Dido, Queen of Carthage by Christopher Marlowe

DIDO: 'Let me go!', 'Farewell!', 'I must from hence!'

These words are poison to poor Dido's soul.

O speak like my Aeneas, like my love.

Why look'st thou toward the sea? The time hath been

When Dido's beauty chained thine eyes to her.

Am I less fair than when thou saw'st me first?

O, then, Aeneas, 'tis for grief of thee.

Say thou wilt stay in Carthage with thy queen,

And Dido's beauty will return again.

Aeneas, say how canst thou take thy leave?

Wilt thou kiss Dido? O, thy lips have sworn

To stay with Dido. Canst thou take her hand?

Thy hand and mine have plighted mutual faith.

Hast thou forgot how many neighbour kings

Were up in arms for making thee my love?

How Carthage did rebel, Iarbas storm,

And all the world calls me a second Helen,

For being entangled by a stranger's looks?

And wilt thou not be moved with Dido's words?

Thy mother was no goddess, perjured man,

Ah, foolish Dido, to forbear this long!

Wast thou not wracked upon this Libyan shore,

And cam'st to Dido like a fisher swain?

Repaired not I thy ships, made thee a king,

And all thy needy followers noblemen?

O serpent that came creeping from the shore

And I for pity harboured in my bosom,

Wilt thou now slay me with thy venomed sting

And hiss at Dido for preserving thee?

Go, go, and spare not. Seek out Italy.

I hope that that which love forbids me do,

The rocks and sea-gulfs will perform at large,

And thou shalt perish in the billows' ways,

To whom poor Dido doth bequeath revenge.

Which if it chance, I'll give ye burial

And weep upon your lifeless carcasses.

Why star'st thou in my face? If thou wilt stay,

Leap in mine arms. Mine arms are open wide.

If not, turn from me, and I'll turn from thee,

For though thou hast the heart to say farewell,

I have not power to stay thee.

Is he gone?

Ay, but he'll come again. He cannot go.

He loves me too too well to serve me so.