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Deftroy'd' his friends and fon : and from the fire
Have set the reeking boy before the fire.
Events are doubtful, which on battle wait;
Yet where's the doubt, to fouls fecure of fate!
My Tyrians, at their injur'd queen's command,
Had tofs'd their fires amid the Trojan band:
At once extingush'd all the faithlefs name;
And I myself, in vengeance of my shame,
Had fall'n upon the pile to mend the fun'ral flame.
Thou fun, who view'ft at once the world below;
Thou Juno, guardian of the nuptial vow;
Thou Hecat, hearken from thy dark abodes;
Ye furies, fiends, and violated Gods ;
All pow'rs invok'd with Dido's dying breath,
Attend her curses, and avenge her death.
If fo the fates ordain, and Jove commands,
Th' ungrateful wretch fhould find the Latian lands,
Yet let a race untam'd, and haughty foes,
His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose;
Opprefs'd with numbers in th' unequal field,
His men difcourag'd, and himself expell'd,
Let him for fuccour fue from place to place,
Torn from his fubjects, and his fon's embrace:
First let him fee his friends in battle flain;
And their untimely fate lament in vain :
And when, at length, the cruel war fhall ceafe;
On hard conditions may he buy his peace.
Nor let him then enjoy fupreme command;
But fall untimely, by fome hoftile hand:
And lie unbury'd on the barren fand.
Thefe are my pray'rs, and this my dying will:
And you, my Tyrians, ev'ry curfe fulfil.
Perpetual hate, and mortal wars proclaim,
Against the prince, the people, and the name.
Thefe grateful off'rings on my grave bestow;
Nor league, nor love, the hoftile nations know:
Now, and from hence in ev'ry future age,
When rage excites your arms, and ftrength fupplies
Rife fome avenger of our Lybian blood,
With fire and fword pursue the perjur'd brood:
Our arms, our feas, our fhores, oppos'd to theirs,
And the fame hate defcend on all our heirs.
This faid, within her anxious mind fhe weighs
The means of cutting fhort her odious days.
Then to Sichæus' nurfe the briefly faid,
(For when she left her country, hers was dead)
Go Barce, call my fifter; let her care
The folemn rites of facrifice prepare :
The sheep, and all th' atoneing off'rings bring;
Sprinkling her body from the crystal spring
With living drops: then let her come, and thou
With facred fillets bind thy hoary brow.
Thus will I pay my vows to Stygian Jove;
And end the cares of my difaftrous love.
Then caft the Trojan image on the fire;
And as that burns, my paffion fhall expire.
The nurse moves onward, with officious care,
And all the speed her aged limbs can bear.
But furious Dido, with dark thoughts involv'd,
Shook at the mighty mischief fhe refolv'd.
With livid fpots diftinguish'd was her face,
Red were her rowling eyes, and discompos'd her pace :
Ghaftly fhe gaz'd, with pain fhe drew her breath,
And nature shiver'd at approaching death.
Then swiftly to the fatal place fhe pass'd;
And mounts the fun'ral pile, with furious haste.
Unfheaths the fword the Trojan left behind,
(Not for fo dire an enterprize defign'd.)
But when the view'd the garments loosely spread,
Which once he wore, and faw the conscious bed,
She paus'd, and, with a sigh, the robes embrac'd ;
Then on the couch her trembling body caft,
Reprefs'd the ready tears, and spoke her laft.
Dear pledges of my love, while heav'n fo pleas'd,
Receive a foul, of mortal anguish eas'd:
My fatal course is finish'd; and I go
A glorious name, among the ghofts below.
A lofty city by my hands is rais'd;
Pygmalion punish'd, and my lord appeas'd.
What cou'd my fortune have afforded more,
Had the falfe Trojan never touch'd my fhore !
Then kifs'd the couch; and muft I die, she faid;
And unreveng'd? 'tis doubly to be dead!
Yet ev❜n this death with pleasure I receive;
On any terms, 'tis better than to live.
These flames, from far, may the falfe Trojan view;
These boding omens his bafe flight purfue.
She faid, and ftruck: deep enter'd in her fide
The piercing steel, with reeking purple dy'd :
Clog'd in the wound the cruel weapon ftands;
The spouting blood came ftreaming on her hands.
Her fad attendants faw the deadly ftroke,
And with loud cries the founding palace fhook.
Distracted from the fatal fight they fled;
And thro' the town the difmal rumour spread.
Firft from the frighted court, the yell began,
Redoubled thence from houfe to house it ran :
The groans of men, with fhrieks, laments, and cries
Of mixing women, mount the vaulted skies.
Not lefs the clamour, than if ancient Tyre,
Or the new Carthage, fet by foes on fire,
The rowlin ruin, with their lov'd abodes,
Involv'd the blazing temples of their Gods.
Her fifter hears, and furious with despair,
She beats her breaft, and, rends her yellow hair :
And calling on Eliza's name aloud,
Runs breathlefs to the place, and breaks the crowd.
Was all that pomp of woe for this prepar'd,
These fires, this fun'ral pile, these altars rear'd;
Was all this train of plots contriv'd, faid fhe,
All only to deceive unhappy me?
Which is the worft? didst thou in death pretend
To fcorn thy fifter, or delude thy friend!
Thy fummon'd fifter, and thy friend had come :
One fword had ferv'd us both, one common tomb.
Was I to raise the pile, the pow'rs invoke,
Not to be prefent at the fatal ftroke?
At once thou haft destroyed thyself and me;
Thy town, thy fenate, and thy colony!
Bring water, bathe the wound; while I in death
Lay close my lips to hers, and catch the flying breath.
This faid, fhe mounts the pile with eager hafte ;
And in her arms the gafping queen embrac'd :
Her temples chaf'd; and her own garments tore
To ftanch the streaming blood, and cleanse the gore.
Thrice Dido try'd to raife her drooping head,
And fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on the bed.
Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and faw the light,
But having found it, ficken'd at the fight;
And clos'd her lids at laft, in endless night.
Then Juno, grieving that the should sustain
A death fo lingring, and fo full of pain;
Sent Iris down, to free her from the ftrife
Of lab'ring nature, and diffolve her life.
For fince the dy'd, not doom'd by heav'n's decree,
Or her own crime; but human cafualty,