Asca. Madame, you shall be my mother.
Dido. And so I will sweete child: be merrie man, Heres to thy better fortune and good starres.
Æn. In all humilitie I thanke your grace.
Dido. Remember who thou art, speake like thy selfe, Humilitie belongs to common groomes.
Æn. And who so miserable as Æneas is?
Dido. Lyes it in Didos hands to make thee blest, Then be assured thou art not miserable.
Æn. O Priamus, O Troy, oh Hecuba!
Dido. May I entreate thee to discourse at large,
And truely to how Troy was ouercome:
For many tales goe of that Cities fall,
And scarcely doe agree vpon one poynt:
Some say Antenor did betray the towne,
Others report twas Sinons periurie:
But all in this that Troy is ouercome,
And Priam dead, yet how we heare no newes.
Æn. A wofull tale bids Dido to vnfould,
Whose memorie like pale deaths stony mace,
Beates forth my senses from this troubled soule,
And makes Æneas sinke at Didos feete.
Dido. What faints Æneas to remember Troy? In whose defence he fought so valiantly: Looke vp and speake.