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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Act: 3 Scene: 1

Looke sister how Aeneas little sonne

Playes with your garments and imbraceth you.

Wherefore doth Dido bid Iarbus goe?

Poore soule I know too well the sower of love, [Aside.]

O that Iarbus could but fancie me.

Yes, and Iarbus foule and favourles.

Yes, and Iarbus rude and rusticall.

O sister, were you Empresse of the world,

Aeneas well deserves to be your love,

So lovely is he that where ere he goes,

The people swarme to gaze him in the face.

Then sister youle abjure Iarbus love?