第28章

Fix'd on the deed, but doubtful of the means, After long thought, to this advice he leans:

Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair The fleet, and ship their men with silent care;Some plausible pretense he bids them find, To color what in secret he design'd.

Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose, Before the love-sick lady heard the news;And move her tender mind, by slow degrees, To suffer what the sov'reign pow'r decrees:

Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say.

They hear with pleasure, and with haste obey.

But soon the queen perceives the thin disguise:

(What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes!)She was the first to find the secret fraud, Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad.

Love the first motions of the lover hears, Quick to presage, and ev'n in safety fears.

Nor impious Fame was wanting to report The ships repair'd, the Trojans' thick resort, And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court.

Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound, And impotent of mind, she roves the city round.

Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear, When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy spear.

At length she finds the dear perfidious man;Prevents his form'd excuse, and thus began:

"Base and ungrateful! could you hope to fly, And undiscover'd scape a lover's eye?

Nor could my kindness your compassion move.

Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love?

Or is the death of a despairing queen Not worth preventing, tho' too well foreseen?

Ev'n when the wintry winds command your stay, You dare the tempests, and defy the sea.

False as you are, suppose you were not bound To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound;Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy reign, Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main?

See whom you fly! am I the foe you shun?

Now, by those holy vows, so late begun, By this right hand, (since I have nothing more To challenge, but the faith you gave before;)I beg you by these tears too truly shed, By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed;If ever Dido, when you most were kind, Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind;By these my pray'rs, if pray'rs may yet have place, Pity the fortunes of a falling race.

For you I have provok'd a tyrant's hate, Incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state;For you alone I suffer in my fame, Bereft of honor, and expos'd to shame.

Whom have I now to trust, ungrateful guest?

(That only name remains of all the rest!)What have I left? or whither can I fly?

Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty, Or till Hyarba shall in triumph lead A queen that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd bed?

Had you deferr'd, at least, your hasty flight, And left behind some pledge of our delight, Some babe to bless the mother's mournful sight, Some young Aeneas, to supply your place, Whose features might express his father's face;I should not then complain to live bereft Of all my husband, or be wholly left."Here paus'd the queen.Unmov'd he holds his eyes, By Jove's command; nor suffer'd love to rise, Tho' heaving in his heart; and thus at length replies:

"Fair queen, you never can enough repeat Your boundless favors, or I own my debt;Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name, While vital breath inspires this mortal frame.

This only let me speak in my defense:

I never hop'd a secret flight from hence, Much less pretended to the lawful claim Of sacred nuptials, or a husband's name.

For, if indulgent Heav'n would leave me free, And not submit my life to fate's decree, My choice would lead me to the Trojan shore, Those relics to review, their dust adore, And Priam's ruin'd palace to restore.

But now the Delphian oracle commands, And fate invites me to the Latian lands.

That is the promis'd place to which I steer, And all my vows are terminated there.

If you, a Tyrian, and a stranger born, With walls and tow'rs a Libyan town adorn, Why may not we- like you, a foreign race-Like you, seek shelter in a foreign place?

As often as the night obscures the skies With humid shades, or twinkling stars arise, Anchises' angry ghost in dreams appears, Chides my delay, and fills my soul with fears;And young Ascanius justly may complain Of his defrauded and destin'd reign.

Ev'n now the herald of the gods appear'd:

Waking I saw him, and his message heard.

From Jove he came commission'd, heav'nly bright With radiant beams, and manifest to sight (The sender and the sent I both attest)These walls he enter'd, and those words express'd.

Fair queen, oppose not what the gods command;Forc'd by my fate, I leave your happy land."Thus while he spoke, already she began, With sparkling eyes, to view the guilty man;From head to foot survey'd his person o'er, Nor longer these outrageous threats forebore:

"False as thou art, and, more than false, forsworn!

Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born, But hewn from harden'd entrails of a rock!

And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck!

Why should I fawn? what have I worse to fear?

Did he once look, or lent a list'ning ear, Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear?-All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind, So foul, that, which is worse, 'tis hard to find.

Of man's injustice why should I complain?

The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain Triumphant treason; yet no thunder flies, Nor Juno views my wrongs with equal eyes;Faithless is earth, and faithless are the skies!

Justice is fled, and Truth is now no more!

I sav'd the shipwrack'd exile on my shore;With needful food his hungry Trojans fed;I took the traitor to my throne and bed:

Fool that I was- 't is little to repeat The rest- I stor'd and rigg'd his ruin'd fleet.

I rave, I rave! A god's command he pleads, And makes Heav'n accessary to his deeds.

Now Lycian lots, and now the Delian god, Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode, To warn him hence; as if the peaceful state Of heav'nly pow'rs were touch'd with human fate!

But go! thy flight no longer I detain-

Go seek thy promis'd kingdom thro' the main!