,
Swete spouse?’ quod she. ‘Without wil of the gods
This chaunced not. Ne lefull was for thee
To lead away Creusa hense with thee;

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The king of the hye heuen suffreth it not.
A long exile thou art assigned to bere,
Long to furrow large space of stormy seas;
So shalt thou reach at last Hesperian land,
Wher Lidian Tiber with his gentle streme
Mildly doth flow along the frutfull felds.
There mirthful wealth, there kingdom is for thee;
There a kinges child preparde to be thy make.
For thy beloued Creusa stint thy teres,
For now shal I not see the proud abodes
Of Myrmidons, nor yet of Dolopes,
Ne I, a Troyan lady, and the wife
Unto the sonne of Uenus, the goddesse,
Shall goe a slaue to serue the Grekish dames;
Me here the gods great mother holdes.
And now farwell, and kepe in fathers brest
The tender loue of thy yong son and myne.’
This hauing said, she left me all in teres
And minding much to speake; but she was gone,
And suttly fled into the weightlesse aire.
Thrise raught I with mine armse taccoll her neck,
Thrise did my handes vaine hold thimage escape,
Like nimble windes, and like the flieng dreame.
So night spent out, returne I to my feers.
And ther wondring I find together swarmd
A new nomber of mates, mothers, and men,
A rout exiled, a wreched multitude,
From eche where flockke together, prest to passe,
With hart and goods, to whatsoeuer land
By sliding seas me listed them to lede.
And now rose Lucifer aboue the ridge
Of lusty Ide, and brought the dawning light.
The Grekes held thentries of the gates best;
Of help there was no hope. Then gaue I place,
Toke vp my sire, and hasted to the hill”

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[_]

This text also includes a different version of the following poem which appears in Tottel's Songes and Sonnettes, 1557. It has been omitted here.

58 BOOK 4.

[_]

(Version based upon Ms. Hargrave 205)

But now the wounded quene, with heavie care,
Throwgh owt the vaines doth nowrishe ay ye plage,
Surprised with blind flame; & to her minde
Gan to resort the prowes of the man,
And honour of his race; whiles in her brest
Imprinted stake his wordes & forme of face;
Ne to her lymmes care graunteth quiet rest.
The next morowe, with Phoebus lampe the erthe
Ylightned clere, & eke the dawninge daye
The shadowe danke gan from the pole remove,
When, all vnsownd, her sister of like minde
Thus spake she to: “Oh sister, what dremes
Be these that me tormenten thus afraide?
What newcome gest vnto our realme ys come;
What one of chere; how stowt of hart in armes?
Truelie I thinke, ne vaine ys my beleife,
Of goddishe race some of springe shuld he seeme:
Cowardie noteth hartes swarved owt of kinde.
He driven, Lord! with how hard destinie;
What battells eke atcheived did he tell!
& but my mind war fixt vnmovablie
Never with wight in weddlocke for to joine,
Sithe my first love me lefte by deth disseverid,
Yf bridall bowndes & bed me lothed not,
To this one fawlt perchaunce yet might I yeld.
For I wyll graunt, sithe wretched Syches dethe
My spouse & howse with brother slaughter stand,
This onelie man hath made my senses bend
& pricketh furthe the minde that gan to slide:
Felenglie I tast the steppes of mine old flame.
But first I wishe the erth me swallowe downe,
Or with thunder the mightie Lord me send
To the pale gostes of hell and darkness depe,
Or I the stayne, shamefastnes, or thi lawes.

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He that with me first coopled, tooke awaie
My love, which still enioye he in his grave.”
Thus did she saye, & with surprised teares
Bayned her brest. Whereto thus An replied:
“O sister more beloved then the light,
Thi youth all sole in plaintes wilt thow nedes spill?
Ne children swete, ne Venus giftes wilt knowe?
Cindres, thinkest thow, minde this, or graved ghostes?
Time of thie dole, thi spouse new dedd, I graunt
None might the moue; Iarbas not to fere,
The Libian king dispised eke by the,
& other princes moe, whom the riche soyle
Of Aefrike bredes, in honours tryvmphant.
Wilt thow allso withstand the loue that likes the?
Come not to minde vpon whose land thow dwelst?
On this syde, loe! the Getule towns behold,
A people bold, vnvanquished in warr;
Eke the vndaunted Numides compas the;
Allso the Syrtes vnfrindlie harboroughes.
On tother hand the desert realme of Scythe,
The Barceans, whose furie stretcheth wide.
What shall I touch the wars that moue from Tyre,
Or yet thie brothers threates?
By godes purveiaunce yt blue, & Junos helpe,
The Troiane shippes, I thinke, to rounne this course.
Sister, what towne shalt thow se this become?
Throwgh such alie how shall our kingdome rise,
& by the ayde of Troiane armes how great?
How manie waies shall Carthage glorie growe?
Thow onelie now beseke the godes of grace
By sacrifice. Which ended, to thie howse
Receave him, & forge causes of abode;
Whiles winter freates the seas, & watrie Orion,
The shippes shaken, vnfrindlie the season.”
Such wordes inflamde the kindled hart with love,
Lewsed all shame, & gaue the dowtfull hope.
& to the temples fyrst thei hast & seke
By sacrifice for grace, with hogreles of two yeares
Chosen, as owght, to Coeres that gaue lawes,
To Phoebus, Bacchus, & to Juno cheif,

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Which hath in care the bandes of mariage.
Fair Dido held in her right hand the cupp,
Which twixt the hornes of a white cowe she shedd
In presence of the godes, passing before
The aultres tall, which she renued ofte
With giftes that daye & bestes deboweled,
Gasing for cownsell on the thentrailes warme.
Ay me, vnskillfull myndes of prophetise!
Alas, blind mindes of prophetes! what avayle
Temples or vowes, what booten thei in rage?
A gentle flame the marie doth devower,
Whiles in the brest the sylent wound kepth life.
Vnhappi Dido burnes, & in her rage
Throwgh owt the towne she wandreth vp and downe;
Like to the stryken hinde with shafte in Crete,
Throwgh owt the woodes, which, chasing with his dartes,
Aloofe, the shepard smyteth at vnwares,
& leaves vnwiste in her the thirling hedd,
That throwgh the groves & laundes glides in her flight,
Amidd whose syde the mortall arrowe stykes.
Aeneas now abowt the walls she leades,
The towne preparde & Carthage welth to showe;
Offring to speake, amidd her voice, she whistes.
& when the daye gan fayle, new feastes she makes;
The Troiane travailes to here anew she listes,
Enraged all, & stareth in his face
That tells the tale. And when thei war all gone,
& the dymme moone repressed the daie light,
& slidinge sterres provoked vnto slepe,
Alone she moornth within her palaice voide,
& settes her downe on her for saken bedd,
& absent him she heres, when he is gone,
& seithe eke. Ofte in her lappe she holds
Askanius, trapte by his fathers fourme,
To proue if she might so beguile her loue.
The turretes now arise not, erst begoune;
Nether the youth weeldes armes, nor they avaunce
The port, nor other mete defence for warr.
Broken thei hang, the workes & mightie frames
Of walls hie raised, sthretching to the skie.

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Whom as soone as Ioves dere wife saw infect
With such a plague, ne fame resist the rage,
Saturnus dowghter bourdes thus with Venus than:
“Great praise”, quod she, “& worthie spoiles ye winne,
You & your sonn, great godes of memorie,
By bothe your wiles one woman to devower.
Yet am I not deceyved, that foreknew
Ye dredd our walles & buyldinges did suspect
Of hie Carthage. But what shalbe the end?
Or whervnto now serveth such debate?
But rather peace & brydall bondes knitt we,
Syth thow hast spedd of that thie hart desyred.
Dido doth burne, the rage her bones doth perse.
The people now then common to vs bothe;
With egall favour so lett vs governe them.
Lefull be it to serve a Troiane spouse;
& Tyrians yeld to thie right hand in dower.”
To whom Venus replied thus, that knew
Her wordes proceded from a fayned minde,
To Lybian costes to turne the prince from Rome:
“What wight so fond such offer to refuse?
Or yet with the had lever lyve in warr?
So be it fortune thi tale bring to effect.
But destenies I dowte, lest Jove will graunt
That folke of Tyer, & such as came from Troie,
Shuld hold one towne; or graunt these nations
Mingled to be, or joined aye in league.
Thow art his wief; lefull yt is for the
For to attempt his fancie by request.
Passe on before & followe the I shall.”
Quene Juno then tooke thus her tale againe:
“This travaile be yt mine. But by what meane,
Marke, in few wordes I shall the lerne eftsones,
This work in hand maie now be compassed.
Aeneas now, & wretched Dido eke,
The forest till a hunting minde to wend
The morow, as soone as Titan shall ascend,
& with his beames hath overspredd the erth.
[OMITTED]
& whiles the range doth sett the groues about,

151

A clowdie shower, mingled with haile, I shall
Pooer down, & then with thunder shake the skies.
The assembles skattered, the mistes shall cloke.
Dido the cave, the Troiane prince the same
Shall enter too, & I wilbe at hand.
& if thie will stick vnto mine, I shall
In weddlocke suer knitt, & make her his owne:
This shall the mariage be.” To whose request
Without debate Venus did seeme to graunt,
& smyled softe, as she that fownd the wile.
Then from the sea the dawning gan arise.
The son hoist vp, the chosen youth gan throng
Vnto the gates: the hayes so rarelie knitt,
The hunting staves with ther brode heddes of yron,
& of Massile the horsemen, furth thei breke;
Of senting howndes a kennell huge likewise.
& at the thressolde of her chamber dore
The Carthage lordes did on ther quene awaite;
The trampling steed, with gold & purple deckt,
Feirslie stood chawing on the fominge bitt.
Then issued she, awaited with a trayne,
Clad in a cloke of Tyre bordered full rich.
Her quyver hong behind her backe, her tresse
Knotted in gold, her purple vesture eke
Butned with gold. The Troianes of her trayne
Before her go, with gladsome Iulus.
Aeneas eke, the goodliest of the rowt,
Makes one of them & ioyneth close the thronges.
Like when Apollo leaveth Licia,
His wintring place, & Xanthus fluddes likewise,
To se Delos, his mothers mansion,
For to repayer & furnishe new her quyer,
The Cretians & folke of Driopes,
& painted Agathirth, do howle & crie,
Environninge the aulters rownd abowt,
When that he walkes vpon mownt Cynthus topp,
His sparkled tresse represt with garlandes softe
Of tender bowes, & tressed vp in golde,
His quyver dartes clattringe behind his backe:
So freshe & lustie did Aeneas seme,

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Such lordlie port in cowntinance dothe showe.
But to the hills & wilde holtes when thei came,
From the rockes toppe the wild savage rooes
Availe the hill, & on the other syde,
Over the laundes, thei gan to take ther course.
The hartes likewise, in troopes taking ther flight,
Raising the dust, the mountaynes fast forsoke.
The child Iulus, blithe of his swifte steed,
Amides the playne now prickes by them, now these,
& to encounter wisheth ofte in minde
The foming bore, in stedd of ferefull beastes,
Or lyon browne might from the hill discend.
In the meane while the heavens gan romble sore;
In tayle wher of a mingled shower with haile.
The Tirian folke & skattred Troiane youth
& Venus nevew the cottages for fere
Sought rownd about; the fluddes fell from the hills.
Quene Dido, with the Troiane prince alone,
Chanst on a denn. Our mother then, the Erth,
& Juno that hath charge of mariage,
First tokens gave with burning gledes of flame,
&, previe to the weddlocke, lightning skies;
& the nymphes wayled from the mountaynes toppe.
Aye me! this was the foremost daye of myrthe,
& of mischief the first occasion eke.
Respect of fame no lenger her with holdes,
Ne museth she to frame her loue be stelth.
Wedlock she calls it; vnder the pretence
Of which faier name she cloketh now her fault.
Furthwith Fame flies throwgh the greet Libian townes;
A mischief Fame—ther is none ells so swifte—
That moving, growes; & flitting, gethers strength.
First small to dredd, soone after climes the skies,
Percing the erth, & hides her hedd in clowdes.
Whom our mother, the Erth, tempted by wrathe
Of godes, begat; the last sister—thei write—
To Caeus and Inceladus.
Speedie of foote, of wing likewise right swifte;
A monster thing & dreddfull to behold:
For everie plume that on her bodie stickes

155

As manie waker eies lurke vnderneth;
A thing in deed much mervaylous to here,
So manie mowthes to speke, & listning eares.
By night she flieth amidd the clowdie skie,
Shriking, by the darke shadowe of the erth,
Ne once her eies to swete slepe doth encline.
By daye she sittes to marke on the howse toppes
Or turrettes hie, & the great townes she frayes,
Mindfull of yll & lies as blasing truth.
This monster blith with manie a tale gan sowe
This rumor then into the common eares,
As well thinges done as that was never wrought:
As, that there comen is to Tyrians court
Aeneas, that of Troiane bludd is sprong,
To whom faier Dido wold her self be wedd;
In natures lustes the winter for to passe,
[OMITTED]
This in ech mowth the filthie goddes spredd,
& takes her course to king Iarbas straight;
Kindling his minde, with tales she fedd his wrathe.
Gotten he was by Hammon Jupiter
Vpon the ravisht Garamantida.
An hundred temples in his realme he buylte,
An hundred aulters kepte with waker fyer,
A watche allwaies on the goddes to attende;
The erth imbrued with yelded blood of bestes,
& thresholdes spredd with garlandes strange of hew.
He, wood of minde, kindled by bitter bruites,
Fore the aultars, in presence of the godes,
With reared handes gan humblie Ioue entreate:
“Allmighti lord, whom the Moors nacion,
Fede at riche tables, presenteth with wine,
Seest thow these thinges? or serue we the in vayne,
When thow lettes fle the thunder from the clowdes,
Whose flames oft chaunce with vaine noise vs afraye?
A wandring woman in our coostes hath bowght
A plott for price, wher she a village sett;
To whom we gaue the strond for to manure,

157

& lawes the towne to rule; our weddlock lothe,
Hath chose Aeneas to commaund her realmes.
That Paris now, with his vnmanlie sorte,
With mytred hattes, with oynted bushe & bearde,
His rape inioyes; whiles to thie temple we
Our offringes bring & hallowe rumours vayne.”
Whom prayeng in such sort & gryping eke
The aulters fast, the mightie father harde,
& wrythed his looke towardes the royall walls
& lovers eke, forgetting ther good name.
To Mercurie then gaue he thus in charge:
“Hence, sonne, in hast! & call to the windes!
Slide with thie plumes & tell the Troiane prince,
That now in Carthage loytreth reckleslie,
Of the townes graunted him by destenie.
Swifte throwgh the skies se thow these wordes reporte.
His faire mother behight him not to vs.
Such one to be, ne therfor twise him savde.
From Greekishe armes, but Italie to rule,
Dreddfull in armes, & chargde with seigniorie,
Discovering his worthie Tewcrine race,
& vnder lawes the whole world to subdue.
If glorie of such thinges nowght him enflame,
Ne that he list seke honour by some payne,
The turrettes yet of Roome doth he envie,
That is the father of Ascanius?
What mindeth he to frame? or by what hope
In inmies land doth he make his abode?
Ne his ofspring in Italie regardes?
Ne yet the lond of Lavine doth behold?
Bidd him make sayle; haue here the summ & ende.
Our message thus report.” When Iove had said,
Then Mercurie gan bend him to obeye
His mightie fathers will; & to his heeles
His golden winges he knittes, which him transport
With a light winde aboue the erthe & sees.
& then with him his wande he tooke, wherby
He calls from hell pale ghostes, & other some
Thither he sendeth allso comefortles;

159

Wherby he forcethe slepes & bereaves them;
& mortall eies he closethe vp in dethe.
By pooer wherof he dryves the windes awaie,
& passeth eke amidd the trowbled clowdes,
Till in his flight he gan descriue the topp
& steepie flankes of rockie Athlas hill,
That with his crowne sustaines the welkin vp;
Whose hedd, forgrowen with pine, circled allwaie
With mistie clowdes, beaten with winde & stormes;
His showlders spredd with snowe; & from his chinn
The springes discende, his berd frosen with yse.
Here Mercurie with egall shininge winges
Fyrst towched, &, with bodie heddlong bent,
To the water thence took he his discent,
Like to the fowle that endlonge coostes & strondes,
Swarming with fishe, flies swymming by the sea.
Cutting betwixt the windes & Libian sandes,
From his graundfather by the mothers syde
The Cylen childe so came, & then alight
Vpon the howses with his winged feete,
Tofore the towers, wher he Aeneas saw
Fowndacouns cast & rearinge buyldinges new,
Gyrt with a sworde of iasper, starrie bright;
Of Tyrian purple hynge his showldres downe
His shininge pawle of mightie Didos gifte,
Striped throwgh owt with a thinn threde of golde.
Then thus he sayd: “Thow, that of highe Carthage
Dost the fowndacouns laye to please thie wife,
Raising on height a passing fayer citie!
But oh, for woe; thine owne thinges owt of minde!
From the bright skies the ruler of the godes
Sent me to the, which with his becke commaundes
Both heaven & erth; in hast he gaue me charge
Throw the light ayer this message the to saye:
What buildest thow, or by what hope thy time
In idlenes thus wastes in Afrike land?
Of so great thinges if not the fame the sturr,
Ne lust by honour thie travaile to pursue,
Ascanius yet, that thriveth fast, behold,

161

& the hope of Iulus seede, thine heire,
To whom the realme of Italie belongeth
& soyle of Rome.” When Mercurie had said,
Amid his tale, farr of from mortall eies
Into light ayer he vanisht owt of sight.
Aeneas, with that vision stryken downe,
Well ner bestraught, vp start his herre for dred;
Amid his throte his voice likewise gan sticke.
For to depart by flight he longeth now,
& that swete land to leave, astonied sore
By thadvice & message of the godes.
What may he do, alas! or by what wordes
Dare he perswade the raging quene in loue?
Or in what sort may he his tale begin?
Whiles here, now ther his restles minde gan ronne,
& diverslie him drawes, discoursing all.
After long dowbte this sentence semed best:
Mnestheus first, & strong Cleanthus eke,
He calls to him, with Sergest; vnto whom
He gave in charge his navie secretlie
For to prepare, & drawe to the sea coostes
His people, & his armour to addres,
& for the change of thinges to faine excuse,
& that he wold, when Dido lest foreknew
Or did suspect so great a love coold breke,
Awaite a tyme to speke therof most mete;
The nearest waie to hasten his entent.
Gladlie his will & biddinges thei obeie.
Full soone the Quene this craftie sleight gan smell,
—Who can deceaue a lover in forecast?—
& first foresees these mocions for to come,
Ye most assured fearing; vnto whom
That wicked Fame reported how the flete
Was armed new, all readie to avale.
Then yll bestedd of cownsell, rageth she,
& whisketh throwgh the towne like Bacchus nonne,
As Thyas sturrs, the sacred rites begonne,
When the wonted third yeres sacrifice
Doth prick her furth, hering Bacchus name halowed,
& when the feastfull night of Cytheron

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Doth call her owt, with noise of her dawnsing.
At length her self thus boordes Aeneas with:
“Vnfaithfull wight, to colour such a flight!
& cooldst thow hope vnwist to leave my land?
Not the our love, nor yet right hand betrothde,
Ne crwell dethe of Dido may with hold,
But that thow wilt in winter shippes prepare
& take the seas in broyle of raging windes?
What if the land thow sekest war not strange,
Yf not vnknowen, or auncient Troie stoode,
In rowghe seas yet shuld Troie of the be sought?
Shunnist thow me? by these teares & right hand—
For nowght ells haue I wretched lefte my self—,
By our spowsailes & mariage begoune,
If I of the deserued ever well,
Or thing of mine war ever to the leefe,
If to request that enie place be lefte,
Rue on this realme, whose ruine ys at hand,
I the beseche, & do awaie this minde.
The Libian folke & tyrantes Numydanne
For the me hate; my Tryians eke are wrothe;
My shamefastnes eke stayned for thi cause,
& good renowne, wherby vp to the starrs
Pereles I clambe. To whom wilt thow me leaue,
Readie to die, O my swete gest, syth this name
Ys all, as now, that of a spowse remaines?
But wherto now shuld I prolong my dethe?
What? vnto my brother Pigmalion
Bete downe my walls? or the Getulian king
Iarbas yet captive lead me awaie?
Before thie flight a child had I conceaved,
Or saw a yong Aeneas in my court
Play vp and downe, that did present thie face,
All vtterlie I coold not seme forsaken.”
Thus sayd the quene. He, to the godes advice,
Vnmoved held his eies, & in his brest
Represt his care & stroue against his will,
& these wordes few at lengthe furth gan he cast:
“Never shall I denie, quene, thie desertes,
Greater then thow in wordes may well expres.

165

To thinke on the ne yrke me ay it shall,
Whiles of my self I shall haue memorie,
& whiles the sprite these limmes of mine shall rule.
It is not great the thing that I requyer.
Nether ment I to cloke the same by stelth,
Slaunder me not, ne to eskape by flight.
Ne I to the pretended mariage,
Ne hither cam to joine me in such league.
Yf destenie at mine owne libertie
To lead my life woold haue permitted me,
After my will my sorowes to redowble,
Troie & the remainder of all my folke
Restore I shuld, & with these scaped handes
Ther walls againe vnto the vanquished,
& palaice hie of Priam eke repayer.
But now Apollo, called Gryneus,
& prophecies of Licia me bidd
To sease vpon the realme of Italie;
That is my loue, my countrie, & my land.
Yf Carthage turretes the, of Phenis land,
& of a Libian towne the sight detaynes,
To vs Troianes whie dost thow then envie
In Italie to make our rested ende?
Lefull it is for vs strang realmes to seke.
As ofte as night doth cloke with shadowe danke
The erthe, as oft as flaming sterrs appere,
The troobled ghost of my father Anchises
So ofte in slepe doth feare & advice me,
& wronged hedd by me of my dere sonne,
Whom I defraude of the Hesperian crowne
& landes allotted him by destenie.
The messenger eke of the godes but late,
Sent downe from Iove—I swere by either hedd—,
Passing the aier, did this to me reporte.
In bright daie light the god my self I sawe
Entre these walls, & with these eares him hard.
Leave then with plaint to vexe both the & me;
Against my will to Italie I goe.”
Whiles in this sort his tale he did pronownce,
With wayward looke she gan him aie behold,

167

With rowling eies that moved to & fro,
With sylent looke discoursing over all.
& furth at last in rage thus gan she brayde:
“Faithless! foresworne! thie dame ne goddes was,
Nor Dardanus beginner of thie race,
But soor hard rockes mownt Caucase monstruous
Bredd the, & tettes of tygres gaue the sucke.
But what shuld I dissemble now my chere,
Or me reserue to hope of greater thinges?
Shedd he one teare, or ever movde his eien?
Wepte he for ruth, or pitied our loue?
What shall I sett before, or wher beginne?
Iuno, ne Iove, with iust eies this beheld.
Faith is no wher; no surete is to be fownde.
Did I not him, throwen vp vpon my shore,
In nede receaue, & fownded eke invest
Of half my realme; his navie lost, repayer;
From dethes daunger his felowes eke defende?
Aie me! with rage of furies, lo! I driue.
Apollo now, now Lician prophecies,
An other while the messenger of godes,
He saith, sent downe from mightie Iove him self,
This dreddfull charge amidd the skies hath browght.
As thowgh that were the travaile of the godes,
Or such a care ther quietnes might moue!
I hold the not, nor yet gainsaye thie wordes;
To Italie passe on by helpe of windes,
& throwgh the fluddes go serche thi kingdome new.
Yf rufull godes haue enie power, I trust
Amidd the rockes thie hyer shalt thow fynde,
When thow shalt clepe full oft on Didos name.
With buriall brandes I, absent, shall the chase,
& when cold dethe from life these lymmes devide,
My ghost ech wher shall still on the awaite.
Thow shalt abie, & I shall here thereof;
Among the sowles bylowe this bruite shall come.”
With such like wordes she cutt of half her tale,
With pensife hart abandoninge the light,
& from his sight her self gan farr remoue,
Forsaking him, that manie thinges in feare

169

Imagyned, & did prepare to saye.
Her sowning lymmes her damsells gan releue,
& to her chamber bare of marble stone,
& layd her on her bedd with tapistes spredd.
But iust Aeneas, thowgh he did desyer
With comfort swete her sorrowe to appease,
& with his wordes to bannishe all her care,
To waile her much with grete love ouercome,
By the godes will yet workes he, & resortes
Vnto his navie, wher the Troianes fast
Fell to ther worke, from the shore to vnstocke
Highe charged shippes. Now fleetes the talowed kele.
Ther ores with leaues yet grene from woode thei bringe,
& mastes vnshauen, for hast to take ther flight.
Ye might haue seen them throng owt of the towne
Like antes, when thei do spoile the binge of corne
For winters dredd, which thei bear to their denne,
When the blake swarme creepes ouer all the feeldes,
& thwart the grasse by straight pathes dragg ther praye.
The gret graynes then somme on ther showlders trusse,
Some driue the troope, some chastice eke the slowe;
With ther travaile chaffed ys euerie path.
Beholdinge thus, what thowght might Dido haue!
What sighes gaue she, that from her towers of height
The large coostes saw haunted with Troians werkes,
& in her sight the seas with dynne confownded!
O wittles loue, what thing is that to do
A mortall minde thow canst not force therto!
Forced she is to teares ay to returne,
By new requestes to yeld her hart to loue.
& lest she shuld before her causeles dethe
Leave enie thing vntried: “O Sister An,”
Quod she, “behold the whole coost rownd abowt,
How thei prepare, assembled everie wher;
The streminge sayles abyden but for windes;
The shippmen crowne ther shippes with bowes for ioie.
O sister, if so great a sorrowe I
Mistrusted had, it wear more light to beare.
Yet natheles, this for me wretched wight,
An, shalt thow doe, for faithles, the alone
He reverenced, & eke his secrettes told.

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The metest tymes thow knew to boorde the man;
To my prowd foe thus, sister, humblie saye:
I with the Grekes in the port Aulide
Coniured not, the Troianes to destroie;
Nor to the walls of Troie yet sent my fleete;
Nor cynders of his father Anchises
Disturbed, aye owt of his sepulture.
Whie lettes he not my wordes synk in his eares
So hard for to intreat? whither wholes he?
This last boone yet graunte he to wretched loue:
Prosperous windes for to depart with ease
Let him abide. The foresaid marriage now,
That he betraide, I do not him requyer,
Nor that he shuld faire Italie forgoe;
Nether I woold he shuld his kingdome leaue;
Quiet I aske, & a tyme of delaye,
& respite eke my furie to aswage,
Till my mishappe teach me, all comefortles,
How for to waile my greif. This latter grace,
Sister, I craue; haue thow remorse of me!
Which, if thow shalt vouchsafe, with heapes I shall
Leave by my dethe well rendred vnto the.”
Mingled with teares thus wretched gan she plaine;
Which An reportes, & answer bringes againe.
Nowght teares him moue, ne yet vnto my wordes
He harkyns, thowgh that he war milde of kynde.
Destenie withstandes; a god stoppes his meke eares.
Like to the aged boistrous bodid oke,
Amidd the Alpes, which that the northren windes,
That now from this, now from that quarter blowe,
Betwixt them striue to overwhelme with blast;
The whistling ayer amongest the braunches rores,
Which all at ones bowe to the erthe hys croppes,
The stocke onste smyte; whiles in the rockes the tree
Stikes fast; & looke! how hie to heaven his topp
Reares vy, as deepe his roote spredes downe to hell:
So was this lord now here, now ther besett
With wordes, in whose stowt brest wrowght maine cares.
But still his minde in one remaynes; for nowght
The teares werr shed. Then Dido, frayd of fates,
Wisheth for dethe, yrkenge to se the skies.

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& that she might the rather worke her will,
& leaue the light—a greislie thing to tell—,
Vpon the aulters, burninge full of sence,
When she sett giftes of sacrifice, she sawe
The holie water stockes waxe blake within;
The wine eke shedd, changde into filthie geare;
Which she to none, ner to her sister told.
A marble temple in her palaice eke,
In memorie of her old spouse, ther stoode,
In great honour & wurshippe, which she held,
With snow white clothes deckt, & with bowes of feast;
Wher oft was hard her husbondes voice, & speche
Clepinge for her, when derke night hidd the erth.
& oft the owle with rufull song complaind
From the howse topp, to drawe his plaining tunes.
& manie thinges, forspoke by prophetes past,
Of dreddfull warninges gan her now afraye,
& sterne Aeneas semed in her slepe
To chase her still abowt, bestraught in rage.
& still her thowght that she was left alone
Vnwaited on great voiages to wende,
In desert land her Tyrian folke to seke.
Like Pentheus, that in his maddnes sawe
Swarminge in flockes the furies all of hell,
Two souns remoue, & Thebes towne showde twaine;
Or like Orestes, Agamemnons sonne,
In tragedies who representeth aie
Driven abowt, that from his mother fledd
With armed brandes, & eke with serpentes blake;
That sitting fownd within the temples porche
Th uglie furies his slaughter to revenge.
Yolden to woe, when frensie had her caught,
Within her self then gan she well debate,
Full bent to dye, the tyme & eke the meane;
& to her wofull sister thus she sayd,
In owtward chere dissembling her entent,
Presentinge hope vnder a semblant glade:
“Sister, reioice! for I haue fownd the waie
Him to returne, & loose me from his loue.
Toward the ende of the occean fludd,

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Wheras the sonne descendeth & declines,
In thextremes of Aethiope, is a place
Wher huge Atlas doth on his showlders turne
The sphere so rownd, with flaming sterrs besett;
Borne of Massile, I here, shuld be a nonne,
Of the Hesperian sisters temple old
The garder, that giues the dragon foode
That on the tre preserues the holie fruite
Which honie moist & sleping popey cast.
This woman doth avaunt, by force of charmes,
What hart she list to sett at libertie,
& other some to perse with heavie care;
In ronning floode to stopp the waters course,
& in the sterrs ther order to reverse;
The ghostes that walke by night eke to assemble.
Vnder thie foote the earth thow shalt behold
Tremble & rore, the okes fall from the hills.
The godes & the, dere sister, now I call
In wittnes, & thie hedd to me so swete,
To magike art against my will I bend.
Right secretlie within our inner court,
In open aier reare vp a stacke of woode,
& hang ther on the weapon of this man,
The which he lefte within my chamber sticke.
His weedes despoiled all, & brydall bedd,
Wherein, alas! sister, I fownd my bane,
Charge ther vpon; for so the nonne commaundes,
To do awaie what so did him belong,
Of that false wight that might remembrance bring.”
Then whisted she; the pale her face gan staine.
Ne coold yet An beleue her sister ment
To cloke her dethe by this new sacrifice,
Nor in her brest such furie did conceaue;
Nether doth she now dredd more grevous thinges
Then folowed Sycheus dethe, wherefor
She puttes her will in vre.
But the quene, when the stacke was reared vp
Vnder the aier within the open court,
With cloven oke & billettes made of fyrr,

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With garlandes then she doth besett the place,
& with grene bowes eke crowen the funerall;
& ther vpon his weedes & sword forsake,
& over his bedd his picture she bestowes,
As she that well foreknew what was to come.
The aulters stand abowt, & eke the nonne
With sparkled tresse; the which iii C godes
With a lowd voice doth thunder owt at once,
Herebus greislie, & Chaos eke,
With the threfold goddes Proserpine,
& thre figures of Dian the virgine;
& sprinkles eke the water counterfayte,
Vnto the blake Avernus lake in hell.
Weare sought, after the right course of the moone;
& springing herbes reaped with brasen sighes
Ther venime blake entermingled with mylke;
The lompe of fleshe twene the new borne fols eien
To weane her from her dames loue.
She, with the milk in bothe her handes devoute,
Stoode nere the aulter, bare on the one foote,
With vesture loose, the bandes vnlaced all;
Bent for to dye, calls the godes to record,
& gyltie sterrs eke of her destenie.
& if that ther werr enie god had care
Of lovers trwe, vnequall in behest,
Him she requires of iustice to remember.
Yt was the night that sownd & quiet rest
Had throwgh the erth the wearied bodies caught;
The woodes, the raging seas war fallen to rest;
When that the starrs had half ther course declinde;
The feldes whiste, beastes, & fowles of dyvers hwe,
& what so that in the brode slowghes remaine,
Or yet amonges the busshie thickes of bryer,
Laid downe to slepe by sylence of the night,
Gan swage ther cares, mindles of travailes past.
Not so the sprite of this Phenician,
Vnhappie she, that on no slepe coold chaunce,
Nor yet nightes rest in eie nor brest coold entre;
Her cares redowble; loue rise & rage againe,
& ouerflowes with swelling stormes of wrathe.

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Thus thinkes she then, thus rowles she in her minde:
“What shuld I do? shall I now beare the skorne
For to assaye myne old wooers againe,
Or humblie yet a Numyde spouse require,
Whose mariage I haue so ofte disdainde?
The Troiane navie, & Teuchryn vile commaundes
Follow shall I, as thowgh it shuld availe,
That whilome by mie helpe thei war releved?
Or for bycause with kynd & mindfull folke
Right well doth sitt the passed thankfull dede?
Who woold me suffer—admitt this war my will—,
Or skorned me to ther prowd shippes receaue?
Oh, woe begon, full litle doest thow knowe
Or smell the broken othes of Laomedus kinde!
What then? alone with merie maryners
Shall I awaite, or boorde them with my power
Of Tyrians, assembled me abowt?
& such as I with travaile browght from Tyre,
Driue to the seas, & force them sayle againe?
But rather dye, even as thow hast deserved,
& to this woe with yron geve thow ende!
& thow, sister, first vanquisht with my teares,
Thow in my rage with all these mischiefes fyrst
Did burden me, & wisht me to my foe.
Was it not graunted me, from spousailes fre,
Like to wild bestes, to lyve with owt offence,
With owt tast of such cares? Is ther no faith
Reserude to the cynders of Sycheus?
Such great complaintes brake furth owt of her brest;
Whiles that Aeneas, certein to depart,
All thinges preparde, slept in the pupp on hie.
To whom in sleape the wonted godheddes forme
Gan aie appere, returning in like shape
As semed him, & gan him thus advise,
Like vnto Mercurie in voice & here,
With yelow bushe & comelie lymmes of youthe:
“O goddes sone, in such case canst thow sleape?
Nor yet bestraight the daungers dest for see
That compass the, ner here the faire windes blowe
Dido in minde rowles veniaunce & deceite;

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Certein of death, swells with vnstable yre.
Wilt thow not fle, whiles thow hast tyme of flight?
Straight shalt thow se the seas coverd with sayles,
The blasing brondes the shore skalt all with flame,
& if the morow steales vpon the here.
Come of, haue done, sett all delaie aside;
For full of change these women be allwaie.”
This said, in the dark night he gan him hide.
Aeneas, of this sodaine vision
Adredd, stertes vp owt of his sleape in hast;
Calls vp his feres: “Awake! gett vp, my men!
Aburd your shippes, & hoyse vp sayle with spede!
A god me wills, sent from aboue againe,
To hast my flight, & wrethed cables cutt.
O holie god, what so thow art, we shall
Followe the, & all blithe obaye thie will.
Be at our hand, & frindlie vs assist!
Adresse the sterrs with prosperous influence!”
& with that word his raser sword vnshethes,
With which drawen he the cable cutt in twaine;
The like desire the rest imbraced all.
All thing in hast thei refte, & furth thei whorle.
The shore thei leave; with shippes the sees ar spredd;
Cuttinge the fome by the grene seas thei sweepe.
Aurora now from Titans purple bedd
With new daies light had ouerspredd the earth,
Throwgh the windowe the quene the creking daye
Aspied, & navie with splaide sayles depart
The shore, & eke the port of vessells voide.
Her comelye brest thrise or fower tymes she smitte
With her owne hand, & tare her golden tresse.
“Oh Iove!” quod she, “Shall he then thus depart,
A straunger thus, & skorne our kingdome soe?
Shall not my men do on ther armour prest,
& eke pursue them throwgh owt all this towne?
Owt of the rode soone shuld the vessells warpe?
Hast on, cast flame, hoyse sayle, & weelde your ores!
What said I? but wher am I? what fransie
Alters thie minde? Vnhappie Dido, now
Hath the be sett a froward destenie?

183

Then the behoued, when thow did devide
Thie sceptre. Loe! his faithe & his right hand,
That ledes with him, thei saye, his cuntrie godes,
That on his backe his aged father bare!
His bodie might not I haue caught & rent,
& in the sees haue drentcht him, & his pheres?
Or from Askanius his life berefte with yron,
& sett him on his fathers boord for meat?
Of such debate perchaunce the fortune might
Haue dowtefull bene; woold god yt war assayd!
Whom shuld I fear, that sithe my self must dye?
Might I haue throwen into that navie brondes,
& fylled eke ther deckes with flaming fyer,
The father, sonn, & all the nacion
Distroyed, & fall my self ther ouer all!
Sunne, with thie beames that mortall werkes descriest;
And thow, Iuno, that well these travailes knowst;
Proserpine, thow, vpon whom folke do vse
To howle, & call in forked waies by night;
Infernall furies, ye wreekers of wrong;
& Didos godes, which standes at point of deathe:
Receaue these wordes, & eke your heavie powre
With drawe from me, that wicked folke deserue,
& our request accepte, we you besech.
If so that yonder wicked hed must nedes
Recouer port, & sayle to land of force,
& if Ioues will hath so resolved it,
& such end sett as no wight can fordoe;
Yet at the least assayled might he be
With armes & warrs of hardie nacions;
From the bondes of his kingdome farr exiled;
Iulus eke ravisht owt of his armes;
Driven to call for helpe, that he maie se
The wailfull corses of his folke lie dedd.
& after hard condicions of peace,
His realme, nor life desyred maie he brooke;
But dye before his tyme, vnburied amidd the sandes.
This I require; these wordes with blud ishedd.
&, Tirians, ye his stocke & all his race
Pursue with hate! reward our cindres so!

185

No loue nor league betwixt our peoples be!
And of our bones some wreeker may ther springe,
With sword & flame that Troianes may pursue!
And from hencefoorth, when that our powr may stretch,
Our coostes to them contrarie be thei aie,
I craue of God; that our streames to ther fluddes;
Armes vnto armes; & ofspringe of ech race!”
This sayd, her mind she wrythde ouer all sides,
Seking with spede to ende this yrksome life.
To Syches nurse, Barcen, then thus she sayd—
For hers at home in asshes did remaine—:
“Call vnto me, dere nurse, my sister An;
Bidd her in haste in water of the floode
She sprinkle the bodye, & bring the beastes
& purging sacrifice I did her showe.
So lett her come; & thow thie temples bynde
With sacred garlandes; for the sacrifice
That I to Pluto haue begonn, I mynde
For to perfourme, & geue ende to these cares;
A Troiane statue throwe into the flame.”
When she had sayd, redowble gan her nurse
Her steppes, forth on an aged womans trott.
But trembling Dido egerlie now bent
Vpon her sterne determinacion,
Her bludd shott eien rowling within her hedd,
Her quiuering chekes fleked with deadlie staine,
Both pale & wanne to thinke on deathe to come,
Into the inner wardes of her palaice
She russheth in, & clamme vp, as bestraught,
The buriall stacke, & drew the Troiane sword,
Her gifte sometime, but ment to no such vse.
Wher, when she saw his weedes & wellknowen bedd,
Wepinge a while, in studie gan she staye,
Fell on the bedd, & these last wordes she sayde:
“Swete spoiles, whiles God & destenie did permitt,
Receave this sprite, & ridd me of these cares!
I ran the course so longe as fortune did yt graunt,
& vnder earth my great ghost now shall wende.
A goodlie towne I buylt, & saw my walls,

187

Happie, alas, to happie, if these coostes
The Troiane shippes had never towched aie!”
This sayd, she layd her mowth close to the bedd.
“Whie then,” quod she, “vnwroken shall we die?
But let vs die, for thus, & in this sort
Yt liketh vs to seke the shadows darke.
& from the seas the crwell Troiane eies
Shall well discerne this flame, & take with him
Eke these vnluckie tokens of my deathe.”
As she had sayd, her damsells might perceve
Her with those wordes fall persed on the sword,
The broyling blood with gore, & handes imbrwed.
The clamer rang vnto the palaice topp;
The bruite ran throwgh all the astoined towne.
With wailing great, & womens laymenting
The roophes gan rore, the aire resownd with plaint,
As thowgh Carthage or auncient Tyre
With presse of entred armes swarmed full;
Or when the rage of furious flame doth take
The temples toppes, & mansions eke of men.
Her sister An, spriteles for drede to here
This dreddfull sturr, with nailes gan tere her face.
She smotte her brest, & russheth throwgh the rowte,
& dying thus she cleapes her by her name:
“Sister, for this with crafte did you me boorde?
The stacke, the flame, the aulters, bredd thei this?
What shall I fyrst complaine, forsaken wight?
Loothest thow in dethe thi sisters felowshipe?
Thow shuld haue called me to like destenie:
One woe, one sword, one hower ende both vs two!
Thys funerall stacke buylt I vp with these handes,
& with this voice cleped our natiue godes;
&, crwell, so absentes me from thie deathe?
Distroid yt hath, sister, both the & me,
Thie people eke, & princes borne of Tyre.
Geve here; I shall with water washe her woundes,
& sucke with mowthe her breath, if owght be lefte.”
Thus sayd, vnto the hie degrees she mownted,
Embrasing fast her sister now half deed,
With wailfull plaint; whom in her lapp she layd,

189

The blake swart gore wiping drie with her clothes.
& Dido striveth to lifte vp againe
Her heavie eien, & hath no power therto:
Depe in her brest the fixed wound doth gape.
Thrise leaning on her elbowe gan she raise
Her self vpward, & thrise she ouerthrew
Vpon the bedd, ranginge with wandring eies
The skies for light, & wept when she it fownde.
Allmightie Iuno, having ruthe by this
Of her long paines & eke her lingring deathe,
From heaven she sent the goddes Iris downe,
The striving sprite & iointed lymmes to loose.
For that neither by lott of destenie
Nor yet by naturall death she perished,
But wretchedlie before her fatall daye,
& kindled with a sodayne rage of flame,
Proserpine had not from hedd berefte
The golden herre, nor iudged her to hell.
The dewie Iris thus with golden winges,
A thowsand hues showing against the soun,
Amidd the skies then did she fle adowne,
On Didos hedd wheras she gan alight:
“This herre,” quod she, “to Pluto consecrate,
I do bereaue; & eke the sprite vnloose
From thie bodie.” & when she had thus sayd,
With her right hand she cutt the herr in twaine,
& therwith all the naturall heat gan quench,
& into winde furthwith the life resolve.