Enter Venus.

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 AEneas, 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.