_Dido._ _Iarbus_, know that thou of all my wooers (And yet haue I had many mightier Kings) Hast had the greatest fauours I could giue: I feare me _Dido_ hath been counted light, In being too familiar with _Iarbus_: Albeit the Gods doe know no wanton thought Had euer residence in _Didos_ breast. _Iar._ But _Dido_ is the fauour I request. _Dido._ Feare not _Iarbus_, _Dido_ may be thine. _Anna._ Looke sister how _Æneas_ little sonne Playes with your garments and imbraceth you. _Cupid._ No _Dido_ will not take me in her armes, I shall not be her sonne, she loues me not. _Dido._ Weepe not sweet boy, thou shalt be _Didos_ sonne, Sit in my lap and let me heare thee sing. No more my child, now talke another while, And tell me where learnst thou this pretie song? _Cupid._ My cosin _Helen_ taught it me in _Troy_. _Dido._ How louely is _Ascanius_ when he smiles? _Cupid._ Will _Dido_ let me hang about her necke? _Dido._ I wagge, and giue thee leaue to kisse her to. _Cupid._ What will you giue me? now Ile haue this Fanne. _Dido._ Take it _Ascanius_, for thy fathers sake. _Iar._ Come _Dido_, leaue _Ascanius_, let vs walke. _Dido._ Goe thou away, _Ascanius_ shall stay. _Iar._ Vngentle Queene, is this thy loue to me? _Dido._ O stay _Iarbus_, and Ile goe with thee. _Cupid._ And if my mother goe, Ile follow her. _Dido._ Why staiest thou here? thou art no loue of mine? _Iar._ _Iarbus_ dye, seeing she abandons thee. _Dido._ No, liue _Iarbus_, what hast thou deseru'd, That I should say thou art no loue of mine? Something thou hast deseru'd, away I say, Depart from _Carthage_, come not in my sight. _Iar._ Am I not King of rich _Getulia_? _Dido._ _Iarbus_ pardon me, and stay a while. _Cupid._ Mother, looke here. _Dido._ What telst thou me of rich _Getulia_? Am not I Queene of _Libia_? then depart. _Iar._ I goe to feed the humour of my Loue, Yet not from _Carthage_ for a thousand worlds. _Dido._ _Iarbus_. _Iar._ Doth _Dido_ call me backe? _Dido._ No, but I charge thee neuer looke on me. _Iar._ Then pull out both mine eyes, or let me dye. _Exit Iarb._ _Anna._ Wherefore doth _Dido_ bid _Iarbus_ goe? _Dido._ Because his lothsome sight offends mine eye, And in my thoughts is shrin'd another loue: O _Anna_, didst thou know how sweet loue were, Full soone wouldst thou abiure this single life. _Anna._ Poore soule I know too well the sower of loue, O that _Iarbus_ could but fancie me. _Dido._ Is not _Æneas_ faire and beautifull? _Anna._ Yes, and _Iarbus_ foule and fauourles. _Dido._ Is he not eloquent in all his speech? _Anna._ Yes, and _Iarbus_ rude and rusticall. _Dido._ Name not _Iarbus_, but sweete _Anna_ say, Is not _Æneas_ worthie _Didos_ loue? _Anna._ O sister, were you Empresse of the world, _Æneas_ well deserues to be your loue, So lovely is he that where ere he goes, The people swarme to gaze him in the face.