TheStationersRegister

The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Dido

Act: 2 Scene: 1

O what became of aged Hecuba?

Act: 3 Scene: 1

Looke sister how Aeneas little sonne

Playes with your garments and imbraceth you.

Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbus goe?

Poore soule I know too well the sower of love, [Aside.]

O that Iarbus could but fancie me.

Yes, and Iarbus foule and favourles.

Yes, and Iarbus rude and rusticall.

O sister, were you Empresse of the world,

Aeneas well deserves to be your love,

So lovely is he that where ere he goes,

The people swarme to gaze him in the face.

Then sister youle abjure Iarbus love?

Act: 3 Scene: 3

Sister, see see Ascanius in his pompe,

Bearing his huntspeare bravely in his hand.

How like his father speaketh he in all?

Act: 4 Scene: 1

In all my life I never knew the like,

It haild, it snowde, it lightned all at once.

Behold where both of them come forth the Cave.

As others did, by running to the wood.

Act: 4 Scene: 2

How now Iarbus, at your prayers so hard?

Nay, no such waightie busines of import,

But may be slackt untill another time:

Yet if you would partake with me the cause

Of this devotion that detaineth you,

I would be thankfull for such curtesie.

Alas poore King that labours so in vaine,

For her that so delighteth in thy paine:

Be rul'd by me, and seeke some other love,

Whose yeelding heart may yeeld thee more reliefe.

I will not leave Iarbus whom I love,

In this delight of dying pensivenes:

Away with Dido, Anna be thy song,

Anna that doth admire thee more then heaven.

Iarbus stay, loving Iarbus stay,

For I have honey to present thee with:

Hard hearted, wilt not deigne to heare me speake?

Ile follow thee with outcryes nere the lesse,

And strewe thy walkes with my discheveld haire

Act: 4 Scene: 4

Twas time to runne, Aeneas had been gone,

The sailes were hoysing up, and he abourd.

What if the Citizens repine thereat?

Act: 5 Scene: 1

What meanes my sister thus to rave and crye?

Wicked Aeneas.

I goe faire sister, heavens graunt good successe.

Before I came, Aeneas was abourd,

And spying me, hoyst up the sailes amaine:

But I cride out, Aeneas, false Aeneas stay.

Then gan he wagge his hand, which yet held up,

Made me suppose he would have heard me speake:

Then gan they drive into the Ocean,

Which when I viewd, I cride, Aeneas stay,

Dido, faire Dido wils Aeneas stay:

Yet he whose hearts of adamant or flint,

My teares nor plaints could mollifie a whit:

Then carelesly I rent my haire for griefe,

Which seene to all, though he beheld me not,

They gan to move him to redresse my ruth,

And stay a while to heare what I could say,

But he clapt under hatches saild away.

How can ye goe when he hath all your fleete?

Ah sister, leave these idle fantasies,

Sweet sister cease, remember who you are.

O helpe Iarbus, Dido in these flames

Hath burnt her selfe, aye me, unhappie me!

What can my teares or cryes prevaile me now?

Dido is dead,

Iarbus slaine, Iarbus my deare love,

O sweet Iarbus, Annas sole delight,

What fatall destinie envies me thus,

To see my sweet Iarbus slay himselfe?

But Anna now shall honor thee in death,

And mixe her bloud with thine, this shall I doe,

That Gods and men may pitie this my death,

And rue our ends senceles of life or breath:

Now sweet Iarbus stay, I come to thee.