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A proper Ballad, intituled, The wandring Prince of Troy.
To the tune of, Queene Dido.
[illustration]
[illustration]
WHen Troy Town for ten years warres,
withstood the Greeks in manfull wise,
Yet did their foes increase so fast.
that to resist none could suffice:
Wast lye those walls that were so good,
And Corn now grows where Troy Town stood
Aeheas wandring 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,
Did entertaine this wandring Guest.
And as in Hall at meat they sate,
the Queen desiring newes to heare.
Of thy unhappy ten yeares warre,
declare to me thou Trojan deare,
The heavy hap and chance so bad,
That thou poore wandring Prince hast had.
And then anon this comely Knight,
with words demure as he could well,
Of his unhappy ten yeares warres,
so true a tale began to tell,
With words so sweet and sighs so deep,
As oft he made them all to weep.
And then a thousand sighs he fetcht,
and every sigh brought teares amaine,
That where he sate the place was wet,
as if he had seen those warres againe;
So that the Queen with truth therefore,
Said, worthy Prince enough no more.
The darksome night apace grew on
〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••••••kling starres i••…••… skies were spread,
As he his dolefull tale had told,
and every one lay in his bed;
Where they full sweetly took their rest,
Save onely Dido's boyling breast.
This silly woman never slept,
but in her chamber all alone,
As one unhappy alwayes wept,
and to the walls she made her moane,
That she should still desire in vaine,
The thing which she could not obtaine.
And thus in griefe she spent the night,
till twinkling starres from skies were fled,
And Phoebus with his glistering beames,
through misty clouds appeared red;
Then tydings came to her anon,
That all the Trojan Ships were gone.
And then the Queene with bloody knife,
did arme her heart as hard as stone,
Yet some what loth to lose her life,
in wofull wise she made her moane;
And rowling on her carefull bed,
With sighs & sobs these words she said.
O wretched Dido Queen (quoth she)
I see thy end approaching neere,
For hee is gone away from thee,
whom thou didst love and hold so deare:
Is he then gone, and passed by,
O heart prepare thy selfe to dye.
Though reason would thou shouldst forbeare,
to stay thy hand from bloody stroake,
Yet fancy sayes thou shouldst not feare,
who fetteredst thee in Cupids yoake:
Com Death (quoth she) resolve my smart,
And with those words she pierst her heart.
[illustration]
〈…〉〈…〉
WHen Death had pierst the tender heart
of Dido, Carthagenian Queene,
And bloody knife did end her smart,
which she sustain'd in wofull teene:
Aeneas being shipt and gone,
Whose flattery caused all her mone.
Her Funerall most costly made,
and all things finisht mournfully,
Her body fine in mould was laid,
where it consumed speedily:
Her Sisters teares her Tombe bestrew'd,
Her Subjects griefes their kindnesse shew'd.
Then was Aeneas in an Ile,
in Grecia, where he liv'd long space,
Whereas her Sister in short while
writ to him, to his foule disgrace;
In phrase of Letters to her minde,
She told him plaine he was unkinde.
False-hearted wretch (quoth she) thou art,
and trayterously thou hast betray'd,
Unto thy lure a gentle heart,
Which unto thee such welcome made:
My Sister deare, and Carthage joy,
Whose folly bred her dire annoy.
Yet on her death-bed when she lay,
she pray'd for thy prosperity,
Béeching God that every day
might breed thee great felicity:
Thus by thy meanes I lost a friend,
Heaven send thee such untimely end.
When he these Lines full fraught with gall;
perused had and weigh'd them right,
His lofty courage then did faile.
and straigh appear'd in his sight
Queene Dido's Ghost both grim and pale,
Which made this valiant Souldier quaile.
Aeneas (quoth this 〈…〉〈…〉
my whole delight while I did live,
Thee of all men I loved most,
my fancie and my will did give;
For entertainement I thée gave,
Unthankefully thou dig'st my grave.
Wherefore prepare thy fléeting Soule
to wander with me in the Ayre,
Where deadly griefe shall make it howle,
because of me thou took'st no care;
Delay no time thy Glasse is runne,
Thy date is past and death is come.
Oh stay a while thou lovely Sprite,
be not so hasty to convey
My Soule unto eternall night,
where it shall nere behold bright day;
Oh doe not frowne, thy angry looke
Hath made my breath my life forsooke.
But woe is me, it is in vaine.
and booslesse is my dismall crie,
Time will not be recal'd againe,
nor thou surcease before I dye;
O let me live to make amends
Unto some of my dearest friends.
But seeing thou obdurate art,
and will not pitty on me show,
Because from thee I did depart,
and left unpayd what I did owe;
I must content my selfe to take
What lot thou will with me partake
And like one being in a trance,
a multitude of ugly Friends
About this woefull Prince did dance▪
no help he had of any friends;
His body then they tooke away.
And no man kne•• 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 day.
FINIS.