_Dido._ Æneas, I'll repair thy Trojan ships, Conditionally that thou wilt stay with me, And let Achates sail to Italy: I'll give thee tackling made of rivelled[483] gold, Wound on the barks of odoriferous trees;[484] Oars of massy ivory, full of holes, Through which the water shall delight to play; Thy anchors shall be hewed from crystal rocks, Which, if thou lose, shall shine above the waves; 120 The masts, whereon thy swelling sails shall hang, Hollow pyramides of silver plate; The sails of folded lawn, where shall be wrought The wars of Troy,--but not Troy's overthrow; For ballace,[485] empty Dido's treasury: Take what ye will, but leave Æneas here. Achates, thou shalt be so seemly[486] clad, As sea-born nymphs shall swarm about thy ships, And wanton mermaids court thee with sweet songs, Flinging in favours of more sovereign worth 130 Than Thetis hangs about Apollo's neck, So that Æneas may but stay with me. _Æn._ Wherefore would Dido have Æneas stay? _Dido._ To war against my bordering enemies. Æneas, think not Dido is in love; For, if that any man could conquer me, I had been wedded ere Æneas came: See, where the pictures of my suitors hang; And are not these as fair as fair may be? _Ach._ I saw this man at Troy, ere Troy was sack'd. 140 _Æn._[487] I this in Greece, when Paris stole fair Helen. _Ili._ This man and I were at Olympia's[488] games, _Serg._ I know this face; he is a Persian born: I travell'd with him to Ætolia. _Cloan._ And I in Athens with this gentleman, Unless I be deceived, disputed once. _Dido._ But speak, Æneas; know you none of these? _Æn._ No, madam; but it seems that these are kings. _Dido._ All these, and others which I never saw, Have been most urgent suitors for my love; 150 Some came in person, others sent their legates, Yet none obtained me: I am free from all; And yet, God knows, entangled unto one. This was an orator, and thought by words To compass me: but yet he was deceiv'd: And this a Spartan courtier, vain and wild; But his fantastic humours pleased not me: This was Alcion, a musician; But, play'd he ne'er so sweet, I let him go: This was the wealthy king of Thessaly; 160 But I had gold enough, and cast him off: This, Meleager's son, a warlike prince; But weapons gree not with my tender years: The rest are such as all the world well knows: Yet now[489] I swear, by heaven and him I love, I was as far from love as they from hate. _Æn._ O, happy shall he be whom Dido loves!