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The Tudor Facsimile Texts

The Tragedy of
Dido Queen of Carthage

Written by
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594

_Date of this the earliest known edition_.... 1594

[_Bodleian_]

_Reproduced in Facsimile_....  1914




The Tudor Facsimile Texts

_Under the Supervision and Editorship of_
JOHN S. FARMER

The Tragedy of
Dido Queen of Carthage

Written by
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594

_Issued for Subscribers by the Editor of_

THE TUDOR FACSIMILE TEXTS

MCMXIV




The Tragedy of
Dido Queen of Carthage

Written by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE and THOMAS NASH

1594


_This play is facsimiled from the Bodley copy. Other examples
(says Sir Sidney Lee, but unrecorded by Greg) are at Bridgewater
House and at Chatsworth; the Devonshire Collection of Plays has
recently been disposed of to an American collector_.

_For other and bibliographical details see D.N.B. 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 reproduction from the original was made by The Clarendon
Press, Oxford_.

                        _JOHN S. FARMER_.



[Transcriber's Note: 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 D^r Wright and M^r Reed.

M^r Warton speaks in his _Hist. of Eng. Poet_ (III. p. 435) of an
Elegy being prefixed to it on the death of Marlowe; but no such
is found in either of those copies. In answer to my inquiries on
this subject he informed me by letter, [crossed-out text] that a
copy of this play was in Osborne's catalogue in the year 1754,
that he then saw it in his shop (together with several of M^r
Oldys's books that Osborne had purchased), + that the elegy in
question--"on Marlowe's untimely death" was inserted immediately
after the title page; that it mentioned a play of Marlowe's
entitled _The Duke of Guise_ and four others; but whether
particularly by _name_, he could not recollect. Unluckily he did
not purchase this rare piece, + it is now God knows where.

Bishop Tanner likewise mentions this elegy in so particular a
manner that he must have seen it. "Marlovius (Christopherus),
quondam in academia Cantabrigiensi musarum alumnus; postea actor
scenicus; deinde poeta dramaticus tragicus, paucis inferior
Scripsit plurimas tragedias, sc. Tamerlane.-Tragedie of Dido
Queen of Carthage. Pr. Come gentle Ganymed. Hanc perfecit +
edidit Tho. Nash Lond. 1594. 4^to.--Petrarius in praefatione ad
Secundam partem Herois et Leandri multa in Marlovii
commendationem adfert; hoc etiam facit Tho. Nash in _Carmine
Elegiaco Tragidiae Didonis praefiso in obitum Christop. Marlovii_,
ubi quatuor ejus tragidiarum mentionem facit, nec non et alterius
_de duce Guisio_." _Bib. Britan._ 1740.

I suspect M^r Warton had no other authority than this for saying
that this play was left imperfect by Marlowe, and completed +
published by Nashe; for it does not appear from the title page
that it was not written in conjunction by him + Marlowe in the
lifetime of the former. Perhaps Nashe's Elegy might ascertain
this point. Tanner had, I believe, no authority but Philipses,
for calling Marlowe an actor.

There was an old Latin play on the subject of Dido, written by
John Rightwise and played before Cardinal Wolsey + again before
Queen Elizabeth in 1564. There is also another Latin play on this
subject _Dido_, tragedia nova  so quatuor pri*ibus ***
**************** Virgilii disampla Antwerp ed, 1559.




THE
Tragedie of Dido
_Queene of Carthage:_

Played by the Children of her
_Maiesties Chappell._

Written by Christopher Marlowe, and
_Thomas Nash. Gent._

Actors

_Iupiter._        _Ascanius._
_Ganimed._        _Dido._
_Venus._          _Anna._
_Cupid._          _Achates._
_Iuno._           _Ilioneus._
_Mercurie._       _Iarbas._
_Hermes._         _Cloanthes._
_AEneas._          _Sergestus._

[Illustration: (Decorative) "BY PEACE PLENTY, BY WISDOME PEACE"]

AT LONDON,

Printed, by the Widdowe _Orwin_, for _Thomas Woodcocke_, and
are to be solde at his shop, in Paules Church-yeard, at
the signe of the blacke Beare. 1594.



[Illustration: (Decorative)]




The Tragedie of _Dido_ Queene
_of Carthage._


_Here the Curtaines draw, there is discovered_ Iupiter _dandling_
Ganimed _upon his knee, and_ Mercury _lying asleepe_.

_Iup._ Come gentle _Ganimed_ and play with me,
I loue thee well, say _Iuno_ what she will.

_Gan._ I am much better for your worthles loue,
That will not shield me from her shrewith blowes:
To day when as I 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 the bloud run downe about mine eares.

_Iup._ What? dares she strike the darling of my thoughts?
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_.

_Gan._ 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 _Iupiter_, if 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.

_Iup._ What ist sweet wagge I should deny thy youth?
Whose face reflects such pleasure to mine eyes,
As I exhal'd with thy fire darting beames,
Haue oft driuen backe the horses of the night.
When as they would haue hal'd thee from my sight:
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.

_Gan._ 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.

_Iup._ And shall haue _Ganimed_, if thou wilt be my loue.

_Enter Venus._

_Venus._ I this is it, you can sit toying there,
And playing with that female wanton boy,
Whiles my _AEneas_ wanders on the Seas,
And rests a pray to euery billowes pride.
_Iuno_, false _Iuno_ in her Chariots pompe,
Drawne through the heauens by Steedes of _Boreas_ brood,
Made _Hebe_ to direct her ayrie wheeles
Into the windie countrie of the clowdes,
Where finding _AEolus_ intrencht with stormes,
And guarded with a thousand grislie ghosts,
She humbly did beseech him for our bane,
And charg'd him drowne my sonne with all his traine.
Then gan the windes breake ope their brazen doores,
And all _AEolia_ to be vp in armes:
Poore _Troy_ must now be sackt vpon the Sea,
And _Neptunes_ waues be enuious men of warre,
_Epeus_ horse to _AEtnas_ hill transformd,
Prepared stands to wracke their woodden walles,
And _AEolus_ like _Agamemnon_ sounds
The surges, his fierce souldiers to the spoyle:
See how the night _Ulysses_-like comes forth,
And intercepts the day as _Dolon_ erst:
Ay me! the Starres supprisde like _Rhesus_ Steedes,
Are drawne by darknes forth _Astraeus_ tents.
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 _Iupiter_, rewardst thou vertue so?
What? is not pietie exempt from woe?
Then dye _AEneas_ in thine innocence,
Since that religion hath no recompence.

_Iup._ Content thee _Cytherea_ in thy care,
Since thy _AEneas_ wandring fate is firme,
Whose wearie lims shall shortly make repose,
In those faire walles I promist him of yore:
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.
Thus in stoute _Hectors_ race three hundred yeares,
The Romane Scepter royall shall remaine,
Till that a Princesse priest conceau'd by _Mars_,
Shall yeeld to dignitie a dubble birth,
Who will eternish _Troy_ in their attempts.

_Venus._ 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?

_Iup._ 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 _Ganimed_, we must about this geare.

_Exeunt Iupiter cum Ganimed._

_Venus._ Disquiet Seas lay downe your swelling lookes,
And court _AEneas_ with your calmie cheere,
Whose beautious burden well might make you proude,
Had not the heauens conceau'd with hel-borne clowdes,
Vaild his resplendant glorie from your view,
For my sake pitie him _Oceanus_,
That erst-