Come seruants, come bring forth the Sacrifize, That I may pacifie that gloomie Ioue, Whose emptie Altars haue enlarg'd our illes. Eternall Ioue, great master of the Clowdes, Father of gladnesse, and all frollicke thoughts, That with thy gloomie hand corrects the heauen, When ayrie creatures warre amongst themselues: Heare, heare, O heare Iarbus plaining prayers, Whose hideous ecchoes make the welkin howle, And all the woods Eliza to resound: The woman that thou wild vs entertaine, Where straying in our borders vp and downe, She crau'd a hide of ground to build a towne, With whom we did deuide both lawes and land, And all the fruites that plentie els sends forth, Scorning our loues and royall marriage rites, Yeelds vp her beautie to a strangers bed, Who hauing wrought her shame, is straight way fled: Now if thou beest a pitying God of power, On whom ruth and compassion euer waites, Redresse these wrongs, and warne him to his ships, That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes.

Iar Monologue from The Tragedy of Dido Queene of Carthage

Rehearse Iar's monologue