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 Æneas 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 Æneas worthie Didos loue?
Anna. O sister, were you Empresse of the world, Æneas 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?