Synopsis. A summary of Christopher Marlowe’s Dido, Queen of Carthage. The goddess Venus complains that Jupiter has been neglecting her son Aeneas, who . Dido, Queen of Carthage was likely Christopher. Jupiter, King of the Gods. Marlowe’s first venture into drama. The play is a faithful. Ganymede, Cup-bearer to the. Dido, Queen of Carthage was likely Christopher Marlowe’s first dramatic work, after having translated two Latin poetic collections while he was at university (the .

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The Plot: Dido, Queen of Carthage

The text of this edition is from The Tudor Facsimile Texts, a facsimile of the edition in the Bodleian. HOWEVER, copyright law varies in other countries, and the work may still be under copyright in the country from which you are accessing this website. It is your responsibility to check the cartage copyright laws in your country before downloading this work. I have included in this facsimile the page of manuscript in the Bodley example inasmuch as it contains matter of interest to the student.

The following paragraphs have been transcribed from a handwritten page. Some text is illegible, and this has been marked with asterisks where appropriate. The tragedy of Dido is one of the scarcest plays in the English language. There are but two copies known to be extant; in the possession of Dr Wright and Mr Reed.

Mr Warton speaks in his Hist. Bishop Tanner likewise didl this elegy in so particular a manner that he must have seen it. Marloviiubi quatuor ejus tragidiarum mentionem facit, nec non et alterius de duce Guisio. Tanner had, I believe, no authority but Philipses, for calling Marlowe an actor. Here the Curtaines draw, there is discovered Iupiter dandling Ganimed upon his knee, and Mercury lying asleepe.

Come gentle Ganimed and play with me, I loue thee well, say Iuno what she will. I am much better for your worthles loue, That will not shield me from her shrewith blowes: To day when as Msrlowe fild into your cups, And held the cloath of pleasance whiles you dranke, She reacht me such a rap for that I spilde, As made maglowe bloud run downe about mine eares. By Saturnes soule, and this earth threatning aire, That shaken thrise, makes Natures buildings quake, I vow, if she but once frowne on thee more, To hang her meteor like twixt heauen and earth, And bind her hand and foote with golden cordes, As once I did for harming Hercules.

Might I but see that pretie sport a foote, O how would I with Helens brother laugh, And bring the Gods to wonder at the game: Sweet Iupiterif ere I pleasde thine eye, Or seemed faire walde in with Egles wings, Grace my immortall beautie with this boone, And I will spend my time in thy bright armes.

Dido, Queen of Carthage: Marlowe and Shakespeare’s visions of Troy | The Shakespeare blog

What ist sweet wagge I should deny thy youth? Sit on my knee, and call for thy content, Controule proud Fate, and cut the thred of time, Why are not all the Gods at thy commaund, And heauen and earth the bounds of thy delight? Vulcan shall daunce to make thee laughing sport, And my nine Daughters sing when thou art sad, From Iunos bird Ile pluck her spotted pride, To make thee fannes wherewith to coole thy face, And Venus Swannes shall shed their siluer downe, To sweeten out the slumbers of thy bed: Hermes no more shall shew the world his wings, If that thy fancie in his feathers dwell, But as this one Ile teare them all from him, Doe thou but say their colour pleaseth me: Hold here my little loue these linked gems, My Iuno ware vpon her marriage day, Put thou about thy necke my owne sweet heart, And tricke thy armes and shoulders with my theft.

I would haue a iewell for mine eare, And a fine brouch to put in my hat, And then Ile hugge with you an hundred times.

See how the night Ulysses -like comes forth, And intercepts the day as Dolon erst: What shall I doe to saue thee my sweet boy? When as the waues doe threat our Chrystall world, And Proteus raising hils of flouds on high, Entends ere long to sport him in the skie.


False Iupiterrewardst thou vertue so? But first in bloud must his good fortune bud, Before he be the Lord of Turnus towne, Or force her smile that hetherto hath frownd: Three winters shall he with the Rutiles warre, And in the end subdue them with his sword, And full three Sommers likewise shall he waste, In mannaging those fierce barbarian mindes: Which once performd, poore Troy so long supprest, From forth her ashes shall aduance her head, And flourish once againe that erst was dead: But bright Ascanius beauties better worke, Who with the Sunne deuides one radiant shape, Shall build his throne amidst those starrie towers, That earth-borne Atlas groning vnderprops: No bounds but heauen shall bound his Emperie, Whose azured gates enchased with his name, Shall make the morning halt her gray vprise, To feede her eyes with his engrauen fame.

How may I credite these thy flattering termes, When yet both sea and sands beset their ships, And Ph[oe]bus as in stygian pooles, refraines To taint his tresses in the Tyrrhen maine? I will take order for that presently: Hermes awake, and haste to Neptunes realme, Whereas the Wind-god warring now with Fate, Besiege the ofspring of our kingly loynes, Charge him from me to turne his stormie powers, And fetter them in Vulcans sturdie brasse, That durst thus proudly wrong our kinsmans peace.

Venus farewell, thy sonne shall be our care: Come Ganimedwe must about this geare. Venushow art thou compast with content, The while thine eyes attract their sought for ioyes: Great Iupiterstill honourd maist thou be, For this so friendly ayde in time of neede.

You sonnes of care, companions of my course, Priams misfortune followes vs by sea, And Helens rape doth haunt thee at the heeles. How many dangers haue we ouer past?

Dido, Queen of Carthage (play) – Wikipedia

Both barking Scillaand the sounding Rocks, The Cyclops shelues, and grim Ceranias seate Haue you oregone, and yet remaine aliue!

Pluck vp your hearts, since fate still rests our friend, And chaunging heauens may those good daies returne, Which Pergama did vaunt in all her pride.

Braue Prince of Troythou onely art our God, That by thy vertues freest vs from annoy, And makes our hopes suruiue to cunning ioyes: Doe thou but smile, and clowdie heauen will cleare, Whose night and day descendeth from thy browes: Though we be now in extreame miserie, And chistopher the map of weatherbeaten woe: Yet shall the aged Sunne shed forth his aire, To make vs liue vnto our former heate, And euery beast the forrest doth send forth, Bequeath her young ones to our scanted foode.

Alas sweet boy, thou must be still a while, Till we haue fire to dresse the meate we kild: Vhristopher Achatesreach the Tinder boxe, That we may make a fire to warme vs with, And rost our new found victuals on this marlwe. Hold, take this candle and goe light a fire, You shall haue leaues and windfall bowes enow Neere to these woods, to rost your meate withall: Ascaniusgoe and drie thy drenched lims, Qkeen I with my Achates roaue abroad, To know what coast the winde hath aueen vs on, Or whether men or beasts inhabite it.

The ayre wueen pleasant, and the soyle most fit For Cities, and societies supports: Yet much I maruell that I cannot finde, No steps of men imprinted in the earth. Now is the time for me to play my part: Hoe yong men, ,arlowe you as you came Any of all my Sisters wandring here? Hauing a quiuer girded to her side, And cloathed in a spotted Leopards skin. I neither saw nor heard of any such: But what may I faire Virgin call your name?

Such honour, stranger, doe I not affect: It is the vse for Turen maides to weare Their bowe and quiuer in this modest sort, And suite themselues in purple for the nonce, That they may trip more lightly didoo the lawndes, And ouertake the tusked Bore in chase.

But for the land whereof thou doest enquire, It is the punick kingdome rich and strong, Adioyning on Agenors stately towne, The kingly seate of Southerne LibiaWhereas Sidonian Dido rules as Queene. But what are you that aske of me these things? Whence may you come, or whither will you goe? But of them all scarce seuen doe anchor safe, And they so wrackt and weltred by the waues, As euery tide tilts twixt their oken sides: And all of them vnburdened of their loade, Are ballassed with billowes watrie weight.


But haples I, God wot, poore and vnknowne, Doe trace these Libian deserts all despisde, Exild forth Europe and wide Asia quern, And haue not any couerture but heauen. Fortune hath fauord thee what ere thou be, In sending thee vnto this curteous Coast: A Gods name on and hast thee to the Court, Where Dido will receiue ye with her smiles: And for thy ships which thou supposest lost, Not one of them hath perisht in the storme, But are ariued safe not farre from hence: And so I leaue thee to thy fortunes lot, Wishing good lucke vnto thy wandring steps.

Achatestis my mother that is fled, I know her by the mouings of her feete: Stay gentle Venusflye not from thy sonne, Too cruell, why chrisyopher thou forsake me thus?

Dido, Queen of Carthage

Why talke we not together hand christpher hand? And tell our griefes in more familiar termes: Follow ye Troians, follow this braue Lord, And plaine to him the summe of your distresse. Wretches of Troyenuied of the windes, That craue such fauour at your honors feete, As poore distressed miserie may pleade: Saue, saue, O saue our ships from cruell fire, That doe complaine the wounds of thousand waues, And spare our liues whom euery spite pursues.

We come not we to wrong your Libian Gods, Or steale your houshold lares from their shrines: Such force is farre from our vnweaponed thoughts, Whose fading weale of victorie forsooke, Forbids all hope to harbour neere our hearts. But tell me Troians, Troians if you be, Vnto what fruitfull quarters were marlkwe bound, Before that Boreas buckled with your sailes? Thither made we, When suddenly gloomie Orion rose, And led our ships into the shallow sands, Whereas the Southerne winde with brackish breath, Disperst them all amongst the wrackfull Rockes: From thence a fewe of vs escapt to land, The rest we feare are foulded in the flouds.

Braue men at armes, abandon fruitles feares, Since Carthage knowes to entertaine distresse. I but the barbarous sort doe threat our ships, And will not let vs lodge vpon the sands: In multitudes they swarme vnto the shoare, And from the first earth interdict our feete.

My selfe will see they shall not trouble ye, Your men and you shall banquet in our Court, And euery Troian be as welcome here, As Iupiter to sillie Vausis house: Come in with me, Ile bring you to my Queene, Who shall confirme my words with further deedes. O my AchatesTheban NiobeWho for her sonnes death wept out life and breath, And drie with cartuage was turnd into a stone, Had not such passions in her head as I.

christophdr And in this humor is Achates to, I cannot choose but fall vpon my knees, And kisse his hand: O where cartthage HecubaHere she was wont to sit, but sauing ayre Is nothing here, and what is this but stone? O Priamus is left and this is he, Come, come abourd, pursue the hatefull Greekes. Achates though mine eyes say this is stone, Yet thinkes my minde that this is Priamus: And when my grieued heart sighes and sayes no, Then would it leape out to giue Priam life: O were I not at all so thou mightst be.

Achatessee King Priam wags his hand, He is aliue, Troy is not chgistopher. Sweete father leaue to weepe, this is not he: For were it Priam he would smile on me.