Part 8 (1/2)

_Illio._ But what shall it be calde, _Troy_ as before?

_aen._ That haue I not determinde with my selfe.

_Cloan._ Let it be term'd _aenea_ by your name.

_Serg._ Rather _Ascania_ by your little sonne.

_aen._ Nay, I will haue it calde _Anchisaon_, Of my old fathers name.

_Enter Hermes with Ascanius._

_Hermes._ _aeneas_ stay, _Ioues_ Herald bids thee stay.

_aen._ Whom doe I see, _Ioues_ winged messenger?

Welcome to _Carthage_ new erected towne.

_Hermes._ Why cosin, stand you building Cities here, And beautifying the Empire of this Queene, While _Italy_ is cleane out of thy minde?

To too forgetfull of thine owne affayres, Why wilt thou so betray thy sonnes good hap?

The king of G.o.ds sent me from highest heauen, To sound this angrie message in thine eares.

Vaine man, what Monarky expectst thou here?

Or with what thought sleepst thou in _Libia_ sh.o.a.re?

If that all glorie hath forsaken thee, And thou despise the praise of such attempts: Yet thinke vpon _Ascanius_ prophesie, And yong _Iulus_ more then thousand yeares, Whom I haue brought from _Ida_ where he slept, And bore yong _Cupid_ vnto _Cypresse_ Ile.

_aen._ This was my mother that beguild the Queene, And made me take my brother for my sonne: No maruell _Dido_ though thou be in loue, That daylie danlest _Cupid_ in thy armes: Welcome sweet child, where hast thou been this long?

_Asca._ Eating sweet Comfites with Queene _Didos_ maide, Who euer since hath luld me in her armes.

_aen._ _Sergestus_, beare him hence vnto our s.h.i.+ps, Lest _Dido_ spying him keepe him for a pledge.

_Hermes._ Spendst thou thy time about this little boy, And giuest not care vnto the charge I bring?

I tell thee thou must straight to _Italy_, Or els abide the wrath of frowning _Ioue_.

_aen._ How should I put into the raging deepe, Who haue no sailes nor tackling for my s.h.i.+ps?

What would the G.o.ds haue me _Deucalion_ like, Flote vp and downe where ere the billowes driue?

Though she repairde my fleete and gaue me s.h.i.+ps, Yet hath she tane away my oares and masts, And left me neither saile nor sterne abourd.

_Enter to them Iarbus._

_Iar._ How now _aeneas_, sad, what meanes these dumpes?

_aen._ _Iarbus_, I am cleane besides my selfe, _Ioue_ hath heapt on me such a desperate charge, Which neither art nor reason may atchieue, Nor I deuise by what meanes to contriue.

_Iar._ As how I pray, may I entreat you tell.

_aen._ With speede he bids me sail to _Italy_.

When as I want both rigging for my fleete, And also furniture for these my men.

_Iar._ If that be all, then cheare thy drooping lookes, For I will furnish thee with such supplies: Let some of those thy followers goe with me, And they shall haue what thing so ere thou needst.

_aen._ Thankes good _Iarbus_ for thy friendly ayde, _Achates_ and the rest shall waite on thee, Whil'st I rest thankfull for this curtesie.