Virg monologue (Act 4) — The Poetaster

Meanwhile the skies 'gan thunder, and in tail Of that, fell pouring storms of sleet and hail: The Tyrian lords and Trojan youth, each where With Venus' Dardane nephew, now, in fear, Seek out for several shelter through the plain, Whilst floods come rolling from the hills amain. Dido a cave, the Trojan prince the same Lighted upon. There earth and heaven's great dame, That hath the charge of marriage, first gave sign Unto his contract; fire and air did shine, As guilty of the match; and from the hill The nymphs with shriekings do the region fill. Here first began their bane; this day was ground Of all their ills; for now, nor rumour's sound, Nor nice respect of state, moves Dido ought; Her love no longer now by stealth is sought: She calls this wedlock, and with that fair name Covers her fault. Forthwith the bruit and fame, Through all the greatest Lybian towns is gone; Fame, a fleet evil, than which is swifter none, That moving grows, and flying gathers strength, Little at first, and fearful; but at length She dares attempt the skies, and stalking proud With feet on ground, her head doth pierce a cloud! This child, our parent earth, stirr'd up with spite Of all the gods, brought forth; and, as some write, She was last sister of that giant race That thought to scale Jove' s court; right swift of pace, And swifter far of wing; a monster vast, And dreadful. Look, how many plumes are placed On her huge corps, so many waking eyes Stick underneath; and, which may stranger rise In the report, as many tongues she bears, As many mouths, as many listening ears. Nightly, in midst of all the heaven, she flies, And through the earth's dark shadow shrieking cries, Nor do her eyes once bend to taste sweet sleep; By day on tops of houses she doth keep, Or on high towers; and doth thence affright Cities and towns of most conspicuous site: As covetous she is of tales and lies, As prodigal of truth: this monster--