,
Which when I viewd, I cride, _AEneas_ stay,
_Dido_, faire _Dido_ wils _AEneas_ stay:
Yet he whose heart of adamant or flint,
My teares nor plaints could mollifie a whit:
Then carelesly I rent my haire for griefe,
Which seene to all, though he beheld me not,
They gan to moue him to redresse my ruth,
And stay a while to heare what I could say,
But he clapt vnder hatches saild away.

_Dido._ O _Anna_, _Anna_, I will follow him.

_Anna._ How can ye goe when he hath all your fleete?

_Dido._ Ile frame me wings of waxe like _Icarus_,
And ore his ships will soare vnto the Sunne,
That they may melt and I fall in his armes:
Or els Ile make a prayer vnto the waues,
That I may swim to him like _Tritons_ neece:
O _Anna_, fetch _Orions_ Harpe,
That I may tice a Dolphin to the shoare,
And ride vpon his backe vnto my loue:
Looke sister, looke louely _AEneas_ ships,
See see, the billowes heaue him vp to heauen,
And now downe falles the keeles into the deepe:
O sister, sister, take away the Rockes,
Theile breake his ships, O _Proteus_, _Neptune_, _Ioue_,
Saue, saue _AEneas_, _Didos_ leefest loue!
Now is he come on shoare safe without hurt:
But see, _Achates_ wils him put to sea,
And all the Sailers merrie make for ioy,
But he remembring me shrinkes backe againe:
See where he comes, welcome, welcome my loue.

_Anna._ Ah sister, leaue these idle fantasies,
Sweet sister cease, remember who you are.

_Dido. Dido_ I am, vnlesse I be deceiu'd,
And must I raue thus for a renegate?
Must I make ships for him to saile away?
Nothing can beare me to him but a ship,
And he hath all thy fleete, what shall I doe?
But dye in furie of this ouersight?
I, I must be the murderer of my selfe:
No but I am not, yet I will be straight.
_Anna_ be glad, now haue I found a meane
To rid me from these thoughts of Lunacie:
Not farre from hence there is a woman famoused for arts,
Daughter vnto the Nimphs _Hesperides_,
Who wild me sacrifice his ticing relliques:
Goe _Anna_, bid my seruants bring me fire. _Exit Anna._

_Enter Iarbus._

_Iar._ How long will _Dido_ mourne a strangers flight,
That hath dishonord her and _Carthage_ both?
How long shall I with griefe consume my daies,
And reape no guerdon for my truest loue?

_Dido._ _Iarbus_, talk not of _AEneas_, let him goe,
Lay to thy hands and helpe me make a fire,
That shall consume all that this stranger left,
For I entend a priuate Sacrifize,
To cure my minde that melts for vnkind loue.