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Dido

Hoole, John (1727-1803)
  
DIDO.
  
[castlist]
  
[section]

collapse section1. 
ACT I.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
SCENE XIV.
 15. 
SCENE XV.
 16. 
SCENE XVI.
 17. 
SCENE XVII.
 18. 
SCENE XVIII.
 19. 
SCENE XIX.
collapse section2. 
ACT II.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
SCENE XIV.
 15. 
SCENE XV.
 16. 
SCENE XVI.
collapse section3. 
ACT III.
 1. 
SCENE I.
 2. 
SCENE II.
 3. 
SCENE III.
 4. 
SCENE IV.
 5. 
SCENE V.
 6. 
SCENE VI.
 7. 
SCENE VII.
 8. 
SCENE VIII.
 9. 
SCENE IX.
 10. 
SCENE X.
 11. 
SCENE XI.
 12. 
SCENE XII.
 13. 
SCENE XIII.
 14. 
SCENE XIV.
 15. 
SCENE XV.
 16. 
SCENE XVI.
 17. 
SCENE XVII.
 18. 
SCENE XVIII.
 19. 
SCENE XIX.
 20. 
SCENE XX.
 21. 
[scene]

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SCENE VII.

Iarbas, Araspes.
Iar.
Vain, easy fool! to hope such promise given
Would find from me performance.

Aras.
Yet, my sovereign,
Your sacred word is past.

Iar.
Who keeps not faith
To others, merits not himself to find it.
Go, lov'd Araspes, all delay is torture
To rage like mine—go, let one blow from thee
Secure my vengeance—let Æneas die.

Aras.
I go—and fate shall soon in open combat
Decide between our valour.

[going.
Iar.
Stay, Araspes,
Let not thy fame, my hatred and my vengeance,
243

Be left to chance like this—fraud shall assist us;
Assail him unprovided.

Aras.
Fraud! my sovereign?
A subject was I born, but never yet
Have earn'd the name of traitor—Bid me run,
Naked through flames, expose to hostile arms
This fenceless breast,—I'll fearless dare them all,
Thou art the master of my life—Araspes
Shrinks from no trial to defend his king;
But, Oh! exact not from this sword a deed
That bears the stamp of treason.

Iar.
Fond delusion
Of vulgar minds—I shall not want an arm
More faithful found than thine.

Aras.
How! mighty Gods!
Thy virtue sure—

Iar.
What virtue? In the world
Virtue is but a name, or that alone
Is virtue, which secures our weal or pleasure.
Amidst a throne's resplendent blaze
Each action stands approv'd;
Deceit itself may claim our praise,
And guilty deeds be lov'd.
To shun by guile some threaten'd ill,
Let dastard spirits dread,
Who born in fetters, cherish still
The fears in bondage bred.

[Exit.
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