[This once popular ballad was entered on the Registers of the Stationers Company in 1564-5 as "a ballett intituled _The Wanderynge Prince_." Its great popularity is evidenced by the frequent references in literature and the large number of ballads sung to the tune of _Queen Dido_ or _Troy towne_. In _The Penniless Parliament of Threadbare Poets_, 1608, ale-knights are said to "sing _Queen Dido_ over a cup and tell strange news over an ale-pot," and the same song is referred to in Fletcher's _Captain_ (act iii. sc. 3) and his _Bonduca_, act i. sc. 2.
The only tune that Mr. Chappell could find for the ballad was one by Dr. John Wilson (the Jack Wilson of Shakspere's stage according to Dr. Rimbault), which is printed in his _Cheerful Ayres or Ballads_, Oxford, 1660.]
When Troy towne had, for ten yeeres "past,"[407] Withstood the Greekes in manfull wise, Then did their foes encrease soe fast, That to resist none could suffice: Wast lye those walls, that were soe good, 5 And corne now growes where Troy towne stoode.
Æneas, wandering prince of Troy, When he for land long time had sought, At length arriving with great joy, To mighty Carthage walls was brought; 10 Where Dido queene, with sumptuous feast, Did entertaine that wandering guest.
And, as in hall at meate, they sate, The queene, desirous newes to heare, "Says, of thy Troys unhappy fate" 15 Declare to me thou Trojan deare: The heavy hap and chance soe bad, That thou, poore wandering prince, hast had,
And then anon this comelye knight, With words demure, as he cold well, 20 Of his unhappy ten yeares "fight," Soe true a tale began to tell, With words soe sweete, and sighes so deepe, That oft he made them all to weepe.
And then a thousand sighes he fet,[408] 25 And every sigh brought teares amaine; That where he sate the place was wett, As though he had seene those warrs againe; Soe that the queene, with ruth therfore, Said, worthy prince, enough, no more. 30
And then the darksome night drew on, And twinkling starres the skye bespred; When he his dolefull tale had done, And every one was layd in bedd: Where they full sweetly tooke their rest, 35 Save only Dido's boyling brest.
This silly woman never slept, But in her chamber, all alone, As one unhappye, alwayes wept, And to the walls shee made her mone; 40 That she shold still desire in vaine The thing, she never must obtaine.