Dido. Those that dislike what Dido giues in charge,
Commaund my guard to slay for their offence: 
Shall vulgar pesants storme at what I doe? 
The ground is mine that giues them sustenance,
The ayre wherein they breathe, the water, fire,
All that they haue, their lands, their goods, their liues,
And I the Goddesse of all these, commaund
AEneas ride as Carthaginian King.

Acha. AEneas for his parentage deserues As large a kingdome as is Libia.

AEn. I, and vnlesse the destinies be false, I shall be planted in as rich a land.

Dido. Speake of no other land, this land is thine, Dido is thine, henceforth Ile call thee Lord:  Doe as I bid thee, sister leade the way, And from a turret Ile behold my loue.

AEn. Then here in me shall flourish Priams race, And thou and I Achates, for reuenge, For Troy, for Priam, for his fiftie sonnes, Our kinsmens loues, and thousand guiltles soules, Will leade an hoste against the hatefull Greekes, And fire proude Lacedemon ore their heads. Exit.

Dido. Speakes not AEneas like a Conqueror? 
O blessed tempests that did driue him in,
O happie sand that made him runne aground: 
Henceforth you shall be our Carthage Gods: 
I, but it may be he will leaue my loue,
And seeke a forraine land calde Italy: 
O that I had a charme to keepe the windes
Within the closure of a golden ball,
Or that the Tyrrhen sea were in mine armes,
That he might suffer shipwracke on my breast,
As oft as he attempts to hoyst vp saile: 
I must preuent him, wishing will not serue: 
Goe, bid my Nurse take yong Ascanius,
And beare him in the countrey to her house,
AEneas will not goe without his sonne: 
Yet left he should, for I am full of feare,
Bring me his oares, his tackling, and his sailes;
What if I sinke his ships?  O heele frowne. 
Better he frowne, then I should dye for griefe: 
I cannot see him frowne, it may not be: 
Armies of foes resolu’d to winne this towne,
Or impious traitors vowde to haue my life,
Affright me not, onely AEneas frowne
Is that which terrifies poore Didos heart: 
Nor bloudie speares appearing in the ayre,
Presage the downfall of my Emperie,
Nor blazing Commets threatens Didos death,
It is AEneas frowne that ends my daies: 
If he forsake me not, I neuer dye,
For in his lookes I see eternitie,
And heele make me immortall with a kisse.

Enter a Lord.

Your Nurse is gone with yong Ascanius,
And heres AEneas tackling, oares and sailes.