_Venus._ What should this meane? my Doues are back returnd, Who warne me of such daunger prest at hand, To harme my sweete _Ascanius_ louely life. _Iuno_, my mortall foe, what make you here? Auaunt old witch and trouble not my wits. _Iuno._ Fie _Venus_, that such causeles words of wrath, Should ere defile so faire a mouth as thine: Are not we both sprong of celestiall rase, And banquet as two Sisters with the Gods? Why is it then displeasure should disioyne, Whom kindred and acquaintance counites. _Venus._ Out hatefull hag, thou wouldst haue slaine my sonne, Had not my Doues discou'rd thy entent: But I will teare thy eyes fro forth thy head, And feast the birds with their bloud-shotten balles, If thou but lay thy fingers on my boy. _Iuno._ Is this then all the thankes that I shall haue, For sauing him from Snakes and Serpents stings, That would haue kild him sleeping as he lay? What though I was offended with thy sonne, And wrought him mickle woe on sea and land, When for the hate of Troian _Ganimed_, That was aduanced by my _Hebes_ shame, And _Paris_ iudgement of the heauenly ball, I mustred all the windes vnto his wracke, And vrg'd each Element to his annoy: Yet now I doe repent me of his ruth, And wish that I had neuer wrongd him so: Bootles I sawe it was to warre with fate, That hath so many vnresisted friends: Wherefore I chaunge my counsell with the time, And planted loue where enuie erst had sprong. _Venus._ Sister of _Ioue_, if that thy loue be such, As these thy protestations doe paint forth, We two as friends one fortune will deuide: _Cupid_ shall lay his arrowes in thy lap, And to a Scepter chaunge his golden shafts, Fancie and modestie shall liue as mates, And thy faire peacockes by my pigeons pearch: Loue my _Æneas_, and desire is thine, The day, the night, my Swannes, my sweetes are thine. _Iuno._ More then melodious are these words to me, That ouercioy my soule with their content: _Venus_, sweete _Venus_, how may I deserue Such amourous fauours at thy beautious hand? But that thou maist more easilie perceiue, How highly I doe prize this amitie, Harke to a motion of eternall league, Which I will make in quittance of thy loue: Thy sonne thou knowest with _Dido_ now remaines, And feedes his eyes with fauours of her Court, She likewise in admyring spends her time, And cannot talke nor thinke of ought but him: Why should not they then ioyne in marriage, And bring forth mightie Kings to Carthage towne, Whom casualtie of sea hath made such friends? And _Venus_, let there be a match confirmd Betwixt these two, whose loues are so alike, And both our Deities conioynd in one, Shall chaine felicitie vnto their throne. _Venus._ Well could I like this reconcilements meanes, But much I feare my sonne will nere consent, Whose armed soule alreadie on the sea, Darts forth her light to _Lauinias_ shoare.