Her suster Anne, as she that coude her good, Seide as her thoughte, and somdel hit with-stood. (260) But her-of was so long a sermoning, Hit were to long to make rehersing; 1185 But fynally, hit may not been with-stonde; Love wol love--for no wight wol hit wonde. The dawening up-rist out of the see; This amorous quene chargeth her meynee The nettes dresse, and speres brode and kene; 1190 An hunting wol this lusty fresshe quene; So priketh her this newe Ioly wo. To hors is al her lusty folk y-go; (270) Un-to the court the houndes been y-broght, And up-on coursers, swift as any thoght, 1195 Her yonge knightes hoven al aboute, And of her wommen eek an huge route. Up-on a thikke palfrey, paper-whyt, With sadel rede, enbrouded with delyt, Of gold the barres up-enbossed hye, 1200 Sit Dido, al in gold and perre wrye; And she is fair, as is the brighte morwe, That heleth seke folk of nightes sorwe. (280) Up-on a courser, startling as the fyr, Men mighte turne him with a litel wyr, 1205 Sit Eneas, lyk Phebus to devyse; So was he fresshe arayed in his wyse. The fomy brydel with the bit of gold Governeth he, right as him-self hath wold. And forth this noble quene thus lat I ryde 1210 An hunting, with this Troyan by her syde. The herd of hertes founden is anoon, With 'hey! go bet! prik thou! lat goon, lat goon! (290) Why nil the leoun comen or the bere, That I mighte ones mete him with this spere?' 1215 Thus seyn thise yonge folk, and up they kille These hertes wilde, and han hem at hir wille. Among al this to-romblen gan the heven, The thunder rored with a grisly steven; Doun com the rain, with hail and sleet so faste, 1220 With hevenes fyr, that hit so sore agaste This noble quene, and also her meynee, That ech of hem was glad a-wey to flee. (300) And shortly, fro the tempest her to save, She fledde her-self into a litel cave, 1225 And with her wente this Eneas al-so; I noot, with hem if ther wente any mo; The autour maketh of hit no mencioun. And heer began the depe affeccioun Betwix hem two; this was the firste morwe 1230 Of her gladnesse, and ginning of her sorwe. For ther hath Eneas y-kneled so, And told her al his herte, and al his wo, (310) And sworn so depe, to her to be trewe, For wele or wo, and chaunge for no newe, 1235 And as a fals lover so wel can pleyne, That sely Dido rewed on his peyne, And took him for husband, [to been] his wyf For ever-mo, whyl that hem laste lyf.