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 _AEneas_ 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 _AEneas_ worthie _Didos_ loue?

_Anna._ O sister, were you Empresse of the world,
_AEneas_ well deserues to be your loue,
So lovely is he that where ere he goes,
The people swarme to gaze him in the face.

_Dido._ But tell them none shall gaze on him but I,
Lest their grosse eye-beames taint my louers cheekes:
_Anna_, good sister _Anna_ goe for him,
Lest with these sweete thoughts I melt cleane away.

_Anna._ Then sister youle abiure _Iarbus_ loue?

_Dido._ Yet must I heare that lothsome name againe?
Runne for _AEneas_, or Ile flye to him. _Exit Anna._

_Cupid._ You shall not hurt my father when he comes.

_Dido._ No, for thy sake Ile loue thy father well.
O dull conceipted _Dido_, that till now
Didst neuer thinke _AEneas_ beautifull:
But now for quittance of this ouersight,
Ile make me bracelets of his golden haire,
His glistering eyes shall be my looking glasse,
His lips an altar, where Ile offer vp
As many kisses as the Sea hath sands,
In stead of musicke I will heare him speake,
His lookes shall be my only Librarie,
And thou _AEneas, Didos_ treasurie,
In whose faire bosome I will locke more wealth,
Then twentie thousand Indiaes can affoord:
O here he comes, loue, loue, giue _Dido_ leaue
To be more modest then her thoughts admit,
Lest I be made a wonder to the world.
_Achates_, how doth _Carthage_ please your Lord?

_Acha._ That will _AEneas_ shewe your maiestie.

_Dido._ _AEneas_ art thou there?

_AEn._ I vnderstand your highnesse sent for me.

_Dido._ No, but now thou art here, tell me in sooth,
In what might _Dido_ highly pleasure thee.

_AEn._ So much haue I receiu'd at _Didos_ hands,
As withou