Book 4
through yonder waste of waves? Is it from me
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thou takest flight? O, by these flowing tears,
by thine own plighted word (for nothing more
my weakness left to miserable me),
by our poor marriage of imperfect vow,
if aught to me thou owest, if aught in me
ever have pleased thee—O, be merciful
to my low-fallen fortunes! I implore,
if place be left for prayer, thy purpose change!
Because of thee yon Libyan savages
and nomad chiefs are grown implacable,
and my own Tyrians hate me. Yes, for thee
my chastity was slain and honor fair,
by which alone to glory I aspired,
in former days. To whom dost thou in death
abandon me? my guest!—since but this name
is left me of a husband! Shall I wait
till fell Pygmalion, my brother, raze
my city walls? Or the Gaetulian king,
Iarbas, chain me captive to his car? .
O, if, ere thou hadst fled, I might but bear
some pledge of love to thee, and in these halls
watch some sweet babe Aeneas at his play,
whose face should be the memory of thine own —
I were not so forsaken, Iost, undone!”
She said. But he, obeying Jove's decree,
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gazed steadfastly away; and in his heart
with strong repression crushed his cruel pain;
then thus the silence broke: “O Queen, not one
of my unnumbered debts so strongly urged
would I gainsay. Elissa's memory
will be my treasure Iong as memory holds,
or breath of life is mine. Hear my brief plea!
'T was not my hope to hide this flight I take,
as thou hast dreamed. Nay, I did never light
a bridegroom's torch, nor gave I thee the vow
of marriage. Had my destiny decreed,
that I should shape life to my heart's desire,
and at my own will put away the weight
of foil and pain, my place would now be found
