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His mother's body from the fiend,
That sought her overthrow,
But being of her burden eas’d,
And safely brought to bed,
And farther sorrow bred :
Desiring them to stay ; * Out of the bed, (quoth she) this night,
I shall be borne away.
* Here comes the spirit of my love,
• With pale and ghastly face, · Who till he bear me hence away,
• Will not depart this place ; • Alive or dead, I am his by right,
* And he will surely have, 'In spite of me and all the world,
• What I by promise gave.
• watch with me this night, I pray;
* And see you do not sleep; No longer than you be awake
My body can you keep.'.
Yet nothing could suffice
Sad slumber from their eyes.
So being all full fast asleep,
To them unknown which way,
The child-bed-woman, that woeful night,
From thence was borne away;
Nor to this day can tell ;
In any age befel.
You maidens that desire to love,
And would good husbands choose,
By no means do refuse :
Will dreadful vengeance take
Do slender reckoning make.
THE WANDERING PRINCE OF TROY.
When Troy-town (had] for ten years wars,
Withstood the Greeks in manful wise, Then did their foes encrease so fast,
That to resist none could suffice : Waste lie those walls that were so good, And corn now grows where Troy-town stood.
Æneas, wandering prince of Troy,
When he for land long time had sought, At length, arrived with great joy,
To mighty Carthage walls was brought ;
Where Dido queen, with sumptuous feast,
And, as in hall at meat they sat,
The queen, desirous news to hear, • Of thy unhappy ten years' wars,
* Declare to me, thou Trojan dear! • The heavy hap, and chance so bad, * Which thou, poor wandering prince, hast had.'
And then, anon, this comely knight,
With words demure, as he could well,
So true a tale began to tell,
And then a thousand sighs he fet, *
And every sigh brought tears amain;
As he had seen those wars again;
The darksome night apace grew on,
And twinkling stars in skies were spread; And he his doleful tale had told,
And every one was laid in bed ; Where they full sweetly took their rest, Save only Dido's boiling breast.
This silly woman never slept ;
* Fetch'd. See p. 179, supra. Vol. II.
As one unhappy, always wept,
And to the walls she made her moan;
And thus in grief she spent the night,
Till twinkling stars from sky were fled,
Through misty clouds appeared red;
And then the queen, with bloody knife,
Did arm her heart as hard as stone,
In woeful wise she made her moan;
O wretched Dido, queen! (quoth she),
' I see thy end approaching near ; ' For he is gone away from thee,
- Whom thou didst love, and held so dear : • Is he then gone, and passed by ?
O heart! prepare thyself to die.
Though Reason would, thou shouldst forbear,
Come death, (quoth she) resolve my smart:'And, with these words, she pierc'd her heart.
When Death had pierc'd the tender heart
Of Dido, Carthaginian queen;
Which she sustain'd in woeful teen;
Her funeral most costly made,
And all things furnish'd mournfully;
Where it consumed speedily :
Then was Æneas in an isle,
In Grecia, where he liv'd long space,
Writ to him to his vile disgrace ;
• False-hearted wretch, (quoth she) thou art;
And treacherously thou hast betray'd "Unto thy lure a gentle heart,
- Which unto thee such welcome made ;
"Yet, on her death-bed when she lay,
• She pray'd for thy prosperity, Beseeching Heaven, that every day Might breed thy great felicity :