Let heroes in the dufty field delight,
Those limbs were fashion'd for another fight. Bid Hector fally from the walls of Troy; 246 A fweeter quarrel fhould your arms employ. Yet fears like thefe fhould not my mind perplex,
Were I as wife as many of my fex.
But time and you may bolder thoughts infpire;
And I perhaps may yield to your desire.
You laft demand a private conference;
Thefe are your words, but I can guess your fenfe.
Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend:
Be rul'd by me, and time may be your friend.
This is enough to let you understand;
For now my pen has tir'd my tender hand :
My woman knows the fecret of my heart,
And may hereafter better news impart.
Eneas, the fon of Venus and Anchifes, having, at the deftruction of Troy, faved his gods, his father, and fon Afcanius, from the fire, put to fea with twenty fail of fhips; and, having been long toft with tempefts, was at last caft upon the shore of Libya, where queen Dido (flying from the cruelty of Pygmalion her brother, who had killed her husband Sichaus) had lately built Carthage. She entertained Eneas and his fleet with great civi lity, fell paffionately in love with him, and in the end denied him not the laft favours. But Mercury admonishing Eneas to go in fearch of Italy, (a kingdom promised him by the gods) he readily prepared to follow him. Dido foon perceived it, and having in vain tried all other means to engage him to flay, at laft in despair writes to him as follows.
So,
on Mæander's banks, when death is nigh,
The mournful fwan fings her own elegy.
Not that I hope (for, oh, that hope were vain!)
By words your loft affection to regain :
But, having loft whate'er was worth my care, 5
Why should I fear to lose a dying pray'r?
"Tis then refolv'd poor Dido must be left,
Of life, of honor, and of love bereft!
While with loofen'd fails, and vows, pre
To feek a land that flies the fearcher's care. 10
Nor can my rifing tow'rs your flight reftrain,
Nor my new empire, offer'd you in vain.
Built walls you fhun, unbuilt you feek; that
Is yet to conquer; but you this command.
Suppose you
landed where your wifh defign'd,
Think what reception foreigners would find. 16
What people is fo void of common fenfe,
To vote fucceffion from a native prince?
Yet there new fcepters and new loves you
New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.
When will your tow'rs the height of Carthage
know?
Or when your eyes
difcern fuch crowds below?
If fuch a town and fubjects you could fee,
Still would you want a wife who lov'd like
For, oh, I burn, like fires with incenfe bright: Not holy tapers flame with purer light: Æneas is my thoughts' perpetual theme ; Their daily longing, and their nightly dream,
Yet he's ungrateful and obdurate still:
Fool that I am to place my heart so ill!
Myfelf I cannot to myself reftore;
Still I complain, and still I love him more.
Have pity, Cupid, on my bleeding heart,
And pierce thy brother's with an equal dart.
I rave: nor canft thou Venus' offspring be, 35
Love's mother could not bear a fon like thee.
From harden'd oak, or from a rock's cold womb,
At least thou art from fome fierce tigress come;
Or on rough feas, from their foundation torn,
Got by the winds, and in a tempest born:
Like that, which now thy trembling failors fear;
Like that, whofe rage fhould ftill detain thee
here.
Behold how high the foamy billows ride!
The winds and waves are on the juster side.
To winter weather and a stormy fea
I'll owe, what rather I would owe to thee. Death thou deferv'ft from heav'n's avenging
But I'm unwilling to become the cause.
To fhun my love, if thou wilt feek thy fate,
'Tis a dear purchase, and a coftly hate.
Stay but a little, 'till the tempeft cease,
And the loud winds are lull'd into a peace.
May all thy rage, like theirs, unconftant prove!
And so it will, if there be pow'r in love.
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